10-7 Again: Due Care and AttentionbyTheHotJD©
(The events in this story come after the events described in "10-7: Field Sobriety Test." I strongly recommend you read that story before this one.)
Jen could remember a time when she would have been annoyed by the prospect of arriving home late at night, after a long day at work and an hour-long commute, only to find her husband asleep and her home in darkness. Tonight she was pleased by the idea. She didn't want to talk to him. She just wanted to put on her nightgown, slip into bed without waking Charles, and go to sleep.
Two weeks had gone by, very slowly, since the night she had been pulled over by a state trooper named Trent. That night, in the front seat of his cruiser, she had straddled him, and she had taken his hard cock deep within her, and she had let him do as he pleased with her, and she had come away changed. She had crept like a stranger into her own home later that night, showered quickly in the downstairs bathroom, and slid into bed next to her sleeping husband. She lay awake all night for fear that Trent's strong hands had left a mark on her, or that Charles would smell him on her, or that she would give herself away somehow, but the next morning, everything was normal again. Charles was his sweet, gentle self, and Jen went back to work, and it was an ordinary day. Jen thought she was relieved.
As that next day and the next crept by, Jen's mind drifted unbidden to that night on the side of the road. She could hear Trent's harsh whisper in her ear. She could feel the heat of his hard hands claiming her. Her pussy clenched, remembering the feeling of Trent's thick cock inside her. He had asked if her husband fucked her like this, and at first, she had fallen silent, not wanting her husband to intrude. Time passed, and she convinced herself that she had been protecting Charles, wanting to be loyal to him, not wanting to compound her sin by telling this stranger the truth. The truth was that Charles couldn't please her like this because he had not known she wanted this kind of pleasure. She had not known it herself.
The nights were hardest. At first, the drive home was interminable. She would glance over at the gravel shortcuts where the state troopers would lie in wait for speeders. She would replay her encounter with Trent in her head, augmenting it with her own newly discovered fantasies. She would arrive home to find Charles asleep in bed. Afraid of waking him and facing the consequences, she might slide out of bed and creep into the bathroom, where she would straddle the toilet in the dark and bring herself to climax with her fingers and her vivid memories.
Last Saturday, unable to stand the pressure of her own growing need, she had gone shopping for racy lingerie. Alone in the dressing room, she had admired the shape of her body in the black lace corset, every curve made magnificent in this seductress's garment. She had put everything on at home and then lain in wait for Charles, imagining the expression on his face as she slid her new satin robe off and showed herself to him. That night, she thought, she would not be his responsible and hard-working wife. In the candlelight, dressed in black lace, she would be a siren, a temptation, a seductive woman who was hungry for him.
When the time came, she watched him come into their bedroom, and she slowly unfolded her legs from her perch on the edge of the bed before slowly walking toward him. She allowed the satin to slide over her shoulders, falling to her feet in a silken pool as she advanced on him. Charles smiled -- but it was not the smile she wanted. It was an indulgent smile, the kind one offers a child who is showing off a Halloween costume.
"Aw, babe," he said, with that indulgent smile on his face. "Did you do all this for me?"
Jen knew that the answer was no. She nodded yes anyway.
He chuckled, and for a moment she was sure he was going to say that she was cute. She was not sure what she would do if that happened.
"You don't have to do that for me," he said. He cupped her face between his hands. "You know I think you're sexy just the way you are."
She could feel her eyes burn with tears. She was too close to him to turn away, and she knew he saw her eyes welling. He used his thumbs to gently dry her eyes, kissed her on the forehead and smiled at her again.
"Now. Why don't you get into bed while I put out these candles?"
That night in the dark, after she had unfastened everything and laid it carefully aside, Charles had made gentle love to her. He had stroked her clit in regular, counterclockwise circles -- a-one and a-two and a-three and a-four -- and carefully watched the expression on her face for some cue that she was ready for him. Jen had never understood what the cue was, some lift of her eyebrow or quirk of her mouth. It was something she did quite by accident, she was sure, because she was never entirely ready for him when he entered her, and he was usually done and quite pleased with himself before she was ready to begin.
