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The Traffic Stop

By: Orgone5



Trevor knew his goose was cooked when he saw the flashing red and blue lights in his mirror.

"Damn, I'm screwed!" he swore. He stepped on his brakes but it was too late. The cruiser had already pulled up behind Trevor's black Celica while the cars around him were moving discreetly into other lanes and going around. 

State troopers are so damned sneaky, thought Trevor. They go out of their way to nail you during holidays.  This one had been hiding on the side of the highway behind some trees on a bluff, invisible after sundown. As far as Mike could tell, he had been going about 75 miles per hour. Unfortunately, the posted speed limit was only sixty. Just stay calm, he told himself. Act surprised and maybe you'll get off with a warning. But he had a bad feeling as he steered his car onto the berm. 

The trooper, wearing a dark, olive-green uniform and a Smokey-the-Bear hat, emerged from his cruiser and ambled slowly up to Trevor's door. "Can I see your driver's license, please?" the officer said, , shining his flashlight at Trevor's chest. 

"Yes, of course, sir," said Trevor. Ordinarily he didn't call anyone "sir," but it seemed a prudent thing to do now. Awkwardly he retrieved his wallet from his rear pocket and started to hand his license out through the window. But just then he looked at the officer's blond hair and cleanly-shaven face, and his jaw dropped. In fact, a small laugh escaped his lips. 

"Holy shit! Mike, is that you?" 

The trooper, who was well over six feet tall and well built, stepped closer and peered down through the window. His eyes widened a little. "Well, who have we here?" he asked. "Trevor Andrews, right? It's been a long time, Trevor." 

Several years earlier, the two young men had graduated from high school together in Norwich, Connecticut. They hadn't exactly been best friends, but they had spent four years attending many classes together as well as playing on the varsity baseball team. Mike had the reputation in school of being the class clown, so Trevor was surprised to see him in a police uniform with a black leather gun holster. But under the circumstances, he was glad to see him again.

"I'm doin' great, dude, how about you? I heard you applied to the police academy but I didn't know you were, like, a real cop."

"I was lucky. I was accepted into the accelerated training program and I passed the state peace officer's certification exam in August," he said. "So things are going okay,I guess. Are you still in college? "

"Yeah, third year at Brown. It's tough, but I like it. I'm majoring in political science."

"You going into politics? I always figured you would go to some big-deal ivy league school. You seemed like the type," said Mike. "Traveling home for Thanksgiving?"

"You bet," said Trevor. "Long weekend."

"Yeah, lot's of vehicles on the road tonight. Can I see your license now?"

"Huh? Oh, sure--here it is. Standard procedure, right?" said Trevor, grinning. 

"Yeah, standard procedure, " said Mike. "By the way, do you know why I pulled you over?" 

The smile dropped from Trevor's face. Policemen were always asking stupid, officious questions like that when they pulled people over, probably trying to trick them into making a confession. Was that in their training manuals? "Heh-heh," said Trevor. "I'm not sure, was I going too fast? We're having this family get-together tonight, see, and my mom is making dinner and she gets pretty pissed if you're late. You know how it is." 

"Yeah, I remember your Mom. Nice lady," said Mike. "Let's see, ah, seventy-eight point two. That was your vehicle speed. We have these new Z-band radar units that can clock your speed within zero-point-two miles per hour now."

"Oh, no kidding." said Trevor. And who the fuck cares? he thought. 

Putting Trevor's license on his clipboard, Mike looked down and said, "If you don't mind, Trev, I need to call your number in and have them run a check on it. Can you wait here for a minute?" 

Trevor stared in disbelief. "Jeez, you don't have to do that, do you, Mike? I mean, you know who I am!" 

"I'm sorry, Trev. I know who you are, but it's standard procedure. It shouldn't take more than a minute to run a computer check."

Mike sat in his cruiser for at least five minutes. When he finally came back, he walked slowly and had a peculiar expression on his face that did little to allay Mike's consternation. He stopped once again at Trevor's window, glanced up and down the highway and cleared his throat. "Trevor, did you know that there's an warrant out for your arrest in back in Providence?"

"What?!!" Trevor cried. 

"Yeah. They say you failed to appear for a court hearing on a speeding ticket a couple years ago," he explained. 

"You gotta be shitting me!" said Trevor. "That's not true, I paid that ticket! I mailed in a check!"

"Hmm. BMV has you down as a no-show. Anyway, you've got a code five-oh-three next to your name. That means I'm supposed to arrest you and take you to Providence for detention until a magistrate schedules a bond hearing for you. Unfortunately, that could take a while because of the holiday weekend. Could you step out of the car, please?" 

"What?!" Now incredulous and shaking with anger, Trevor forgot about being calm. "Dude, you've gotta be kidding me! Is this a joke? I can't go to Providence for a hearing. My Mom's making dinner and my whole family is waiting for me!" 

"I appreciate your concern, but rules are rules. Please step out of the car and come back to the cruiser, I have some paper work to write up. If you open the door and get out, it will make things easier."

Staring incredulously at his old classmate, Trevor decided that this all had to be an elaborate joke. It couldn't be anything else. To be a good sport he opened his door and got out of the car. When he turned to toss his wallet on the seat, Mike pulled Trevor's arms together and snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" yelled Trevor. 

"I'm putting you under arrest," said Mike. His tone said: It's pretty obvious, isn't it, moron?

"Dammit, you can't arrest me!" shouted Trevor. "I haven't done anything. Okay, maybe I was speeding but you can't arrest me for that! Goddammit, Mike, take these things off my hands! 

Mike didn't bother to answer, but pulled hard on Trevor's shoulder, spinning him around pushing him towards the cruiser. Trevor stumbled in the dark and felt the grip of panic rising in his throat. "Why are you doing this to me?" he whined. "Why are you doing this?"

When they reached the cruiser, Mike opened the rear passenger door and told Trevor to get in. Trevor said, "Wait, listen to me. This is crazy. You know I don't belong in jail. There's got to be something we can do." He tried to think. "Do you want something from me? I have about a hundred bucks in my wallet, I could pay---"

"I hope you aren't offering me a bribe, Trev." 

"NO, no bribe! I just thought I could pay the speeding fine. If it's more than a hundred I have a credit card. Isn't there anything I can do?" 

Mike stood for a moment, gazing at Trevor as several cars with bright headlights whizzed by. When he finally spoke, his words came out like punches to the gut. "You can sit down and shut up, asshole!" 

"What?"

"You heard me, jerk. You were always a whining pussy in school and you still are. I guess Ivy League college can't cure you of that." 

"Mother of Christ, what are you talking about?" 

"You want me to bend the rules for you, Trevor? I guess you don't remember the time you went and told Coach Peters that I drank some beer at a party and got me suspended from the baseball team."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about---"

"No? I was going to be starting pitcher in the division playoffs, you know. I remember what Peters said when he suspended me. 'Rules are rules,' he said."

"I don't think---"

"And who got substituted in my place in that game? Who blew a six-run lead and lost our chance at the division championship? I'm sure you remember that one, don't you, Trev? You probably didn't know it, but a scout from the Red Sox had come to watch me pitch that game. Peters told me after graduation it was the worst mistake of his life. He told me that you were the snitch, too."

Trevor started to object, but decided it wouldn't do any good. Obviously Mike had been stewing about this stuff for a long time and Trevor had no proof that would change his mind. "What in God's name do you want from me, Mike?" he whispered.

"Simple, said Mike. "I'll give you a choice. You can get in the cruiser and go to jail, or you can get down on your knees and blow me."

Looking carefully at Mike's face and eyes, Trevor concluded that he was completely serious. Trevor wasn't gay and the idea of giving Mike, or any man, a blow job made his stomach turn. On the other hand, going to jail would embarrass him, ruin his holiday, cost him tons of money and maybe ruin his chances of getting into a decent law school. Which was worse? He weighed his options and said, "I don't think I can blow you. I don't know how."

Mike looked down with an evil grin. "We'll see about that," he said. 

****

Beside the open door of the cruiser, Trevor obeyed Mike's order and knelt down on the gravel berm. The gravel was murder on his knees and he almost fell over, but Mike had cuffed his hands in front instead of behind his back, so he was able to put his hands out and catch himself from falling. 

Mike stepped up close and stood before him so that Trevor's nose was about even with his big silver belt buckle. "I'm surprised you never sucked dick before, I always thought you were a fag. Well, there's a first time for everything I guess," he said, fumbling with his pants. Moving with slow deliberation, he found the tab of his zipper and pulled it down, opening his fly while leaving his belt buckled trousers at the top. Once his zipper was down, he opened his fly and Trevor saw his white boxer shorts. "Yeah babe," said Mike. "You might like what you see here." Then Mike pulled his penis out, gave it a shake and let it flop out of his pants like a limp hose before Trevor, who was surprised at how big it looked. "Yeah, babe," Mike murmured. He lifted his penis in one hand and wiggled it at Trevor's mouth. "Here you go, dude. Get down there and start sucking it now." 

With great distaste and hesitation, Trevor leaned forward and opened his mouth to accept the end of Mike's penis. Immediately his nostrils were filled with a sour odor of crotch and his tongue curled around the salty, warm flesh. He started to gag and pulled his head away, and Mike laughed. "What's the matter, dude, you don't like the taste of dick? Suck it."

Holding his breath, Trevor once again took Mike's penis in his mouth and this time held it between his lips, feeling the end with his tongue. He could feel the round circumcised head with its little vertical slit, and the silky skin around the shaft. Soon the spongy shaft started getting thicker and stiffer as Mike became aroused. It became long and hard, and soon transformed into an enormous erection straining and pulsing between Trevor's quivering lips. Mike began pushing it deeper into Trevor's mouth and Trevor again started to gag. "Fuck you," he sputtered angrily, pulling off and looking up at Mike. "Would you take it easy?"

"sorry, it just feels so good. Suck it some more, dude," said Mike. His cock was standing straight out from his pants now, bobbing and glistening in the evening air. "I want you to blow me good." 

