tagNonConsent/ReluctanceCatching Stephanie Red-Handed

Catching Stephanie Red-Handed


I was raised to respect the police. My parents told me they are there to serve and protect, to look out for the good guys and get rid of the bad. Police have a dangerous, difficult job. They often put their lives on the line, and I was told early on to listen when they spoke.

Fact is, the majority of police are upstanding members of society, but there are some that put themselves before the safety or rights of others. As the song says, one bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch, girl.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, way ahead.

I would say I’m just a normal guy, with a decent paying job, a loving wife and two adorable kids. Summers we take a week at the beach, and in winter there is a ski lodge which has caught our fancy. Once a week my wife and I make love, and predictably there’s a little more lovemaking on birthdays and anniversaries.

As a supervisor at the local substance testing facility, I've met a number of lawyers that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. There are some who are actually great guys, and Sean Walsh is one of them. He is one of the best lawyers I've worked with during my 15-plus years at Jasnof Pharmaceuticals.

Sean has been defending the good and bad of Cape May County, New Jersey, for eight years. A 30-something Irishman, he’s defended everyone from hookers to senators, embezzlers to wife beaters, most with the same devotion. He won some cases, lost others, but always remembered where he came from. He did pro bono work, coached his son’s baseball team, and was rumored to have a run for Congress in November. Some didn’t like him, saying he got criminals off, while a small number of clients held a grudge because they thought he should have gotten them out of the strong arm of the law with trickery or deceit.

He is married to Stephanie, a demure yet sexy woman of 29, the mother of Sean’s only child. The lovely couple regularly dined at our house, and I couldn’t say I hadn’t lusted after Steph on more than one occasion. But it was look, not touch, of course, as I would never stray away from the marital bed and surely neither would she. Besides, I couldn’t hold a candle to Sean’s looks.

Still, in my own fantasyland, Stephanie has wrapped her long tanned legs around me more than once. She was up there with Madonna, Britney, Julia and Jill-from-the-office as objects of my fantasies. I undressed her in my mind, dressed her up in outfits, watched her masturbating, you name it.

On a Friday night in March I ran into Stephanie at the Ocean Drive Club, a local hangout south of Ocean City. She was leaving the women’s room while I was heading for the men’s room, an unlikely place for a conversation.

“Jon!” she said with a smile and a slight slur to her voice. “How are you? How are Deena and the kids?”

I smiled back at the stunning woman, dressed in a tight tee top and light blue miniskirt. “They’re great. They left this afternoon for Shippensburg. Visiting her mom for the weekend. You here with Sean?"

"Nope! Girl's night out," she giggled. "My friends and I are just out having some fun. I'd ask you to join us, but..."

“No, no, no,” I cut her off. “I’m just going to grab a bite and watch the Sixers. Besides, I don’t look good in a dress.”

Stephanie laughed, waved me away and headed back to the bar. I watched her waltz away with a smile on my face and a woody in my pants.

I hunkered up to the bar and sat down in a primo position across from the wide screen television set. A salad, chicken parm dinner and slice of apple pie later, I nursed several glasses of sparkling water while I watched the game.

Around 10 I decided to leave, and pulled together my belongings for the ride home. As I left the bar I spied Stephanie in the parking lot, fumbling with her car keys, obviously inebriated.

“Hey Steph, need a lift?”

“What? Oha hish Jonn,” she slurred, dropping her keys to the ground.

I watched as she attempted to pick up the keys, a long-legged woman in distress. I asked again if I could give her a lift, but she stammered something about being fine and in control.

She was anything but, and I just couldn’t leave her on her own. It would be dangerous for her to drive, and I would never forgive myself if something bad happened to my best friend’s wife.

“Seriously, I would be happy to drive you home Stephanie. Hop into my car,” I cajoled to no avail.

She defiantly shook her head, saying no while leaning against her car. “I’m okay, but I’ll give you a ridey if you likey.”

Stephanie was blitzed. I was not. But against my better judgment, I agreed to let her drive, figuring that if she was having trouble negotiating the road we could easily pull over and switch seats.

What a mistake that decision turned out to be.

I poured Stephanie into the car then made my way to the passenger seat, wondering all the while about the wisdom of letting her take the wheel. It only took a few minutes for her to start the car, pull out onto Route 9, and then begin a slow weave down the street for about a half mile. As luck would have it, flashing lights accompanied by a siren stunned her to a bit of soberness. “Oh shit,” Stephanie muttered.


“Take a deep breath and let me do the talking,” I instructed rolling down the window to get fresh air into the car.

I watched as the tall police officer slowly approached the vehicle.

“Driver’s license and registration m'am,” he firmly said.

“Yesh her,” she replied, bringing a frown to the officer's face.

Somehow she pulled out the information and handed it to the officer. I could swear he was leering at the woman, shaking his head.

A few minutes later, after checking her information, the officer came back to the car. “Have you been drinking, Mrs. Walsh?” he asked. “Just a couple drinks, occifer,” she slurred while I rose my eyes to the ceiling and shook my head. I thought to myself, "she’s dead meat."

