This story takes place in 1967- The Summer of Love.
As he sat as his desk, he was the textbook definition of an authority figure. Dressed in his blue suit and grey tie, his badge attached to the left side of his belt. His ID card clipped to the breast pocket of his denim jacket. His short black hair was starting to gray. He had small, almond shaped eyes and full lips. His desk was cluttered with several long note pads which were filled with illegible writing.
I sat opposite him and focused on the fan in the corner of room. I clutched my small moccasin bag containing a small bottle of patchouli oil and a few coins. We were at odds from the beginning and the tension between us was growing.
“I’m going to ask you again, Miss, what is your name?” he asked as he adjusted his tie while slowly chewing his gum.
“I told you, my name is ‘Tranquility’,” I replied as I matched his eye contact.
He rubbed his eyes and shook his head.
“Do you have a last name ‘Tranquility’?” he asked with more than a strong hint of sarcasm.
“No. That is my name,” I replied.
“What the fuck?” he mumbled as he slammed his fist on the desk.
He picked up his pen and wrote my name on a form.
“So, what is your date of birth?” he asked.
“Which birth? Physical or spiritual? Do you want to know the day I was born into your world or the day I entered mine?” I replied speaking in a daze, reaching my inner voice.
“I want to know the day you physically came into this world,” he said sternly.
“Why does it matter?” I asked.
He grimaced at me. I knew he was angry. They’re always angry these people who live in a world of hate and war. I felt badly for the man.
“How old are you and give me a number and not your cosmic crazy hippie bullshit!” He yelled.
“I’m 16 if that makes any difference to you,” I said.
He nodded and wrote down my age next to my name.
“Why did you break my curfew? Southern City ordinance states that no one under the age of 21 is to be outside unsupervised during the hours of 11pm and 5am. You were picked up at 2:30am for loitering,” he explained.
I was barely listening.
“I don’t believe in curfews.” I stated.
“When was the last time you had a bath, Tranquility?”
“I don’t know, a day, a week. I don’t measure time like you do,” I said.
“Well, you’re being detained until you give us more information. We can’t reach your parents until we know who you are first. The sooner you talk, the sooner we can release you to them. Do you understand?”
“Understand is a subjective word, sir,” I said.
“Oh I hate these fucking hippies!” he exclaimed as he slammed his notepad on his desk.
“I’m not a ‘hippie’. I’m one of the ‘free people’,” I corrected.
“Well, ‘free person’, you’re being held until a parent or guardian claims you. In the meantime, you’re going to the showers and getting cleaned up. Come with me.”
I stood up and looked at him.
“Are you an Oriental?” I asked.
“Yes, yes I am,” he replied clearly not expecting the question.
“What is your name again?”
“Detective Chang,” he replied.
“Your name is ‘Detective’?”
He sighed and slapped his forehead.
“My name is Liu. Now tell me your name.”
“Back to Square One,” he groaned.
He led me to a bathroom which had a shower stall in the far left corner. He went to a cabinet and took out a towel, bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap.
“This is for your hair,” he explained as if I’ve never seen a bottle of shampoo before.
“This is for your body,” he said as he handed me the soap.
“I will leave you alone to shower. I will be back in about 20 minutes.”
He left the room and closed the door behind him. I looked up at at the pretty lights in the room and took off my white peasant top and slipped out of my long tie-dyed skirt. I didn’t like underclothes, so I never wore them. I stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water and under the shower head. I felt the warm water trickle down my naked body-naked except for the two strands of love beads around my neck.
I hummed and swayed under the water, washing away the scent of my patchouli oil. The water felt so good! I opened the bottle of shampoo and washed my long, blonde hair, letting the suds caress my breasts which were now getting hard. I pinched my nipples and sang songs of peace and love feeling it all around me when I heard the loud knock of the detective man at the door.
“Tranquility, are you OK in there?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
“Are you OK?” he asked again.
I smiled as I rinsed my hair and back.
“Tranquility!!” he shouted.
“Look, I’m coming in now,” he announced.
I licked my lips.
He walked in and slowly opened the shower curtain as I was rubbing my breasts.
“Shit!” he exclaimed.
“Why didn’t you answer me?” he said looking away and down at the floor.
“I don’t know,” I replied as I continued to fondle myself.
“Why don’t you look at me?” I asked.
“Because it wouldn’t be proper, it’s not proper for me to be in the room with you like this.”
“You don’t have any clothes on,” he replied as he swallowed hard.
“Tranquility, dry off, get dressed and we’ll discuss your situation some more.”
“Detective Liu, would you like to join me?” I asked extending my hand.
“No,” he replied.
“It wouldn’t be right.”
“It’s not right to take a shower?”
“Not with you, Tranquility.”
“I’m not afraid to be naked with you. Why are you afraid to be naked with me?”
“I’m not afraid…”
“Then take your clothes off and join me.”
“This is fuckin’ bullshit!” he mumbled as he shook his head and walked away. The man not only lived in a world of war, but also a world of hang-ups. I didn’t think he was beyond saving. No one is beyond saving.
He returned about a minute later.
“I locked the door,” he stated as he removed his tie and jacket. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled off his stark white undershirt. He skin looked so smooth, his nipples dark brown. He undid his belt and unzipped his pants. He was sexually aroused.
“There is room for you, Liu. Let us wash together.”
He smiled as I took his hand and he stepped into the shower with me.
I took the bar of soap and lathered up my hands and started washing his shoulders and chest. He had the most beautiful body. He was truly a work of art.
“Be free, be free,” I whispered as I washed him from his chest to his cock.
He leaned forward and pulled my head towards him, sticking his tongue deep inside my mouth. My breasts pressed against his chest as we kissed passionately under the shower. I gently stroked his cock, as I savored his moans of pleasure.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“Oh yes, very much so,” he whispered as he closed his eyes.
I knelt down and took him in my mouth. His hard cock slid deep inside my mouth. He slowly pumped his hips closer to my face as I caressed his upper thighs.
“Yeah, like that,” he moaned.
I looked up at him and watched look of pleasure on his face. He softly placed his hands on my head and pressed me closer to him. I sucked him in a slow, steady rhythm, tenderly fondling his balls.
Taking him out of my mouth, I stroked and licked the tip of his cock, much to his enjoyment and mine. I brushed his hardness against my cheek and lips, looking at him lustfully.
“Take me, detective,” I begged.
(To be continued)
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.