Mom and the Police Officer Pt. 01

----Author's note----

This story is heavily influenced by the works of George VI and others. If you enjoy this, I encourage you to go on and read their stories. The writing below includes themes such as: forced exhibitionism, abuse of authority, reluctance, embarrassment, mild incest, strip searching, etc. These themes, placed in a realistic setting with developed characters, are becoming more and more rare and it is my hope that this work will inspire others to follow and create their own content, be it written or recorded.

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Ch.1

Bill

There isn't much to my life except the plans. That's what we call them and this isn't our first one. My partner and I have been doing this for years. Most often we only taken advantage of the girls for a few weeks. No point in risking our day jobs when we can just find a new lady to pull over.

Mothers are our favorite. They have a lot to lose. We like to find the ones who are active in their community; social programs, girl scouts, and the like. Research is half of the game. We call it a "plan" for a reason. It's incredible what these woman are willing to do when you threaten to upset their perfect little world. Hell -- we usually don't have to even find anything on them. Sometimes just the gossip that they went to the police station -- even if it was only for questioning -- is enough.

Melissa was an obvious choice. Joe and I have been casing her for the past week. She taught 11^th and 12^th grade History at Pohton High School. She has one son, Parker. Every weekday morning, her husband drops him off at school before heading to work. At home, she is one of the host moms for the local girl scouts chapter -- which her daughter, when home from college, helps run.

It was a balmy Tuesday morning when we set our plan into motion. We were on patrol duty that day and made sure to include the route along Old Hills Rd, adjacent to the high school.

Parker

I convinced my mom to let Carl sleep over last night under the pretense that we had a project due this Friday and needed all the time we could get to make it perfect. That always worked with her. Just mention something was important to you about school and you could get away with murder. Well, maybe not murder. Anyway -- we stayed up till 2am just goofing around on my computer, browsing xvideos and such.

Carl and I have known each other since 1st grade and so it goes without saying that there isn't much we hide from one another. Just last month we both turned 18 and took the opportunity to score some legal cigs. We thought we'd smoke them, then we thought we'd sell them, and then we just ended up throwing them out. Hey, what can I say, we're not exactly known for bravado.

Anyway -- what was I saying? Right, we don't hide much from one another. Once I saw Carl eye Madeline, that's my sister, when she came downstairs to fix herself a sandwich.

She was wearing one of those push-up bras underneath a stretched-thin tank top such that you could see the blue lace peeking out. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her skin had a soft tan from the summer's sun. The next day I stole the same bra out from her laundry and showed it to Carl. We jacked off -- not near each other like a pair of queers -- but privately with her bra in our hands. That's the kind of relationship Carl and I have -- real best buds.

Back to the present: it was Tuesday morning now and we woke up to the sounds of mom's voice coming muffled through my bedroom walls. It sounded like she was talking on the phone -- I caught the last sentence, "He's not going to be happy about that. Okay. Love you -- have a safe flight."

You can gather what was going on from that. Dad had a work trip again. Closing my eyes, I drifted back to...

"Parker, Carl, get up! We're running late!"

Carl mumbled to me, "What was that?"

"Mom," I mumbled back between the pillows.

"Shouldn't your mom be at school by now?"

A loud voice flung us out of bed: "Get up you two!"

"Coming," I shouted back.

As we worked our way downstairs, I found mom waiting for us in a huff at the front door. My eyes, still crusted from sleep, took note of what could only be described as the most stereotypical work attire. She had on a black conservative pencil skirt that ended just above the knees. Her top was a button up blouse, white, mostly opaque though if you knew what to look for you could see the outline of her black bra.

"Where's dad?" I asked.

"Work emergency, he's boarding the plane right now."

Carl and I looked at each other with obvious disappointment in our eyes. Mom must have noticed.

"No one is going to know I drove you to school. We'll take your dad's car and I won't park in the teacher's lot. It'll be fine. I already put both your backpacks in the car. Now let's go."

Grumbling, we dragged ourselves into the car.

By our drab Toyota's clock, it was almost 7:30am. The bell for homeroom doesn't ring till 8:25 but my mother's a teacher (if you hadn't already guessed), Mrs. Morrison they call her, and insists on getting to school early. We could take the bus, but fuck that.

I tried to get some more shut eye during the car ride, but mom insisted on making boring conversation. You know, "how is your chemistry project going, "etc. Carl and I kept our answers to one word sentences -- not as if that irritated her. She always has this unfettered cheerful demeanor, like the world is perfectly ripe for her picking.

As the conversation lulled on, I noticed Carl stealing glances at mom's cleavage. Really there wasn't any cleavage to see, with her top all buttoned up. Though, you know, if you looked just right you could make out a nice view between the buttons of her blouse, revealing a bit of black lace. I know it's my mom and it's not like I like her in that way or anything. Tits are tits, right? And forgive me if I can't help myself when the opportunity rises to steal a glance or two.