Putting aside his indignity and anger, Trevor began servicing Mike, taking his erection into his mouth and running his lips up and down the pole. Mike groaned with evident pleasure and assisted in the effort by thrusting his crotch into Trevor's face. Trevor had never felt such a violation before and frequently felt himself wanting to gag and throw up, but somehow succeeded in suppressing those reflexes and accepting Mikes thrusting member without serious interruption or injury. Occasionally he had to pull off to remove a pubic hair from the back of his tongue, which was awkward with his hands cuffed, but otherwise he seemed to get the hang of it all right. The thought occurred to him that he might be able to reach the pistol in Mike's holster and put a stop to this, but the gun was well secured with snaps and buckles, and Trevor realized that he wouldn't know how to use the safety catch anyway. 

After five minutes or so, Mike started grunting and pumping his hips faster and Trevor sensed that he was building to his climax. Shortly thereafer, Mike pushed Trevor back against the cruiser until his head was immobilized against the fender and began to fuck Trevor's mouth, using fast, short strokes. Mike's zipper scraped painfully against Trevor's lips and Trevor thought he might faint from lack of air as Mike fucked his mouth, saying, "Blow me, fag! Suck my wang!" Finally, Mike let out a deep groan and Trevor's mouth became the receiving vessel for a load of thick, hot cum from Mike's cock. He gagged, and got another, and then another, until Mike was finished unloading his semen and Trevor's mouth felt like it was filled with sticky, unsavory glue. He pulled away and tried to spit, but choked instead and let the jism dribble onto the ground. 

"Yeah, babe," said Mike, wiping himself. "Yeah, that was a damn good blow job! Your mouth is almost as good as a pussy." 

Trevor didn't say anything. He was too exhausted and embarrassed. 

Later, after Mike unlocked the handcuffs, he handed Trevor his license and told him he'd better watch the speed limit. 

"I just want to know one thing. Is there really a warrant out for my arrest?" asked Trevor. 

"Naw. I just made that up, dude," said Mike. "I'm really glad I stopped you, though. Gave me a chance to get even with you for snitching on me to Coach Peters back in high school. You blew my chances with the Red Sox, and now you got to blow me! Maybe we'll get together again sometime, huh?" And with that, he let out a loud laugh and said, "Have a nice Thanksgiving, dude!"

The Traffic Stop



Marcia took her favorite route home that night. The one along the secluded back road where she could press her Eclipse's accelerator pedal to the floor, and just let it go. Marcia loved the feeling of the air rushing by, as she drove along the deserted two-lane with her windows down and her long, raven hair flowing around her. 

She hit that long stretch of straight roadway and eased her car just past 90 or so. God, she loved the feeling of speed. She felt that little tingle at her sex, and the small brown nipples punctuating her round, 34C breasts hardened. Her car stereo pounded out a beat that thumped at her chest, caressing her body.

She had dressed provocatively for the evening, not only for the cocktails at her favorite nightspot, but for this drive as well. As she tooled along the road, the thin material of the tight black mini dress clung to her. Her spiked heels and the fact that she wore no stockings, no bra and only a filmy, white thong invigorated her this night. It was just past midnight when she left the bar, where she had felt all those eyes on her smooth, tanned legs. Her stilettos had accentuated her legs. 

She had felt so naughty, when that older guy, perhaps married and probably closing in on fifty, had ogled her. He had not been able to take his eyes off of Marcia, she remembered. Even though she sat amongst her girlfriends, each who were attractive in their own rights, the gentleman at the bar, well dressed and obviously well to do, had been smiling at Marcia, winking at Marcia, not the others. Marcia giggled a little, as she drove. The look on the older man's face when she had casually crossed her long, lithe legs just so, and in doing so flashed a little of the conspicuously bright material of her thong. The lighting in the bar, Marcia was certain, had made the material utterly glow.

The thought caused Marcia's hand to stray from the gearshift to her inner thigh, then upwards. The soft, warm flesh beckoned her fingers closer to her sex. It was so soft, yet so firm there. Just as the long, sculpted nail of her fingertip touched the soft wetness of her folds covered only by the thin material of her thong, red and blue flashing lights appeared in her rearview.

"Oh shit," Marcia cried, her voice still husky from the sexiness of her thoughts and the ache of her need. "What is a cop doing all the way out here?" As she said the last under her breath, she realized, even as she slowed her speeding red sports car to the side of the road, her middle finger was still idly stroking her folds through the cloth of her underwear. Only the fact that she needed to downshift to keep from stalling her little car caused her to remove her hand from herself.

As the police car came to a stop behind her, a spotlight was flashed into her passenger compartment. The effect of it blinded her, as she fumbled in her purse for her license, her registration and just for good measure, a breath mint. 

Marcia's heart was beating wildly, as the cop approached. She could not see him, but she could hear the faint crackle of his radio coming slowly closer. Soon, she was able to hear his footfalls in the gravel at the shoulder of the road. 

The next moment, a strong beam from the cop's flashlight removed the last of her ability to see. She could only hear his voice. It was a deep, smooth voice. The blinding light coupled with the slow, measured tone made the voice seem disembodied. 

"Evening, Sergeant Sample, Haven County Sheriff's Office. The reason you have been stopped is that you were traveling 93 miles per hour in a 65 mile per hour zone. Is there a reason you were driving so fast?" the ethereal voice asked. Marcia noticed, as he spoke, the circle of light at the end of the beam moved about the tight confines of passenger compartment of her Eclipse. She noticed, also, that when the survey of her car interior had ended, the bright circle had surveyed her. The beam had flashed down at her shoes, and had slowly been drawn up, pausing, she noted, at the flesh of her thighs. The position of her seat and the act which she had been starting, as she was stopped, had caused the hem of her mini dress, which had barely covered her to begin with, to ride up just below the crotch of her panties, which were more than a little soaked from her wicked thoughts and her digital strokes.

Marcia could almost feel the beam, as it ascended up her athletic body. Again, she noticed a pause, perhaps only a fleeting moment but a distinct pause nonetheless, at the plunging neckline of the dress. The fact that she was being mentally undressed by some county mountie who was likely to give her a costly ticket both incensed and, strangely aroused her. It even scared her a bit, truth be told. Her she was, alone on a deserted two lane county road, with an armed man who was obviously appraising her body for only God knew what.

"Miss, are you okay?" the tone remained the same. She could hear the cop's boots shift in the gravel beside and behind her. The sound shook her from her musings.

"Um, oh yes, uh s-sir. I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous." It was not a lie. She had been driving almost thirty miles over the speed limit. Also, this was not going to be her first traffic ticket by no means. In fact, a ticket like this might put her over her points. What the hell was she going to do if she could not drive for 60 days?

Mutely, Marcia handed her license and registration over to Sgt. Sample. She noticed that the hand taking her paperwork was covered in black leather. A shiver went up and down her spine. Nervously, her soft, pink tongue darted out and wet her pouty, red lips. Just at that moment, she felt an acute sense of horror, as she remembered the remnants of the joint she had smoked on this very roadway two night before was sitting at the edge of her partially open ashtray. Suddenly, her delicate hands began shaking. Marcia brought them to the steering wheel to stop the shaking. 

"Is this your current address, Miss?" the cop asked. Marcia leaned forward towards her steering wheel, pretending to only be turning towards the cop to see better, but in reality, she was hiding her half-open ashtray, and at least, she hoped she was, anyway. She replied that indeed, her address had not changed 

With that, the deputy told her to remain in her car. He returned to his own, out of sight, and Marcia breathed a brief sigh of relief. Now, she was hoping it would only be the ticket. She could not bear to think what her parents and her boss at her new job would think if she was arrested for drug possession. She feared she would likely be fired. Mr. Hannity did not seem the type who approved of such behavior in the least.

It seemed like hours, but was probably less than five minutes when the deputy returned to her window. Marcia again turned awkwardly sideways to block the cop's view of her ashtray and craned her neck to look up at him. For the first time, she realized the size of him. He was huge, she thought. Probably over six-four, she guessed. She could see nothing else, except that his arms were thick and muscled, his shoulders wide. In an instant, she felt so small. She was only five-two, and that was only if she cheated a bit. 

"Miss, would step from the car, please?" the cop asked, though it was nothing short of a demand, Marcia knew. Her bottom lip quivered, as she fumbled for the door handle. She was a little startled when the door opened, seemingly of its own accord. Her faculties slowly gathering, she realized the big cop had opened her door for her. 

Stepping from her car, she felt the bottom of her dress creep up, surely exposing her panty-covered, shaved mound to the deputy. He stepped back so that Marcia could exit the Eclipse. He ordered her to walk to the back of her car, and she complied in a daze. Marcia had already begun to decide what she would say to her parents. Mentally, she also began to compose her resignation letter at the company. She could only hope that this arrest would not follow her the rest of her life. She was only twenty-two, and her future, which had been so bright, was dimming by the second.

The deputy had slipped his flashlight into its carrier. The sound of metal on metal made a distinctive "shling," as it slipped downward in the ring. Finally, Marcia got a glimpse of the man who had her future in his gloved hands. He was indeed massive. He was wide at the shoulders and small at the waist. From the size and tone of his arms, it was obvious he had spent a lot of time at the gym. Marcia, in spite of her situation, could not take her eyes from his arms and thick chest upon which a bright silver, star shaped badge glinted in the glow from the squad car's spotlight.

"So, tell me about the roach in your ashtray," The big deputy said. There was no anger in his voice. There was no accusatory tone. In fact, it was almost a monotone. It was as if he had asked this question a thousand times, and perhaps, Marcia reasoned, he had. 

The question itself made Marcia's legs turn to jelly under her. She felt herself become dizzy. Afraid she was going to fall, she reached behind her for support, but was she was just out of reach of the back of her Eclipse. As she was slipping backward, the loose gravel giving way under her four-inch heels, she could only wonder how this night could get any worse, any faster.

