Daniel caught up with Greg and Abigail, slightly winded from the jog. Greg gave him a concerned look. "You alright man? You've been spacey today. More so than normal." Daniel's eyes widened in panic for a moment, before murmuring a response. "It's nothing. Just, uh, didn't get enough sleep the last few days." Greg studied his friend for a few moments before nodding, not entirely convinced.
The trio continued walking through Central Park, making small talk. Daniel was more preoccupied with The Scribe and wasn't paying much attention. Suddenly, someone yelled. "STOP! You are under arrest!" A ragged man in dirty, patchwork clothing bolted past the trio, clutching a designer purse. Aibigail shrieked in fright and Greg interposed himself between her and the mugger.
"Come back here!" A tall man with mocha skin bounded down the path, full tilt. Daniel's critical eye took in his features in a moment. He was tall, at least 6'3", broad shouldered and thick, powerful legs that were propelling him forward. He wore a short, black goatee and his face was set in a ferocious determined glare. His build was powerful and set. His regulation NYPD uniform stretched and strained with his every stride. A shiny badge revealed his name to be Officer Johnson.
The mugger had rounded a corner and the police officer was moments behind. Greg was panting slightly in surprise. "Wow. Never a dull moment in this city. Abigail glared at Greg. "Right, that was 'fun.' C'mon, lets go back to your apartment. I've had enough 'fun' for a day." Greg solemnly nodded.
"Uh, I'm going to stay. Enjoy the fresh air. I think I need it." Daniel gave his friend a withering smile. Greg leveled a stare at him, but didn't argue. Greg and Abigail started back towards home as Daniel started writing in The Scribe.
"Officer Johnson is wearing his lucky jockstrap, a well worn, navy blue XL. He needs it, to contain his prominent manhood. He loves wearing it, and wears it often, as he always seems to have luck wearing it. Despite his best efforts, the jock always peeks out of his slacks."
Daniel started jogging after the Officer, to see what the results of his newest addition. He idly scratched at his lower back. His lucky jock itched when he didn't wash it enough.
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Officer Johnson had cornered the perp in a restroom. Both were panting heavily. A nagging feeling in Officer Johnson's head said something wasn't right. The mugger was sitting on the dirty floor of the bathroom, his flabby gut peeking out from his dirty, too-small shirt. His beard was scraggly and tangled. His face was haggard, showing every bit of his 40 years. "Please, I just needed some money, Offsure! Please!" The mugger pleaded.
Officer Johson thought carefully, idly holding his rotund musclegut. He wasn't the spry 25 year old, but he tried to keep up an active routine at 35. He had long ago stopped worrying overly much about his appearance, only his goatee was maintained by regulation. He dug a finger into his waistband, playing with the worn elastic of his jock. He grinned. "Well it's your lucky day punk. I'll let ya go, but only if you satisfy me."
The mugger gulped heavily, eyeing the thick bulge under the cops gut.
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Daniel crept into the bathroom. He had to ask a few passerby's where the cop went to, before a homeless man pointed him in the right direction. He stopped at the privacy divider, craning his neck hoping to hear what was going on. The only thing he heard was some low moaning a the distinct sound of someone slurping on cock. Daniel's eyes bulged and his massive dick twitched in his lucky jock. Slowly, he poked his head around the corner.
Standing in the center of the bathroom was Officer Johnson. His uniform slacks were part-way down at his knees, and his hairy black-ass was framed by a navy-blue jockstrap. The mugger was crouched down in front of the cop, mostly obscured by Johnson's wide body. Daniel tried to process the scene, taking note that both the mugger and Officer Johnson seemed portlier and older. "Shit! They were running in front of me, so my last entry affected them as well!" Chastised himself internally.
Daniel pulled his head back, to avoid being spotted. He pulled out The Scribe, flipping it open. He stared at his latest entries. "Did I make Officer Johnson gay? And a crooked cop? Or was he always like that!?" He contemplated what to do with the sound of 'police justice' playing in the background.