0 comments/ 116347 views/ 9 favorites Warning Miss By: Albatross I saw the revolving lights in my rear-view mirror and nearly pissed myself. The only thing holding me back was the instinct not to wreck my new suit. Fifteen minutes earlier I'd had a run-in with a cop. I was having a cigarette outside my wife's favorite social club. The club was kind of a straight-laced, fru-fru joint, and I'd gone outside to blow off some steam. It was a full moon, and for kicks I let out a few howls. An officer Karl Morgan came around, charging me with being 'drunk and disorderly'. A couple of martinis had made me brave, and I gave him a little guff. He wrote a citation, and warned me to watch out. "I don't care how much money you aristocrats got, or if you know the damned mayor or even the president! If I catch you drunk in public on my watch, you're paying the consequences like any other damn citizen." At his use of the term 'aristocrat', I laughed. Although my new wife, Patricia, came from money, I came from getting her father's coffee at board meetings. This social club drew a lot of the money crowd, though, and I gathered that I wasn't the first guy to get busted there. So I could see there was no arguing with this hick, or at least no quick arguing anyway. Patricia's favorite TV show was coming on soon, and I knew if I didn't get her home I'd never hear the end of it. So I swallowed the ticket, and went back into the club to get my wife. When we came out, the officer was gone. We headed back to my and I got behind the wheel. I took a little-used back road to get home. Although I really wasn't that drunk, the gravel road was wreaking havoc with the Mustang's tires, and I swerved from time to time. When I saw the lights flashing in my rear view, I had a fair guess what kind of trouble I was in. I loosened my black tie, tugging at the collar. "Oh perfect. What'll happen, do you think?" Patricia asked. I looked over at her. Aside from her worried expression, she looked unruffled in an expensive silk blouse and evening slacks, a leather hand-bag clasped to her side. She was a real doll, and I didn't mind looking at her when I had the time. Right now I didn't have the time, but my eyes gave her a look-over anyway. As usual, she didn't have her safety belt on. I had a sudden brainstorm. "Well hey, what if you switched seats with me?" I asked. Patricia's eyes went wide under her arching, plucked eyebrows. "Come on. Be serious." She said incredulously, her little mouse voice barely rising over the engine. She drummed her fingernails on her purse. I watched that hand move, those soft fingers working against the leather. No bones about it, when we got married a year ago I knew what I was getting into. Patricia was a well-bred, sheltered, indoor girl. Her body was all woman, but she liked to be taken care of and she was a little timid when it came right down to it. Which was fine by me, except in situations like this. I nearly barked at her. "Switch when we've stopped! Quickly, before he sees." I urged, undoing my belt. I eased the car to a halt, throwing on the parking brake. "But, dear – I couldn't possibly-" She started. I shushed her, pulling her towards the driver's seat. She carefully moved around me, not wanting to dishevel her clothing or makeup. Her fragrant perfume filled my nostrils, and I couldn't resist giving her a quick peck before diving into the back. She waved me away, sliding behind the wheel. In the rear seat was a flannel blanket we sometimes used on picnics. I covered myself with it and ducked down, creaking against the leather upholstery. Lucky for me I had installed dark tinting in the windows a few months earlier. "But what will I say about the swerving?" She asked me. I tried to think. Martinis, even a couple, impair that sort of thing. Maybe she had been doing her makeup and let the wheel go for a moment? Cops probably didn't like that much, but it was better than drunk driving. Then I heard Patricia fiddling with the glove compartment, and I looked up. She pulled a half-empty bottle of mineral water out of the dash box. I gave her a questioning look in the mirror. Patricia unscrewed the top gently, then dumped the bottle out on her shirt. The liquid disappeared into her silk with a hiss of bubbles. Patricia squirmed. "See, I spilled my soda. That's why I swerved." She said. I stared at her chest. The wet fabric clung to her form, accentuating her bosom. The idea was alright. But the thought of some hick cop, ogling my wife, suddenly made me see red. "He's never going to buy it." I said hastily, drawing the blanket farther over my head. "I'm headed to jail for sure." She frowned, scanning the rear view. The cop had stopped his car and was stepping out. Patricia clucked her tongue, looking down at her blouse nervously. Then she did something even more unexpected. Patricia reached up with her