BBC Patrol - Officer Ansley

Characters:

Ansley (based on Ansley Pacheco of Instagram)

Isabella (Based on Isa Buscemi of Instagram)

The two women stood in front of the processing station as they examined the recently boarded inmates. The wall separating them was a thick glass that offered complete view of the processing room. Some of the men sat on benches, while other meandered around.

"What do you think of them so far?" Isabella said as she stared straight ahead with her arms crossed.

Ansley focused, her eyes narrowing on the group of predominantly black men before them. "A few prospects, I think." She turned to Isabella on her left. "But you know how these things are. It's always impossible to tell how *big* they are."

Isabella smiled without meeting her eyes. "That's where the fun is, don't you think?"

"I guess you're right."

Carlito and Josh were inside with the men giving out instructions and paper work. A couple of nurses were doing the same, sometimes taking them to back rooms for medical examinations. The room became increasingly chaotic as more cops and administration staff entered the room.

"Still...there are usually signs," said Isabella. "Confidence is a good indicator. I see a couple that have it for sure. Especially..." her voiced trailed off. "Men like him." She pointed to a man flanked by a cop and staff nurse.

"Oooo..." Ansley cooed. "He *is* a specimen." She looked him over closely. He was tall and at least 6'3 in height by her estimation. Dark, ebony skin with a toothy white smile and close-cropped hair. "He's mine," she continued.

Isabella guffawed. "You are such a bitch, you know that?"

"I just know what I want," Ansley replied with a wry smile.

"Well, it looks like they're finishing up with him. I'd go in now. Basement docking 4, remember? I'll be just behind you."

"Going now, then. I'll see you in a bit."

Ansley made her way to the door separating the two rooms and began to input her PIN code. The door buzzed, indicating the unlocking mechanism.

"Oh, and Ansley?" Isabella called out.

Ansley turned to face her as she opened the door. "Yes?"

"I want a turn."

------

The female officer cut her way through the gaggle of officers, staff, and prisoners on her way to her target. Wendy, their chief, was orchestrating the chaotic ensemble of people. She met Ansley with a knowing smile and a slight head nod as the officer passed her.

Officer Jones was talking sternly to the man when she reached them. The officer was talking in raised, harsh voice, asking for corrections to the man's paperwork. He quieted and softened his tone when he noticed her standing beside them.

"Dan, Dan, Dan. Why so ornery today?" said Ansley. She flashed a smile at both of the men.

"I'm just...doing my job, officer Pacheco," he replied softly. "I didn't see you there." He gave her a warm smile.

Ansley was well aware of his crush on her--and every other--female officer at Seattle PD. Unfortunately for him, he was neither the color or demeanor that met her particular preference. She could not have been less attracted to him.

"Is his paperwork done?" Ansley asked him, looking deep into his eyes. She saw him melting under her gaze.

"Uhhh...basically, yes. He's leaving on the 2:45 bus."

"He's leaving at 4:00 now. Ask Chief if you have any questions. I'm going to take him to the holding station."

Dan gestured with his hands. "By all means, take him." He motioned around the room. "We have all these...people...to still deal with."

"That's what I was thinking, too. Come. Come with me." She put on a pair of handcuffs on the man and motioned him to follow her.

She led them out through a side door and into a hallway. The silence was deafening compared to the cacophony inside the processing room. The pair looked through a series of hallways and down several stairwells before coming to a locked door indicating "Docking Bay 4." She unlocked the door using her PIN and she ushered him inside and down the bare concrete stairs.

The basement bay was sparse and empty. Several vans were parked perpendicular to the large sliding doors on the far end of the bay. The air was cool and smelled faintly of mildew.

"I thought we were going to the holding station?" said the man, speaking his first words since they left processing.

"We are. Oh believe me, we are. This is an alternative route."

The man looked at her puzzedly. "I'm not sure I understand."

She smiled and approached him. The woman rummaged through her keys, and after finding the correct one, unlocked his handcuffs and attached them to her belt.

"Are you in a rush? I'm going to speak very clearly to you, *criminal*. You're going to Federal prison for murder. You'll be there awhile. Probably a long time." She stepped back, creating some distance between them. Her hands reached for her blouse, and she began to slowly unbutton starting from the top. She pulled it apart, revealing her large, generous breasts in a black bra.

It was the first good look the man had of her. She was Latina. Fit with an hourglass figure. Her hair was jet black and bound tightly in a bun behind her head. Her lips were full and inviting.

She stepped closer to him. He towered over her, and she found herself looking up to meet his eyes.

"I'm going to give you a final opportunity to have some pussy before we lock you away for a long time. Some good pussy," Ansley said.

He stared at her in disbelief. Pigs were not to be trusted, least of all by those whom interfered so gravely with the law.

"You want me to...fuck you?" asked the man.

She stepped closer, her chest nearly touching his stomach. "I want you to fuck me like you won't have a good fuck for years to come. I don't need to know your name. I don't even want to know it. I don't care." She reached for his crotch. His large, throbbing member was pressed prominently against his jumpsuit pants. A clear outline of the cock it contained was blatant.

She backed away again, turned, and headed towards a nearby wall. She finished doffing her blouse on the way over, and set it on a nearby workbench. Still facing away from him, she unclasped her bra and set it down on top of blouse. Then the woman hinged at the waist, pushing her ass towards him as she slid her trousers down to her ankles. A small, black thong did little to cover her generous ass.

The man stared, entranced. The sight of her exposed ass panged him with hunger. The sexual invitation of it. His thoughts raced as he realized she spoke the truth. This would be his final hour as a free man for a long time. She was right there. Taunting and enticing him with her perfect body. Warm, wet, and willing.

