The Cop in the Bathroom Closet

INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Tim is a veteran police officer and a good husband and father who lives with his wife Brooke and their teenage son Josh and daughter Candice in an ordinary suburban house in Auckland, New Zealand.

Tim's sexual interests are simple - he enjoys straight heterosexual sex with his beautiful wife, and seems to have no fetishes or perversions. But one seemingly ordinary Friday, a series of events puts Tim in the wrong place at the wrong time - in the bathroom closet when his daughter's best friend Natasha (a nervous and nerdy 18-year-old Asian girl) enters to use the toilet. Suddenly Tim is getting turned on by observing private things that he would never have though sexy in a million years. What will he do?

Please note that 'The Cop In the Bathroom Closet' is a very strong and graphic fetish story that has subject themes that involve the voyeurism of a female character using the toilet and menstruation. If these subjects are not your thing, this story is probably not for you and you may be best to avoid it. Otherwise, please enjoy your trip to New Zealand (the setting of very few Literotica stories) and rate and comment.

All characters are aged 18 and over, and all characters and events portrayed are fictional, with any similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional. For those unfamiliar with NZ sexual slang, the word 'fanny' is used for vagina on several occasions. And if you are familiar with NZ, you would probably know that the main character's name would be pronounced not 'Tim' but 'Tum'!

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What is it with kids, even the best of kids, choosing friends that drive their parents crazy?

My wife and I Brooke had two great kids in the late 1990s, first our son Josh and then our daughter Candice a year later and we couldn't have wished for a better son and daughter. Josh was tall and slim like me and resembled me facially, but had inherited the red hair of my older sister Laura. Candice was like a younger version of Brooke, inheriting her Mum's blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and slim stature and pretty face.

Josh and Candice were good students and loved sports as Brooke and I did. Josh played rugby union in the winter and cricket in the summer, while Candice was good at netball and played women's cricket in the summer, as Brooke had also done when she was a girl. We were a typical nuclear family - a mother who worked as a doctor, a father who worked as a police officer, son and daughter - living in the suburbs of Auckland, New Zealand.

It was at rugby when aged about 12 that Josh made friends with Chris, a lazy gamer with ADHD who had been sent to do sports by his long-suffering parents and pediatrician who thought that their son should get out and see the Long White Clouds in the Land of the Long White Cloud once in a while, rather than spending his days in front of a computer.

For some reason Brooke and I could never fathom, our normally sensible son Josh and Chris despite having absolutely nothing in common became friends and we along with Candice could only join Chris's long-suffering parents and sister in a state of despair from that point on.

Besides being addicted to computer games, Chris also was addicted to videos of people - usually teenage boys - filming themselves doing stupid stunts and being ADHD, tried to do similar stunts of his own. Climbing up on his parents' roof with a garden hose and using it to piss off the aggressive dogs next door, antagonizing a kiwi until the bird chased and attacked him, bending over in front of a sheep so it butted his rear end, plunging headlong into a stack of toilet paper at a supermarket, climbing onto the back of a tradesman's truck and then truck surfing on the Auckland motorway and scaring an old lady by dressing up in a demon costume before leaping out of the bushes roaring at her were among the more memorable of these antics.

However, Chris really outdid himself one day at a visit to the Auckland Sky Tower, where he deliberately shook up a can of soft drink and sprayed it all over a man who was there with his family and minding his own business. Unfortunately, this man was a Maori who stood six foot six, had muscles that made him weigh close to 20 stone and a variety of tattoos, including 'Love' tattooed on one hand and 'Hate' on the other. The Maori was needless to say unimpressed by being sprayed by icy cold soft drink, and it took all my police negotiation skills to calm him down and stop Chris getting his head smacked in, although it might have taught him a lesson if I had turned my back and let the Maori take his revenge.

Fortunately, Chris was no longer part of our lives, his parents had grown sick of him and sent him off to live with relatives in Hamilton. The Waikato region was a bit too close for Brooke's and my own liking, we would have preferred him to be off the North Island completely and in Christchurch or Dunedin on the South Island, but at least he was gone and Josh was mixing with better friends.