Just as Marcia became convinced she was going to end up squarely on her round, shapely ass, A large, gloved hand gripped her left arm, steadying her. The deputy easily took command of Marcia's 106-pound frame and held her until she regained her balance.

"Hey, hey there," Sgt. Sample said, almost laughing, as he steadied Marcia. "This is nothing to bust your back end for, Miss." His grip loosened around her upper arm, as Marcia gathered her composure. She felt her eyes welling with tears. Please, God, do not let me cry in front of this cop, she prayed silently.

"Listen, Miss," the deputy began, pausing to look down at Marcia's license, "Granger. I'm not going to bust you for dope, if all you have is a roach. I have way better things to do than spend time on an arrest report for two tokes."

Marcia dabbed at her eyes with the backs of her knuckles, as her prospects were beginning to look up. She knew the roach was all she had. She had gotten the joint from Gayle, her best friend. Marcia never had more than that on her, ever. "Officer, I swear, that's all there is. I don't even smoke much, just once in a blue moon."

Laughing, as he shook his head. The deputy moved a little, and Marcia, for the first time, could make out his face. He was very nice looking, perhaps about forty or so, but very well conditioned for his age. He had tightly cropped dark hair with a hint of gray at his temples. Had it not been for that, he might have passed for thirty, Marcia guessed. 

"Bad time for a blue moon, huh," he smirked. Normally, the tone of his voice might have put her off, but he was so good-natured about it, that Marcia could not help but smile.

"I suppose so," Marcia replied looking away. As her eyes moved downward, Marcia could not help but spy a sizable bulge at the deputy's crotch. Even in his dark green uniform, it was evident. The bulge pressed at his trousers, at the top of his left thigh. Marcia felt a slight tremor, as she saw it poised there. Her mind flashed to it throbbing there. She felt the need to reach out and touch it---grip it---free it. Shocked at her thoughts, Marcia brought her eyes to the pavement at her feet, yet she could not help but steal one more glance. 

"I tell you what, Miss Granger. You don't look to me like a doper. You do look like a career speeder, but so was I at your age," Sample began. His tone was fatherly, scolding but not exceedingly so. His voice was caressed Marcia's senses, as he spoke. His tone was caring, she thought. Her blue eyes looked up into his. His were gray, she saw. They drew her into him. She felt herself stepping forward to be closer to him. A deep breath soaked in the scent of his masculine cologne. Her tongue darted out once more and slipped wetly over hip lips.

Sgt. Sample paused, obviously noticing Marcia move closer. There was a soft sigh from him, about which Marcia found herself trying to decide the meaning. Then he continued, "I checked your driving history, and you can't afford another ticket. To be honest, I was on my way home, but I just can't let someone fly down the road at close to a hundred without stopping to find out what their hurry is."

Marcia stepped silently closer, mesmerized by his voice, his body and that thick thing between his legs that seemed to grow by the moment within the confines of his trousers. She was so close to him now---so close to it. 

She could not believe what she was doing. Marcia Granger had had a grand total three lovers. Her high school sweetheart, Greg, an anonymous encounter with a college guy two days after Greg broke her heart and, of course, Gayle. Now, she was coming onto a cop in the middle of nowhere. 

As she wondered what her deep, dark urges might cause her to do, Marcia heard the deep, smooth voice trail off. In the silence, there was only the gentle evening breeze that could be heard above their breathing and Marcia's own pounding heart. 

"Uh, that would be assault under most circumstances, Marcia." The sound of her first name coming from the deputy's full lips brought Marcia back to her senses, Once there, Marcia was stunned to find that her small hand was pressed firmly to Sgt. Sample's thick bulge. As he spoke, her hand had softly caressed it. And yes, it throbbed hard between her fingers and thumb. As she gripped it, it lurched in her hand.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," Marcia said, flabbergasted at her own act. She started to withdraw her hand, but his immense gloved hand covered hers, holding it hard to his throbbing cock separated from her diminutive hand by only a bit of cloth. 

Marcia looked up into the deputy's steel gray eyes. They locked with hers, as if to bore into her. She could feel him in her soul. Her hand alternately gripped the bulge and released. Marcia started to say something. Her soft lips parted, yet she had no words. Leaning forward, Sample's lips pressed to hers, his eyes still holding her gaze. Only when she felt his tongue forcefully push past her lips did her eyes close.

The kiss they shared in that moment, alone on that deserted county road on a late summer night, was exhilarating. His hand moved from hers, and he pulled Marcia to him. His powerful arms seemed on the verge of crushing her. In her heart, she knew that this man could take what he wanted, regardless of whether Marcia wished it. Her small hand now pawed at his member, sliding up and down its length. 

Marcia's tongue mingled with Sample's. His lips were surprisingly soft against hers and extraordinarily inviting. Her free hand slipped down between then and joined with the other. They now worked in concert at the lawman's zipper. His duty belt made access problematic, but not so much so that retrieving her prize was impossible. In no time, her small hand slipped within his open fly, her fingers now played at the fly of his boxers. 

Finally, their passionate kisses approaching desperation, Her fingers slipped around the shaft of his meaty cock. Marcia let a moan escape into his mouth, as she felt the girth of it. Even though Sample's cock was easily nine inches in length, she knew if she was too describe it, she would say that it was thicker than it was long. Neither of the men, actually mere boys if truth be told, she had welcomed within her had even approached the size of this massive thing that pulsed in her hands as if enraged. Marcia's fingers slipped over the thick, purple head that was the size of a small fist. She was greeted with the slickness of the cop's precum. 

Marcia broke the kiss and looked down between them, as she coaxed Sample's cock from his uniform trousers. She let out an audible sigh, as her gaze came upon it that very first time. "Oh God," was all she could manage to say. 

Sample whispered to her. "Over here," he said. His hands on her hips, he guided her over to a grassy area beside the road. Though the lights of the patrol car were only a scant few feet away, the spot where they settled was bathed in darkness. Only slivers of light danced over them. 

Forcefully, yet with a gentleness belying his size, Sample pressed Marcia to her knees. There, looking down into her eyes once more, Sample whispered, "You know what to do, don't you, Marcia?" He smiled down to her, as he literally towered above her. 

Marcia's eyes remained transfixed in his stare, as her lips parted and slipped over the head of his cock. Her dainty tongue flicked underneath the notch of the magnificent mushroom head and then over, lapping up another healthy dollop of precum which seemed to now flow from the opening. Both of her hands gripped the enormous shaft, fingers not coming close to linking with thumbs. 

With both hands gripping from the base of the thing, Marcia found that there was still much of his cock left exposed. Marcia's lips, spread to their utmost, closed the distance, until her lips touched the side of her left hand. As her tongue slithered over the underside of his engorged meat, she heard a deep moan elicit from Sample. His large hands gripped her head, guiding her back and forth upon his cock. 

Removing her left hand, unsure that she just how far she was capable of descending. Uncertain of exactly how much she could devour of this seemingly unending length of thick, meaty cock, Marcia forced her lips down further. Relaxing her throat muscles, she slipped farther and farther down his throbbing cock. It seemed to actually get thicker, as her lips approached the base. Her jaw felt as though it might snap, and her lips were stretched to their limit, but she was able to claim nearly all the angry thing in her eager mouth. The trade off, however, was that the colossal head sealed at her windpipe, causing her to gag and gurgle, each time she stroked her lips downward.  

This seemed to turn the deputy on, as her let out a low growl each time his cockhead pushed to the back of her throat. Sample's grip tightened in her hair. His powerful hips started to press back towards her mouth. Soon, he was holding her in place, as he fucked her mouth. It was all Marcia could do to remain conscious, as his cockflesh buffeted her throat. Marcia gripped Sample's thick thighs, as he pummeled the back of her throat. Drool dripped onto her chin, flowing down her neck and into the valley between her breasts. It struck her, as she felt his orgasm draw near, that she did not even know the law officer's first name. She would taste his seed well before the pleasantries of his introduction. The thought immersed her in a wicked desire, and as Sample exploded in a geyser of cum down the back of her throat, Marcia felt a fluttering orgasm of her own. Small, barely there, but there all the same. 

He let out a grunt as he filled her mouth and throat with an assault of cum. He held her down on his cock until Marcia was certain she would pass out. Cum bubbled out of her mouth, streaming between lips and cock. The stick, salty stuff followed the path of her saliva.

Finally, his tremors ebbed and he slowly released her. Marcia gulped the air heartily, as she coughed her way from semi-consciousness. Laughing softly, in spite of her predicament, she brought her fingertips to her chin. With both hands, she pushed stray cum into her mouth, as she peered up at the man who had just filled her gullet with seed.

Sample smiled down at her and lifted her to her feet. Without pause, he pressed his lips to Marcia's. In their kiss, his seed was shared between them. As he kissed her, one large hand slipped between her legs and played at the drenched crotch of her panties. 




The Traffic Stop



When Sample broke the kiss, he whispered, "Your turn, honey." He guided her to the soft grass, and with one firm tug, ripped the crotch of her thong away. Then quickly buried his face into her quivering pussy. His tongue curling and flicking within the folds, as her legs wrapped about his head and shoulders, her spiked heels digging into his back through his shirt. He growled at her need and sealed his lips around the hard nub of her clit. Deftly, his tongue pushed at her hood, as he sucked her between his lips, now forming a tiny O. 

"Oh, yessssss," Marcia cooed, writhing in the grass, not caring that her thong was in tatters or that her favorite outfit was probably being ruined beneath her squirming body. Her hands clung to his head, as his had to hers. As he had done with her, Marcia fucked sample's mouth without regard to anything but her own, feral need. 

Marcia squealed as his tongue slathered about her sex. Her hips rose and feel to his ministrations at her cunt. As she felt his tongue feather in and out of her dripping fuckhole, Marcia felt her second orgasm. Unlike the first, there was nothing minor about this. This was a shuddering, bell-ringing orgasm. 