All of it -- the indulgent smile, the darkness, the predictable, forceless rhythm of him -- made her furious. Worse, memories of that unsatisfying episode, and the promise of hundreds more like it for the rest of her married life, had begun to crowd out thoughts of Trent. Charles said he found her sexy the way that she was. But he didn't really know her. He couldn't know her, because she didn't really know herself.
Tonight, driving home late from work again, she considered the problem again. Was she really the wild woman who had been driven mercilessly to climax by the young stranger on the front seat of the car? Was she the responsible wife to a dependable but uninteresting man? Was she the predictable woman trying to recapture the feeling of that one night, the way that a child wants to preserve the make-believe magic of Halloween? Or was she a truly sexual creature, denying her needs in order to preserve her role in a marriage that meant less to her with every passing day?
Alone again on the dark highway, the Isolated Stretch of Road, she couldn't answer her questions. She didn't know which Jen she was. But she did know which one she wanted to be.
That version of herself turned off the headlights.
She had thought it would be more difficult to see without the lights on. Perhaps she had the moon to thank for this level of visibility; she could see the outline of the road and the shape of the dotted line, if not the reflectors embedded along the white hash marks. In her racing fantasies, she imagined that her dark, sexual self had night vision, able to see the slightest movement of her prey under cover of darkness. The dark was not somewhere for her to hide. For this part of herself, the darkness was home.
Behind her, the hectic strobe of lightning-blue lights cut through the night. She felt a broad grin slowly spread over her face, just as secret heat began to spread through her core. She didn't even know that it would be Trent; logically, she did realize that there were other state troopers out there. In her heart, she felt certain that it was Trent who had caught her misbehaving again, but in the deepest part of her subconscious mind, she didn't really care who it was. Embracing the thought that any one of perhaps hundreds of state troopers might be pulling her over right now, as well as the thought that she might just have sex with whoever came to the window, made her wet.
She had obediently pulled off to the side of the road and turned off the engine before the trooper got out of the car. She watched him in the side view mirror, waiting for him. The predatory feeling settled over her again, and she remembered how good that had felt the last time, how pleasant it was to consider her alternatives. It was hard to see in the harsh backlighting of the police lights, but his shadow moved with confidence toward her. She thought she recognized the shape of his body, the set of those broad shoulders and lean hips. She thought it was Trent, but maybe they all looked like that. How wonderful that might be, she thought.
He rapped on the closed window with his knuckles, and she rolled the window down just a couple of inches. Since she had been expecting Trent, she was not entirely surprised to see him, although she was pleased to be lucky enough to get him twice in two weeks. She could not see his eyes in the shadow made by the brim of his hat, but there was enough light for her to see the smile slowly appear on his face. He was surprised to see her, but he wasn't shocked. Clearly, he had considered this possibility as well.
"You again?" he asked.
She just smiled back for a second. "That's right."
"Were you aware that your headlights were out, ma'am?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Are they operational?" he asked. "Are they broken, or just turned off?"
"They're just turned off," she said.
He put one hand on the roof of the car and leaned over toward her. She could smell him, primarily soap with just a faint hint of sweat. Her mouth watered, and she had to swallow.
"I know you think you know the highway back here well enough to drive it with your eyes closed," he said, "but you've got to keep those lights on. It gets very dark back here, and the deer are running across the highway this time of year."
"I know," she said. "I see them, too, sometimes."
He straightened up again, his body moving away from the window. A surge of panic rushed through her. He just looked down at her for a moment, not moving any closer or farther away, probably able to sense her terror that he would tell her to keep the lights on and then get back into the car, as if nothing had ever happened between them.
"How about you turn the lights on for me? Just so I can see that they're working."
She turned them on, illuminating the empty stretch of road immediately ahead of her.
"Okay. That's all right; you can turn 'em back off. For now. Let me see your license and registration, and I'll run you through the system, and then you can be on your way."