The policeman asked her to get out of the car and gave her a couple tests before quickly assessing she was under the influence. He cuffed her hands behind her back before tucking the now crying woman in the back of his squad car.

I had visions of the local newspaper running some stupid profile photo of Stephanie along with an article of the girl’s arrest, and I saw Sean’s hope of a political career going up in smoke.

“Officer, this is really my fault, I should have been driving,” I said to the policeman, coming to Stephanie’s defense. “I was just trying to show her she wasn’t really able to drive. I was asking her to pull over here on this safe area of the road to change places with her. Surely there must be a way you can take that into consideration. Couldn’t you give her a break? I can vouch for her, and I can get her home safely.”

The man gave me a look up and down, and then a sly smile crept to his lips. He thought for a minute, looked into the back of the squad car at Stephanie, then back at me.

“Well, I don’t know. I mean, she was obviously driving impaired, and she is a menace and danger to society. It wouldn’t be right to just let her off.”

“What would it take to, uh, help the situation?” I asked.

“Depends on how friendly you two are…I mean, I have needs, and wouldn’t mind you two…satisfying them.”

“You mean….me and Stephanie?”

He shook his head affirmative. I couldn’t believe my ears.

There are times even the wisest, smartest man is tempted beyond belief. Once, for instance, I glanced out my window and noticed my sister sunbathing without her top on, believing she was out of the roving eyes of anyone in the neighborhood. I knew I shouldn’t look, but I did. Wise and smart I am not, and temptation of this magnitude is undeniable.

“I don’t know if she’d go for it, but I’m game,” I said, thinking more with my dick than my brain.

He walked back to the cruiser and opened the door. I slipped into the back seat beside Stephanie, who was looking at me with wide, fearful eyes. She had slumped against the door, gently sobbing. Sean would hate her if he found out about the predicament she was in.

“Jon, it would kill Sean if he finds out about this, isn’t there anything we can do about this?” she asked, suddenly appearing sober.

I told her the officer seemed to be a little bit agreeable toward discussing the situation, but probably would need some special encouragement. She leaned back and began crying again, wondering aloud what encouragement would be required. She thought of her husband’s career, the humiliation of her being pointed out as a drunk, the embarrassment her arrest would cause her family.

Officer Jones pulled away and drove us down the road for a while before turning off onto a dirt road. He proceeded down the bumpy path into the pinelands for a bit before pulling to a stop. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but I knew we needed to do something to ensure Stephanie’s predicament was never known by anyone but the three of us.

I patted Steph’s back, told her everything would be all right, and pulled back a bit when the door opened. There was Officer Jones, his trousers and boxers at his ankles, his engorged cock pointing straight up.

“Okay, let’s go,” was all he said.

Stephanie looked mortified. I attempted to push her out, but she recoiled back. Officer Jones looked at her, then me, before commanding that I get out of the car.


Thinking he might want room in the back seat for a little hide-the-salami action, I pushed past the girl and stood outside the cruiser.

What came next will be etched in my mind forever.

“On your knees, buddy, now.”

Words can’t describe the feeling that swept over me. This couldn’t be happening. Still I felt myself dropping to my knees in front of the huge black man. I was staring directly at his massive cock when he uttered his next command. “Kiss it, kiss it along the side.”

Never in my wildest fantasy had such an action crossed my mind, yet here I was, kneeling on the South Jersey sand, puckering up to pay a kiss on a black police officer’s dick. I wanted to run, but knew Stephanie and Sean were depending on me. I kissed his cock. On the left side, on the right, on the tip.

But any humiliation I felt was multiplied a hundred times when he turned around, bent over, and told me to kiss his ass.

To this day I have no idea of how I ever did it, but soon my lips were pressed against his ass cheeks. First I smooched one side, then the other. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he told me to lick his crack, and by the time he told me to lick his asshole it was as if I was watching a twin doing the nasty deed.

His ass smelled of sweat and who knew what else. I kissed and licked and ultimately inserted my tongue up his tight anus. I had never received a rim job, let alone given one, but apparently I did okay. As I performed on his ass he gradually turned and pulled Stephanie out of the back seat. The crying girl ended up on her knees in front of the cop, and he looked at her with disgust.

“I can’t believe you let your friend do this to me, you have to be taught a lesson, bitch. Suck my dick,” he forcefully spat.

Stephanie said no. She said she didn’t do “that”. I couldn’t believe it. I would have bet my last dollar that she could suck the paint off a wall. Her lips were full and silky looking. The kind of lips made for cocksucking. And I envisioned them wrapped around Sean’s cock on a regular basis. Apparently, as she again said she had never given a blowjob.

Officer Jones put his hands on the back of her head. “You will suck me, one way or the other, so get started. This can be as easy or as hard as you make it.”

I continued to kiss and lick the man’s ass while the two were locked in a battle of wits. Apparently Stephanie ultimately changed her mind and began to perform fellatio on the big black cop. I couldn’t tell for sure, because my face was buried in his ass, but by the movement of his buttocks forward and back it must have been good.

It didn’t take long before the policeman began rocking faster and a groan came out of his mouth. “I’m cumming, you bitch, take it,” he said before pulling out and shooting his hot cum all over Stephanie’s virgin white face. He pulled my hair, twisting my face to the side so I could see the end of his little show.

