Man in Bluebysticky_cherry_syrup©
The young woman with jet black hair and dressed in a tie-dyed t-shirt smiled as Rachel walked into the shop.
"Back again so soon?" she asked, as Rachel bypassed the tacky bachelorette party supplies and headed straight for the vibrators.
"Yeah," Rachel murmured, feeling a blush of embarrassment rise on her cheeks. She let her heavy dark brown hair parted down the middle fall over her shoulders, partially hiding her face. She always feared that someone she knew from work would come strolling in to buy party supplies while she was carrying around a fake penis.
The clerk left her alone to peruse the merchandise. Rachel knew the selection as well as anyone who worked in the shop. She had been coming in weekly for several months now, not always to buy a new vibrator, but usually.
Her gaze swept quickly over the ones she already had: the long, skinny ones; short, fat ones; prickly ones; smooth ones; red, black and blue ones. There were butterflies, dolphins and ducks. Silicon, jelly, and plastic. The assortment was dizzying. And yet she owned many of them.
Beside the vibrators were the dildos. She had several of these as well. Five inch, six, seven, eight, nine...even ten. White, brown, black. Thick, thin, medium sized. Veiny and smooth. There were dildos shaped like street cones and others like fists.
Then there were the anal toys. For Rachel, this was a category of pleasuring as yet unexplored. Her vivid blue eyes moved up and down the display. She needed something small to start with that wouldn't leave her walking strangely the next day. A long, slender, and quite flexible anal dildo seemed interesting without being scary. She tucked it, along with an extra large tube of lubricant, under her arm, relieved she was the only person in the store.
A new item had arrived, suction nipple vibrators. Although she owned vibrating nipple clamps, she didn't own any that stayed on using suction. She pulled the package off the shelf, not even looking at the price tag. Her trip to the store hadn't been in vain.
She decided on another item that she'd been considering for a while, a fairly small "rabbit" vibrator with a split clitoral stimulator. Oh yeah, she could definitely use some more clit action. As she walked to the counter, she picked up an extra large package of batteries. She'd discovered of late that she could never have too many batteries.
The clerk reminded Rachel of the need for more antibiotic toy cleaner, then rang up the total. "That'll be one hundred thirty-nine dollars and forty-eight cents, please," the clerk told her.
Rachel cringed as she took out her credit card. All told, she'd spent over four hundred dollars that month alone on sex toys.
The young woman behind the counter took the vibrator out of the box and loaded it with fresh batteries, then turned it on. The device hummed to life.
"Is that okay for you?" the clerk asked, holding it out to Rachel to feel.
Rachel touched the end of the device.
"That works for me," she said with a hint of irony.
"Did you want me to leave the batteries in it?"
"Sure, why not."
Back in her car, Rachel opened the bag and withdrew the vibrator from its box. She hoped this one would last a while. For months now she'd been buying vibrators, finding the first experience with a new toy to be exhilarating. She could reach orgasm in thirty seconds with a new one of these. But once the novelty of a device wore off, she found herself longing for something new and different. Perhaps her purchases of today would keep her occupied to awhile.
Starting her car, she did all the things she usually did before her long commute home: adjust her rearview mirror, put on her sunglasses, tune the radio, plug in her cell phone to recharge. She hated the almost hour-and-a-half commute in heavy traffic that her job in Houston demanded of her.
Once on the expressway and headed west out of the city, Rachel tried to focus her mind on elements other than the contents of the bag beside her. She listened to talk radio, made a mental list of things to do over the weekend, and once more went over the last conversation with her now-ex-boyfriend. It was the last thing that gave her the most grief. She and Steven had been together for fifteen years, ever since high school. They'd even bought a house together...a house in the country that he had picked out, with no neighbors, just so he could smoke pot every night on the back porch. She now had to try to sell that house since he'd moved in with his new nineteen year old girlfriend. It meant that Rachel could move closer to Houston, but until then she still had the unbearable commutes to contend with.
Traffic moved at a crawl the first hour. Mentally exhausted from the stress of the commute, she pulled off just short of the town of Katy and went through a drive-thru to get an iced coffee. As she sat in the parking lot messing with her straw and letting her nerves unwind, an idea streaked through her mind. She pushed it away. It came back. Again she told herself no. But the idea persisted.