Candice was glad to see the end of the obnoxious Chris, but she had herself brought into our lives a friend that Brooke and I despaired about in the form of Natasha. Natasha had been in our lives since the girls were in kindergarten and was still part of our lives years later, with Candice and Natasha now 18-year-old university students.

Like with Josh and his stupid buddy Chris, it was hard to imagine what caused Candice and Natasha to become friends, or best friends forever as the girls described themselves. They were complete opposites in looks and personality. Shy, skittish Natasha was short in stature and of Chinese origin, so her Asian looks with black hair and dark eyes could not have contrasted more with our out-going, confident tall, fair-skinned, blue-eyed daughter. It started when Brooke and I collected Candice from kindergarten and our daughter asked if her new friend Natasha could come and play with her on the weekend. Pleased that our daughter had made a new little friend so quickly, Brooke and I said, 'Of course she can, as long as it's okay with her parents.'

To be fair to Natasha, she wasn't really a problem. She was always polite and well-behaved, not like our son's idiot mate Chris, and definitely not a bad influence upon Candice. However, she was one of the most nervous and highly strung kids I had ever met, and one only had to meet Natasha's mother Mary to find out why.

On the first day when Mary brought her daughter over to play with Candice, Mary had coffee in the kitchen with Brooke and myself while the two girls played together happily. Mary was much older than us, aged in her early 50s while we were both in our early 30s at the time. It wasn't a case of one kid's parents chatting with another kid's parents about our children's hobbies and interests, sport, the weather, movies and television or the like, it was like we were being interviewed for a contract up for tender, or something similar.

Kids with celiac disease - gluten intolerance - were not uncommon. Nor were kids with lactose intolerance, peanut allergies and asthma. But until meeting Natasha, I would never have believed that a kid could have all four of these conditions. Brooke's little joke about feeding the girls wholegrain peanut butter sandwiches with a glass of milk for lunch was not well received by Natasha's mother, and Mary also fretted about Josh, his cousin and a friend running around the back garden playing rugby. Mary stressed that we were not to let Natasha go out and play with the boys, as she was way too delicate for such rough games.

Leaving Natasha with us for the play date stressed Mary no end, and she called our house three times during the day to make sure her daughter was okay, even though I was a cop and Brooke a doctor, probably the two occupations of parents supervising kids one would want most. When we got to know Mary more over the following years, it became a little clearer to us why she was the way she was.

Brooke and I had met and married relatively young, and decided in our mid 20s that now was the time to have kids. We had sex at the midway point of Brooke's cycle, three weeks later Brooke said 'I'm late', had a craving honey and jam sandwiches, began to put on weight for another reason other than the excessive consumption of honey and jam sandwiches and nine months after having sex, Brooke gave birth to our son. Rinse and repeat twelve months later for our daughter.

Having had kids so easily, it was hard for us to imagine how difficult it would have been for somebody with fertility problems. Mary's first marriage had ended when her husband left and divorced her because she couldn't conceive, the man promptly marrying another woman and having three kids. Mary had finally met somebody else, a much older divorcee who had two adult sons from his first marriage, and after several years and thousands of dollars of IVF, gave birth to Natasha at age 45.

It was understandable that Natasha's mother should be so protective of her child after waiting so long for one, but Mary took things to an extreme. Poor Natasha had so many health problems as it was, but Mary kept looking for new medical conditions that her daughter might suffer from and stressing out about it. Brooke, being a doctor, copped the worst of it. We thought that the problems might get better as Natasha got older, but they didn't.

"Next time Tim, you deal with Mary stressing out over Natasha's period lasting six days rather than the usual five days," said a most unimpressed Brooke as she got into bed one evening, exhausted after a 45 minute phone call with Mary about the subject.

"Now honey, you were the one who went to medical school, passed her exams to become a doctor and swore her Hippocratic Oath," I reminded my wife.

Mary continued to fret over anything and everything with Natasha throughout adolescence. Once Candice and Natasha went to Wellington on an eight day school camp with their high school. Mary had worried about her daughter so much that on the weekend she and Natasha's father had driven all the way down to New Zealand's capital to check on her, much to Natasha's embarrassment.

