Police Work

The office has windows on one side, looking out into the rest of the offices, covered in venetian blinds.

The other side of the office looks out onto the roof top terrace with windows across the wall, also covered by venetian blinds. The double desk is at one end of the oblong room, behind which is a door leading to a small bathroom and kitchen. The door is on the wall opposite the desk.

Ben has packed his pipe, which is on the desk.

Ace comes out of the bathroom. "Get over here," he says. Ace motions with his head to the office desk.

“Ha…” says Ben. He takes the steps around the desk to be facing Ace. Ace puts his arms around Ben’s shoulders and gazes into his eyes.

There is a knock on the door and then the door opens,

Ace and Ben pull apart.

Duff’s head appears around the door. "What's the details?" he asks.

“Huh?” says Ace.

“Um, er, Anything I need to know?” asks Duff

"Later," says Ace. “Later.”

“I’m just trying to…” Duff seems to loiter and hang in the doorway.

“Out,” says Ace.

“Out,” says Ben.

Duff’s head disappears. The door closes.

“Now where were we?” says Ace. He steps towards Ben.

“Something about stress relief.” Ben sits on the corner of the desk.

Ace puts his arms around Ben’s neck. He pushes his crotch into Ben’s crotch. He rubs up against Ben.

Ben kisses Ace. Ace kisses him back passionately.

There is a loud knock at the door.

“What the fuck,” says Ben.

“Not now,” Ace calls out.

“It’s Sergeant Carmichael. I was asked to report to you to debrief.”

“I’d like to debrief him,” whispers Ben, as he stands up.

Carmichael is an enthusiastic career cop, going places. He is a handsome, Italian boy from Doncaster who is good at what he does. He is going places.

“Just a moment,” says Ace. He steps away from Ben. Ben moves his jacket to cover his pipe still on the desk.

Ben stands up and brushes his hands down his shirt as though he is hiding the evidence.

Ace walks around to the back of his desk. Ben leans against the sideboard in the office.

“Yep,” says Ace.

Sergeant Carmichael comes into the office.

“Detective Zorad.” He sees Ben. “Detective Burrows.”

“Sergeant Carmichael,” says Ace.

"How'd you go?" asks Sergeant Carmichael.

"Dunno," says Ace. "We are just at the beginning."

"Any suspects?"

"No, none of any consequence," replied Ace.

“No leads?” asked the handsome sergeant.

“You could put out some feelers for a Rupert Whippet?”

“The husband?”

“The husband,” says Ace.

“Nobody seems to know where he is,” says Ben.

“He’s unaccounted for, at present,” says Ace.

"Okay, sir."

“Other than that, there is no obvious signs of death,” says Ace.

“We’ll have to wait for the path to come back,” says Ben.

“You got any ideas?” asks Carmichael.

“No, none,” says Ace and Ben together.

“No signs of break in. No signs of disturbance. No signs of injury.”

“It’s as though she lay down and died on the lounge room rug.”

“We’ll head over there later today and chat to the neighbours,” says Ace. “And hopefully by then we’ll know more about the husband.

“Okay,” says Carmichael. He smiles at Ace. He smiles at Ben. He smiles at Ace again. “We’ll wait for path.”

“And the crime scene boys,” says Ace.

“Wait until they have powdered… um… dusted,” says Ben.

“Should be finished soon,” says Ace.

“Okay,” says Carmichael.

“Check into the Whippets back ground, see if there is anything to know, history, complaints,” says Ace.

“Sure.” Carmichael leaves the office.

“I need a smoke,” says Ben. He picks up his smoking paraphernalia from the office desk and heads to the office balcony door.

“I’m going to make a call,” says Ace.

Ben disappears out onto the balcony.

Back at the Office

Ace and Ben stride through the offices towards their office. The station is busy, the uniform guys are all milling around eating donuts and drinking coffee.

One of the uniform guys catches their eye, as they walk passed. Carmichael is an enthusiastic career cop, handsome, Italian boy from the eastern suburbs who can always be relied on. He is going places, clearly.

Ace believes Carmichael has his sights set on homicide.

"How'd you go?" asks Sargent Carmichael.

"Dunno," says Ace. "We are just at the beginning."

"Any suspects?" asks Carmichael.

Ace turns and looks back at the young sergeant. "No, none of any consequence."

"Okay, sir."

Ace would never admit it, but he likes it when Carmichael calls him sir. There is something about the way he says it.


Duff, Zorad and Burrow’s assistant, watches them walk in, two fit handsome guys. Duff sits back and watches Ace and Duff pass by.

"What's the details?" asks Duff.

"I need you to find all the details you can on a Rupert Whippet," says Ace.

“What do you know already?”

“His wife is dead and he is missing,” says Ace. “Find out where he is.”


