by Iona Nixon
A Lesson Learned
Kelly Hart had driven the long stretch of rural highway many times. The road stretched between two small towns; the one to which she had recently moved and the one she was coming from that night. Her friend from high school lived in the other town. The two girls had been bar hopping, singing karaoke and in general having a wonderful time. Now it was a little after one on Saturday morning. Kelly was on her way home. Although she had been drinking, Kelly was confident that she was perfectly fit to drive.
Traffic was very sparse on the road in the early morning. There wasn't much of anything between the two small towns but farms and farmers, a couple of subdivisions and a long since closed service station. For the most part the road was straight and the land was flat. Although Kelly had Metallica blaring through the speakers of her Chevy Impala, the lateness of the hour began to make her eyelids heavy. A patch of fog loomed ahead, and though it didn't look like much as she approached, it quickly became very thick. Kelly heard the clicking of her tires on the center line reflectors and realized that she was drifting into the other lane. As that realization hit her, she was suddenly staring into the headlight of an oncoming motorcycle. She veered hard to the right and managed to avoid the motorcycle, but in the process left the road, slid down a slight bank and ended up narrowly missing a barbed wire fence at the edge of a field.
For a moment Kelly sat with her foot jammed on the brake, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was racing. That had been way to close. The fog bank was still thick but it looked like she could get back on the road if she drove up just a few more yards. As she took her foot off the brake, a sudden presence of red and blue flashing lights made her heart jump again. She looked back over her left shoulder to the source of the lights. It was the motorcycle. Kelly had nearly hit a motorcycle cop!
As the man approached, Kelly rolled down her window. She was fighting back the tears because she knew he wasn't going to have much sympathy for her. Her husband Tom was going to be furious. She was going to jail. She was going to lose her license.
"License and registration," the officer said to her. She had to dig her license out of her wallet, which was in her purse. The registration was in the glove box. By the time she handed the officer what he'd asked for, her hands were shaking uncontrollably. The man's face was resolute. More than that, he looked pissed.
"Step out of the car, please," he commanded. "Have you been drinking tonight, Ma'am?"
"I... I had a couple of drinks earlier," she stammered out. "But only a couple."
The officer walked back to his bike and talked for a moment on the radio. Then he returned with a machine and a plastic tube wrapped in plastic. "Okay, Ma'am, I'm going to ask you to blow into this machine. You have the right to refuse, but that just means we'll get a court order and you'll have to do it anyway."
Although she didn't want to do it, Kelly had little choice but to comply. The machine showed that her blood alcohol was .090, which was just barely over the limit. The officer showed her the reading and explained that she was driving under the influence; that she had crossed the center line; that she had nearly caused what would have been a fatal accident; that her car was going to be towed and that she was going to jail. Further, since the judge wouldn't be available until Monday, she would be spending the weekend in jail. Kelly began to plead her with the officer. She was just barely over the limit, she wasn't speeding, and the only reason she crossed the center line was because of the fog.
The officer was unmoved. "People die on these streets, Ma'am, from people just like you who think that driving after drinking is okay. Over the limit is over the limit. You could have killed someone tonight with your careless behavior. You broke the law, and for that you deserve to be punished."
"Okay, punish me, but don't destroy me," she pleaded. "I can't work if I lose my license, and if I lose my job we'll lose our home. Please. Isn't there something we could work out?" Her mind raced as she made the offer.
"Something we could work out?" the man asked. "Show me what you mean."
She thought about the cash she had in her purse, but after the evening's activities it was less than forty dollars. That wouldn't work. Her eyes locked on his. His stare was cold an emotionless. Kelly backed up against her car. She was desperate now. Her hands dropped to her blouse and almost without thinking she pulled it off. In five years of marriage she had never even kissed another man, but now the only thing she had to bargain with was her body. It was that or face a weekend in jail and DUI charges.
