a lady cop

The young woman stepped off the bus and looked around in awe at the towering buildings of New York City. She turned and stared at the busy street and sidewalk filled with cars and pedestrians.

“Excuse me Miss, but might you be a model,” said a husky voice behind her.

The woman turned to see a well-dressed black man addressing her. “Well I’m looking to become an actress, but I would consider modeling,” she replied.

“Excellent,” said the black man smiling at her. “Here is my card. Give me a call if your looking for work. My name is Latrell.”

“Angel,” replied the woman looking at the card, it read, E&I Modeling Agency.

“Nice to meet you Angel,” said Latrell holding out his hand. She took it, noticing how little her hand looked as it disappeared into his big black one. His grip was strong but gentle. “Don’t lose that card,” he said tucking a copy of the Wall Street Journal under his arm and walking down the sidewalk.

‘Contact,’ thought Officer Angela DeSabitini watching him walk away. This had been her fifth attempt to make contact with the man who recruited young women into the porn industry. He hadn’t been waiting at the bus stop the previous four times, but this time she had spotted him sitting on the bench before the bus had even stopped. Angela knew she was an attractive woman, but at thirty she was a little worried Latrell wouldn’t approach her. She shouldn’t have worried, she had watched him out of the corner of her eyes as he immediately zoomed in on her large Italian breasts.

Angela gathered her bags from the bus driver and hailed a taxi to take her home.

********************

Angela dialed the number on the business card and waited a second before a nasally female voice answered the phone, “E&I Modeling, How may I direct your call?”

Angel calling for Latrell, please,”

“Please hold.”

Angela held another second before Latrell got on the line. “Angel, I’m so glad you called. So are you looking for work? We’d love to represent you.”

“Yes Latrell, I’m very interested.”

“Great, Can you come in today for an interview?”

“Sure, anytime.”

“Come on in around noon, bring your portfolio and be prepared to take a couple of test shots.” Angela said she’d be there and hung up the phone. She was flushed with excitement and her pulse was raising. She was surprised to find that the excitement of going undercover had her feeling horny, but then she seemed to be horny all the time over the last year, since Maria was born and her husbands accident.

********************

Angela stepped out of the cab and looked at the old warehouse near the wharf. It looked shady, the kind of place one would hide a porn studio. If the stupid courts hadn’t lost Ann Dutton’s statement she would be leading a raid on the warehouse instead of sneaking around undercover. Angela walked around to the side of the warehouse and up the short stairway to the entrance. She peered through the window, seeing nothing and then knocked on the door. Angela saw Latrell appear, he waved at her, then opened the door. “Angel, I’m so glad you could make it, come on in.”

Angela entered the building and followed Latrell down the hall. Her keen mind taking in her surroundings, looking for evidence, and planning a route to get out in case of discovery. The warehouse was huge, but mostly abandoned. They passed several sets, including the beach scene Ann had posed in, and entered a small waiting room. A blonde woman in her late thirties was sitting at the desk. “Carol, please tell Tyrone that I’ here to see him with a new model,” said Latrell.

The woman got up and entered the office, returning a few seconds later. “Go on in, Mr Jones is expecting you.”

Angela followed Latrell into a sparsely decorated office. A giant dark skinned black man with a large flat nose, sat behind a large desk. He held out a big beefy hand and she took it, though he didn’t bother getting up. This was the man who had posed with Ann Dutton in the magazine. If the pictures hadn’t been faked-and she was sure they were- he had the biggest, thickest, penis she had ever seen.

“Angel, a pleasure to meet you. Let’s see your portfolio,” said Tyrone.

“I’m afraid I don’t have one,” she replied. “I’m really interested in acting, but when Latrell offered to give me a shot modeling, I thought I’d give it a try.

“Then I’m sorry too, I was very interested in you, but I need to see how you look on film. Unless, of course, you’d be willing to model some clothes for us now and then we could get Latrell to take some shots of you.”

“Sure, I’d be happy too.”

“Carol, please show this young lady to the dressing room,” called Tyrone. Carol came in from the waiting room and Angela followed her out.

She was relieved to be out of the room with the two black men. She was very aware of their presence. She found their size to be very intimidating, their very presence overwhelmingly masculine.

Carol showed her the dressing room and told her to pick out a swimsuit to wear before leaving. Angela looked through the swimsuits, there were one pieces, two pieces, and some that were virtually just strings. She picked out a bikini, skimpy but modest compared to the string bikini’s and set it aside.

Angela turned around and looked at the mirror. This was the hard part, if she busted these guys and pictures of her in a bikini got passed around the police station, she’d die from embarrassment, but she really didn’t have much choice.

Angela had been well dressed in a blue silk blouse and a knee length skirt. She let the skirt fall to the floor and unbuttoned the blouse, leaving her clad in a modest bra and panties. She removed her underwear and smiled at her nude body. Angela had always looked good, with a lean build and big heavy Italian breasts, however her pregnancy had put fifty pounds on her two years ago. Angela had used her free time and sexual frustration towards an intensive work out that now had her fitter and in better shape then she was as an eighteen year old, twelve years ago. Her muscles were well defined, you could see the outline of her abs above her navel, but she was sill more feminine then tough looking.