Yes Officer Ch. 01bypeachykeen©
Chapter 01: Moving Violation
"Sing it back, bring it back, sing it back to me!" Both front windows were open and my hair tangled around my face in the breeze as I drove down the empty back road, singing loudly as I pleased along with the radio. I was felling giddy and lighthearted, having just had a lively night out clubbing with a handful of my best girlfriends, dancing, flirting, laughing, celebrating my old roommate Diana's first night out with the gang since she had had her baby. As a designated driver I had steered clear of the booze, but the heady mix of a trip into the city, loud thumping music, sweating sexy dancers, and the good company of fine friends had been intoxicating enough to have me behaving a bit carelessly as I drove, exceeding the posted speed limit by probably a good ten miles per hour. But it was after 2 am, it's an old deserted logging road through the middle of the woods, who would care? I thought as I sang and bounced in my seat.
I suppose I should not have been so very surprised to see the red and blue flashing lights come up in the rearview mirror, seemingly out of nowhere in the blackness of the night. "Well, shiiiiiiit," I groaned aloud to myself, easing the car over to the side. As I waited for the officer to approach I snuck a quick glance at my face in the mirror: I had been in fine flirting form earlier in the evening, was dressed just sluttily enough to be appealing without looking like a hooker, and I was hoping maybe acting a bit cute and girly might just help me get out of this situation with a warning instead of a ticket. Hey, can't blame a girl for trying.
"May I see your license and registration please ma'am."
I turned to the window and looked up. And up. My, my, was he tall. And fit. And fine. He was massive, but not big and beefy, just tall and solid and put tight together. His eyes were the color of a glacier, and his expression just as cool. The way the headlights from his patrol car illuminated his finely chiseled face in profile added to his tangible aura of power and authority. I am not the sort of female who goes weak in the knees at the sight of any man in a uniform, but the way he filled his made me squirm a bit in my seat. 'This,' I thought to myself, 'is the sexiest man I have seen all night, and tonight, I have seen many.'
"Of course," I answered, flashing my best why-hello-there-handsome smile, feeling on the passenger seat for my handbag, not finding it. I looked on the floor and in the back, slowly realizing I must have left it at Diana's house when I dropped her off and went in to coo over the sleeping baby. Oh, no. "I'm so sorry, Officer, I must have just left my bag at my friend's house just before," I smiled again nervously.
I watched as his eyes traveled down from my face to my well-displayed cleavage, then back to meet mine, his expression unchanging. He folded his arms across his chest and I silently admired his biceps bulging against the confines of his shirtsleeves. "So what you're telling me is you have no license," he said firmly.
"No. I mean, I do, it's just – I was just at –"
"Step out of the vehicle please ma'am."
I took a deep breath. I have never had any problems with the law before and had a clean driving record. I wondered how much trouble I could be in now as I slowly opened the door. As I stepped one foot out, I knew he was able to get a good quick view of my underpants as my thighs parted under my short skirt. I rose and straightened it self-consciously, my cool sexy-chick persona shaken by the realization that I might actually not be able to flirt my way out of this one. His unflappable demeanor seemed to indicate he would have none of such nonsense. This, although it unnerved me, only made him seem that much more desirable. Damn.
He pointed towards his patrol car. "Would you walk to the front of my car, please."
It occurred to me he must think I had been drinking. "I wasn't drinking sir, I was the designated driver, I'll be happy to take a breathalyzer," I offered hopefully.
"Just walk." A short, sharp order.
I complied. Despite my sobriety, my knees felt weak and I was afraid I would stumble as I carefully made my way to his car. Reaching it, successfully I hoped, I turned back to face him.
He walked over to stand in front of me in a few long, confident strides. I felt my heart begin to race and held my breath, noticing again how utterly gorgeous he was. My feelings were a pounding jumble of fear, lust, confusion, and excitement, and there was an undeniable stirring in my groin. "Am I going to be arrested?" I asked him, my voice trembling.
He continued just staring at me, said nothing. I was paralyzed. His eyes moved over my body and I could feel myself growing warm and wet between my legs. I shivered. The warm late spring air of the evening had become slightly chilly as the night had taken over, but I knew it was not just the cold that had made me shake a bit.
Finally he spoke. "Pull your skirt up to your waist."
My jaw dropped and I tried to vocalize a protest, but none came out. He fixed me with a sharp look. After a moment I closed my mouth, and complied.
"Remove your underpants."