Ordinarily she didn't have toy cleaner with her in the car, but today was an exception. There was the added benefit of a handful of napkins that had come with her iced coffee. She opened the black bag and, glancing about the parking lot to make sure no one was around, opened the vibrator box. Stealthily she doused the surface of the vibrator with the toy cleaner and rubbed the excess away with a napkin. Again she glanced around her car, just to make sure there were no roving eyes. She turned on the vibrator and slid it up under her skirt to where her thighs parted. A gasp escaped her lips as the vibrator immediately hit her erogenous zones.
"Oh yeah," she sighed happily. "That'll do it."
Leaving the vibrator against her panties, she started to back out, but felt awkward with something lying between her legs. Again she parked her car and thought about it. Did she dare? She never had before, mostly because she found it too distracting. But the rest of the drive was relatively quiet, being on the outskirts of the city. Besides, if her experience proved true, she probably wouldn't get far before the first orgasm hit.
Rachel kicked off her heels, then lifted her butt off the seat to pull down her already-damp panties. These she stuffed in the bag from the store, along with the spare napkins from the drive-thru. Next, she glided the vibrator up into her moist vagina, careful to keep her skirt under her legs. She always released a profuse amount of fluid when she orgasmed and didn't want to soil her car seat. She left the large tube of lubricator in the bag. She wouldn't be needing it today.
The vibrator buzzed gently inside of her, sending wonderful vibrations through her core. The little rabbit ears around her clit teased her in a deliciously agonizing way. She could so come right now. She closed her eyes and let the feeling capture her. All the troubles of the day seemed to fade to a distant memory. She lifted her hips a bit off the seat and wiggled eagerly against the vibrator. Oh, that was good. Yes, she could definitely come now.
Brakes screeched outside her window and she opened her eyes to see a trucker sitting in his cab, staring right at her. Rachel immediately sat back down in her seat, mortified. Something in his expression told her that he knew exactly what she was doing. She quickly started her car and backed out, then pulled forward and took off. Looking in her rearview mirror, she was relieved to see he wasn't following.
Back on the expressway, she tried to let the incident go. Anyway, the trucker had ruined her orgasm. She'd been so close to coming, and now it felt as though she had to start all over. Watching the road in front of her, she tried to manage her speed, knowing that this stretch of the road was full of fine-hungry cops. Her new economy car didn't have cruise control, something she'd grown up with, and at times she had difficulty maintaining a legal speed. Now was no exception.
The vibrator was really doing its job. Rachel moaned and dragged a hand over her soft round breasts. Beneath her light sweater, two stiff points jutted through the thin lacy fabric of her underwire bra. She wiggled against the vibrator, gasping as the tiny sensations drew her closer and closer to orgasm. The direct stimulation was intensely perfect. She watched the road passing under her wheels, saw the other cars, wondered why they looked like they were standing still. Oh God, her vagina was going to explode. She gripped the wheel, bucking wildly against the vibrator deep within her.
"Yes!" she screamed, her head flopping back and forth as her body began to tremble. "Yes, oh yes—"
"Please pull your vehicle over," a metallic voice said from heaven and, mid-orgasm, Rachel looked up to see flashing lights in her rearview mirror.
Somehow she put on her blinker. Somehow she changed lanes and managed to pull over to the shoulder. She was still breathing raggedly, and blood raced through her veins. She leaned her head back against the headrest, thinking for some reason she had all the time in the world.
A hand tapped impatiently at her window and she rolled it down. A police officer in blue bent down to look at her.
"Are you aware of how fast you were going?" he demanded sharply. His sunglasses reflected her own. He had tanned skin and dazzling white teeth.
"No, sorry," Rachel said, her voice sounding far away to her own ears.
He stood up straight, angry and annoyed. "License and proof of insurance," he snapped. "And turn off your vehicle, please." The "please" at the end was a demand, not a request.
Rachel turned off her ignition and leaned to retrieve her insurance information from the glove box. As she pulled out the card, something inside the glove box caught her eye.