well-manicured, aristocratic fingers - and undid the top button on her blouse. My jaw dropped. Her painted fingernails clicked as she undid another button, then a third. Patricia then peeled away the wet silk slightly to reveal her cleavage. Her breasts were full and round, the creamy flesh pale from lack of sun. Though just the top of her bosom was visible, one could clearly see the deep crease between her breasts, disappearing into the darkness of her wet blouse. I gaped at her. Patricia looked at me in the rear view. She arched her eyebrows defensively. "Well, isn't that what girls do?" She asked sincerely. I shrugged, annoyed. Hell, maybe it would help. Patricia seemed a little more relaxed. She tried to settle into the driver's seat, a place wholly foreign to her. Then we both had the same terrible thought. "But dear, I haven't got a license!" Patricia whispered. My mind struggled through the martinis, trying to pull a solution out of the fog. I drew a blank! Just then I saw the gleam of the officer's flashlight as he walked towards the car. I ducked down farther under the blanket. I kept a small crack open to breathe, and to watch. The officer stepped up to the window and tapped with his light. Patricia rolled it down. He spoke, and a knot formed in my stomach. "Evening missus." It was Karl Morgan, the hick, sure as daylight. His voice set me on edge. "Um, it's miss, to be sure. Good evening to you." Patricia said. I groaned inwardly. She was laying it on too thick. I watched Karl's light play across the top of her exposed bosom. "Okay, miss then. Did you know you were weaving back there, miss?" He asked evenly, apparently ignoring her charms. "Actually yes. I just spilled my water, don't you know." Patricia indicated the dark, oval stain down her front. Karl's flashlight played across her chest again. She held up the empty bottle. "Oh, I see. And you swerved on account of that?" He asked. Patricia nodded. She pulled a bit of her hair behind her ear, smiling a silly schoolgirl smile. I was embarrassed to watch. Karl's light lingered on the wet stain, then he brought the light up to her face. "Ahem. I'm going to need to see license and registration, miss." "Oh, sure. Let's see, I'm sure it's tucked away here somewhere..." And then, to my complete astonishment, Patricia sank a nimble, well-bred little hand into the depths of her cleavage. Seeing my wife, searching around in her bra like she was a cocktail waitress digging for her tips, it was too much for me. I almost choked. Her hand slid into the right cup of her bra, pretending to search. In the process she opened a fourth button on her blouse. When she pulled her hand away, Karl was transfixed. So was I. Patricia let out an embarrassed little giggle. "My goodness, I'm so embarrassed. I thought certain I had it there." Patricia said, a little falteringly, but sweetly all the same. Karl's flashlight beam was locked on her chest. Her efforts had exposed another inch or so of cleavage. The pale flesh of her breasts curved down to reveal the upper edge of her bra, the two mounds nestled in green satin cups. As she inhaled, her chest swelled against the damp silk. Karl exhaled, his breath a white puff in the cold night air. "Ahem...ah, that is, I still need to see your license, miss." Karl said, his voice a little tight. Whatever she was doing, it seemed to be working. "You know, I'm afraid I must have misplaced it. Can't you let me off with a warning?" She asked innocently. Patricia attempted to bat her eyes. I shook my head, praying this hick was dumber than he looked. Karl stared at Patricia. Then he flashed his beam towards the passenger side, the glove box, then into the back seat. I was afraid he'd seen movement. He looked around a bit, then turned back to Patricia. "You, ah, mind if I take a look myself, miss?" Karl's voice was softer, the edge rubbed off. Things were bad, though. Patricia faltered for a moment, then regained her composure. "Why, I'm sure...I don't know. I mean, of course. Help yourself." She said, trying to sound nonchalant. She waved a hand towards the glove box, trying to guide his attention away from the back seat. But as it turns out, he wasn't interested in the back anyhow. Karl slowly pulled the black leather glove off his right hand. Then he slid his hand into my wife's blouse. Patricia nearly jumped out of her skin. Karl cupped her breast firmly, grabbing it over the bra. Then his fingers slid along the bra, probing under the satin cup. His hand must have been cold, because Patricia shivered nervously at his touch, her breath stuttering out. She didn't resist, though, and attempted to act casual about it. Karl reached up, real slow, and grabbed the green satin bra strap off her shoulder. The strap dropped to the side of the satin cup, which was having trouble holding in the goods. Karl helped it out a little, hooking