The officer looker at the woman and crossed his arms. Kelly knew this was a bad idea. She had just added attempted bribery to her growing list of offenses. His eyes looked her over impassively as she stood there, fidgeting. Quickly she reached behind her back and unlatched her bra. In an instant that, too, was lying on the trunk of her car. "I... I don't want to go to jail," she whimpered.
The police officer turned and walked to the far side of her car, so that it shielded them from the view of any passing motorists. With a motion of his hand he summoned her to come over and stand in front of him. Kelly was terrified, but willing to do almost anything to avoid arrest. When she was in front of him, shaking in fear, he commanded, "All of it. Off"
Kelly was a little relieved that he was at least considering her offer, though she also feared the potential consequences of what was about to happen. Still, she quickly stripped off the remainder of her clothing before the man could change his mind and take her to jail instead. He stood there looking her over for a moment, then gave a disgusted grunt and shook his head. Kelly's heart leapt in her throat. He had made a decision he didn't really want to do. Was he arresting her?
"On your knees, you drunk bitch," the cop said. Kelly immediately obeyed. She never thought she ever cheat on her husband, but if letting this brute take her meant she wouldn't go to jail then it was worth it. He just stood there while she reached up and unzipped his trousers. Kelly tried not to think about what she was doing as she pulled his cock free and slipped it into her mouth.
The officer's penis was thicker than her husband's. It tasted of sweat and grime, but Kelly wasn't in a position to complain. She slobbered over it and began to pump it with her hand as she bobbed her mouth on it. As she licked, teased and sucked, the officer carefully removed his utility belt and put it on the roof of her car. Kelly slid her hand to her pussy as she continued trying to give the best blowjob of her life. If he was satisfied, she would stay out of jail. Strangely, though, she felt incredibly turned on by this.
When the officer's cock was fully hard, he reached down and pulled her up by her hair. When she stood, he turned her around and pushed her against the car door. His hand gripped her wrist and pulled her arms behind her back. After snapping a handcuff on her wrist, he repeated with the other hand. Was he arresting her anyway? Before she could ask, he turned her back around, lifted her leg up, and pushed his cock into her. Kelly let out a soft moan as she felt him enter her. His hands moved to grip her rump. She had one foot on the trunk lid. Her hands were on the edge of the window trim for support.
The handcuffs hurt her wrists and dug into her back. The officer began to fuck her so hard her entire body bounced with each thrust. She could hear cars passing by them but with her back to the road she couldn't see anything. All she could do was to hang on while the man pummeled her. His strong hands moved to grip her breasts. As he continued, he pinched her nipples between his thumb and index finger.
The rough treatment stirred a passion in Kelly she never knew she had. Before long she was riding him as hard as he was fucking her. Her wrists ached and the car door bruised her back, but she met his thrusts and didn't seem to mind being slammed against the car door. Their bodies attacked each other in furious passion until she yielded to the pleasure and had one of the most intense orgasms of her life.
The officer just pulled out of her, turned her around and bent her over the trunk of the car. She felt a searing pain as he slapped her ass hard, and then another as he left a matching hand p
rint on her other cheek. Then his thumbs pulled her cheeks apart and Kelly felt pressure against her anus. Before she could beg him not to do what she knew he intended, he put the slickened tip of his cock against her anus and gave a hard shove. A sharp stab of pain shot though Kelly's ass as the officer pushed almost half way in with one thrust. Then he pulled back slowly, gripped her hair and yanked her head back as he drove forward.
Although her husband had always wanted to try anal sex, Kelly had always refused. To her it was dirty, degrading, unnatural, and as far as she had heard, painful. The officer was certainly proving all of that. He pinned her down with one hand, gripped her hair tightly with the other and pounded her as just as hard as he could. Kelly thought her ass was going to tear from the size of the invading cock, and as far as she knew it had. She whimpered as the man continued. The car beneath her was cold and unyielding. It offered little cushion against the fury of the assault. The brutal pummeling seemed to go on for well over an hour. When the man was finally ready to cum he pulled her off the trunk of the car, pushed her to her knees, shoved his cock in her mouth and released a torrent of cum. Then he stood up, re-fastened his jeans and put his utility belt back around his waist. Kelly was tired and sore, but happy to not be going to jail. "There's a Denny's at the edge of town," the officer said. "Stop and have a cup of coffee before you drive any further. Tell them it's on Officer Duncan." With that, the man walked back to his bike and thundered off into the distance. Kelly finished dressing and moments later was back on the road, heading for town.