Gayle liked to call them five alarm fires, perhaps because Gayle had a thing for firemen. The thought almost made Marcia break out in laughter, as her climax swept over her. Her hard nipples, still covered became sensitive to the fabric concealing them. She arched her back, trying to rub the nipples against the material with a little more force.

As if reading her mind, Sample's hands went from supporting Marcia's ass to cupping her firm tits. His palms provided all the pressure Marcia needed, as his tongue slipped expertly in and out of her folds. Sample moaned, as she pushed her breasts into his hands. The moan vibrated Marcia's folds and seeped within her. The sensation sent her into yet another batch of tremors. Her eyes opened wide, and she screamed into the darkness.

Sample, leaving his hands on her breasts, kissed his way gingerly to Marcia's shaved mound. He helped Marcia strip her dress over her shoulders, and then began slowly kissing his way up her petite body. Marcia let out a gasp, as she felt him slather his long tongue over the under swell of each breast. Only Gayle had ever done that for Marcia before, and not nearly as forcefully as Sample was doing it beside that road. 

Sample acknowledged Marcia's response by pinching her nipples, as he licked and nipped the undersides of her tits. Marcia let her lower thigh contact Sample's cock. She smiled brightly when she found the huge thing had returned to life. She longed to have it in her, filling her.

"Fuck me NOW," she demanded. When he did not respond by immediately pushing it inside her, she added, "Oh, please God, fuck me now baby. I need to feel you inside me, lover." 

He laughed. Marcia squirmed under him. Smiling, he brought himself up, so that his cock was at her open cunt. Looking down into her eyes, he growled, "Do you want my dick, Marcia?"

Marcia's head whipped, and she grabbed his shoulders tightly, as he supported himself on his hands above her. Her legs wrapped about him as best she could, since his duty gear was still about his hips. As her ankles crossed behind him, he impaled her with his massive cock.

A swath of pain and pleasure enveloped her at the moment he drove the humongous prick all the way to the hilt. It was if her cunt and reclaimed virginity. Nothing had prepared her for his length, but it was his girth, which caused her to scream, as his hips drove hard into her. The walls of her cunt stretched around it but not without great protest. Though the pain was intense, the pleasure was well beyond any she had experienced with less endowed men and slender vibrators. It was as if a fist had been driven deep inside her.

His hips drove hard up and down, as his cock pummeled the depths of her honeyed cunt. The combination of pleasure and pain transformed from shocking to delicious. Soon, she was matching Sample's gloriously vicious thrusts with upward thrusts of her cock-crazed cunt. He was grunting loudly with each punch of his cock at her cervix. Marcia could feel him hit her there with each back of his hips. 

Her senses were poised, perfect. She could hear the creaking of his belt and feel the roughness of the buckle, as it bit into her flesh. She found the added pain only intensified her pleasure. She slipped her arms about him and pulled herself up to him and was instantly amazed that he was able to keep his arms extended, holding them up with her added weight. The thought of his strength, his power, sent her shuddering into three quick, enraptured orgasms. As she came, his cock still drilling deeply inside of her, her walls could feel each vein along his shaft. Her juices were streaming in rivulets around his cock and down the crack of her ass, as his balls wetly slapped her cheeks. 

It was not long before he tensed above her, upon Marcia lowering herself back to the ground. Incredibly, when she felt his jets of cum explode within her, it seemed to Marcia that he had cum even harder than before. He said something she could not quite make out, as he came. She liked to think that he had fallen to speaking in tongues.

Marcia relaxed beneath him, as his streaming cum slowed to a trickle. Regaining his composure, he leaned down to touch his lips softly to hers. The unbridled lust was now gone for the moment. Dormant, until called upon again, Marcia knew that it would indeed return. While she might have been certain that this would be a one-time thing, something this deputy might share with his buddies over coffee, she could see in his eyes that he was as enamored with her, as she with him.

"I cannot believe what we have just done," he sighed as he reluctantly pulled from her. Marcia could see that he had returned to his senses and realized that he had just spent a little over an hour fucking a stranger on the side of a roadway. Amused, he added, "We were so lucky—correction, make that I was so lucky no one happened along."

Sitting up, reaching for her dress, Marcia shook her head and giggled, but said nothing. Her dress was likely ruined, there was cum on her neck and chest and chin, not to mention streaming out of her well fucked cunt. The walls of her pussy were already becoming sore, and Sample had just pulled out. She could only shudder to think how sore she would be in the morning when she showered for work. The thought brought a smile to her lips.

Seeing her smile, as he zipped himself up, Sample kissed her. Marcia opened her lips to him and they shared a deep, soulful kiss. It was a kiss that told Marcia that indeed this would not be their only encounter. In fact, she was now certain, as Sample cradled her in his arms, that there would be many.

Once she was halfway back together, Sample scribbled his home number on the back of his business card. "So you don't have to worry if I will call," he offered, as he slipped the card into her hand. Closing the car door behind her, he added, "I work Monday through Thursday four to Midnight. I want to see you again---soon."

He kissed her softly through the open window and returned to his car. She looked at the card and saw that his first name was David. Looking in her rear view, as she drove away, she saw his lights turn off. He made U-turn and headed away. "Yes, Dave, honey," she said to herself, "I definitely will be calling, and very soon."



The Traffic Stop



© Copyright, Emanon_Pen, 2008. All Rights Reserved.

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*

Old Route 17 between Livingston Manor and Roscoe, New York runs along Catskill Park which is a New York State protected forestry area that is open to visitors all year round. It is a two lane roadway that was initially created by the farmers who travelled to buy seed and sell their crops at the farm markets in either town. Over the years it was upgraded from dirt to gravel to asphalt, but never widened or expanded, so it remained a two lane country road. Exactly half way between the two small country towns is a stretch of road the police and locals call 'The Trap'. The bend in the road and the straight away that followed made it a great spot for police vehicles to sit and clock the cars coming out of the curve. During the day drivers had no problem negotiating the curve, but after dark it became much more treacherous. The younger drivers waited for nightfall to test their driving abilities. Entering the curve at a somewhat reduced rate of speed, but still faster than the posted speed limit as they hit the apex of the curve, flooring the accelerator, and exiting onto the straightaway usually somewhere around sixty to one hundred miles an hour. The posted speed limit entering the curve is thirty-five miles an hour and upon exiting it rises to forty-five miles an hour. Based upon New York Vehicular Law, a driver clocked at seventy miles an hour receiving a speeding ticket is faced a fine of one hundred and fifty dollars and four points on his or her license. Being ticketed for exceeding one hundred miles an hour was loss of license, fine of one thousand dollars, and a doubling of insurance rates for the owner of the vehicle.

The Livingston Manor and Roscoe city councils decided in the early 1960's to combine their small police departments to save money on police cars, insurance, and employees. The city councils also decided to use 'The Trap' to increase their revenues by increasing the number of speeding tickets issued on a weekly basis. The only negative was the number of fatal accidents caused by drunken teenagers trying to drive as if they were in the Daytona 500. The Livingston Manor -- Roscoe Police Department, lovingly called LMRPD, consists of a Chief-of-Police, one Sergeant, four patrolmen, a secretary, and a dispatcher. When they needed or required help the New York State Troopers were not far from their patrol area as they covered the new Route 17 which basically replaced Old Route 17 as the main thoroughfare through the area.

Patrolman Mark Johnston preferred to work the four to midnight shifts, but this week due to the department's inability to get a part time patrolman to cover a patrolman's vacation time, he was working the hated midnight to eight graveyard shift. Being the youngest and the only single man in the department, he knew he had no excuse that would pass muster with his superiors. Working midnights meant he could spend some time sitting by 'The Trap' to see if he could increase his quota of issued speeding tickets. Mark knew the best time to sit at 'The Trap' was between midnight and 5:00AM which is closing time for the local taverns. As much as he hated the assholes that drove drunk, they were still game for his pulling them over, giving them multiple citations, and increasing the money in both towns cash-on-hand bank account.

The earlier hours of his shift was broken up by two domestic disputes which didn't take him all that long to settle down. The first couple was known to him and all he had to do was take the drunken husband by the throat and threaten him that if he didn't calm down he'd have Mark's truncheon shoved up his ass. That usually was enough for the drunk to begin crying and stop harassing his also very drunk wife. The second call involved a younger newlywed couple who were arguing over who had to take the garbage down the lane to put it out for the sanitation truck the next morning. Mike was absolutely taken with the young wife, but couldn't believe the two were arguing about who was going to take the two garbage cans down the lane. He settled the argument by making each of them take a can together to the end of the lane that lead to their cottage. Thankfully each of them listened to him and did not make a fuss over his rather simple solution to their idiotic dispute.

At precisely 2:00AM, Mark parked his Ford Crown Victoria in the little cove that hid the car from the on-coming traffic as it exited 'The Turn', but allowed the rear window mounted radar detector enough room to track the vehicles exiting the curve. The radar gun took a few moments to setup and calibrate. Now all he had to do was sit and wait for the first jerk to come out of the curve exceeding the speed limit. To keep himself awake, he idly scratched his balls and read the newest edition of Penthouse Letters. Mark Johnson, at the tender age of 23, was a total sexual pervert. His parents, brothers, and sister knew nothing of his constant need for sexual satisfaction. Luckily for him, he is a tall, good looking, young-adult, who has no problems meeting women, and ending up having his manhood shoved balls deep into their wide open accepting pussies. Sitting alone in his police cruiser did nothing to help him keep his sexual needs under control. He thought about masturbating, but thought better of it because it would be his luck to have one of his bosses walk up just as his cock exploded spurting his usually large amount of spew all over his stomach and chest.

He tried to keep from looking at his watch every three to four minutes so the time wouldn't pass as slow as he thought it was. Just as he looked up from his watch for the umpteenth time, he saw the headlights of a car coming around the curve. Mark kept an eye on the remote led output from the radar gun that was hanging on the outside rear window of his patrol car. As the car rounded the curve, the speed of the oncoming car increased. He watched as the led figures jumped from 50 to 60 to 75 miles an hour. He had his first speeder for the night. Easing the shift into drive, he stepped on the accelerator as he flipped the switches for the roof lights and siren. In a matter of moments he was behind the speeding car using the siren button to make enough noise to get the attention of the driver of the Toyota Camry.