My head swam. On one hand, I knew there was so many things fundamentally not right with this situation. It was so beyond anything I'd ever had happen to me before, not to mention unbelievably outside the law. I knew he had no right to do this and to some extent feared what he could do to me if I refused – all the power was his at this moment. Also, even though this old road was almost never used by anyone except the tiny handful of residents at its far end, we were undeniably exposed in the unlikely event any cars did come by. However, I recognized that I actually had no wish to disobey his orders, and that I was wetter and more turned on at this moment than I could ever remember. The thought of being forced to reveal myself to this magnificent, omnipotent stranger, the ever-so-tiny possibility of being happened upon by one of my neighbors…
I slid the satiny material down my bare legs and slipped it over my sandals. He took the panties out of my shaking hand and stuffed them into his breast pocket. "Now spread your legs a bit," he commanded.
I did as told and bit my lip as I watched him pull his nightstick from his belt. I confess my heart jumped, wondering if I'd made a very bad choice indeed – surely he was not going to hit me? I sucked in a deep breath, tasting the clean piney air. It seemed as though everything was in slow motion as he moved it towards me, as though I was watching a scene in a film. Slowly, teasingly, he began to rub the tip of it back and forth through my slickened pussy lips – the sensations suddenly, shockingly real - then eased about two inches of it inside of me. I cried out and felt for the car behind me to steady myself as my knees buckled, forcing it further up into my cunt. A faint flicker of a smile crossed his face for just a second, and then his emotionless expression returned. I moaned and leaned further back on the car as he worked the club in and out of me, surprisingly gently, pushing in, twisting it, pulling it out again. I could hear my sharp cries echoing off the trees in the otherwise silent night.
After a few minutes he pulled it out of me completely and pulled me back up by grabbing my blouse in his huge, strong hand. He held the stick, shining with my juice, in front of my face. "Suck it clean," he ordered. I opened my mouth and took it in, tasting my warm oceany sweetness. I watched his face as I sucked and licked the stick. He held my gaze confidently as he replaced it into his belt.
Suddenly, before I could know it was happening, he had slapped the metal cuffs on both my wrists, spun me around, and pushed me roughly face down on the hood of the car. I panicked for a moment at my complete helplessness, "No! No!" I struggled vainly to stand and kicked one leg behind me into empty air. "Please, I'm sorry, no!"
He leaned over me, his entire body covering mine. I was terrified and thrilled at how totally engulfed I felt under his bulk. "Ssssssshhhhh," he growled softly, not unkindly, his lips at my ear. He stroked my hair and I felt his breath on the side of my face, warm and moist. "Sshh," he repeated. It was oddly comforting, his voice so close, his weight above me, although surely I was still just as powerless. I gulped and concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths to calm myself. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my ass through his trousers. It felt very good, laying there underneath him, that hardness straining through the material against my cheek. Safe, even.
I let my breath out in a long, low sigh. "Okay," I said in a small voice.
I could feel more than see him nod his head, and he stood behind me again. The hood of the car was warm from the engine beneath me, and the breeze cool across my exposed backside as I heard him unzipping his trousers. My cunt muscles twitched in anticipation. My few moments of terror had ebbed into an agonizing longing to feel his hard length inside of me. Although I'm sure it was only seconds, it seemed ages before I felt the head of his cock pressing against my slit. He left it there for a few more seconds, an exquisite torture. In my position I had no leverage to push back against him, to take what I wanted. My muscles continued to clench and release, trying to pull at his cock, trying to pull him into me and I heard my own voice moaning softly, "Please, please."
I am not sure but I thought I heard him give a low chuckle, just before he suddenly rammed the full length of his shaft into me in one stroke, my wetness offering him no resistance. As his hips slammed against my ass, the metal from the cuffs dug into the flesh of my wrists, which were trapped between my groin and the edge of the hood of the car. "Oh, god!" I screamed, lost in an explosion of equal parts pain and pleasure. He pulled slowly back out, all the way, then slammed hard into me again. My eyes watered and he began stroking powerfully in and out of me, practically lifting my feet off the ground with each masterful thrust.
Each stroke was a symphony of sensation – that fantastic feeling of my cunt being filled with a hot, hard cock; the metal biting into my soft skin; my breasts pressed hard against the hood of the car; his massive hands gripping my hips tightly, the fingers digging into my flesh; the sound of his deep grunts mixing in with my own chokes and sobs. I discovered that the middle finger of one of my trapped hands could just barely graze my clit and I began to flick at that sensitive button frantically as he pumped in and out of my pussy. The ecstasy outpaced the agony and I felt my whole body beginning to flush with a liquid heat.