Although she was nearly home, she stopped at the restaurant as she was told. She ordered a cup of coffee; black with two sugars; and told the waitress that it was supposed to be on Officer Duncan. The waitress only smiled knowingly. Others in the diner chuckled and whispered to each other. Kelly thought she was being the butt of a joke, so she asked the waitress to explain.
"Officer Duncan was killed by a drunk driver about 15 years ago," the waitress said. The woman who hit him was wealthy and had a good lawyer. They blamed the accident on the fog, not her drinking. The woman got away with it. Ever since then Officer Duncan has dished out his own punishment to women who drink and drive."
Kelly felt a chill run up her spine. The waitress just smiled and said, "Enjoy your coffee. It's on the house." She gave out a hearty laugh, turned away and walked back to the counter.
The End.
The Lady Cop
It was late Sunday night when I flew home from a business trip, landing in a cold Fall rain. I'm a haberdasher, specializing in high end suits, run my own shop and had just spent the last four days in New York City meeting with suppliers and taking in a few fashion shows. My plan was to go home, unpack my suits, and sleep for eighteen hours, but fate was about to intervene in the strangest of ways.
I parked my car in the garage and walked through the rain to the back porch, opened the screen door and saw the window was broken, the door unlocked. Oh shit, I thought, chills going through me. Dropping my luggage, I went through the house and sure enough, I'd been robbed! The flat screen tv and surround sound stereo were gone, and they also got the microwave. I ran upstairs to my dressing room, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing all my clothes still in the closet. I've got more than fifty custom suits and tuxedos, plus all the shirts, shoes, handkerchiefs, pocket squares and accessories, a very valuable wardrobe, especially for someone in my business. Suits are my life, the only time I'm not wearing one is at the gym or while doing yard work, otherwise I'm always dressed for success.
I was relieved until checking the top bureau drawer and the watches were gone! I only had five of them but they were top of the line, Tag Heuer, Movado, Rolex, Cartier, and a very exotic Breitling, almost $20,000 of watches I'd collected over the last twenty years, gone. My face flushed, I went downstairs, poured myself a Scotch and called the police. I started making a list of missing items, everything could be replaced, except those watches. At least my laptop and camera were with me on the trip and safe.
I also started a pot of coffee and by the time I'd gone through the house it was almost an hour since I called the police. They must be really busy at midnight on a Sunday, I thought, when I heard a hard knock at the front door. To say I was irritated is an understatement, the edge was taken off by the Scotch, but I was prepared to give these cops a piece of my mind for the slow response. Until I opened the door, that is.
She was a lady cop, almost a foot shorter than me, sandy blonde hair peeking from under a black hat, her body rounded out and mostly hidden under the dark uniform, solid looking. But her face was like an angel, smooth chalk white skin and pale pink lips, a soft sloping nose and piercing green eyes. "Hi, please, uh, come in," I told her.
"I'm officer Collins," her voice was husky, like she was trying to be tough. "Are you, the homeowner?" She demanded, her light brown eyebrows furrowing.
"Yes, Thomas Avenel, I own the house." She brushed past me into the living room and could see where the tv and stereo were missing. "They broke in through the back door," I started to explain but she cut me right off.
"OK, when did you discover the break in? And why are you wearing a suit this late?" I felt her eyes on me, the cop, judging. What a bitch, I thought, my emotions getting the better of me. "I discovered the break in an hour and a half ago when I called and reported it. I just got home from New York City on business. That's why I'm wearing a suit this late. Now do you want to see where they broke in or not?"