What Natasha's father Henry thought about all this was something that Brooke and I never knew. Henry was a quiet, unobtrusive man small in stature who kept to himself. It must have been a shock for Henry having raised two healthy sons to become a father to a daughter with so many health problems at an older stage in his life.

Of course, all these health problems combined with her mother's fretting and helicopter parent helped turn Natasha into a nervous and neurotic kid, and also very socially awkward. Her problems with nerves were displayed one day when she was at our house, went into Candice's bedroom and saw a rubber snake on our daughter's bed. The snake was a prop for a high school play Candice was in, but as soon as Natasha saw it, she fell to the floor in a dead faint. New Zealand was one of the few places on Earth - Ireland and Hawaii two other rare examples - where there were no snakes but despite Natasha's chances of ever encountering a snake being zero she was so frightened of them that she passed out helpless at the sight of a fake one.

Looks-wise, Natasha had grown into quite a beauty in her teens with pretty Chinese features and a slim, petite figure, but she fitted the unfortunate 'Asian Nerd' stereotype quite well, both in personality and looks. She wore glasses due to poor eyesight, and when younger she had also worn orthodontic braces. But several years after having them removed, Natasha's mother decided that her daughter's teeth were not quite straight enough, so poor Tash was stuck wearing braces again at age 18.

One thing about Natasha that was very obvious was that she had a huge crush on Josh, and would follow our son around trying to talk to him in her shy, nervous and awkward way. But despite the fact that Natasha was without doubt a very pretty 18-year-old girl and clearly interested, Josh was horrified by the prospect of Natasha crushing on him, as he had never had any time for her. He tried to avoid her as much as possible, and hated family and friends teasing him about him and his not so secret admirer.

A definite about Natasha was that she could never hold the same occupations as our immediate family. With me a police officer, Brooke a doctor, Josh a trainee firefighter and Candice at university studying to be a paramedic, they were all occupations that involved high stress levels and dealing with emergency situations. Natasha could never cope in such a role, and while she and Natasha attended the same university her major was computer science, a sound choice for her as she was very good with IT matters.

Also fortunate was that Natasha lived in Auckland in the North Island, rather than the South Island city of Christchurch. There was no way Natasha could have functioned living in a city badly hit by series of earthquakes late in 2010 preceding the devastating earthquake of February 2011, and living with the threat of further quakes since then.

Brooke and I obviously worked shifts in our occupations, and I was lucky to have two rostered days off in a row on a fine and sunny Thursday and Friday with no weekend shifts, giving me four days off. Brooke had been coming off night shifts and had Thursday off, so we worked in our garden together. Brooke had to work a day shift on Friday, and I had a few things I needed to do. My car needed a service and I had a dental appointment, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone.

Dropping my car off at the dealership I walked to the dental appointment, but when I arrived was advised that my dentist had fallen ill with a migraine at short notice and the receptionist was struggling to reallocate her appointments to the other two overworked dentists. I ended up rescheduling and caught the bus home where the house was empty apart from the cat. Brooke was at work as was Josh and Candice was either at university or work, it was hard to keep track of her student schedule.

There had been a job that I needed to do that I kept forgetting about, fixing the shelves in the bathroom cupboard. The main bathroom had an unusual design with a very large cupboard similar in size to a walk in wardrobe one would find in a bedroom. The bathroom cupboard was mainly used to store sheets, towels, cleaning supplies, extra toilet paper and soap and the like. The doors were not solid, but panels of overlapping slats. If standing outside the cupboard one could not see inside, but if inside the cupboard one could see out.

Getting my screwdrivers and other hand tools I went into the cupboard and set to work, but while I had always been a good home handyman these dumb shelves were like some impossible puzzle, not dissimilar to put-it-together yourself furniture kit that seemed to have been designed to drive people insane.

I had opened a window at the back of the house to let some of the nice New Zealand air into the house, when a gust of wind came up, blew into the house and slammed closed the doors of the bathroom cupboard. I didn't have anything to worry about - the doors could be opened from the inside so I wasn't locked in and the closet light was on so I had plenty of illumination, but the doors slamming closed did make me jump. At this point I was engaged in a battle of wills with the stubborn shelf - the shelf beating me with the same ease as the New Zealand All Blacks did to the Australian Wallabies in the rugby - so did not move to open the door.