Susan Constance Smith, thirty-five, married, and a mother of three was the driver of the car Patrolman Johnston had just pulled over. The car was stopped and sat partially on the roadway because there was no space on either side of the road to legally park or stop an automobile. Mark took down the license number of the vehicle and keyed it into the laptop computer. The program he was using would do a search on the license plate number and return the owner's name, make and model, and any wants and warrants against the owner or registration. As he waited for a response from the software he could see the driver running her hands over her long auburn hair. The report came back clean, but he did have her for doing seventy-five in a forty-five mile an hour zone.

Stepping out of his vehicle with his right hand resting on the butt of his Glock 19, Mark Johnston approached the driver's side of the Toyota Camry that was sitting idling on the side of the road. As he approached, he saw the driver lower her window and heard her begin to plead with him not to give her a ticket.

"License, registration, and insurance card please" stated Mark. "Do you have any idea as to why I pulled you over Miss?"

Susan Smith didn't even think to have the documents for him prior to his arrival at the driver's side of her car. She fumbled in her pocketbook for her license and wondered out loud where in the world she would find the registration and insurance card. As she sat there bewildered, she realized that she should look in the glove compartment where she found the two documents in the folder that was there for their safekeeping. Susan retrieved them, turned to hand them to the patrolman when she noticed the smile on his face as he peered into her car.

"Here are my license, registration, and insurance card. Officer, please, I don't know why you pulled me over," she said.

Mark looked at the name on the license and responded, "Ms. Smith, I clocked you coming out of the curve on Old Route 17 at seventy-five miles an hour. That is thirty miles over the speed limit. Are you in a rush to get somewhere?"

Susan Smith put her hands over her face and began to cry. Mark had seen this game performed by many a woman trying to get herself out of a ticket. Calming herself down, she said, "I was just coming from a friend's house and I wanted to get home because I told my husband I would be home before midnight."

Mark noticed she was wearing a thin halter top that did not make it to the top of the very short black leather mini-skirt she was wearing. He also noticed she was not wearing any stockings. The halter top did not make any attempt to hide her voluptuous breasts as he could see down between them. He could feel a stirring in his loins as he gazed upon her breasts, naked flat stomach, and thin legs that emanated from the black mini-skirt. Mark stepped away from the driver's side door and spoke, "Please turn off your car and exit the vehicle."

Susan was astounded, "Why??? I didn't do anything wrong!!!"

Mark with an edge to his voice, responded, "Ms. Smith, please turn off the vehicle and exit the car. Now!!!"

Susan saw the patrolman had placed his right hand back on the butt of his gun. It was still encased in the black holster, but she could see that he was not in any mood for shenanigans. She turned the car off, opened the door, and exited the vehicle. As she stood next to her car with the headlights from the patrol car illuminating the two of them, she gasped to herself at the sight of the young, good looking, patrolman standing in front of her. She looked directly into his eyes and without meaning to she swayed in obvious attraction to him.

Mark watched as she stood there waiting for his next command. In his two short years on the job, it never crossed his mind to use his good looks and his under-the-radar sexual perversion during a traffic stop as a means of empowerment. As she swooned, he felt his cock begin to harden behind his uniform pants. "Ms. Smith, please walk to the back of your car and face the trunk."

Susan looked at him wondering why he was asking her to do that. She said, "Please officer, I need to get home. My husband is going to wonder what happened to me." Susan stood at the back of her car waiting for an answer.

Mark could see she was wearing a pair of black leather sandals with heels that had to be six inches in height. Ms. Susan Smith was dressed like the proverbial slut. He stepped up behind her and gently pushed her forward so her hands were resting on the trunk of her car. "I'm going to search the interior of your car. You are to stay exactly as you are. One move and I will handcuff you and place you in the back seat of my cruiser. Do you understand me?" Susan was beginning to shake not from fear of any physical abuse, but from the possibility of the patrolman finding the small amount of marijuana and cocaine that was stashed in the center console of her car. "Yes, sir, but please, please, let me go home. If I was speeding I'm sorry and I'll never do it again. Just give me the ticket and let me be on my way."

Mark could see the fear in Susan's eyes as he returned to begin his search of her car. He was hoping to find her panties in her pocketbook, but instead found what she hoped he wouldn't. In the center console of her vehicle he uncovered a nice sized bag of marijuana and a larger than usual vile that contained at least a gram-and-a-half of brown cocaine. Holding the two illegal substances in his left hand he approached the now crying woman.

"Ms. Smith, you are busted. I found marijuana and cocaine in the center console of your car." He lied, "The quantity you're possessing is a Class A felony in this state. You could do at least ten to fifteen years in a women's maximum security prison. Why in God's name are you carrying illegal drugs when you're speeding home? Give me a good reason not to lock your ass up and throw away the key!!!"

"Oh, God!!!" she cried. "I'm so busted. I'm not coming from a girl friend's house. I'm coming from my lover's where I just spent the night cheating on my husband. Look at the way I'm dressed!!! I wanted to get home and change before my husband could see me. Please, officer, I'll do anything, ANYTHING, just don't arrest me!!!"

Mark put the contraband items on the lid of trunk of Susan's car. He stepped behind her and placed his left hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her forward. Using his right foot he forced her legs apart. While keeping his left hand on her back he lowered the zipper to his uniform pants. As he was thinking about what he was going to do, he realized that she could be standing in front of him filled with the cum of her lover and he was not into sloppy seconds. Susan Smith felt something going on behind her and then she sensed it suddenly coming to a stop.

Susan realized that the patrolman was planning on fucking her but she felt that if she let him she'd never be able to get him to stop using her for his carnal pleasure. If she tried to stop him, she knew he'd simply step back and handcuff her. She'd have to call her husband and tell him she'd been arrested for possession of illegal drugs. She thought that the best resolution to her problem was to see if she could get away with a minimal sexual encounter. A hand job or a blow job should satisfy the patrolman's need to use her in response to her saying she'd do anything to keep from being arrested.

Susan spoke in a whiney voice before Mark could say anything, "Officer, listen to me. Please!!! I told you I'd do anything you want and I mean it, but I don't think you want to put your bare cock into a pussy that is filled with another man's cum. Just let me turn around and give you a great hand job."

Mark laughed and replied, "A fuckin' hand job for a Class A felony!!! You got to be kiddin' me lady. You're correct when you say I'm not into sloppy seconds. So I'm going to step back and you're going to turn around. You're going to get on your knees, fish my cock out of my pants, and suck me liked you've never sucked a cock before. Failure to provide what I need now will only force me to arrest you. And, don't think that a blow job is going to settle your account with me. You, dear slut, were bringing a cunt full of cum back to your husband to either eat or feel around what you consider his useless cock as he fucks you and you tell him about how many times your lover deposited his essence in your whore hole. Don't even fuckin' try to deny it, lady!"

Susan Smith turned around to see Mark standing about a foot-and-a-half away from the rear of her car. She could see the zipper to his blue uniform pants was open. He stood with his legs slightly apart, his right hand on the butt of his gun, and with his other he pointed in front of him. Susan looked into his eyes and could see he wasn't one to trifle with. She stepped forward, knelt down on the hard asphalt surface, and reached into the patrolman's pants with her right hand. She found the opening to his boxer shorts and felt the base of what she thought was going to be a rather large cock. Susan moved her hand deeper in between the officer's legs and found what she was searching for. She put her hand around it and pulled what appeared to be a ten inch cock from between the officer's legs.

"Oh, my. I didn't think you were packing such a wonderfully large male appendage," chortled Susan. Her eyes moved from the cock that was now hanging out of the officer's pants to his and back again. She made a point of obnoxiously licking her lips in anticipation of taking his mammoth cock into her mouth. Then she realized that if another car came around the curve and down the road the driver and/or the passenger would get an eyeful of her sucking the officer's cock. She thought to herself that may not be a bad thing but she felt herself getting quite wet thinking about how nice it would be to have that thick piece of man meat pounding her thirty-five year old pussy.

Mark saw her hesitation and wondered if he was too big for her. "So, lady, never seen a cock that big before?"

Susan looked up at him, her eyes twinkling, chuckled, and said, "You are bigger than my present lover, but I've had bigger cocks. What is bothering me concerns a car coming up on us as I'm kneeling with your manhood sliding in and out of my mouth. I don't know how a driver would react to seeing a rather imposing officer-of-the-law pumping his rampant cock into some poor woman's mouth on the side of this rather narrow roadway. Why don't we go someplace where we can both be comfortable? Then I can fellate you with the confidence that we won't get caught and you'll enjoy the mouth of a woman who just loves to give head."

Mark realized that she was right in her assumption. Without putting his cock back into his uniform pants, he moved to the passenger side of his vehicle and opened the door. He pointed and said, "Get in. Try any shenanigans and I'll make sure you'll spend a good long time as a carpet muncher to some overweight convict in a woman's prison." Susan rose from her kneeling position, taking a second to wipe off the gravel that was on her knees, and made her way into the rear seat of the police cruiser. Mark got in next to her. He reached for the back of her head and pushed it down to his flaccid cock. "Suck me," was all he said.

Susan Smith did not complain or comment about how the officer pushed her head down to his exposed but flaccid cock. She reached with her right hand to lift the cock she was about to suck to a position so she could place her ruby red lips around its circumcised head. She could feel the shaft thicken in anticipation of her mouth beginning to caress the perfectly shaped helmet that formed the head of Mark's cock. Being the slut she was, Susan opened her mouth and greedily sucked the officer's cock into her mouth. Not needing to prepare herself for the length and width of Mark's manhood, she slipped his cock to the back of her mouth as she began to stroke the length of the shaft that was not inside her oral cavity. Her only disappointment came when she unconsciously went to massage his balls only to be stopped by the cotton fabric of his uniform pants. She had totally forgotten that his cock was only presented to her through the zipper opening.