Officer Collins pretty green eyes narrowed for a second, burning into my own and then I just laughed. "What's so funny?" she asked. "Ok," I raised my hands up, "I get it. This is probably really boring bullshit for you and I'm really fucking sorry I got robbed here and ruined your whole goddamn night. I'd say let's forget this altogether except I need a police report for my insurance company. If you want to be a bitch about it then fine, must be fun going around bullying innocent people that get their shit broken into and ripped off." I took a defiant sip of Scotch, not taking my eyes from her.
For a second I thought she was going to explode but then she softened, the trace of a smile on her lips. "Ya know, I've been attacked by stupid drunk homeowners before, bullshit DV calls," she said, walking straight towards me. She reached out and touched the lapel of my suit coat, feeling the smooth material, "But you look pretty harmless in the suit and all. This is nice," she gave a soft caress and let go.
"Thanks. Silk from China, custom made in Italy." Our eyes were locked, and I felt a thrill running through me. "And I'm not drunk. Want some coffee?"
"Sure," she smiled. "Show me the broken door."
I got her a cup of coffee and she checked the door and started filling out paperwork. "Pretty standard, these wood doors with the windows on them are a real security issue. You're better off with a solid steel door and a locking storm door. Crooks see that and move on."
I noticed a scent coming from her, like lavender, very light on the air. Her head was down, scribbling on the clipboard. I walked her through the house, noting the stolen items and then she headed upstairs. As I followed her up my face was less than a foot from the incredible sight of her shapely ass, taught against the seam of those tight black cop pants under the equipment belt with her gun and accessories. Two round globes swaying between wide, athletic hips. Jesus, I thought, licking my lips, lady cop must work out hardcore.
At the top of the stairs I lead the way to the dressing room to show her where the watches were. I opened the drawer but she was staring with a smile at the rack of suits and the full length wall mirrors. "Wow, you've got some clothes here."
"You have no idea," I smiled and explained what I do for a living.
"Really?" Officer Collins, cocked her head. "You probably know more about fashion than I do."
"Well, you're current ensemble leaves a lot to be desired," I heard myself saying as I fantasized about that curvy body, "But in your line of work it fits quite nicely." She blushed, to my astonishment.
It was strange, I normally go
for the tall, dark, extra thin type, but that black cop uniform combined with the blonde hair, pale skin and those sparkling green eyes were turning me on. "Uh, anyway," I said, coming back to myself, "The watches were in here."
"Here," she pointed to the drawer at the same time I did, our hands grazing and it was almost electric. I looked into the mirror on the bureau and our eyes met. Her lips pressed together, almost a frown and the image of us kissing started off in my mind. The moment stretched on and then the radio attached to her shoulder crackled. She stepped out of the room, speaking into it and I followed her back downstairs to the kitchen, wondering if I'd blown an opportunity there.
"Okay HQ," she was saying, "I'll catch up with the other unit in five minutes, out. Okay Mr. Avenel, I need you to sign this report," Damn, I thought, she's back all business. What the hell was I thinking? I signed the statement. "So do you think I'll ever see my stuff again?"
"Not your tv or stereo," she laughed, totally serious. "But those watches, we'll see. I'm going to take a look at something right now, so give me your number and here's my card."
"Uh, yeah," my heart leapt in my throat and I rattled my number off, using all my willpower not to snatch her business card off the counter. Just be cool, man, I told myself.
"Ok," she started for the front door and I followed, "Keep your phone on, this might not take long. I know it's late, have another drink or," she cocked an eyebrow, "change outta that stuffy suit or something."
Now it was my turn to blush but I laughed it off. "My suits are definitely not stuffy. Thank you Ms. Collins."
She laughed, "You're right, it's pretty sexy. Bye!" I watched her walk to the police cruiser and jump in. She hit the flashers and raced down the street before the siren kicked on. My cock stirred, my breath was short, I loosened my tie, took it off, and made another drink.
I couldn't get the image of this hot blonde lady cop out of my mind, mentally undressing her, imagining all the naughty things we would do and I recognized it for it was: animal attraction.
