Elana is excited by the call

"Nine Bravo Six, be advised, Code Two, to Dempsey Park at Wellington, for a six-four-seven-Alpha."

Officer Elana Reynolds felt her pulse quicken at the call. She wouldn't admit it, not publicly, but she got a little thrill every time she had to deal with public lewdness. Something about the brazenness and the exhibitionist nature of it all was kind of... hot.

Her hand leapt to the radio, and she called back to Dispatch. "Copy that. This is unit Nine Bravo Six. Show us responding," she said, perhaps a little too eagerly. She hoped her partner wouldn’t notice the slight breathless edge to her voice.

She looked over at him in the passenger seat. Officer Tony Sharpe looked like a wreck, like a shell of the man she had come to appreciate and admire, and she couldn't help but feel sympathetic. Between working their grueling shifts and then going home to a four-month-old baby, he was barely holding on. Apparently, his daughter was going through a sleep regression; Elana had no idea what that actually meant, but she could see the effects plainly enough. There were heavy bags around his eyes, and his normally roguish stubble was decidedly unkempt. She was used to having a partner who looked like he’d be right at home in one of those sexy fundraising calendars, but today he looked like he was auditioning for a zombie flick.

Sharpe groaned. "Stupid college," he said with a half-chuckle. "I don't even know if I have it in me to get out of this car."

"Then just stay here," Elana offered quickly. She hoped her sympathy for his situation would mask her eagerness to go it alone. Her heart raced at the thought of watching the couple for a moment before breaking them up. She wouldn't have that opportunity if Sharpe came along.

"What? No, I’ll come with you."

"I’m serious," she insisted. "We’re only a few blocks away. I’ll walk over there, stretch my legs for a bit, and we both know it’s just a few kids wanting to get frisky. I don’t need your muscle - they’ll flee from anyone in a uniform." She said that, but she couldn't help but think they wouldn't feel all that intimidated by Sharpe looking as unkempt as he did today. His shirt wasn't even tucked in properly.

He looked at her with dreary, reddened eyes and sighed. "Yeah, OK," he conceded, "But radio in if you need anything." His head already started drifting back against the headrest before he finished talking.

Elana left the cruiser and strode toward Dempsey Park at a brisk pace. The wind danced playfully with a few errant locks of her brown hair that had managed to escape the loose, comfortable bun she had tied earlier. As she walked under the afternoon sun, she found herself thankful for the breeze; it was a hot enough day that she had even left the top button of her uniform open, and the heat she felt while fantasizing about public sex only amplified it.

​She didn't consider herself an exhibitionist - that was a line she didn’t dare cross - and it wasn't as if she ever stopped long to watch the people she was called to deal with, but she simply found the act itself incredibly exciting. It was brazen, it was bold... and it was deliciously hot. Even as she walked, she could feel herself growing aroused at the mere thought of it. If anyone found out she felt this way, it would be wholly embarrassing, but she was more than happy to let her mind wander and enjoy her kink when she could.

​The fantasy came crashing down, however, as she drew closer to Dempsey Park and noticed a busy crowd surrounding the fountain. She knew exactly what that usually meant. "​Great," she thought to herself, "It’s probably just some drunk frat boy passed out with his dick hanging out. That’s entirely less fun."

Elana crossed the last street and made it to Dempsey Park. Looking at the crowd, she began to regret her decision to go it alone. There was always safety in numbers, and these numbers definitely didn't favor her. She thought about radioing Sharpe and waiting for him to arrive before proceeding, but the abundance of smartphones raised above the crowd, recording whatever was happening inside, changed her mind. She couldn't have him show up looking like the walking dead and have social media tear him apart. She still needed to radio him over, but if she engaged now, she'd probably be able to thin out the crowd a bit before he arrived. That was probably the right move.

​"Sharpe, I have a crowd gathered at the fountain in Dempsey Park. Probably related to our six-four-seven-Alpha. Over," she said into her radio.

​The sound of a woman moaning loudly and a wet, rhythmic slapping from the middle of the crowd affirmed her theory before Tony could even radio back.

​"Copy that. I'll meet you there," his voice crackled.

​Elana instantly regretted calling him in as she felt the heat between her legs blossom again. This wasn't just a passed-out frat boy, this was full-on, carnal, blatant and brazen public sex. She felt her face flush with arousal but tried to shake it off. With her soft facial features and athletic, yet curvy body, Elana sometimes had a hard enough time projecting the authority she needed as an officer of the law. She couldn't afford to show up blushing and stammering like an immature schoolgirl.

​"Police!" she yelled as she approached the crowd. "Let me through!"