The Traffic Stop



Mark felt the woman's lips slid over the sensitive head of his cock and in response he moved ever so slightly forward giving her easier access to his hardening penis. He totally forgot he was on duty as he began to press Susan's head to get her to take more of his ten inches into her mouth and throat. Susan didn't fight the pressure on her head. She just relaxed her throat and allowed Mark's thick cock to slide down her oral pussy. Once he felt his cock slide past her gag point and into her throat, Mark knew he had a winner, so he took control of her head and began to use it to masturbate his cock. Susan didn't resist his taking control of her act of fellatio. She was used to having men force their cocks down her throat. Her only worry was if her nose was going to get an abrasion on it from hitting the metal zipper of his uniform pants.

Mark knew he didn't have the luxury of time so he took Susan by her head and held it as he raised and lowered his hips as if he was fucking her vaginally. He could feel the smooth slick mucous lining of her throat surround his hard cock. He loved that she didn't fight his use of her mouth as a fuck tool. He started to thrust and knew that he was going to blast off in a few more strokes. Susan could feel the shaft of the cock that was sliding into and out of her throat begin to thicken against her tongue. When he slid the head out of her throat and forced it back down she knew from its feel he was going to spew his ejaculate directly into her stomach.

Mark pushed one last time. Susan's face was against his crotch. He exploded. Susan felt his cock pulse four times before he released her head and allowed her to slide his still hard and pulsating cock from deep within her throat. She couldn't believe how much cum he was shooting. As she held his cock in the cavity of her mouth, four more voluminous ropes of cum filled it. She swallowed trying to keep up with his load, but she failed and some of his cum dribbled out of her mouth and onto his pants. When he finished shooting off into Susan's mouth Mark pulled his cock out and retrieved his handkerchief from his left rear pocket, which he used to wipe her saliva and the remaining cum from his cock. Susan sat up and used the back of her hand to wipe the saliva and cum from her chin. To make a point to Mark, she licked the back of her hand clean showing him just what a total slut she really was and will continue to be in the future.

"First, I have to commend you on your cock sucking abilities. Second, you're not off the hook. Third, I'll tell you when you're free of my intention to arrest you. I will make a point of checking up on you as much as possible. The evidence I have will not disappear and I will protect the fact that your fingerprints are all over the baggy and vial. I intend to get that pussy when it is not full of another man's cum. And don't think I'm not going to slide this ten inch monster into your sweet ass. Susan Constance Smith, you are indebted to me for as long as I deem for not arresting you tonight."

Susan looked at him, shivered, and responded, "I can see from your name plate your surname is Johnston. I just let you fuck my mouth with what I consider to be a very nice male appendage. I am willing to let you fuck me anytime you want. My three orifices are yours for the taking. Please, don't hold the amount of illegal drugs you uncovered in my vehicle over my head. I'd gladly give you want you want anytime you want. Just give me enough advance notice."

Mark thought for a moment and replied, "I'm willing to release you from your potential arrest when I've had you enough times that you're just begging me to fuck you. I also want to become the man that fucks you in front of your husband, because I think you just like to fuck around behind his back. If you want to be a slut, then be honest with him and let him see what he isn't giving you. Deal or no deal?"

Susan replied, "If I say no deal?"

Mark smiled and said, "I'll just handcuff you now and take you to jail. It will be my word against yours about what just happened in the backseat of this vehicle."

Susan groaned. She could see that he was not going to release her even if she complied. Her crying when she was pulled over did not work either. She felt her goose was cooked. She never fucked another man in front of her husband. She knew he had an idea that she was fucking other men better endowed than he was, but she never rubbed his face in it. She sighed and agreed to become his slut.

"Now, Susan, exit my vehicle, get into yours, buckle up, and drive home safely. I know where you live and I'll be in touch."

Susan Smith did not look back. She quickly walked to her car, opened the driver side door, entered the vehicle, started it, and drove away thankful that she wasn't handcuffed and on her way to jail. Mark Johnston returned to the front seat of his vehicle and found his little black book where he entered entirely from memory Susan's full name, address, and telephone number which had appeared on his laptop screen when he acquired the automobile's registration data. He started his patrol car, performed a U-turn, and returned to the cove where hopefully another speeder would break up his time on the graveyard shift.

Time passed slowly for Mark. Except for Susan's speeding no one passed his spot exceeding the speed limit that is until a red Corvette Z06 passed him doing well over one hundred at 4:00AM. He took off after the Corvette with lights and sirens. The driver of the Corvette did not stop until Mark pulled alongside of him and gently made a move to push the car off the road. When they came to a stop the Corvette was half on the pavement and half on the gravel while Mark's cruiser was caddy corner across the front to the Corvette blocking the possibility of a forward escape.

Mark jumped out of his vehicle, un-holstered his Glock, pointed it at the driver of the Corvette, and yelled, "Let me see you hands!!! Don't try anything silly!!! Turn off the car, toss the keys out the window, and let me see your hands."

The driver of the Corvette almost pissed his pants when he saw the working end of a Glock 19 pointed at him. His passenger began to wail and cry as she raised her hands against the roof of the Corvette. The driver screamed, "Officer, I have to put the car in reverse before I turn it off or it won't start without someone from Chevrolet coming out here or it being towed to the dealership. Please, holster your gun. I'm going to listen to you. Please!!!"

Mark didn't holster his weapon he screamed back, "Do what you need to do quickly. I want to see the keys fly out the window in less than ten seconds or you're going to be ripped out of that vehicle. Now do it!!!"

The driver fumbled to get the gear shift lever into reverse and when he did he turn off the ignition and tossed the keys out of the driver's side window. Meanwhile, his female passenger continued to have a panic attack as she kept her hands on the interior roof of the Corvette. The driver placed his hands outside the window and reached for the door handle to open the door. He pushed the door open and exited the vehicle. Mark kept the working end of his Glock 19 pointed at the driver. He was not going to give an inch to this crazy bastard who he clocked coming out of the curve at one hundred and six miles an hour.

"Keep your hands where I can see them and move to the back of the vehicle. Then put your hands palms down on the rear deck. Do it now!!!" yelled Mark. He watched as the driver made it to the rear of the Corvette and assumed the position he was told to. Mark then turned his attention to the passenger. He pointed his weapon at the passenger side of the front windshield and yelled, ""Passenger, open the door and get out of the vehicle."

The passenger continued to cry and gasp for breath. She didn't respond to Mark's commands. He had to make a decision before the female did something stupid or collapsed from the panic attack that was consuming her. He holstered his weapon and walked around to the passenger side of the Corvette and opened the door. He looked at the driver and thanked him with his eyes that he was smart enough to unlock both doors before he exited the vehicle. When he looked inside the Corvette he saw the still frightened girl keeping her hands on the interior roof of the car. Mark reached in and gently touched what appeared to be an eighteen to twenty year old female. The girl screamed even louder when she felt Mark's hand on her shoulder. He turned to the driver and asked, "What is her name?"

The driver responded, "Yvette Montrose."

Mark said to the driver, "You move one inch from where you are and I promise you'll have a 9mm between your eyes quicker than you can say Jackie Robinson." Mark didn't wait for a response. He knelt down and quietly spoke to the still crazed passenger. "Yvette. It's ok now. You can put your hands down. Take a deep breath and hold it. Just try to relax. Yvette, look at me. I'm not going to hurt you."

Yvette Montrose, eighteen, a high school senior, never had the occasion or reason to have a gun pointed at her. She heard the officer speaking to her and turned to look at him. She saw him looking back at her not in anger but with what could only be considered a look of concern. Yvette put her hands down and using all of her inner might got herself under control. She turned and began to exit the Corvette. Mark offered her his hand and she took it. Her long, thin fingers felt his strong manly fingers take a grip and gently help her exit the vehicle. Mark stood and was immediately taken with the small extremely thin teenager that stood before him. He didn't release her hand but guided her to the rear passenger side of the Corvette where he told her to stand but not next to the driver.

"So, Michael Schumacher, where were you headed at one hundred plus at 4:00 in the morning?" Mark hadn't even asked for his license, registration, and insurance card. He stepped behind the driver took his right hand and placed it behind his back. Mark handcuffed the driver without any fight from him. "I'm going to search you. Are there any needles, knives, or sharp objects I need to worry about in your pockets?"

Allen Wilson, twenty-one, a RPI college senior home on the weekend to have a prearranged date with his younger sister's best friend, stood shaking in his shoes. He was doing everything possible to keep himself from pissing in his pants. He answered the patrolman, "No, Sir. There is nothing in my pockets except for some change and my wallet in my back pocket."

Mark patted down the frightened man making it plainly obvious that he was not happy with him. He removed thirty-three cents from his right front pocket and his wallet from his right rear pocket. He opened the wallet to retrieve his driver's license. Mark noticed there was a large amount of bills in the paper money compartment and estimated it hat to be close to five hundred dollars. He wondered to himself why a twenty-one year old would have that much cash with him. He looked over at the girl who was now as quiet as a mouse and saw she was just as frightened as the driver. "Where is the registration and insurance card for this vehicle?" asked Mark.

Allen responded, "In the glove compartment, but you're going to need the keys to open it."

Mark looked at him and nodded. He walked to where the keys lay between the vehicles and picked them up. He walked over to the passenger side, leaned in, opened the glove compartment, and retrieved the registration and insurance card. Standing next to the Corvette he knew he had to run the plate number and he couldn't just leave the two of them standing behind the vehicle while he keyed in the information on the driver. And, he didn't want them talking to one another, so he motioned to Yvette to follow him over to his cruiser. He opened the driver's side rear door and told her to get into the rear of his cruiser. She looked at her date and began to cry anew as she complied with his order. Allen Wilson just stood frozen behind his Corvette wishing he wasn't such as asshole when he was behind the wheel of his graduation present.