“She’s might pretty, don’t cha think,” he said to nobody in particular. “Do ya like her brand new pearly white necklace?”

Stephanie was a mess, her face covered with dripping man sauce. The man rubbed some of it into her face with his cock as the girl appeared ready to collapse.

Stephanie attempted to dab the sauce off her face, but the officer told her to leave it alone, calling it face cream. “It will be good for your complexion.” Time stood still as the two of us knelt at the officer’s feet. We looked into each other’s eyes, then to the ground, humiliated.

“Get into the car,” said Officer Jones to the still handcuffed woman. “Lay back.”

She did as she was told, and the policeman lifted her miniskirt and removed her thong panties. He fingered her pussy, commenting on the airplane strip of wispy dark hair above her mound. Then he startled me once again.

“Fuck her,” was all he said, nodding toward the prone woman.

“Ohhh Noooo!” begged Stephanie.

I didn’t need further orders, I merely dropped my pants and grabbed my cock. I rubbed it up and down her wet pussy before inserting it to the limit in one fell push. It was heaven. I fucked the girl of my fantasies for several minutes, listening to her wails of despair, but never stopped my rutting.

She had a tight pussy, and while she didn’t move along with me, the rocking of my body did get me hotter and hotter by the second. The weight of my body pushed down on her, so I held her legs high to ease a little of the pain. At least that's what I told myself.

It wasn’t long before my fucking caused my dick to bulge and sperm to begin its winding way toward a steamy explosion. Along the way she told me not to cum in her, as it was her time of the month and she wasn’t using any protection.

“Don’t even think of pulling out,” said the abusive Officer. “Give her your load, every bit of it.”

It wasn’t as if I had any choice in the matter. It was something out of my hands. It was a clear case of my dick doing what it wanted to do, and that was fuck my best friend’s wife.

I kissed her hard on the lips as she attempted to pull her head away. I rocked in and out of her wet hole, fucking slow before speeding up and crazily riding her. I humped, I fucked, and I banged the woman with abandon. I made her pay for the humiliation I had to endure performing oral favors for the policeman. Transferring my hatred of the cop to her, I shot a load of sticky cum sauce deep into her womb, hoping she’d get knocked up and have to explain that to her husband.

When my dick was fully relieved, I pushed myself off her prone body. Seconds later, Officer Jones took my place, inserting his big black cock into her slimy wet hole.

Again, the familiar words emerged from Stephanie’s mouth. “Ohhhh Noooo!”

Other than in movies, I had never seen people fucking. My eyes were riveted to the coupling couple right before my eyes. The man’s cock was bigger than mine, and he banged it hard into the woman’s sticky snatch.

He called her a whore, a drunk, a slut. He called her names I never heard before. Just as he was cumming he called her a rich bitch and he exploded gobs of baby batter into her saturated pussy.

“ Maybe now you have learned your lesson,” said the policeman.

Stephanie contritely pulled up her panties and lowered her miniskirt. She didn’t say a word, but I could tell she was horrified by the night's sobering actions.

“Thank me for letting you off with just this warning,” said the officer.

Stephanie thought better of defiance, lowering her head and whispering “thank you sir” to the man.

The officer told us to get out of the car, take off our shoes. He then took Stephanie’s skirt and top and my shirt and pants, and said that our clothing would be at her car. “Tonight’s activities will be our own little secret, but remember, I have a video which shows you flunking the drunk test.” He said that tape might be made available to the wrong people if any word of our escapade made it’s way out.

Both of us agreed that mum was the word.

The police cruiser roared away and Stephanie and I hugged each other. She told me how sorry she was to put me through this, and begged me to keep it between us.

I told her one-way to be sure would be to…. and looked down at my dick. As if in a trance, Stephanie bent her head to my dick and began sucking my mushrooming dick to ensure my silence. Never have softer lips touched my manhood, and I excitedly pushed my dick into her seemingly hungry mouth. I couldn’t believe this was a mouth that had been cherry until the last 60 minutes.

For the second time in the evening my dick not only rose to the occasion, but also seemed to have a life of its own as it pistoned in and out of her silky, sucking mouth. Stephanie may not have sucked cock before this evening, but she had developed a special talent of sucking a dick. She bobbed her head like a pro, stroking my cock with her hand. It wasn’t long before I exploded hot cum into her sucking mouth.


We leaned back in exhaustion against a tree. Stephanie was a mess, I wasn’t much better. After a while we looked around and I found an old tee shirt that was large enough to cover her body, giving the appearance of a mini-dress. My boxers didn’t do much more than provide basic modesty.

We kept to the shadows and gradually made our way back toward her vehicle. We received a few catcalls and beeps of the horns of those driving past, but we made the best of the situation.

The next few weeks were strange to say the least. I evaded Sean’s phone calls, missed our weekend golf match, and made several calls to Stephanie to ensure she was coping with the situation.

That situation got worse when we found out she was pregnant. Three men, Sean, Officer Jones and myself, might be the father of the child. But that’s a story for next time.

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