Such moments are rare though. She must have felt our stares as she shifted her weight and the view was gone. Such is life, no?

Speaking of mom -- she's actually not bad looking. Carl's more into the MILF thing than I am but even I have to admit that she has a certain attractiveness about her. Though she is 41, age really hasn't caught up to her yet. She's about 5'4", maybe 5'6" with her conservative teacher's heels on. From the bras that Carl and I have stolen, we know her breasts rest comfortably at 36D. And she has that womanly way of walking, you know with their back arched a bit, which really adds to her allure.

Honestly though, I think it's her face which men find so sexy. Her skin is that timeless pale white, like the Irish but without the freckles. Her cheekbones are well pronounced, but not sharp or angled. Her lips are a light pink and hold this half-smile half-frown as if she's trying to enjoy herself yet always a little embarrassed at doing so. And her eyes, a light gray blue, with eyebrows that seductively curve above them. She plays with her hairstyle quite often but she never dyes it away from its natural brown. Today she left her hair loose such that it rests just below her shoulders.

None of that really matters though, if you ask me. Like I said, she's conservative and she's mom. There are more rewarding girls to look at than her. Anyway, I digress... My eyes drifted closed again and eventually her questions stopped. Hearing Carl mumble softly to himself, he must have fallen asleep. I tried following suit.

"I have to make a phone call," mom said as she turned to me. My eyes glanced away, bored.

I could only hear one side of the conversation. This is what I made out.

"Oh thank god you answered. How are you, Tom?

...

"Oh just fine, here's the thing -- I'm running a little late today."

...

"No not in the teacher's lot, I have my son with me."

...

"Yeah, you're probably right, but this isn't the time."

...

"Okay, front lot with the orange cone. Thanks again, Tom."

She hung up. "Who was that," I asked.

"Tom? 'just a work friend. He's saving us a parking spot in the front."

Carl had woken back up now and interrupted into the conversation with, "Can't you just drop us off like a mile away, and we'll walk?" Carl's not known for his manners -- I chimed in with agreement anyway.

Mom, not one to let rudeness bother her, turned to both of us: "We're already late. You're not going to miss one extra minute of school."

A police siren wailed behind us. I turned around.

"Mom, I think there's a patrol car behind you."

She paid no attention, "Why would there be-"

Another loud blast of the siren cut her off.

"Perfect -- just perfect."

We had pretty much arrived at school by now and mom started pulling over in the front parking lot. I couldn't help but demonstrate how pissed off I was by mumbling, "none will see us being driven to school with you? And now we're getting pulled over right in the fucking school parking lot."

"Language, Parker! I'm sure it's some misunderstanding. You two shush for now and let me talk to the officer," she said to us.

Bill

It's 7:45am and we're making our rounds around the high school. It's been maybe three years of Paul and I perfecting our method. I remember how it started. We were sitting outside a Micky D's, drinking our $1 coffee when I asked Paul,

"You hear about that McDonald's fiasco?

Paul returned, "The one on Jefferson, another robbery?"

"No, no, the movie man, just came out."

Paul gave me that blank stare and shrugged, so I continued, "Well, I watched it last night. It's a true story ya know. This hot McDonald's employee, right -- she gets strip searched by her own colleagues all because of some cop impersonator on the phone telling them to do so."

Paul, between sips of his coffee, mumbled, "Crazy world..."

Sometimes his indifference really pisses me off. I said, "Stop being a dweeb, Paul -- you know what I'm getting at."

He didn't respond.

I continued, "Jesus okay, the point is this girl right -- she went along with it. Even her employees searching her went along with it. Everyone went along with it. Get it?"

Paul gave a silent grunt. He really is an ugly motherfucker.

"Look, just follow my lead."

That was our first case, years ago now. Paul has since gained more than a couple pounds. The lady's like that less, I'm sure. Hell, it feels like we've managed to make ourselves more repulsive in these last few years, out of pure pleasure of the craft.

Paul pointed to a silver Corolla at our 11, "that's her."

It was almost 8am now. She's late. No matter. As the car passed, I said to Paul "Looks like she has company in the back seat."

He smirked, "go time."

I made a quick u-turn and flipped on the siren.

Parker

The cop walked up to the car, looking bored out of his mind. Mom was evidently quite worried -- it's not like she had anything to say to us, but she's a talkative person, and her quietness, well, it unnerved me.

Still, I couldn't help myself from gloating a bit. I had no idea why mom got pulled over. I doubt she had any idea either. Nevertheless, she forced us to go with her to school and now there's an officer approaching her window. 'Felt like a bit of revenge.