his thick fingers over the edge and pulling it down. Only one guy I knew of had seen that breast, and it was a view that always sent me for a spin. I felt a kind of electric sickness to see somebody else getting a peek. But Karl focused his flashlight right on it, and took in a good long look. Now, all of Patricia's skin was young, and had that fresh, new look to it. But her breasts most of all, on account of that area seeing so little sun, or exposure in general. The pale orb was full, and round and tight from the cold. It was crested by her light-brown nipple, stiff in cold night air, and pointing upwards the way a young woman's will. The skin was smooth as silk. Then, right in front of us, whether from the cold or being looked at, it broke out a thousand little goose bumps. Karl couldn't resist. He slid his fingers over it, stroking the flesh. Then he pinched her nipple, hard enough to get a wince and a gasp out of Patricia. Her breast jiggled, and she squirmed, and Karl let go. "Miss, you ain't got no license in here." Karl said. I tensed. "In fact, I think you ain't got no license at all." His voice had lost a lot of the softness, and he sounded all business again. Patricia sucked in a breath, her exposed breast rising with the motion. She became acutely aware of it, and moved to cover up a little. "I suppose there'll be a fine then?" Patricia said, timidly, avoiding eye-contact. Karl shook his head. "Well, by the rules, I might have to fine you, even haul you in." Karl waxed. Patricia's eyes skittered to the mirror, pleading with me. "Or I could just let you off with a warning." Karl said, trying to sound kind. I knew there was something behind it, though. I don't know if Patricia saw it coming or not, but she perked right up. "Oh could you? I'd be ever so appreciative." I noticed she let her blouse fall a little. Karl noticed, too. "I bet you would, miss. That's a steep fine, though, that I'd be letting you get away with. Lotta money. And the jail time, maybe, whew. It's a hard call on my part." Karl pretended to think hard. The expression was comical, but I wasn't laughing. Patricia thought she understood his intentions, though. "Oh I see what you mean, of course. Maybe I can make the decision easier for you." Patricia said sweetly. Karl watched her face, her smile, her eyes. From the back, though, I could see Patricia sliding a hand over to her leather purse, presumably to retrieve some money. Then Karl spoke, and it wasn't his words so much as the tone of voice that caught her a little off guard. "Miss, are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?" Patricia thought a moment, going over his words. Then she smiled, sweet and true as anything. One thing she knew was how to shell out money. She slid her handbag over to her side. "Why, I'll put my money wherever you request, officer." Her voice came out like honey. Karl nodded. Patricia looked down a moment to fish around in her bag. Karl put his flashlight under his armpit. Patricia found her wallet. When she looked up, she gasped, dropping the wallet on the floorboards. I turned to see what she was looking at. It was Karl's dick. While she was fishing in her bag, he had unzipped his black pants and pulled it out. He had an engorged erection, at least 7" in length, thick and angry. His balls hung down too, outside his black police pants, looking swollen and heavy. Patricia just stared at it, like a deer in headlights. Her hand trembled slightly, from cold or fear I wasn't sure. Slowly some understanding of their little interchange of words crawled across her face. Finally she looked into the mirror at me. I didn't know how to look at her, or what to do, or how things would shake out. Patricia bit her lip. She looked back to Karl's erection. Her breathing was quick now, coming out in a series of white puffs. The uncertainty played across her face. Did she know it would go this far? I chewed on the edge of the blanket absently, watching her every expression, trying to think of how I could break this up without going to jail, or worse. Patricia mastered herself, a little anyway. She clasped her hands together for a moment, thinking of what she would say. "It don't bite, miss." Karl said, soft but direct. Patricia laughed nervously. "Of course not." That was all she could think to say. She couldn't look Karl in the eye. Then, I guess, she made up her mind. Her words came out in a nervous staccato. "So, I guess, I'll just..." Patricia trailed off as she raised her delicate hand. That soft little hand, which wasn't used to holding much besides a tennis racket or a cocktail glass, reached out for the throbbing monster staring her in the face. Tiny fingertips touched the broad, fleshy head. Her fingernails danced along it timidly. It tickled Karl, and he shivered, making his dick bounce up and down in front of her. She waited for it to still, then reached for him carefully. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft, grasping it as firmly as she could. Her fingers barely went around. Patricia started to pump it lightly. She looked up at Karl for reassurance. Now, before our marriage, Patricia had never been with a man. I taught her the rudiments of stimulation, but frankly she had never been very skilled at hand-jobs. I watched her stroking him awkwardly, and I feared the worst. Karl seemed to enjoy it for a few moments, though. He stepped forward, leaning into her trembling grip. He reached one thick hand down and cupped her exposed breast. He groped her firmly, kneading the flesh with his cold fingers. With obedience bred from panic, Patricia adjusted her angle in the seat, leaning her breast into his embrace. She started pumping his cock faster, her thin little hand flicking up and down along his veiny, swollen shaft. She seemed to know the sooner she could get this over, the better. Karl gently rocked with her motions. Then, as I feared, he made his next move. Karl's free hand came up, and he slid his fingers into my wife's hair. Patricia had spent $175 getting her hair done that afternoon. It was clean and shiny, woven into an elegant bun with stray curls falling here and there. Karl roughly clenched a handful of her locks. "Oh!" Patricia gasped. Her hand slowed it's stroking, her eyes glancing around in confusion. Karl pulled her head towards his crotch gently. Held loosely in her hand, his cock was dangling in the window now, his balls resting on the door. I wanted to reach over and start the electric window mechanism so bad, but I didn't. Patricia didn't seem to catch on to Karl's play at first, thinking he was just trying to embrace her. She leaned her head against his stomach, and began pumping again. Karl chuckled. He let go of her breast and grabbed his cock away from her. Patricia leaned back a bit to look questioningly into his eyes. Karl nodded to his penis, aiming it at her mouth. He pulled her towards it. Patricia finally understood, a tremor of shock rolling across her features. "Oh my, I-" Karl pulled her towards him, cutting her off. The head pushed against her red lips, seeking entry. She kept them closed, her lipstick smearing across the swollen helmet. Karl was persistent, though. He kept a hand on the back of her head, holding her still. He rubbed the hot, plum-shaped head against her cheek, then dragged it back across her lips. He slid it down her other cheek to her neck, where she tried to grab it. She stroked it a bit, but he pulled it away, back up her cheek. He put it on her mouth again, dragging it this way and that against her closed lips. Patricia finally gave in. She opened her mouth slightly, and her tongue slid out. She managed as best she could, licking him awkwardly, a little frantically, like a girl trying to keep an ice cream cone from melting on her. She was careful not to open too wide. Karl had his agenda, though. He caught her mid-lick, and pulled her forward by her hair. Her lips slipped over the head, and Patricia's eyes widened as she took his length into her mouth. In bed at home, I had given up on having Patricia perform fellatio upon me. She had lousy technique, the poor girl. I always preferred to engage in intercourse, where I could do most of the work. At the moment, however, I half-prayed she could perform adequately. "That's it, miss. Like that." Karl said. He was sliding in and out of Patricia's dainty mouth, his shaft wet with her saliva. Patricia was tense and rigid. She kept raising her hands up as if to take hold of his cock, then lowering them as he took control, changing the speed and depth of his thrusts. She seemed not to be able to do much besides keep her teeth out of the way and not choke as Karl thrust deeper and deeper between her lips. "Grab my balls, miss." Karl hissed. Patricia reached up nervously with both hands and began massaging Karl's nuts. Karl seemed satisfied with that. Keeping hold of her hair to guide her, he took his hand off his cock and went back to groping her. He roughly pulled the bra down over her left breast, exposing her completely. "Suck it, miss." Karl ordered. The softness in his voice was gone. He was using her now. Patricia's cheeks caved in. Wet sucking noises began coming from her mouth. I just couldn't believe my eyes. My wife was really sucking this man! My stomach did flip-flops. Karl's hand did a number on her breasts, squeezing and pulling, pinching and jiggling. Patricia, however, was focused intensely on the penis between her lips. Saliva dripped down her chin as Karl's cock slurped in and out. Once in a while he would tweak a nipple hard, and she'd squeal into his cock. After what seemed like an eternity of this, I heard what I had hoped for. "Oh yes miss...keep going...oh miss...huUNH!" Karl's hips bucked. Patricia