She sat stock still on the driver's seat, not knowing what to do. He looked back at her from outside. The silence only went on for a few seconds, but it was enough for her to realize that he really did want her license and registration. She turned away from the window as she rifled through her purse. Her face had gone hot, and she didn't want to take the chance that he could see her blushing in this light. She didn't quite turn back around when she gave him the papers, and he took them from her without touching her.
"Be right back," he said. Then, as she looked down at the center of the steering wheel, she could hear him walking away on the gravel shoulder of the highway. After a moment, she looked into her rearview mirror, desperate to know whether he was on his radio, letting his dispatcher know that he was going to be out of service for a little while, but the glare from his lights kept her from seeing even his shadow. Maybe he really was just running her identification through the system. The car was registered to Charles, and his presence here, even in that small way, irritated her. She wondered what was keeping Trent. What was he doing?
All at once the lights behind her went out. In the renewed darkness, she could see moonlight glint off the door of the cruiser as Trent got out. Again, he moved toward her with deliberate slowness. Jen smiled. Even if there wasn't any more, the way he moved made her hot. She had belonged to him once. And she would again. She didn't know how to tap into that part of her that would make that happen, but she would do it somehow.
At the window again, Trent rested one hand on the roof of her car again. He gave her back the papers, and she put them back into her purse, this time without looking at them.
"There you go. Now have you learned anything tonight?"
She nodded. "I promise to keep the lights on. I don't know what got into me. I'm sorry."
The moonlight, from almost directly above them, cast his face deeply into shadow, but she could just make out his widening smile. Slowly, he reached for her. His long fingers stroked her face, moving back and back until his hand cupped her cheek. She savored the hard warmth of his palm, and she willed herself not to close her eyes. Her nipples went hard as she remembered these fingers digging into her.
"You're sorry?" he asked, and then he slid his thumb over her lips and then through them into her mouth.
Her tongue traced the length of his thumb, and her lips closed around it as she nodded. Her tongue went all the way around his thumb as he pulled it back out of her mouth, then pushed it back in again. She began to suck on it, matching his rhythm, trying not to suck on him too hard. The smile began to fade a little in the dark.
"Are you going to be a good girl now?" he asked.
She nodded again, taking his thumb between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She was very wet now. He pulled his thumb out of her mouth and watched as she licked her lips.
"Unlock all the doors and get out of the car. Leave the keys in the ignition."
She popped the switch on the door handle, unlocking all the doors, just as he opened the door for her. He didn't back away from the door, so he was very close to her when she got out, and she could feel the heat radiating off his big body. The top of her head was level with his shoulder. Reluctantly, she backed away from him so that he could shut the door. He inclined his head toward the rear door.
"Open it and get in," he said.
She opened the rear driver's side door and let herself into the back seat, lowering herself onto it while watching his face. Trent was not quite expressionless. It was the look of a man who liked the way things were going so far but wasn't entirely sure which of his pleasant options would pay off the best. He shut the door behind her firmly. She had to try hard not to look out the rear window at him as he crossed behind the car, her sensible family sedan. He let himself in on the passenger side, getting into the back seat with absolutely none of the awkwardness most people experience, let alone men of his size.
With the door shut behind him, he said, "Reach up there and lock us in."
As she did, she could see his shadow moving behind her. He was taking off his hat and setting it on the shelf beneath the rear window, over the rear brake light. He rested his arm across the length of the back seat, and when she sat back, they might have been a couple sitting there, sharing the back seat on the way to some uninteresting place or another. She realized that she was waiting for him to tell her what to do next. He looked back at her, the moonlight turning his blond hair almost white, and raised his eyebrow. It was so quiet her ears rang with it.
"Now," he said in a very low voice. "Come here and suck my cock like a good girl."
She slid over on the seat. The memory of herself in the black lace rose up quickly in her mind. Suddenly it took hold of her as she leaned over into his lap. She splayed her fingers out over his thigh and reached for his belt with her free hand. He arched his back, lifting his hips to accommodate her. She looked up at him and found him smiling back at her.
