Fuck the Police

content note: trans person stopped by police, some sexual touch happens before consent is given

*

The spring afternoon is warm and mellow. There's no traffic to interrupt my thoughts or slow my pace on this long straight highway. I'm headed home from a sex-filled weekend, so I'm replaying the highlights in my mind and enjoying being half hard. Without really thinking, I open my fly to start stroking my cock lazily. I smile to myself as I pass a truck, hoping the driver likes what they see. In the utopia of my imagination every one is unapologetically queer and shamelessly horny. Thinking that a trucker might see makes me want to stroke harder. I reach into my cunt for some wetness. It's an awkward angle, and when I adjust my position I jerk the wheel and swerve a little. Oops! Now that my strokes are smooth and slick, it takes a moment to register the flashing lights in the rearview mirror. Shit! I pull over and pull my shirt down over my lap.

In spite of my anxiety, I can't help but notice the cop's well defined muscles and slight swagger as she comes to my car window. I can tell she's confident in her authority, and it's sexy as hell. Her partner, who's back with their bikes, takes off his helmet and stretches. I briefly imagine him licking his partner's boots. Mmmmm... I admire his sensual lips and thick hair. Pretty. I give myself an internal reprimand to pull my focus away from thoughts of my cock between those lips. My inner porn director is working overtime today!

"Please step out of the car, sir." Her no nonsense tone arouses my rebellious side. I'm still hard, and the smart ass masochist in me suggests a sassy comment that would earn me a delicious punishment in other circumstances. I know I should be more afraid, but my visit to queer paradise turned on a part of me that hasn't yet adjusted to being back in the default world.

"Just a moment..." I need to put my dick away!

Her nostrils flare, and she says, "Now, sir. I'm not going to ask you again."

With silent gratitude that I left the top button of my fly closed, I get out of the car and walk around to the side away from traffic, all the while hoping my shirt is keeping me covered. I walk a straight line, follow the officer's finger with my eyes, and count backwards. Pervert that I am, my junk is still hard and wet from the potential of getting caught. Then she asks me to close my eyes and touch my finger to my nose. When I raise my arms, my shirt lifts. I feel a breeze across my cock. I keep my eyes closed. Maybe she's watching my face too closely to notice. The silence lasts a little too long. Oh, shit. My fear finally starts to overtake my arousal when I hear the crunch of another pair of boots coming over. All I did was swerve! I keep my eyes closed, hoping they will laugh it off, and this will all be over soon. I don't want to become another trans victim of police brutality. I can't think about that. I focus on how solid my booted feet feel against the ground.

"I've determined this driver is not under the influence of a substance, But as you can see, his engorged condition does pose a safety concern that must be addressed before he resumes driving." Did I hear that correctly? There's not even a hint of amusement in her tone even though what she's saying sounds like something right out of a scene from "Lady Cops Gone Wild". (I once had a lover who would bring home free videos from their job at a sex shop. We watched it all because it was free. When it wasn't sexy, it was still amusing to make fun of.) I dismiss the pornographic association and bring myself back to reality.

"Yes, sir!" I open my eyes in confusion at the partner's enthusiastic and submissive response. Again I wonder if I am adding sexual subtext to this situation because I desperately want this to be a scene from my queer utopia instead of an ordinary traffic stop. I know I'm not in any position to question what's happening here. I ought to be afraid, not fantasizing! I take a deep breath. Neither panic or porn will help this situation.

"Put your hands on the roof of the car." Her tone can't be argued with. Do I see a glimmer of amusement in her eyes?

I comply quickly, feeling vulnerable and confused. Am I getting arrested? I remember a pamphlet from the Anarchist Book Fair and ask, "Am I under arrest?"

She doesn't answer. She's patting me down, but much more slowly and thoroughly than I would expect. It almost feels like a caress. Under other circumstances, this would be foreplay, and my arousal returns to mix with my fear. The other officer gets on his knees in front of me and eagerly licks his lips. He looks up at me, and my cock twitches in response. This is too much. What is happening?!?

"My partner is going to make sure your driving is no longer impaired." One of her hands rests on the back of my neck, holding me still, and I feel calmed in spite of myself. How does this cop know which buttons to push?

Her partner reaches up and unbuttons the last button of my fly. My pants slip down. I'm very aware that my ass is now exposed to the officer behind me. His breath touches my cock, emphasizing that it's just out of reach of those amazing lips. I don't understand how we got here, but I'm starting not to care. It's like my queer utopia has taken to the streets. The opportunity to act out the fantasy is too precious to resist. Perhaps foolishly, I let go of my fear.

As if she can feel the change in me, his partner steps closer behind me and slaps my ass low enough that I feel the vibration in my cunt. "Spread your legs," she says, but before I can respond her hands are on my inner thighs, pushing my legs apart. Can she feel my wetness? Instinctively my back arches pushing my open cunt toward her. I freeze, bracing for her reaction.

"What's this?" she cups my labia, dipping one finger between them. "You have a treat for me, too!" Relieved and wanting more, I start to rock my hips against her hands. I whimper in spite of myself when she takes her hand away.

"Greedy, aren't you?" she says as she slaps my ass again. With both hands she pulls my hips to her crotch and grinds against me. I can feel her hardness inside me already. I want her teeth on my neck, but all I get are her lips brushing my ear as she growls, "Fuck that face!"

I'm happy to comply. I reach down and grab her partner by the hair, pulling his beautiful mouth onto me. He needs no more encouragement. That month feels even more amazing than it looks.

"Oh yeah," I groan, "Don't fucking stop." I don't really care whether I'm allowed to give him orders. Maybe she'll slap my ass again.

"He won't. He loves it," she whispers. She must have taken her cock out, because I feel it at the entrance of my hole, teasing me as I hump her partners face.

"More." I'm too immersed in sensation for politeness or complete sentences. I guess she is too because she pushes all the way into me. With one thrust she's in me so deep it hurts a little, and right now that's a good thing. She matches the rhythm of my hips as I fuck her partner's face. I can see by his tears that he's working hard to please me. She pulls almost all the way out of me and rubs her cock head against my g-spot as I press into that talented mouth. All of me is concentrated on the exquisite pleasure.

A truck horn blasts twice, and I'm reminded where we are. Knowing we have an intermittent audience pushes me over the edge. My orgasm seems endless. I feel her bucking against me in response as her partner struggles to keep his lips around me. He's thrusting and shaking, too. When I come back to awareness, I feel his arms around my leg and a soft caress on my cock as it softens. Her weight nests against my back, and her cock brushes my thigh. I stay still to enjoy the pleasure of contact as my arousal ebbs away. When I stir, both officers straighten up and put themselves together.

She's all business once we're properly dressed. "I've decided not to cite you as long as you promise to drive safely in the future."

"Thank you, officers. I will." I hope she understands that I'm thanking them for more than letting me go without a ticket. She nods; he smiles briefly, and as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, they get back on their bikes and ride away. They've given me a taste of dreams come true.

As I drive away, "Fuck tha Police" by NWA comes on the stereo. "I just did!" I think, and laugh out loud. I spend the rest of the drive home making up alternate lyrics to fit my recent experience. Today the proud queer sex utopia wasn't only in my head!