Valentine's Day Speed Trap

I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw the blue lights flashing as the police car was gaining on me. Another glance, this time to the clock on the dashboard confirmed that it was just after 1:00 a.m. I knew I was driving about 55 miles per hour and that I had just driven through Buckingham, Virginia, completely ignoring the fact that the speed limit had dropped to 35 for the two or three blocks that made up the small town so I began to look for a place to pull over.

Just ahead, still on Highway 60, I spotted a place called Duck's Corner. I pulled into the dark parking lot and noticed that it was a convenience store, although it was currently closed. Shortly after I had pulled into the lot, the police car followed and stopped behind me.

I watched as the officer got out of his vehicle and walked towards the side of my car. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and his walk and build gave the impression that he was, or more likely, had been an athlete. There was the beginning of a beer gut forming that indicated that he wasn't currently in top form. Regardless, he wasn't too bad, and he met the description of the cop that my sister had told me about. She only lived a couple of towns over.

I rolled the window down in my BMW and preemptively asked, "Is there a problem, officer?"

"I'll need your license and registration, ma'am," he replied quickly.

"Sure, but what for, officer?" I sweetly answered as I picked my purse up and began digging through it, "I know I was driving 55."

"Speed limit in town is 35, miss," he answered. "And, you're missing your license plate."

"Oh, no, officer," I turned directly toward him, "I can't get a speeding ticket, please, this is a company car, and I could lose my job if I get a ticket."

At this point he glanced down toward my chest and I inwardly smiled. I was in a simple but elegant black dress with a light linen jacket which, from his view above me, would highlight my C cups. If he bothered to look lower, he would see my black stockings and heels since the dress only went down to mid-thigh.

I was quiet as I knew that my talking would only distract him from his view, so I remained still and did not speak. I did glance at his name badge, "M. Porter" it read.

"Yes," I thought to myself, "This is the guy that my sister told me about."

I tried to appear as innocently as I could and continued gazing into his eyes when he finally looked back up. "Please, no," I repeated, "I just had a horrible Valentine's dinner, broke up with my boyfriend and just want to get home to Charlottesville. Please, this night just can't get any worse."

I was watching his face with my pleading eyes, and I very slowly, and what appeared to be nervously, gently bit my lower lip, drawing his attention to my mouth.

'I'd be very, very grateful if we could let this go with a warning," I said in a soft, yet forceful voice.

"Well, you were going 20 miles over the speed limit," he answered.

"But I was driving on the highway, I didn't see it drop," I reminded him.

"And no license plate..." he began.

I interrupted, "I know it looks like I'm a felon or something, but my license plate was just stolen a few days ago. I've already reported it; I'm just waiting on the new one. You can check that."

"Please, this is my job on the line," I added almost tearfully.

"Miss, you've broken some serious laws," he spoke authoritatively, "And I don't want to see it happen again."

"Please, no, it won't," I replied submissively and nodded my head down.

"But I'm not sure a ticket will be needed," he said.

I looked up at him gratefully, "Oh, thank you, sir, thank you, I really am grateful; I won't forget this."

"Tell you what," he said, "You said you're headed to Charlottesville, but this isn't really the best way. Come back to my car and I'll show you on the map where to go; I'll even show you where the other speed traps are, so you won't have any more trouble."

Ignoring that I had just heard about the worst pick up line ever, I smiled enthusiastically, agreed and opened my car door to get out.

Acting like a gentleman, he let me walk first. I knew it was an act; he just wanted the view, but I couldn't fault him, after all, I was doing a lot of acting here too.

On the way to the car, he told me to get in the passenger side, which I did while he got in the driver's seat.

He pulled down an old Atlas from above his sun visor, and held it between us. I feigned interest on the page, as I could feel checking me out. I knew my hair and makeup were fine, as I had adjusted them just before entering the town, but most importantly, I knew that he was noticing my perfume for the first time.

I looked up from the map, gave a soft smile and asked an innocent question, "Do you mind if I take my jacket off? I'm a bit warm."

He agreed so I began unbuttoning the jacket, fingering each button very delicately. His attention never wandered, as his eyes followed my hand all the way down. When I was done I removed the jacket; I now sat there just a few inches away in a sexy evening gown smiling at him.

He clumsily leaned over for a kiss. I let his lips meet mine and even allowed his tongue a slight bit of penetration before easing away.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," I whispered. "We just met after all."

I was careful not to say "No." I wanted to send the message that I just needed more convincing, not a halt in his plans. I kept my hands on his arms from my push back but was gently rubbing them, encouraging him to stay put and keep trying.

"It'll be okay," he said, and he leaned back over trying to meet my lips.

"God, if this is the average seduction in Buckingham, I feel for the women living here," I thought to myself.