"Go on," he said.
She unfastened the heavy belt. In the near silence, the creak of the leather was very loud. She tucked her fingers under the waistband of his pants, where she undid two hooks, and then she let the zipper down. Trent lowered himself onto the back seat again as Jen reached into his open pants. She curled her fingers around his balls; she could hear his sharp indrawn breath as she squeezed him. Then she trailed her fingertips up the length of his shaft, savoring his heat. He stroked her hair with the palm of his hand before running his fingers through her sensible bob.
"Take it out," he said. His voice was a harsh whisper.
She slid his long cock out through the vent in his briefs. She had not gotten to see it so well the last time, and she studied the perfection of its shape, the ridge that ran the length of him, the contour of his head. She bent to kiss it, slowly opening her mouth to take the head of him inside, running her tongue around the very tip of him. She heard his long sigh, and encouraged, she began to tease the head of his cock, stroking it with the tip of her tongue, closing her lips around it. Soon she began to take more of him into her mouth, curling her tongue around the shaft, teasing the ridge at its underside. Her head rose up and down in his lap, in time with the sound of his breathing. Each time she dropped her head over him, she took more of him into her mouth, sucking harder on him. Her slow and steady pace teased him until his breath caught in his throat and he closed his fist in her hair. A low, animal sound issued from him, and something, some primitive force, took hold of her. She worked at him harder and faster as he began to thrust upward into her mouth. Greedily, she sought to take him deeper, sucking eagerly on him. In the hot closeness of the car, she could make out the heavy grunts of his pleasure and another sound, a wild, lustful moan that she eventually recognized as her own.
All at once, he pulled her hair, pulling her off him. She clawed at his thigh, wanting more. She looked up at him, need evident on her face.
"Get up there," he said. He gestured into the front seat. "Get up there."
She struggled numbly up into the space between the two front seats. She tried to balance herself there, wondering where to put her hands. She was just about to swing her leg up and over the center console when Trent grabbed her by the hips. Roughly he hiked up her skirt, pulling her back toward him. He reared up behind her, pulling her onto his lap as he reached boldly between her legs. His fingers stroked her wet, hot folds, and she let out a long wail of delight as he touched her. Helpless in the face of her bottomless hunger, she ground her ass into his crotch. He chuckled, very close to her ear.
"Want that?" he growled. "You want that in you?"
She made an inarticulate sound, trying to move herself more on his hand while grinding harder onto his cock. But he moved his hand away.
"You better answer me. Do you want me to fuck you?"
"Yes!" she cried.
"Tell me," he said.
"Fuck me!" she yelled. "Fuck me!"
He pulled off her sensible cotton panties with a satisfied grunt before lifting her onto his huge erection. She rode him hard, his hand rubbing her clit where it met his shaft. Waves of pleasure made her pussy clench hard around him, and she arched her back. Needing his hands on her, she pulled her blouse open for him. The buttons flew free with surprisingly little effort, and a surge of power filled her as she let out a cry of triumph. Trent's hands slid her bra straps down her shoulders, pushing the cups out of the way before he dug his fingers into her upturned tits.
"You like that?" he asked. "Hm?"
"Yesss," she hissed. She let her head drop back in abandon.
He slapped her thigh, hard. It made a razor-sharp crack in the hot darkness of the car. Startled, she straightened up, opening her eyes. The windshield in front of her was fogged over, but she could see herself in the rearview mirror. She could see her own wide eyes and their dilated pupils, and she was suddenly aware of every inch of Trent, buried very deep inside her. He spanked her thigh again, breaking her reverie.
"So fucking tight," he said. "Bend over and take it all like a good girl."
She obeyed him without a word. She could feel his flesh shifting positions deep within her and squealed with pleasure. His thighs forced her legs farther apart, and she tried without real conviction to close her legs around his, mostly to savor the sensation of his powerful body working in opposition to hers.
He would have none of it, though. "Spread your legs, girl. Bend over so I can fuck you."