​Her sudden appearance made several people jump, but they all cooperated, parting to make a path for her. She almost felt like Moses parting the red sea; it all happened so smoothly and quickly that she even forgot to tell them to move along or stop recording, an oversight she instantly regretted when she reached the center and saw the stunning scene taking place. It exceeded all her fantasies and expectations. It was way more lewd than the usual teens getting brave in the park. What Elana saw made her nipples pinch and her loins throb.

Braced against the wall of the fountain were a man and a woman engaged in a vigorous fuck. The man had dark skin and was pretty scrawny with scruffy brown hair. He was wearing a baggy blue shirt that looked two sizes too big on his twig-like body, but he pistoned into his partner with an impressive tenacity that seemed to defy his build. Based on the woman's moans and praise, he was doing a good job, but his performance wasn't what made Elana pause and wish she could join

It was the woman.

The woman looked like the embodiment of sex. She was bent over the wall of the fountain, moaning loudly, her mouth agape and adorned by a pair of bright red, inflated lips. Her boobs were so comically out of proportion with the rest of her body, that it was clear she didn't have them enhanced simply for confidence issues. No, she wanted to stand out. They were bigger than her head and barely moved when the guy pounded into her. In contrast, her long platinum blonde hair was styled into a pair of pigtails that swung in time with the guy's relentless thrusts. The only bit of clothing left on her body was a tiny tartan skirt, barely thicker than a belt, that was left dangling around her wasp thin waist. While Elana had contemplated plastic surgery before (more as a hypothetical what-if than actual consideration), the woman's body was certainly more **** than Elana would ever consider for herself, but she couldn't avoid the heat that coursed through her body as she admired the woman's dedication to looking like a sex object.

The whole scene was enough to set Elana's heart aflutter. The woman’s wailing moans, the sheer brazenness and boldness of it all, the rhythmic pat-pat-pat of the man's hips against her bubble butt, the crowd cheering, hollering, recording... it was so much more than her typical 647 calls. It ignited something deep and primal within Elana. For the first time ever, she pictured herself as that woman. She imagined herself leaning over the barren concrete barrier, screaming like a banshee for everyone to hear. She imagined feeling him pump in and out of her relentlessly with a vigor that didn’t match his physique. She saw her own dark brown hair fashioned into pigtails, swaying in perfect time with his thrusts.

​Her heart rate quickened, and her breaths grew shallow. It was fascinating. It was captivating. It was-

​"They look like they're having fun, don't they?"

​The male voice came from behind her. It wasn't part of the general roar of the crowd. It felt closer, like it was directed at her. The voice didn't startle her. It felt almost familiar and it snaked around her mind like a soft scarf. Elana could only nod softly as she continued to watch the couple fuck.

​"You don't want to stop them, do you?" the voice whispered.

​She didn't. She didn't want to stop them at all. She wanted to watch. She wanted to join in. It was so... hot.

​"Police!"

​A different male voice shouted from behind her, shattering the trance. It was a voice she absolutely recognized. The baritone timbre shook everyone around as Officer Tony Sharpe approached the crowd.

​Elana shook herself from her stupor. Her mind snapped back as she assessed the reality of her situation. She got lost in her own head and the thought of how many cameras had caught her staring made her cheeks flush. She needed to act. Now.

​"Sir! Ma'am! Police! You need to stop!" she commanded. Years of training managed to cut through her weakness and give her a voice of authority. Her hand reached for the cuffs on her belt and she stepped forward to grab the scrawny man’s arm.

​"Leave it to the brute to ruin things once again," the other male voice said.

​Elana looked over her shoulder to see who was talking. Based on what he had been saying he clearly wasn't just another bystander, and what she saw confirmed it. While the rest of the crowd was focused on Officer Sharpe or the exhibitionist couple, there was one man whose attention was solely on her.

​He stood a few paces away and watched her with a combined expression of intrigue and annoyance, punctuated with a wry smile. Aside from that unnerving gaze, he was completely uninteresting. His hair was an indistinguishable shade somewhere between blonde and brown. His build was neither fat nor slim, neither fit nor weak. He was just an average man, or so she first thought, but Elana felt her gaze inexplicably tug downwards and when she acquiesced, she noticed a massive tent in his otherwise boring slacks. The man was packing some serious heat in his groin and it was at full mast beneath his pants.

Elana blushed and averted her gaze before looking back at his dull eyes. "Sir, please back away and let us deal with this," she said, trying to maintain her portrait of authority.

"Oh, I can back away for now," he replied with a sinister grin. He took a step back and proceeded to sit down on a man posed like a bench, something Elana had neglected to notice before that point. The too-ordinary man's erection pushed against his slacks and created a tall pyramid of fabric that Elana had a hard time looking away from a second time.

"But it's not yet time for you to deal with anything..." he said.

Elana looked back up at his face and...