Ansley heard and felt him approaching. She turned to meet him, placing her back on the cold, unforgiving concrete wall. Her nipples were like diamonds in the cool air. A small draft wisped through the large, closed, warehouse doors.

The man gripped her by the breasts, cupping them softly but deliberately as he pushed her against the wall.

"Men never say no to me. I knew you would be no different. I spend hours and hours in the gym building the perfect body to fuck," she said mischievously as she reached she rubbed his large, muscular chest.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," the man growled. He slapped her lightly in the face before groping her breasts and hungrily sucking at them. His mouth moved from her tits to her toned stomach as he kissed and licked his way down to her black panties. They felt wet to the touch.

Then the man spun her around at the hips.

Ansley caught herself on the wall. She arched and pushed her ass back, playfully swaying it for him. She could feel the eagerness and anticipation in his fingers. The man was frantically tugging her panties down her legs. She lifted her feet and kicked them to the side. Her pussy was dripping; a conditioned response to the presence of a black cock about to fill her.

The man's tongue was first. She felt his hands spread her ass, and his tongue began to eagerly her asshole and pussy. She began to whimper softly. The combination of pleasure and frustration from the man witholding his cock from her. The urge to turn around and drop to her knees began to build. To debase herself by pleasuring a criminal on the floor of the docking bay. To taste his large chocolate cock and worship it with her mouth like it rightfully deserved. She wanted to take her time with it. Savoring the taste and length as he would surely use her throat with every inch he had. But to do so would delay the fucking she needed, and she was growing impatient, waiting.

They were ruthless. Black men fucked in a way that Ansley came to love; no other way interested her. No respect for her. She was nothing other a cocksleeve to use and cum with. A sex object that could be used and abused until they had their fill. But she knew this. She learned years ago in her college dorm that her purpose was to make black men feel good. Bringing them pleasure actualized her purpose.

And she was good at it.

"I'm gonna fuck that snowbunny pussy until I nut, and I'm not pulling out," the man said into her ear. He wrapped his arms around her chest and pushed her flush against the cold concrete wall. He wasn't gentle. His hard, erect member lay against the woman's ass, running up the small of her back.

"Good. I only make white men pull out," she said, biting her lip.

The man laughed heartily before reaching around and smacking her ass. "Sounds like someone wants a black baby in them."

"That what you're going to do, daddy? Knock me up before we put your ass in prison? Make me a single mom?" Ansley said. She was grinding her ass and hips back against his throbbing hard cock.

"I plan on it."

"Fucking breed me, then. I'm ovulating, you fucker."

The man inserted the entirety of his length inside the wet, tight pussy. He let out a primal growl as the feeling of her pussy clamped softly and tightly around his cock. The bitch was tight.

Ansley's eyes rolled back as he entered. Her pussy ached and stretched as he split her open, pushing past her cervix. The size and rigidity of his cock took her by surprise. She shuddered and her chested heaved in an involuntary response to him entering.

The man begun to pump the petite Latina's pussy like a piston, drawing her close and squeezing her tits as he relentlessly pumped. He fucked like an animal. An animal with singular purpose and desire: to breed pussy.

"You like that, you fucking pig" the man growled. He reached around her neck, drawing her closer, and began to pump harder and faster inside her.

The sound of a door opening and closing was made, but it fell on deaf ears of the two inside the bay. The sound of flesh on flesh and his grunting and her whimpering deafened them to the outside world.

She was fulfilling her purpose. She knew this--understood this. An instrument of pleasure for strong, black bulls. Acceptance of her inferiority to black men. It had always been like this, and it should always be like this.

Her eyes narrowed as she found another orgasm, and her legs shook and trembled as they weakened under his onslaught. She lost focus on everything else other than the fucking she was receiving from the stud. There was chatter and movement to her left. They were close. But her visioned blurred and her ears dulled as another orgasm took her. She focused on her breathing to avoid losing consciousness.

More sounds. The clinging of a belt hitting the floor. Clothes being sloughed off. Kissing. Then, shuffling of the and movement. A body being pushed against the wall.

Ansley turned to her left in time to see Isabella's face, now just inches from her own, and met her with a deep kiss. Their tongues danced inside one another mouthes. Their bodies were side by side, pressed against the cold wall. The kissing was interrupted when Isabella's head suddenly jerked. Ansley turned her head to the side, straining and painfully because of the man fucking her relentlessly, and saw that the man Isabella brought down was now deep inside her.

Their eyes met at some point, each with their face mashed against the cold, hard wall; bodies shaking and palpating as they received their thrusts. There were tears in their eyes. The pain of being stretched beyond their normal capacity. Muscles aching and crying out for relief. There was, however, also ecstasy in those eyes.

Fulfillment.

Purpose.

The women lost track of time and orgasms. They were sore, tired, and satisfied, but the men were unrelenting. A bystander would have seen two muscular black men pinning two light skinned latina women against the wall. They would have seen both women arching their backs, further accentuating their perfectly toned, large asses. They would have seen the beautiful contrast of the men's dark skin against the pale skin of the women, their bodies grinding together and large cocks being swallowed by the women's eager holes. And they would have seen the men switch places as they took turns on each pussy.

A bystander would have heard things, as well. Whimpering, grunting, crying in pleasure, the thwapping of balls on flesh, and wet pussies being stuffed. They would have heard the two women saying vile shit to the men: demeaning them, goading them to go harder, begging for impregnation.

They would have heard the men finally cry out as they came.