My face was slick with tears against the smooth hood of the car as my thighs began quivering uncontrollably. "Oooohhh, Officer, I'm going to cummm…" I moaned, feeling my cunt pulsating around that fantastic hot cock. He said nothing in reply, only grasped my hips tighter in his hands and thrust even harder into me and then held himself deep inside me, sending me over the brink. Electric white-hot waves seemed to ripple through my body, emanating from that point deep in my groin where I could feel the tip of his cock pressed against my cervix. I shuddered and squirmed as I came, howling like a wolf under the stars in the darkness of the woods, my body feeling simultaneously intense and alive, yet melted and soft as the waves crashed and flowed through me, the sound of blood rushing in my ears.
Just as my own orgasm began to subside he began to pump roughly in and out again, my dripping cunt still clutching at his swollen cock. I heard him groan loudly and felt his rod give a sudden twitch and jerk inside me. He pulled out and gasped and I felt the warm gobs of his cum spurting onto my ass, some of it starting to drip down into the crack. I lifted my head as much as I could to try to see and could turn just enough to watch his face, his gorgeous face, contorted with the force of his orgasm as the last of his cum splashed out onto my cheeks. Through his hands on my hips I could feel his body shuddering and I heard him gulping at the cool night air. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against the metal below me, while he rested his sticky cock between my ass cheeks.
After a moment he stepped back and I heard him rezipping his trousers, then felt him rubbing a piece of fabric over my ass, mopping up the puddles of gooey, pearly cum. He grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me sharply back to my feet, my legs still very wobbly. "Open," he commanded, his face inches from mine. Of course I did as told and he stuffed my cum-covered panties into my mouth. The earthy, salty taste filled my nose and throat as I held his eyes with mine and we stood there for a second, until my shaking legs started to give again.
He let go of my hair and caught me around the waist with his arm, then walked me back slowly to my car, supporting my weight against him. Leaning me back against the door, he pulled the soaking panties from my mouth and crouched in front of me, lifting one of my feet and then the other, and then slowly slid the wet material back up my legs as
he stood. I watched him in something of a daze as he straightened my skirt and blouse, and was further amazed when he took out a tissue from one of his trouser pockets and began to dab it at my face around the eyes. I must have looked a fright, make-up everywhere, I'm sure, but the way he cleaned me up was so oddly tender and affectionate, considering the circumstances. I could only stare at him, although the expression he returned had resumed its inscrutable blankness.
When he had finished wiping the mascara streaks from my face, he gently removed the cuffs and held both my hands in one of his own as he replaced the steel rings on his belt with the other. As softly as one would caress an infant, he massaged my sore wrists one at a time between his huge palms. I stood stunned. Was this the same man who had only a short time before thrown me like a rag doll across the hood of a patrol car? I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't think of what. It didn't matter, as he shook his head and put a finger to my lips. For the first time, he smiled unmistakably, a slow, satisfied grin that crept across his face like a cat.
"I want you to listen to me carefully," he said, quietly but firmly. I nodded. He continued, "You are going to get in your car and take a minute to get yourself together. Then you are going to continue on your journey. You are on your way home, I presume?"
I nodded again. "I live at the end of this road, near the junction with 55." My voice was a rustling whisper, like leaves in a breeze. For the first time I noticed the name pinned to his uniform. Sgt. D Powell.
"Good." He opened the door of the car and helped me lower myself in. "I am going to follow you to make sure you get there safely. Then I will turn back. You will tell no one about what happened here tonight. Understood?"
After I was in he turned way without waiting to hear my answer. I watched him in the side mirror as he walked back to his vehicle, a striking silhouette in the glare of the headlights. I rubbed my wrists thoughtfully as I gathered my thoughts, tried to fit Sgt. D Powell and what had just happened into my concept of reality. This is not a big town, how could I not have seen him before? Then again, I had almost no occasion to deal with the police. Surely he had taken a bigger risk than I in this situation, when all was said and done. I wondered if I would ever be able to drive down my old road again without secretly hoping to be pulled over.
* * * * *
I'm still wondering. I saw him again, about three days later, as the bruises on my wrists had faded to a light bluish-yellow. He and another cop were coming out of the 7-11 as I was going in. I caught my breath at the sight of him. He held the door for me and winked, smiling for just a half second, then resumed his conversation with the other cop and walked out. I rubbed my wrists subconsciously and watched him go, sighing. I have got to learn to drive less carefully.