I allowed him to come within an inch or so of my lips and whispered, "Do you really think so?"

I now had a hand on the side of his face gently stroking his cheek and hair.

"Of course, I'm the law around here, and I let you out of the ticket, so..." he said.

"I owe you?" I finished his sentence and raised an eyebrow to indicate that it was a question.

"Well, yes," he answered sheepishly.

I let our lips meet, softly at first, then harder, letting him lead the action. I was rubbing his body while deflecting his hands from anything other than feeling my boobs through my dress. While he was focused on trying to reach my tits, I was able to unbutton his shirt, and I began to playfully stroke his bare skin and tease his nipples.

I finally allowed the straps of my dress to slide off of my shoulders and the front of my dress fell leaving my boobs exposed but still in a black bra.

While he was busy trying to unfasten the back of my bra, I began kissing his ear and letting my tongue tease it. I moved down and started lightly kissing and nuzzling his neck with lots of gentle kisses and a little sucking. As I kept moving down I pushed his shirt all the way down, then pulled each arm out of its sleeve and tossed his shirt on the dashboard.

I acted like I was shifting to pull him on top of me but I jammed his arm into the police radio attached to the dash.

"Ouch," he exclaimed. He looked at me and confirmed that I was trying to move underneath him and leaned back down.

This time I slammed my knee into the radio. "Mmmm," I moaned as though I was in real pain.

Finally, he unfastened my bra and could begin rubbing my bare tits. As he did, I began stroking his cock through his pants. As he began humping, I nudged his head to one of my tits and let him begin sucking and licking.

Fairly quickly I sensed his humping was falling into a rhythm that could quickly end this if I wasn't careful.

I held his body tight, seemingly out of passion but really just to slow his humping down, ending his chance at a quick orgasm.

I stopped him completely and said, "I hate to stop, but I've just got to."

"What?" he grimaced, "Now?"

"Oh, I really don't want to, this is just too cramped; I'm loving this, but I'm in pain," I explained, glancing at the protruding radio console.

"But we're almost done," he whined.

Resisting the urge to correct the "We're," by saying, "you mean, you're almost done," I kissed him and eased one of his hands to my thigh so he could feel silk stockings, lace top and soft flesh that awaited him.

As his hand patrolled the area I pulled back again, and repeated that I was sorry I had really tried but that it just hurt too much.

He looked down and saw that my dress might as well have been off, as it was now bunched into a tiny bundle around my waist. He could see my tight abs, ample boobs and tantalizing thigh highs. The lust in his eyes was obvious.

"I would say let's get in the back of my BMW," I said, with emphasis on the word "Back" trying to put the obvious thought in his head, "But I'm afraid it's even smaller than here."

"Hey, we'll get in the back here," he exclaimed as though he was a genius, "It's huge back there."

He watched me anxiously hoping for agreement as I pretended to consider this novel idea.

"Sure," I answered with a mischievous grin, "On one condition though."

"Anything," he answered immediately.

"Just take your wedding ring off please," I calmly said. "I just noticed it, and it makes me feel cheap."

"Easy, easy," he said as he pulled it off and tossed it into the console next to his seat, "Done, now let's go."

He got out of his side of the car, at this point wearing nothing but his shoes, socks and pants, and I got out, wearing a wrinkled dress, thigh highs, and heels. I removed my heels and left them in the front while he opened the back door.

He held it open for me, but I shook my head and smiled. He looked puzzled so I put my chest against his and began kissing.

"That back seat is perfect," I whispered, "I pushed him down into the seat and crawled on top of him, "I can be much more fun on top."

"That's great, just don't shut the door all the way; you can't open it from the inside," he told me. With that I pulled the dress up over my head and tossed it back out the door.

I pushed him down almost fully on his back and placed myself on top so that I could lick his chest and nipples. Very soon I was unfastening his belt, then unbuttoning his pants and undoing his zipper. I shimmied down a bit so that my licks and kisses were just above his boxers, and I took a firm hold of his cock and began slowly pumping.

"Oh my God, it's so big, so hard," I softly said, then I exaggerated. "This is the biggest I've ever seen."

I removed my hand from his shaft, and he made a couple of empty thrusts into the air before opening his eyes to see what I was doing it.

My eyes met his, and I licked my lips and said, "I've got to get that in my mouth."

He raised his ass, allowing me to pull his pants and boxers down, and I began licking his cock. I began on the underside, tracing it straight from his balls to the tip with one torturous lick; he moaned so I did it again; this time taking just the tip fully into my mouth upon completion. He attempted a thrust or two, but I was able to avoid them by being on top by simply moving around a little. After a few more tongue teases, I took the whole thing in and swirled my tongue around the shaft. I glanced at his face and noted that he was just there, eyes closed and a big grin on his face. I moved my lips up and down his cock as I finished pushing his boxers and pants completely off by pushing them down with my foot.