A small zip-lock bag of marijuana lay nestled in the glove box's paperwork. It wasn't enough for Steven to have bothered with, but it was certainly enough to get Rachel arrested. She was furious her ex had so carelessly left the illegal substance behind in her car. But as long as she did what she was told and got through this alright, she had nothing to fear.
She took out her license as well and passed it and her insurance card through the window. Her hands were trembling and sweat appeared on her forehead.
He glanced at her information, then back at her.
"Have you been drinking?" he asked.
Rachel's eyes grew larger. Why wasn't he just writing the ticket? Why was he hassling her?
She picked up the iced coffee and shook it. "This is the only thing I've been drinking," she said.
"Did you stop anywhere else?" he went on hostilely.
"No, just the fast food drive-thru," she answered.
He glanced into her car. "What's in the bag?" he asked.
Rachel's heart felt as though it simultaneously sank and somersaulted. "What?"
He gestured to the black plastic bag in her passenger seat.
Compared to the marijuana, the bagful of sex toys was a minor thing. And yet when Rachel opened her mouth to answer, the words wouldn't come out.
"What's in the bag?" he asked again, more stringent than the first time.
She stared at him. Oh crap, why was he so angry?
He stood up straight again. "Please step out of the vehicle," he said.
Rachel's heart rate skyrocketed.
"What?" she whispered, not believing her ears.
"Step out of the car, please," he said, biting out each word as though she didn't understand English.
Rachel snapped closed the glove box as she reached for her shoes.
"Step out of the vehicle now," the cop said between his teeth.
Rachel opened the car door and, squeezing her thighs together, awkwardly planted her bare feet on the hot pavement. She could feel the vibrator slip a bit, but fortunately her vagina was tight enough to keep it in...as long as she didn't move a lot.
"Go stand over there," he said, pointing to the front of her car.
"The pavement is hot," she said.
He sat down in the driver's seat and reached over to grab her shoes from the floor of the passenger side.
"Here. Now go stand over there."
"Don't you need a warrant to search my car?" Rachel demanded as she clumsily tried to get into her shoes while the police officer remained inside.
He smiled menacingly at her. "You've been watching too much television. All I need is probable cause and believe me, you gave it to me. Go stand over there."
Rachel turned away from him and inched forward. The vibrator gave a little more. She squeezed her vagina as tightly as she could around it. God, this was a nightmare.
After only a minute or so he emerged from her car with the black bag.
"Come here," he said.
Rachel took tiny steps towards him.
"Can't you walk like a normal person?" he demanded, his gaze sweeping up and down her body.
"Not at the moment," she retorted angrily. "I really have to pee."
He made a sarcastic snort. "I don't think that's your problem," he said. "I think this is."
He withdrew the empty vibrator box from the bag and held it up in front of her.
"I think this is your problem," he repeated. "I think you were masturbating and that's why you were doing a hundred and five miles per hour."
Rachel gasped. "I couldn't have been doing a hundred and five. My car doesn't even run that well." Never mind about the masturbation.
"Yes it does," he said shortly. "You were going a full forty-five miles over the speed limit, and that alone gives me cause to arrest you."
"Look," Rachel began nervously. Tears were starting to brim her eyes.
"But that isn't all," he went on, callously immune to female tears. "I saw how you made sure you closed that glove compartment before you got out. What are the chances I'll find something illegal in there if I look?"
"You won't find my fingerprints on it," she said, a tear sliding down her cheek.
"That won't matter," he answered coldly. "You've broken the law in a big way. I hope you have a good attorney."
"This is all just a misunderstanding," Rachel murmured, feeling sick to her stomach. "I'm not a bad person. I haven't done anything wrong."
"Really? Then where's the vibrator?" he demanded, shaking the black bag he still held in his hand.
She closed her eyes, wishing she could disappear into the pavement.
"And why are your underwear in the bag?" he went on, pulling out her damp panties.
Rachel began to sob. "Okay, you're right," she managed. "Yes, I was masturbating."
He sucked in a sharp breath—the first human response he'd shown thus far.
"I'm sorry," she went on, her lips trembling as big tears streamed down her cheeks. "I just get so frustrated with my long commute. I bought this house out in the sticks with my boyfriend because it was where he wanted to be, and then five months ago he suddenly up and left me for some nineteen year old bimbo, and here I am stuck selling the house and having to commute three hours a day. I get all wound up and angry and the masturbating takes off the edge."