"Yvette, you're not under arrest. I just want to separate the two of you. Now calm down and let me do what I have to so I can be assured that your friend did not steal that car."

Yvette did as he asked and continued to sniffle and quietly moan in the back seat as Mark keyed in the information from Allen Wilson's license. The car was registered and insured to his father, Reginald Wilson. It didn't take long for the computers to respond with no wants or warrants on the driver or the car. Mark didn't ask for any information from Yvette as he felt she was not responsible for the way her date was driving. It did cross his mind that Allen may have been speeding because he was way past Yvette's curfew. Mark turned and spoke to the girl through the metal screen that separated the front of the vehicle from the back, "So, Yvette, do you have an explanation as to why Allen was going over one hundred miles an hour through one of the most dangerous curves in the area?"

"Please officer, I was just with him on a first date. My best friend is his younger sister. We went to a movie and then we..." Yvette hesitated.

Mark's attention immediately got keener when he heard her hesitate. "What's wrong Yvette? Did he do something inappropriate with or to you?"

"No, No!!! He's been a total gentleman." Yvette took a deep breath and let out what she was holding inside her, "Do you know where the overlook is in the park?" She didn't wait for a response, "We were parked there, talking about all sorts of things, listening to music, and when I made a move to invite him to kiss me. He refused. I thought he didn't like me or something, but he confided in me something that no one in his family knows. He flat out told me he's gay. I was stunned. I just looked at him and we talked about it for hours. It was like he wanted to get a great weight off his shoulders. His sister has been bugging him for months to take me out and well, just look at him. He's a very good looking guy, but he explained to me all this gay sex stuff like I was interested, but I couldn't stop him. He explained to me he prefers the feminine role when he is with another guy. Something he called a bottom. He told me he loves to suck cock, swallow, and take it up his ass. Ugh!!! I wonder what his parents and sister will say when they find out. His dad is a deacon in the church and his mom teaches Sunday school."

Mark sat in the front seat getting an erection. Not because he was interested in her date; he was interested in her, an eighteen year old, angelic, thin, and so sweet looking waif of a girl. He shifted his position so he could move into a more comfortable position as cock grew just looking at her even with her tear streaked face. He thought for a moment more and decided to see if she was going to submit to his advances. He opened the driver's side door, stepped out, and opened the driver's side rear door. He stood next to the open door and simply decided to pull his cock out of his pants. Did he ever cross the line again that night!!! He knew his threats could not get him thrown off the force but as with his earlier sexual advance it would be his word against an eighteen year olds.

"Yvette, is this something you'd be interested in?" Mark said as his cock hung from the front of his uniform pants.

Yvette's eyes widened and she screamed as she placed her right hand over her mouth in amazement. "I've never seen one that big."

"Well, Yvette, you're in a rather difficult situation." Mark blatantly lied to the teenage girl, "You are a passenger in a car that was exceeding one hundred miles an hour. I can arrest you for aiding and abetting. You can go to jail with him and you'll have to call your parents. Now, you don't want to have to call them from the police station, now do you?"

As if she was cued by a director, Yvette began to cry. "Please, officer... I'm in so much trouble because it is so past my curfew. I'll do anything to not have to go to jail."

Mark smiled when he heard the 'I'll do anything!!!' and decided he wanted to have some fun with the two of them. He put his cock back into his pants and told Yvette to exit the vehicle. Taking her by her right arm he guided her to where Allen stood handcuffed behind his Corvette. Mark whispered to Yvette to make sure she followed his lead and if she didn't, she'd end up handcuffed like her date and be carted off to jail. Yvette looked up at the taller man and just nodded her acceptance.

Mark guided Yvette over to the side of the road where Allen was standing. He kept her by his side as he began to speak to Allen. "So, young man, were you in a rush to get somewhere? You were doing over one hundred miles an hour. Do you know you're going to lose your license? You dad's insurance is going to double."

Allen just stood there looking at the ground until he felt Mark's right hand slap him on the side of his head. He didn't cry out from the slap. He looked up at Mark and replied, "No sir. I did not know I could lose my license and that my dad's insurance could double."

"Well, what do you think I should do about you and Yvette? You know she's in this pile of shit as deep as you are."

Allen, as Yvette did in the back seat of the cruiser, opened his eyes in wonderment. "What do you mean she is in trouble? I was driving the car, not her!!!"

"Listen son, you going to tell me my job and New York State Vehicular Law? This young lady is in as much trouble as you. So, are you telling me that you're going to let her take part of the rap for your idiotic show of bravado that could have ended up killing the both of you?" Mark watched the young man to see how he would react. He also knew he was lying his ass off because he wanted to humiliate the kid in front of his sister's best friend.

"No, sir," replied Allen. "I just do want to get her into trouble. I was the one driving. I don't know what I can say or do. Please, just arrest me. I'll take my punishment."

"So, you want to spend the night in lock up? You know there will be some pretty nasty guys there and by the looks of you, you'll be just what they'd like..."

Allen moaned, "Please, not that. Please, I'll do anything. Just don't arrest me."

Mark smiled because he knew he had him. "Yvette tells me you confided in her. I think she needs to see and learn what a good faggot does to keep himself out of jail." He looked at Yvette and said, 'Now it is your turn Yvette. Unzip my pants and take out what you said was the biggest one you've ever seen." Allen had a quizzical look on his face when he heard what Mark just said.

Yvette felt Mark tighten his grip on her arm and she knew he meant business. Using her left hand, she reached for the zipper of Mark's uniform pants and pulled it down. She reached in and found the shaft of his cock and pulled it out so it was hanging just like she saw it when she was sitting in the back of the patrol car. Yvette didn't say anything and just released Mark's cock and stood next to him with tears rolling down her face.

"Stop crying, Yvette. The more you cry the harder it is going to be. So, fuckin' stop your bawling and tell Allen what you want to see."

"I didn't want to see anything!!!" she cried.

"Oh, yes you did. You told me in the patrol car that you wanted to see what a fag looks like with a cock in his mouth. Don't lie, because you'll only end up in jail." Mark Johnston was setting himself up and if either of them realized he was lying his ass off he'd be in a world of hurt. Going to prison as an accused sex offender and a cop to boot, would only spell a world of hurt on him. "Tell him now, Yvette!!!"

Yvette looked at Allen and you could see she was trying to hold back from doing what Mark was asking her. She felt him tighten his grip on her arm again and that was enough for her to say, "Allen, you confided in me. You told me you're gay, a fag, and a guy who likes to have sex like a little girl. I was worried about what the officer was going to do to us, you know, taking us to jail. So, be nice enough to show me what fags do considering you told me all about gay sex when we were at the overlook. If you're good, I'm sure the officer will send us home with only a speeding ticket. Please Allen, for us."




The Traffic Stop



Allen's eyes teared up and knew the only way he was going to get out of going to jail and getting Yvette off altogether was to sink to his knees and take the officer's cock into his mouth and suck. The idea of doing it in front of his sister's best friend was abhorrent to him, but the more he eyed the monster that was hanging in front of him, the more he wanted it in his mouth. The crazy thing that ran through his mind was hoping the officer would bend him over, because if that monster got as big as he thought it would, he knew it would feel real nice slicing into and out of his ass. He didn't need to look at Yvette again; he just stepped forward and literally fell to his knees in front of Mark.

Mark saw him preparing to try and get his cock into his mouth when he spoke to Yvette, "Time for you to take my cock and hold it up for him, Yvette. Can't you see he's having trouble getting my cock into this mouth with his hands cuffed behind his back? Help your best friends faggot brother."

She knew better than to argue, so she moved slightly and using her right hand she took hold of the largest cock she'd ever seen or touched. Yvette was still a virgin, but she wasn't totally oblivious to what two people could do sexually. To keep her last boyfriend somewhat under control she would give him hand jobs and when that became old hat for him she started giving him blow jobs. Yvette felt the weight of Mark's cock and couldn't resist a comment, "Jesus, what a piece of meat you're packin'!!!" She looked down at Allen who was tearing up but willing to do what was asked of him. She raised the head of Mark's cock and placed it in front of Allen's mouth. He didn't hesitate. He took the head of one of the biggest cocks he'd ever seen into his mouth. He had to open wide to get the corona of the head past his lips and teeth.

As soon has his lips encircled Mark's cock, Yvette let go of the shaft which pissed Mark off. He wanted her to help in any and every way she could while Allen sucked him off. He watched Allen begin to suck his cock and as he hardened in his mouth he told Yvette, "Get your hand around my shaft and behind his head and help him. Stroke my shaft and guide his head as he slides my hardening police truncheon into and out of his mouth. What's the matter Yvette never had your boyfriend take you by the ears and fuck your mouth?"

Yvette moaned when she heard Mark ask her about giving blow jobs. She was beyond saying no to him. Her panties were wet and she was thinking about what it would feel like to have that monster between her legs and inside her virgin pussy. She wanted to save herself for her first night with her future husband, but if Mark wanted her, she was more than willing. She took hold of the shaft again with her right hand and placed her left hand on the back of Allen's head. She began to gently guide his efforts as she watched him begin to take more of Mark's cock into his mouth and down his throat. Yvette was amazed that Allen did not gag or cough as the thick piece of man meat slid deeper into his mouth and down his throat. As the cock went deeper, Yvette realized she could place more pressure on the back of Allen's head and did so.

Mark loved watching Yvette control Allen's cock sucking, but he needed to get off before anyone came tooling down the highway. He could feel his body begin to react to the excellent suck job Allen was performing and the idea that this sweet eighteen year old was helping by stroking his shaft when was available to her hand and controlling the faggot's head. If he had stopped just Allen, Mark thought to himself as he was being sucked off, he wouldn't be receiving his second blow job of the night, but Yvette's presence sealed the deal. He started to sway against the movement of Allen's head and knew he'd better take control. He took Allen by the sides of his head and pulled him into his crotch. Yvette moved away wondering why Mark did that and as she watched she saw him begin to fuck Allen's mouth as if it were a cunt. Allen felt Mark begin to use his mouth as he wished he would and moaned in response to having what appeared and felt like a ten inch cock slamming into and out of his oral cavity.