involuntarily thrust her hand into his nest of pubic hair, steadying his pelvis as he tried to drive himself into her throat. I wondered, would she swallow him? The thought horrified me. On the other hand, I didn't want him to fly into an unsatisfied rage. Warning Miss Karl grunted, spewing his cum into her mouth. Patricia tried desperately to swallow. She got down a few gulps, then gagged. She pulled his cock away from her mouth, Karl's seed jetting out in white ropes. One spurted on her chin. Patricia blinked, but at least had the presence of mind to keep him going. She pumped him erratically, milking his cock further, squirts of white cum landing on her cleavage. Karl must have not have been getting much action lately, because he really gushed a load onto her. Finally Karl's muscles relaxed. Patricia let go of his drained member. She looked down at her chest. "Oh my. I...I seem to have made a mess of myself..." Patricia stared, dumbfounded, at the rivulets of milky white semen dripping down her bare breasts. The pale honey was actually steaming in the cold air. Absently, she touched her palm to the bottom curve of her right breast, cupping it to prevent the rivulets from continuing onto her silk shirt. She pulled her hand away, cum strands sticking to it like hot cheese dripping off a slice of pizza. Then she regained a little composure and reached for a packet of tissues on the dash. Karl panted a bit, then looked down at Patricia. He watched as she pulled a white tissue carefully out of the packet, and began dabbing at her glistening breasts. "It's getting cold!" Patricia mumbled, blotting the cum, wiping it gently off her goose-bumpy flesh. Karl shook his head. "You shouldn't have finished me with your hand, miss. It weren't fair." Karl said. It was just as I'd feared. Patricia didn't seem to pick up on the significance. "Oh...I'm sorry, I tried my best. It was just so sudden." Patricia gave an unsure smile, motioning to the sticky mess. Karl sighed. He reached down and put his penis back in his pants. "Okay. Wait right here miss." Karl stepped away from the car, heading back to his cruiser. Finally able to speak, my voice bubbled out like steam as I whispered frantically to Patricia. "Just what do you think you're doing?" I hissed. Patricia didn't look up. She was sponging at the congealed globs of cum in a sort of daze. "I don't know. I didn't know he meant to...that is, if I had realized-" Patricia used her finger to wipe a particularly thick, congealed droplet off her nipple. She stared at the white glob on the end of her finger, almost in a trance. I watched her mouth open, her tongue flicking out a little onto her lips, tasting a little of the cum still lingering there. I hissed at her. "HEY! Patricia! You're obviously hysterical. Get yourself together. We're going home right now." I said firmly. This seemed to snap her back to reality. Patricia turned to face the mirror. Her lipstick was smeared on one side of her mouth. She had wiped the cum and saliva off of her chin, but a thin rope of it clung to her disheveled hair. "Oh my goodness, I am a mess!" she said, almost laughing. "I think we're fine though. I saved us, didn't I?" Patricia smiled at me. She was proud! I couldn't believe my eyes. Patricia almost beamed, clearly pleased with her ingenuity. My leg was falling asleep. I shifted in the seat angrily. The leather creaked. "Shhh. Here he comes." Patricia whispered. She self-consciously pulled her bra cups back up over her breasts, sliding the straps over her shoulders. She started to button up her silk blouse when Karl stopped by the window. Patricia leaned out. "Yes, officer?" She said, finishing up her buttons. "Please step out of the car, miss." Patricia stopped buttoning. She looked up at Karl. "I, I don't understand. I thought you were going to let me off." "And I am miss. There's just one more thing. I gotta do a search." Patricia glanced in the mirror. I gave her a panicked look. "There's nothing in the car, I assure you. Just some old blankets and-" "Not the car, miss. You." Karl had a strange twinkle in his eye. I noticed one of his hands was stuffed in his jacket pocket. At that moment, I considered just giving myself up. I couldn't let her suffer more indecency just so I could dodge a ticket. Patricia seemed to know what I was thinking, and glanced into the mirror at me. I saw her fear, but I also saw some of my own thoughts kicking around. What if he got embarrassed at what I had seen? He obviously hadn't called anything in on the radio yet. I suddenly didn't know what this man was capable of, and I was acutely aware of the gun holstered at his belt. Patricia made the decision, though. Her hand slid back and grasped mine for a moment, squeezing it. Then she turned, putting on a brave but tired smile. "Why, of course, officer. Whatever you say." Patricia undid her safety