"You shouldn't do it in the car when you're moving," he said prudently. "It's dangerous. You could kill yourself and someone else."
"Yes, you're right," Rachel agreed, encouraged by his tone. She wiped her tears with the back of her trembling hands. "I've never done it in the car before. That's why I was driving so crazy."
For one bright moment she held out hope that he was going to let her off with just a warning. He certainly appeared to be wavering as he stood there looking at her.
Then the mobile radio attached to his shoulder crackled and a voice asked him to report. He turned his face away from Rachel as he spoke in a series of codes to dispatch. She tried to make out what he was saying, but a steady stream of eighteen wheelers on the highway drowned his words.
When he turned back around, he set the bag on the ground, then pulled his hand cuffs out of his back pocket.
"I'll let you keep them in the front so the ride to the station is more comfortable," he said as he held the cuffs out to her.
Rachel gaped at him. "Are you serious?" she cried, fresh tears spilling out of her eyes. "Can't you just let me off with a ticket?"
"I'm sorry, I can't. I called it in before I ever stopped you. They'll be expecting me to bring you in for processing."
"What about my car?"
"It'll be impounded. And searched."
Rachel felt her knees buckle. "But this will go on my record. I'll lose my job."
"I guess you should have thought of that before," he said coldly.
Rachel couldn't believe this was happening to her. The feeling of cold metal on her wrists let her know it wasn't just some crazy dream. He took her arm and started walking her towards his squad car. He walked faster than her, taking longer strides, and her knees would no longer stay together. Her thighs opened, and the vibrator slipped out of her and fell noisily to the ground.
He looked back at it. Whatever he thought of it, he kept his thoughts neutral as he continued leading her to the car.
The back of the squad car felt strange. The seat was hard instead of cushiony. He dragged a seat belt around her and buckled her in, then reached up to take her sunglasses off of her before shutting the door in her face. She watched him through the steel grate separating the front seat from the back as he walked to her car to retrieve her personal effects. He brought with him the plastic bag as well. She felt sick to her stomach when he bent over to retrieve the vibrator from off the ground.
He tossed the bag and its contents to the floor of the front passenger side and buckled himself in as he started the car. If he'd removed the bag of marijuana she didn't see it.
Rachel closed her eyes and sobbed quietly. Her life was over. She was only thirty-two. How would she ever recover from this?
The squad car started forward, reentering the freeway. She felt the bumps along the way. She hadn't even thought of asking him what township he belonged to. There were so many small towns out this way and they were all notorious for making their revenue off of fleecing drivers. She could just imagine what the county judge would do to her. The fines would be enormous. That was if—just if—she didn't get jail time as well.
She looked absently at the back of the cop's head. His black hair was cut short with a razor down to the scalp. Probably the all-American Boy Scout type. Rachel sighed and shook her head at herself. How could she have gotten into this mess?
Her eyes shifted to meet his in the rearview mirror. He had taken off his sunglasses—it was getting dark now—and she could see that his eyes were light blue in his tanned face.
"Look, I know how you feel," he said suddenly. "I spend my whole day in a car. It's boring as shit. Getting yourself off is just an easy way to relieve the boredom. I know because I do it all the time."
Rachel's heart pounded. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked. Surely he had to know that what he was saying was inappropriate.
"I understand where you're coming from," he went on as though he hadn't heard her. "I split up with my wife two years ago. I don't even want to think about dating anyone else. But then I go in a convenience store and see all those magazines behind the counter, and it's like, fuck, I get so horny. I never let myself buy that shit when I'm in uniform, but as soon as I'm in plain clothes, I'm in there buying everything they got and jerking myself off behind the building."
Rachel stared at him in the rearview mirror. He must think she was just some stupid slut who liked being talked to this way.
"I keep a bunch of that shit under the seat here," he went on, pulling several porn magazines out and waving them in the air. "It gets real quiet on this stretch between noon and two, and I just sit back in the parking lot of an abandoned gas station off the highway and jerk myself off until there's nothing left."