Yvette noticed that Allen had an erection and that as Mark continued to violently fuck his mouth he ejaculated making a giant wet spot on the front of his khaki pants. She was amazed and laughing out loud said, "I can't believe what I just saw. The faggot shot off in his pants because you're fuckin' his mouth."

It didn't take many more strokes for Mark to reach his point of no return. He really wanted to humiliate the asshole that was on his knees suckin' his cock in front of his sister's best friend. Mark decided at the last moment to pull his cock out of Allen's mouth and spray all his cum all over Allen's face. Allen tried to move but Mark had a hold on his head and it only made his face messier as the ropes of cum were laid from his chin to his forehead and from ear-to-ear. Yvette stood with her hands at her mouth not believing the amount of ejaculate that emanated from Mark's cock. As Mark shot his load, Yvette got wetter.

Mark didn't think about asking Yvette to lick his cock clean, but just put it back in his uniform pants and closed his zipper. Allen remained on his knees his face covered in cum. Yvette couldn't decide whether to cry or just continue to laugh her head off at the sight of Allen covered in cum. Mark checked his watch and knew that he had to get a move on it so he pulled Allen up to a standing position. He turned him so he could remove the handcuffs and as he was doing so said to him, "I'm going to remove the cuffs. Don't make any move to remove my cum from your face. You go to your car and wait for me to return. I am going to write you a ticket for disregarding a posted speed limit. No points, no insurance increase, a cost of one hundred and sixty dollars, and you are going to become the only faggot I let suck my cock on a regular basis. You decide you don't want to do it, I will tell every cop in the state to pull you or anyone in your family over and write you up for everything under the sun." Mark unlocked the cuffs and just as he knew Allen would, he made a move to wipe the cum off of his face. Mark slapped him on the back of the head and Allen understood. He walked to the driver's side of his Corvette and waited.

Mark took Yvette by her arm, but was very gentle with her. He walked her over to his cruiser and whispered to her, "You can go home with him or you can stay with me and when I'm off duty we can go to my place and I can slip what you so nicely called the biggest cock you've ever seen into your virgin cunt. I just know you're intact between those eighteen year old legs."

Yvette swooned at the thought of having Mark take her virginity, but she knew she was in a shit load of trouble all ready. She thought for a moment, and replied, "It would be better if you let me go home with Allen and when my dad fuckin' goes crazy, I could tell him to call you. You could help me with my story and then when everything settles down, we can go out. Not to a movie, but to your place so I can give to you what I was saving for my honeymoon night with my future husband. I'm not a slut, but, all of me is yours for the taking. Deal?"

Mark Johnston stood looking at Yvette wondering where she came up with what appeared to be a safe ending for her and an opening to a relationship with him. He replied, "Ok. I'm going to take a minute and write a ticket for Allen and before I do, he reached into his pocket and handed her his business card. My personal cell phone number is on it. I expect a call from you tomorrow at 1:00PM."

Yvette smiled, looked to see what Allen was doing, moved close to Mark, stood on her toes, and gave him a kiss. Nothing more than a peck on his cheek, but it was enough for him to know that Yvette had just committed to giving her virginity to him. Mark wrote the ticket, took it and Yvette back to where Allen was sitting in his Corvette covered in Mark's ejaculate. Mark handed him the ticket, pointed to Yvette, winked, and walked back to his cruiser. He belted himself in, started the car, and began the drive back to his station house.

As he drove back, he reviewed the night and realized that he could have gotten himself charged with felony sexual assault. Working midnights could get him into a lot of trouble; so, he made a command decision that for the rest of the week he was going to keep his cock in his pants and his pen working hard writing speeding tickets. The only thing that tickled his fancy and made his cock jump was the thought that by this time in two weeks or hopefully sooner he'd be between the legs of a sweet eighteen year old taking her virginity.

Life couldn't get any better. 



The Traffic Stop



Kate was returning to college after the winter break away. It was nice to get home and see her family, but she was also excited about going back and seeing her friends. She loved college, she had made a lot of great friends already, and it was only her sophomore year. She was driving along a two-lane back road, a shortcut a friend recommended to her to cut some time driving back to campus, changing a song on her iPod, and then looking up at the mirror to check her make up, as she was meeting her friends at a bar to celebrate everyone getting back into town. Unfortunately for her, while looking in the mirror she saw something else, red flashing lights.

"Shit," she said to herself, not realizing she was speeding by over 25 miles per hour. "Come on, please be a guy so I can flirt my way out of this," were the next words out of her mouth. It was her sure-fire way of getting out of every ticket, she checked her make up again, and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse.

She watched intently as she saw someone get out of the car. His form looked male, tall and in shape, as he walked toward her car. The cop put his hand on the window and leaned down "Hello miss, do you know how fast you were going?" he asked her.

"Great, he's not only a young guy, but he's cute, this will be easy" she thought to herself "Sorry officer, I know I was going a little too fast, but there is no one else on the road and I am just trying to make it back to Courdry to meet up with some friends before classes start," she said, pushing her chest out some and trying to pout her lips. 

"License and registration please," he asked, holding his hand out. She placed them in his hand, letting her fingers run along his palm as she did.

He walked back to the car, standing outside for a couple of minutes, and then she saw another figure exit out of the car, walking toward the passenger side. "Hmm, that's odd, she thought, maybe he was bragging and the other cop wanted a look," she thought, looking at her rearview and side mirrors, scanning between them.

The same cop emerged at her window again "Can you step out of the car miss?" he asked "My partner and I have a couple of questions for you."

"No problem officer," she said, for the first time feeling like it is somewhat amiss. She stepped out of the car, standing next to it wearing heels and a skirt, an outfit that would fit perfectly at any college bar. 

"Up against the car Miss," the officer directed "hands on the hood, and spread your legs." She complied easily, not wanting this traffic stop to turn into anything worse. He moved behind her, his hands patting down her sides, starting under her arms, and moving down to her hips, his hands lingering on them, and then moving his hands down over her ass, fondling it softly and moving his hands between her legs, up past the hem of her skirt. She was looking at the hood, concentrating on the feeling and the scene, being on the side of the road and fondled by a young, cute cop. 

"Find anything?" a voice said in front of her, looking up she saw the other officer, a blonde woman, couldn't have been much older than the other cop. Despite the cumbersome belt and uniform Kate could tell that she was attractive and had a nice body. 

"Oh, I definitely found something," he said. "Just what I was expecting too. A girl who thinks she can use sex to get out of a ticket."

"Shit!" Kate thought worried that she was going to be arrested, and would have to tell her parents what she did. "Officer, I'm sorry if it came across that way, but that wasn't my intention." She said, the worry growing in her voice.

"Yes it was you little tramp," the female officer retorted, walking around the front of the car and moving behind her. "I guess we'll have to show you what happens to little sluts like you who think sex can solve everything." With that she grabbed Kate and kissed her, Kate, being shocked at this turn of events took a second to realize what was going on. Between being kissed by the female officer and having his hands all over her body she realized how horny she was getting.

"Don't hog her Mary," the other cop said, grabbing Kate by the hair and kissing her himself, pushing his lips roughly against hers, his tongue invading her mouth. Officer Mary had stripped off her belt, leaving it next to Kate's car, and was dropping her pants in the middle of the road and climbing up on top of the hood. 

"Mike, bring over the little slut so we can put her to work," she demanded, her hand reaching down to her pussy, rubbing the lips and her clit. Mike complied, picking Kate up and toting her in front of Mary, and pushing her head onto her waiting cunt. "Lick it good bitch and you may just get out of your ticket yet," she said between moans

Kate dove in face first, having never eaten pussy before, but knowing what she enjoyed, running her tongue between the lips, sucking on each of them, as well as the clit. She found herself getting even more turned on by having a girl's sex in her face, tasting her juices and having them smeared all over her face. She heard another belt drop to the ground, then felt a hand on her hip, and another between her legs "open wide slut" she heard Mike say from behind her. As she opened her legs wider she felt the head of his cock push against her pussy, which was already wet with anticipation of this moment. He thrusted his entire cock inside of her slowly at first making sure she could take all of it, and then quickened his strokes, feeling her tight pussy walls grab onto him.

All three were working toward orgasm as they had a threesome on the hood of Kate's car. Mike's cock was pounding her pussy furiously at this point, pushing Kate's face involuntarily further into Mary's waiting pussy. Mary was rubbing her clit as Kate lapped greedily at her juice and sucked on the pussy lips. "Make me cum slut, make me cum all over your face," Mary screamed as she was approaching orgasm before throwing her head back on the hood of the car, spreading her legs out completely and loudly orgasming, her juices overflowing her cunt and ending up on Kate's lips and tongue.

"My turn now slut" Mike said, grabbing her hair roughly and pulling back, taking long, deep strokes into her cunt, until he finally pushed in as far as he could and shot his load deep into her waiting cunt. He caught his breath still inside of her, leaving her bent over the car until he pulled out of her, and putting his uniform back on.

"You get out of your ticket this time," he said "but don't let us catch you speeding on this road again." And he winked at her.

"Or else what Officer? I'd get a good fucking and a hot pussy in my face?" she responded with a smile.

"Something like that," he said, getting back into the car with Mary and driving off.

Kate sat in the car, still reeking of sex, and reached down to her pussy, which was wet with a mix of her juices and Mike's cum. She put two fingers inside of her, then brought them to her lips, enjoying the taste. Both of her hands meandered down to her wet cunt, and she began to furiously finger her pussy and rub her clit simultaneously, pushing back against her car seat as she thought about the scene that just transpired until she orgasmed herself. She cleaned off her fingers in her mouth and started her car "I'm going to have to remember this shortcut" she thought to herself as she drove off.