belt and stepped out of the car. She closed the door behind her. No longer in immediate danger of being seen, I sat up in the back seat. I could see by the light of Karl's headlights, and hear out the rolled-down window. Karl stopped Patricia just by the hood of the Mustang. "Hands on your head please." Patricia did as asked. "Pardon my reach miss, regulations you know." Karl nodded and winked. Patricia smiled back, but her eyes read deep uncertainty. Karl began patting my wife's legs down, through her black dinner slacks. His hands went places only Patricia or I had ever touched. He rubbed and groped her firm calves, her thighs, working his way up to her ass. He massaged her buns, then groped around to the front. He cupped his palm against her small mound, rubbing her. Patricia held her hands on her head obediently, wobbling slightly from his firm efforts. Karl spun Patricia around, so her back was to him. He groped her belly from behind, then slid up to her breasts. He gave them a good squeeze, rubbing them and finding the nipples through the still-damp fabric. He paused. "Maybe you got something in there after all, miss. Afraid I'm going to have to strip you a bit." Without waiting for a response, Karl grabbed the base of Patricia's blouse and slid it up her thin midsection. She wobbled, holding her hands straight up as she mumbled a half-hearted question. "Are you sure this is necessary? If someone were to drive by-" "Nobody on this road, this time of night, miss. Hold still there." Karl pulled her blouse up to her bra, then grabbed that as well. He slid the whole kit and kaboodle up, over her head to her forearms, then left it there. Her breasts dangled free, her belly moving in and out with her quick breaths. Patricia struggled to pull the blouse all the way off her arms. "Just leave that there, miss." Patricia realized couldn't pull it off if she wanted to. Her arms were tangled in the bra, pinned above. Karl took a long look at my wife, standing there half-naked on the gravel road in the middle of nowhere. Her breasts were two heavy teardrops, the nipples almost pointing skyward from her arms being up. The flesh was pale in the headlights, the two globes covered in goose-pimples, slick in spots that were still glazed with cum. Her nipples poked out, rigid in the freezing air. Then Karl hooked his thumbs under the waist of her slacks, and gave a good tug. Her underwear came with them, sliding down to her ankles. "Oh, my-" Patricia staggered slightly in her heels, caught off balance. Karl steadied her. "That's it miss, almost over." Karl stepped back and took a look. Karl marveled at my wife's ass. Years of horse-back riding had giver her a tight, curvy rump. Being an area the sun never shone upon, as the saying goes, her ass was a pale, creamy white. Then Karl turned her around a bit, looking at her pubis. Though she sometimes trimmed it, her pussy was slightly unkempt, a triangle of light brown fur trapped between her creamy thighs. At this moment I looked closer, risking being seen. Did I see moisture between my wife's legs? Sure enough, I could see small dewdrops clinging to her bush, glistening in the headlight beams. I fumed! Could she possibly be enjoying this? It must just be perspiration, out of fear. I shifted back down, struggling to see her face. She certainly looked nervous. Then Karl pulled something out of his jacket. It was a little disposable camera. He aimed the lens at my wife's rump and popped off a shot. Phyllis was caught of guard at the flash, but I was relieved. If all he wanted to do was get a few photos of my wife's ass, then it wasn't as bad as all that. Patricia seemed to think so too, her body relaxing a little. She turned slightly, offering him a profile, but careful to hide her face. Karl snapped another photo. He slid the camera back into his jacket. "Are you almost done, officer? I'm a bit chilled." Indeed, Patricia had started to shiver. Her breasts swayed with the motion. Karl was still transfixed on her ass, however, and his agenda was not quite complete. What happened next, well, it was like a surreal dream at first, and I found myself in a sort of shock, or I would have acted sooner than I did. As it was things had gone pretty far, but from here on in I had to fight to tell myself it was really happening. And in retrospect, though I don't like saying it, some part of me was getting off on the whole show. Karl just kept staring at that ass, like it was a fancy appliance he was having trouble deciding if he wanted to buy or not. "Almost, missus. Final thing we got to do. Cavity search." Now, my wife may not be the most learned person in the world, but this term certainly caught her attention. "What?!? Officer, I assure you-" Karl pushed Patricia forward. "Bend over the hood miss." Karl gripped her neck and pushed her down. Without her hands to steady