Ace closes the door behind Ben. Ace turns the lock. Ben pulls his pipe from his jacket pocket. Ace takes his jacket off, then he turns to Ben, busy with smoking accoutrement in his hands.

"Come here handsome." Ace manhandles Ben's jacket from him. "Take this off." He takes the pipe from Ben's hands. "That can wait."

Ace grabs Ben, pushes him up against the office wall and kisses him passionately.

"I want you."

"This case has really got you stressed out," says Ben.

"I need to stop thinking about it for a moment."

Ace pushes Ben over the desk. "Hey!" Ace puts his hand in the middle of Ben's back and pushes him face first over the desk.

"I’m glad I can be your distraction..."

"I know you like it." Ace reaches around and undoes Ben's pants. "It's why I like you." Ace rips Ben’s pants down. Ben feels the cold on the backs of his muscular thighs. Ace slide his fingers into the sexy crack in Ben’s arse. Ace licks his finger and slides it back into Ben’s arse. Saliva drips down in strings from Ace’s hand.

"Jesus!" says Ben. He lays his hands flat down on the top of the desk. He pushes back onto Ace’s finger. Ben has powerful legs covered in blond hair, the hair disappears into his arse crack.

Ace undoes his own pants and his hard cock springs into view. Ace spits in his hand. He spits again. He wipes the spit on his cock, it drips down onto the carpet.

"Did you lock the door?" asks Ben.

Ace spits into his hand wipes more spit into Ben's hairy crack.

"Duff may learn something," says Ace.

Ace spits into his hand again, he rubs his spit over his cock a few more times then lines it up. He pushes up against Ben's sphincter.

"Oh, fuck, Ace."

Ace pushes into Ben. "Come on baby, relax," says Ace. He strokes his hand along Ben's spine, up and down. "The door is locked."

"Ah, that feels..." says Ben. Ace pushes hard into Ben. "AH! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Ace's enormous cock slides into Ben's tight arse.

“You have the best arse, baby,” says Ace.

Ben moans loudly. Ace slides his hand around over Ben's mouth. "Shhhhhh." He pushes his dick all the way into Ben.

"Everything okay in there?" Duff's voice was on the other side of the door.

"Yes, good," says Ace. "Just working a few things through." Ace fucks Ben long and slow.

"He knows," grunts Ben, as he pushes back on Ace’s big dick.

"Let me know if I can help?" says Duff.

"Sure, he'd like to help," says Ben. Ben groans quietly, trying to stifle any sound, as he is filled up by Ace.

"No, that's okay," says Ace, as he fucks Ben quickly.

"Do you think he has a peep hole?" says Ben. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Oh my god!”

"You’d like that wouldn't you?" says Ace. He speaks quietly into Ben’s ear.

Ace pushes hard into Ben. "AH!" Ben Bleats.

Ace leans down to Ben’s ear. "Perhaps, he has a camera set up," he says quietly.

Ace stands up straight and strong and pushes hard into Ben again.

"AH!" Ben bleats.

Ace leans down to Ben’s ear again. "Do you want him to hear?"

"You want him to hear?" says Ben accusingly.

Ace pulls out of Ben. He reaches down and picks up Ben's undies. Ace stands up again, and reinserts into Ben as quickly as he can.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Ben moans long and low, as Ace’s huge cock slides back into him again, slides in until it can’t slide in any further, until it spears the wall of Ben’s anus. “Oh… fuck! Yeah!”

Ace reaches around and stuff Ben's patterned jocks in Ben's mouth.

Ben says something but it isn't audible.

Ace grabs Ben’s thighs and picks him up by the legs. Ace picks up the strokes. He pushes into Ben hard. Harder. Longer. He pushes into Ben again, he pushes into Ben again, he pushes into Ben again, until Ben starts to groan, deep down in his throat. The handsome blonde pushes back against his lover so he gets more of his lover inside him.

"Oh yeah," says Ace. "Oh! That's my boy." He is fucking Ben hard, his skin slaps against Ben’s skin.

Ben grunts and groans as he pulls himself underneath his stomach. His sexy arse is full of Ace's cock, like a greedy mouth, stuffed full. Ace turns sideways and fucks Ben hard. Ben masturbates furiously as Ace rams him.

Ace pulls out of Ben and masturbates quickly until he cums on Ben's shirt, up and down the back of Ben's shirt.

Ben grunts and moans and spasms as he cums all over the office floor.


Ace grunts and flicks his hands across the carpet. Ben moans as he stretches his arms out across the desk. Ace buttons up the fly on his jeans. He buckles up his belt. Ben stands up and tucks his shirt back into his pants. He smiles at Ace. Ace picks up Ben's jocks from the desk and wipes his forehead before he opens the top draw of his desk and drops Ben's jocks inside.