I now had him totally nude in the back of his car so I began a blow job.

I gave a pretty quick one, and he was spurting very quickly. I removed my mouth and continued the stroking. I kept pumping until he was drained.

When he was finished, I admired my work for a brief moment. He was just there, on his back, eyes closed with a big grin.

I jumped up, backed out of the car and slammed the door.

He jumped practically as soon as I had, and it was much closer than I thought it would be.

He was pounding the window and yelling. I just smiled and watched him as I put my dress back on.

I then opened the front door of the car and retrieved my shoes.

He was now begging, "Please let me out; what's wrong?"

I just smiled and watched him as I raised my dress and pulled my lace panties off.

"What are you doing? What's going on?" he asked. He was totally confused.

"Shh, baby," I comforted him. "Be quiet and I'll explain everything or keep yelling at me and I'll just go drive away. You're choice."

He went silent and was staring through the screen between the front and back seats. He really looked like a little boy who had no idea why he was in trouble.

"That's a good boy," I cooed, "Just stay like that and I'll explain everything, baby, ok?"

He nodded and I said, "Ok."

I ripped my panties in the middle as he watched, then rubbed them around my arms and throat.

"See, baby, that was me rubbing my poor, ripped panties all over the places that your semen just shot. Now, they're pretty soaked." I explained.

"But, why?" he asked, still confused.

"Shh," I ignored the question. I tossed the panties on the floorboard of the car.

I finished getting dressed, but I left my bra off, ripped its clasp and tossed it next to the panties.

"See," I finally said to him, "I know you pull girls over and let them go for hand jobs, blow jobs or sex. You unfortunately did this to a friend of mine." (There was no need for him to know it was her sister; that could make it possible to track her down)

"So I'll be leaving you here, and you'll learn a lesson and not so this anymore," I finished.

"But I might get fired," he said.

"Quite likely, I would think," I agreed. "At the very least you'll have trouble explaining why a bra and some panties have been attacked and have your semen on them. And why you're naked in the back of your own police car."

Realizing his plight, he went on the offensive, I'll find you and get you, you bitch," he exclaimed.

I laughed at him which made him fume, "You're funny; let me remind you of a few things. One, you don't even know my name; I never showed you my license. Two, you have no plates because I removed them just before entering town. Three, you don't even know if that's my car, a rental car, a borrowed car or a stolen car. Four, I don't live in Charlottrevikke And, five, you're about to have much bigger things to worry about than finding me."

I pulled a cell phone out of his pants that were now in the front seat and dialed a number, "Hello, can you connect me to the Charlottesville Daily Progress newspaper please. Thank you."

He finally began to look dejected as he heard her tell the reporter on duty to get a reporter and photographer to Duck's Corner; as I described a scene of women being chased around the parking lot by an officer.

I hung up and said, "See, the whole county will know before you're rescued."

He just looked down.

"But I'm not done," I cheerfully exclaimed. "The reporters won't get here for at least 30-45 minutes, and I wouldn't want you to get bored."

I turned the car on and turned the air conditioning on full blast.

"What are you doing? It's only about 60 degrees tonight," he asked.

"I just think it'll be that much more embarrassing if you're really cold when you're found," I replied. "Now just one more call, and I'm out of here, honey."

I began scrolling through his cell phone, suddenly stopping; I winked at him, thanked him for labeling a contact 'home' and pressed send.

"No," he screamed in vain.

"Hello," he heard me say and knew his wife was on the other end of the line; he continued listening helplessly, "Mrs. Porter, I'm terribly sorry to wake you, but there is a situation involving your husband. (pause) No, no, nothing like that. He's fine, health wise. I just wanted to alert you to a situation. You see, he pulled me over and asked me into his car, and then forced himself on me. (pause) You don't have to believe me; there is proof. He's trapped in his patrol car naked. Yes, I said naked. I made a run for it and escaped. Get down to Duck's Corner and see for yourself. And, since he's apparently not happy in his marriage, I'm guessing that you may not be either. If you're not, bring a camera or lawyer or investigator with you. There's enough here for you to get whatever terms you want if you decide to divorce him."

I ended the call and looked in the back of the car at the defeated, naked man. "I'm done," I said, then added, "You know I should tell you, there was no Valentine's date for me. This was all for you. I just waited until Valentine's so this dress would be believable. So, you're kind of my Valentine this year; happy Valentine's Day."

I closed the car door after locking it, walked to her car and drove away.

I knew that he was already beginning to freeze as he sat there waiting for everyone to arrive.