her, she plopped down on the cold metal hood, bosoms first. Her breasts were squished below her, smashing against the hood into oblong orbs. "OH MY! It's SOOO COLD!" she said, almost screaming. Karl hushed her, then reached down and lifted her left foot. He slid her pant leg off of her ankle, onto the ground. Her high-heel came with it, and her bare foot stepped lightly onto the gravel. Patricia stood slightly cocked, bent over the car awkwardly. Then Karl reached back into his pocket. He pulled out a latex glove, sliding it over his right hand and snapping it tight. He pulled out a small jar of Vaseline, and dipped into it. When Karl's Vaseline-covered fingers met my wife's rump, she almost leapt over the car. Patricia stuttered something incoherent, shivering madly. Karl rubbed the Vaseline carefully over the two curves of her ass. His palm massaged it in. Then he probed between her cheeks, his index finger sliding down her crack. Patricia leaned forward, pleading with him. "Oh, officer, please, don't you think I've learned my OH MY! OH! OH MY-" Karl slid his finger into her ass, all the way up to the knuckle. He worked it in and out a few times, then slid another in with it. Patricia stuttered incoherently, spreading her legs to allow the least amount of friction. "That's it miss, nice and co-operative." Karl played with her anus a little more, then pulled his fingers out. Patricia drooped, drained from struggling. She leaned into the car hood. Her breasts jiggled against it as she shivered. Then Karl reached down and unzipped his pants. I saw him do it, but Patricia could only hear the creak of the metal tangs. She struggled to look over her shoulder. "Oh p-please, no, officer! I've n-never, that is, I d-d-don't-" Patricia's teeth chattered with the cold. Karl pulled out his cock. It was erect again, 7" of thick meat. He wasted no time squeezing that meat between her buns, placing the head at the entrance to my wife's rectum. "One more check, miss. Just doing my duty." Karl said. He slowly slid his cock into her butt, inch by inch disappearing between my wife's ass. "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!" Patricia groaned loudly, leaning into the car, trying to inch away from the rod driving up her bum. She was trapped, though, and Karl mercilessly slid himself into her. Patricia whimpered. Then he stopped, about half of his 7" buried between her buns. Karl seemed to pause, gauging her discomfort. I could only imagine Patricia's agony, violated like this. I felt horrible, but didn't move yet of out sheer terror. Patricia shifted a little, adjusting to the intrusion. Karl then put a hand on each of Patricia's butt cheeks, and began sliding in and out of her, ever so slowly. He was careful never to go any deeper than half way. The first four inches of his penis glistened with Vaseline, dipping in and out of my wife's ass. Patricia's legs made quiet thumping noises against the side of the car. She bit her lip, straining not to cry out. I waited breathlessly nonetheless, waiting to hear her call to me, to have me make it stop. Then I realized maybe she wouldn't, or maybe she couldn't out of fear. I was a little more sober now, and decided things had gone far enough, indeed too far. I tossed the blanket off and started to climb over the seat. Then Patricia finally did speak out, but what she said was utterly unexpected. "...deeper..." Patricia groaned. It caught Karl and I both off guard. Karl stopped pumping, stunned. I froze there, halfway over the back seat. Patricia was breathing heavily. She brought her bound arms down from above her head, then put them under her on the hood. She splayed her little hands out, like two fans, on the cold metal. Then, with her eyes closed and a look of deep concentration on her face, she slowly, ever so slowly, pushed her ass back into him. Her butt started swallowing his cock. Karl watched it disappear. And though she winced a few times, shaking all the while, she got it all inside herself. With an audible slurp, his Vaseline-covered dick was buried to the balls in her ass. "Unh..." Patricia groaned, shuddering. Karl's mouth was open, his eyes fixed on the two gorgeous butt cheeks nestled against his abdomen. Then Patricia started to rock back and forth, sliding his member in and out. She rested her elbows on the hood now, her breasts swaying in front of her. "Come on, officer, do your duty." Patricia said. She wasn't asking. She was begging. My jaw dropped. Was I hearing this? I slowly sank into the back seat. Karl woke up, enough to start matching my wife's motions. Then he reached around and grabbed Patricia's breasts, groping them carefully this time. "Do you like that miss?" He asked, sounding a little unsure, almost like a little boy. Patricia moaned a positive response. She reached back and grabbed his buttocks, pulling him deeper into her with