Ben flexes his shoulders. "Is the back of my shirt wet?"

"You'd better put your jacket on," says Ace.

"Great."

"I'm going to wash my hands."

The Death of Mrs Whippet

Detective Ace Zorad is a worried man. There is no evidence, no obvious signs, nothing is immediately apparent. The old girl is dead on the rug in the lounge room and there are no obvious signs of how she got there.

The photographer is doing his job. The medical team has just arrived and is starting to mark out the scene.

Ace’s partner, Ben Burrows leaves him standing next to the body and leaves the room.

“How long do you need?” Ace asks the medical team.

“The rest of the afternoon,” replies the medical examiner.


Ben exits the crime scene by the rear door. He walks down to the end of the garden, on the gravel path that crunches under his foot steps, where a nice Mandarin Tree grows next to the veggie patch. Poor Mrs Whippet, he thinks. He pulls a small gold pipe from his jacket pocket, which he grips between his lips, as he gets a small leather pouch from his other jacket pocket, from which he takes something dry and green that he pushes into the pipe, still between his lips. He folds the leather pouch and ties the string around it and places it back into his pocket. He removes a lighter from his pocket, where the pouch has just gone, flicking it until there is a flame. He lowers the flame to the pipe and sucks.


The back door bursts open. Ace is striding towards Ben.

"It beats me how the old girl ended up on the rug dead," says Ben.

"And you think that is going to help?" says Ace. He looks at the pipe in Ben’s hand as Ben sucks on it. He watches Ben exhale a cloud of smoke.

Ben Shrugs. Ace hates it when Ben smokes. Ben knows that.

"Your eyes are already red," says Ace. There is a demeaning tone to his words. He shakes his head.

“I have eye drops in the car,” says Ben. “When did you start worrying about…”

"There is nothing. No sign of injury. No sign of break in. Unless there is some medical history." Ace shrugs.

"Perhaps, it is suicide?"

"Ha ha!" says Ace. "That is the only thing I am sure it is not."

Ben slides the pipe back into his mouth, the metal mouthpiece hits his teeth, it makes him laugh, for no good reason. He flicks the lighter, tentatively. He giggles again. Nothing is funny. He sucks as the flame burns. He exhales the smoke. He looks up at his handsome lover.

"Oh Jesus! Look at you," says Ace.

"Fresh air," says Ben, before he realises he has said it out loud. It is only when he hears his own voice. He snorts amused. “All I needed was fresh air.”

"When I could really do with you as sharp as possible," says Ace. “You are out by the lemon tree…”

“Mandarin…” Ben turns to look at the tree.

“Whatever…”

He looks back at Ace. "You know it relaxes me." He shrugs. "I'm sharp."

"It makes you vague." Ace is dismissive.

"It puts me in the zone," insists Ben.

"But, can we wait until we are away from a crime scene."

“Why? Says Ben. “Are you worried about getting arrested?

There is a momentary silence. Ben flicks the lighter again. The pipe gurgles as it is lit. Gurgling. Flick, sounds the lighter. Ben coughs. The lighter flicks, and flick’s again.

Ben coughs. "There is no physical evidence." Ben’s voice is strained.

"No," says Ace. “Nobody has seen anything.”

"Are we taking about Mrs Whippet?" Ben holds the pipe up. "Or are we still talking about me?"


"Jesus Ben." Ace strides down the long garden path to the rear door to the property. He walks back. "She must have known them."

"She must have let them in."

Ace strides down the path again. And walks back. "Is there a Mr Whippet?"

"There sure is," says Ben. "Rupert Whippet. The neighbour told me when she came over for a sticky. She didn’t know where he was though."

"So where is he?"

"Work, I’m guessing."

"We’ll need to speak to him first," says Ace.

“You are talking about him like he is suspect number 1 and not a grieving husband.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

"Get the car," says Ace.

"You’re driving." Ben laughs. “You get the car.”


The sun is shinning brightly out in the street. Ben steps to the nature strips, as Ace does a fast u turn and pulls the charcoal grey Citroen Goddess up in front of Ben. He pulls the door handle and the frameless door swings open for him. Ben slides his arse into the passenger seat, with its big, soft cushions, and its Darth Vader headrests. Ben sinks down into the seat. The door clunks closed.

"It must be the husband, in that case," says Ben. "He must be suspect number 1."

"He sure is," says Ace."

"So, where is Mr Whippet?" says Ben.

“That is what we are going to find out first,” says Ace.


The Citroen’s tyres make a crunching sound on the debris in the gutter as the car accelerates into the traffic.

"Back to the station?" asks Ben.

"Aye Aye, detective."

"Let's go... detective."