From outside I heard Candice's car pull in and then the front door open, my daughter's voice filling the house to announce she was home. Candice was not blessed with a quiet voice and so one could often hear her before one could see her.

"You could have waited in the car, I only need to collect a couple of things and I'll be two minutes at most," said Candice.

I then heard Natasha's softer voice. "I need to go to the toilet, Candice."

"Well, knock yourself out Tash, you know where it is."

For some reason I didn't react to this for some 10 seconds or so, just continued working on the shelf until it suddenly hit me like a bolt of lightning that Natasha would come in here to use the toilet and I stopped short, my body completely rigid. Josh and Candice shared this bathroom, the main bathroom in the house. When they had friends over and their friends got the call of nature, they always used the main bathroom, never the small ensuite bathroom that was Brooke and my bathroom. And the girls of course had no idea that I was home, my car wasn't there and I had told my daughter of my dental appointment so she assumed I was out. But by the time I realized what was going to happen, it was too late to prevent it. Natasha's skinny little teenage body, attired in a white tee-shirt with a cartoon Kiwi bird on the front, short black skirt and white open shoes that showed off her feet entered the bathroom, turned on the light and closed and locked the door behind herself, before walking towards the toilet, massaging her tummy.

In the closet, I just stood there watching through the slats as Natasha checked that there was adequate toilet paper on the roll. It was like I was frozen, stuck to the spot. Even as I stood there, my mouth agape I wondered why I hadn't stepped out of the closet and then exited the bathroom like a normal person would. Obviously I had never been in this situation before, concealed in a bathroom closet when a teenage girl entered to use the toilet, but why hadn't I done the sensible thing? For fuck's sake, I was a cop, a sergeant in the police force. In my career I had had to make split second decisions in high pressure and emergency situations, but in this particular situation, I had just stood there, hopeless and stunned.

Now it was definitely too late. There was nearly a full roll of soft, double-ply toilet paper with pink floral print on the toilet roll holder, so Natasha put down the toilet seat and stood in front of the loo. My eyes felt like they would pop out of their sockets as young Natasha lifted up her short black skirt to show her panties.

Natasha's knickers were cotton bikini style panties, pure white in color. The pristine purity of Natasha's teen panties, made so much sexier by the simplicity of the plain white cotton fabric, had to my dismay an immediate effect upon me, and I could feel the front of my shorts and undies getting tight as my erection grew.

'Tim, stop perving on her panties, she's your daughter's best friend and the girl is just 18-years-old,' my conscience reprimanded me. 'Tim, turn around and give the poor girl at least some privacy.'

But again, I was unable to move and simply kept looking at Natasha's knickers. Then I noticed at the front that her knickers looked somehow wrong, like there was something inside them, something oblong in shape. Oh no! Was she wearing a sanitary pad? Was she on her period? I remembered seeing her massaging her tummy when she came into the bathroom, did she have menstrual cramps? This made it all so much worse, yet still I couldn't look away. I knew I shouldn't be watching Natasha pull her knickers down to sit on the loo, I knew I should have covered my eyes to prevent seeing her pussy, but again I did nothing, just stood in the closet staring at the poor girl who of course was completely unaware of my presence.

Natasha took hold of her panty waistband and began to pull her knickers down. My erection throbbed as her pubic hair came into view. I was a little surprised to see that she had quite a muff of black curls on her female mound, I thought most girls Natasha's age shaved down there, but young Natasha was obviously an exception to the current trend and left her pubes intact.

As Natasha pulled her panties further down her spindly legs, I first saw the wings of her sanitary pad holding it in place to her knickers and then the pad itself. The white cover of the pad as to be expected was covered in massive red stains from Natasha's period blood. I shouldn't have been turned on by this, I tried to tell myself that I wasn't getting turned on by perving on the teenager's soiled sanitary napkin, my conscience told me that the menstruating Natasha needed even more privacy and that I was a sick fuck for looking at a girl my daughter's age like this but still I got more turned on, still I couldn't look away and still my erection got harder.