each thrust. I pulled the blanket back over me, like a kid watching a scene in a movie he's not sure he wants to see. Karl really began pounding into my wife's ass. His balls slapped against her pussy, his thighs whapped against her buns. Soon he was moaning too, thumping her against the car. As Karl fucked my wife in the ass, the whole automobile began to rock, me with it. "Oh oh OH UNH!" Suddenly Patricia was coming, her body shuddering with orgasm. She lunged forward, bucking her now-loose hair over her head, her $175 hair style tossed apart, her golden locks spilling onto the hood. Karl climaxed shortly after. He thrust a last stroke into her bowels, grunting as he spurted his seed deep within my wife. Patricia emitted a wailing moan, grinding her ass against him for all she was worth. Karl slumped forward onto Patricia's bare back, huffing and puffing. He held her like that for a good minute, their bodies nestled like spoons. Then Karl leaned back. He slid his cock out of my wife's ass slowly, like a wasp removing its stinger. Her ass was reluctant to let go, gripping him, milking him as he dragged it out of her. The head finally popped out. To my horror, a dibble of cum squirted out of her ass, running in a rivulet down her bare thigh. Suddenly there was a noise. We all three turned to look. It was a car up the road! Karl scrambled as the sound of tires on gravel came from a mile or so away. I could see the headlights approaching. Patricia struggled to get her shirt down. Karl zipped his pants. The headlights neared. Patricia hastily pulled her pants up and hopped into the car. The other automobile rolled up. It was another squad car. Tom Billingsley, the sheriff, leaned out the window. "Everything alright here, Karl?" "Oh sure, sir. This miss here was swerving. Spilled her water." Patricia patted the still-damp stain on her blouse, this time her buttons fastened all the way up. "Well, no harm done. Let her off with a warning, okay Karl?" The sheriff said. Karl nodded. "I was just in the process of doing that, sir." Karl winked at Patricia. To my consternation, she winked back. "Alright, have a safe night miss." The sheriff's car creaked out across the gravel road, picking up speed. Karl wiped the sweat from his face. He reached down onto the ground and picked up Patricia's left shoe, dusting it off. As he handed it through the window, they both looked at the latex glove on Karl's hand. "God, I hope the sheriff didn't notice!" Karl laughed. Patricia laughed as well. It was a real laugh, with music in it. She tossed the shoe into the back, and it clunked me right on the forehead. I grumbled, but Patricia ignored me. "So, am I free to go, officer?" Patricia asked. "Of course, miss. Drive safe, you hear? And don't go spilling any more drinks." "Will-do, officer." Patricia said sweetly. She put the car into gear. Then Karl leaned in for one last word. "Oh, and if you see that no-account husband of yours, tell him he got off lucky. Next time I see him drunk, he's getting hauled in." Patricia's eyes widened. Before she could react, Karl leaned in and gave her a deep kiss. Patricia faltered, then met his kiss and returned it. Karl pulled away from her lips with a pop. He tipped his hat. "And I ain't letting him off with no warning." Karl said, and headed back to his car. ------------------------------------------------ Patricia drove remarkably well down the gravel road, the Mustang's tires slipping hardly at all. I sat in the back, in silence, watching her little hands work the wheel. Her foot was a little stiff on the brake, but she worked the wheel fine. She glanced at me in the rear view mirror from time to time, her face kind of expectant, brow furrowed. I finally opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "Out with it." Patricia said. I could see her bracing herself inside, for whatever I was going to say. "You ain't the girl I married." It startled her. Whatever she thought I was going to say, that wasn't it. Patricia mulled it over a little, then spoke. "No. I guess I'm not." She said softly. We just stared at each other in the mirror for a while. Then Patricia tried a smile out on me, just a little one. I wanted to be sore at her, but it was like looking at a kitten that peed on your bed and was real sorry for it after. I knew it was me that pushed her into the driver's seat to begin with. And though maybe that didn't account for the whole ride, it was enough to make me go soft, for a minute anyway. I smiled back, just a little. Then Patricia went back to driving. She turned on the radio, and settled into the driver's seat. I lay down in the back, pulled the flannel blanket over my head, and went to sleep. This story is protected by (c) copyright and may not be duplicated, reprinted, copied or placed on any Internet Website without permission of the author. All rights reserved.