KNOCK KNOCK

"One second" my mom mouthed to the officer as she took a few extra moments to find the window button. The officer was looking everywhere except at mom and us, like he was scouting the scene.

The school busses were just arriving and instead of the students going to their classes they just kind of made a semicircle around our car. Even our school's president joined them. I recognized a few of my friends in the crowd. And then there were the other parents, who upon dropping off their kids, decided to stay in their cars and watch the latest town-gossip unfold. Some faculty and staff had parked and waited outside to watch what was going on. The flashing police lights created quite the beacon. I even recognized a few of my buds by the school grounds -- 'uncertain if they realized it was Carl and I in the car yet.

"What can I do for you officer?" asked my mom politely.

"License and registration, mam"

"Officer... Bill [she must have read his badge], my name is Mrs. Morrison -- a teacher at this school. I have to get to my class and my son and his friend have to get to theirs. Can we perhaps handle this later?"

"License and registration," he grunted back. What an asshole. Mom was being perfectly polite and this guy couldn't care less. So much for that pseudo-happy revenge feeling, now I wanted to punch this moron.

"Are you recording this?" questioned mom. Following her eyes, there was a big button with a lens on the officer's uniform.

"New policy. You're wasting your own time here. You need to get to your class and I need to get to my coffee. I suggest you hand over your license and registration," he stated back with this drawn-out boring cadence.

"One second, it's in the glovebox"

Mom rummaged through the mess of dad's glovebox. Her blouse gaped open around the buttons again as she leaned across the center aisle.

"Here they are!" she said, turning to the officer with a smile.

Instead of waiting for the documents, the officer brazenly reached across the center console and grabbed the registration from mom. The whole thing was so unexpected and so quick that I almost missed the back of the officer's hand as it brushed up against mom's chest. She flinched for a blink of a second, but let it off as a rude mistake.

"This will only take a moment," remarked Bill to all of us. And with that he dragged himself slowly back to his car, the police lights still on.

"Well... this was unexpected..." said mom to us, putting on one of her contagious smiles.

"People are starting to gather round..." said Carl sullenly.

"Class has to be starting any minute now -- they'll clear away soon. Hey at least you two are getting what you want."

We looked at her with a question mark.

"You're missing class!" she said, laughing.

"Hah yeah, this is true" I said, smiling at Carl. He still seemed a bit pissy.

"Don't get too comfortable -- the officer should be back any minute now, telling us he's made some mistake."

"How can I get comfortable when half the school is watching us?" said Carl, to himself.

"It's just a few people, no one you know," countered mom.

Carl looked up. "There's Henry right over there, and Rob, and there's Mr. Clements -- yeah 'no one you know'". I looked up and, well, he was right. This was obviously not going to stay a secret. Not that I cared - it's kind of badass isn't it? Being pulled over by the cops in front of school.

"Well I don't..." started my mom before we all saw the officer approach the window again.

"Mam -- your registration is expired."

"Expired? Well, maybe my husband didn't put in the most recent card, but if you look..."

"We ran the registration -- it's expired," interrupted the officer. His eyes, this time, were not looking around. They were beating down on mom.

"Okay okay, so I'll renew the registration. Is that all officer?" asked my mom, obviously a bit perplexed.

"The attitude isn't necessary."

"What attitude? My son is going to miss class, my entire class is going to miss theirs -- and all because, what? My registration is expired. Why did you pull us over anyway?"

"Have you been drinking?"

"Have I been drinking?! It's 8am in the morning! No, I haven't been..." Mom's voice was escalating. More people started to gather. The bells for class rang but no one was moving.

"Step of the car."

"Are you crazy?!"

"Step out of the car, now."

Mom flustered and angry, turned to us: "Just sit tight, this won't take more than a second." She opened the door and started to step out of the car. Bill grabbed her by the arm.

Hey!" she huffed. Bill ignored her.

"Stand here," he said as he forced her towards the front of our car, facing us. We could see her clearly through the windshield. Mom looked confused.

"Yo Mrs. Morrison! Late night?" yelled a boy walking by. I recognized him as Tim in my 3^rd period history class with mom. Our windows were still rolled down, Carl and I could hear everything.

"Just a misunderstanding, don't be late for..." smiled mom before she was interrupted.

"Move along kid. And mam, this is not a misunderstanding. Spread your legs. Raise your arms to the sides. We're going to conduct a sobriety test," commanded officer Bill.

"Right here?" questioned mom.

"It's either that or we take you back to the station.

Mom sighed and assumed the position.

Bill continued, "I'm going to ask you a series of questions now. Answer them as succinctly and promptly as you can. What is your name?

"Melissa Morrison"

"What is your son's name?"

"Parker Morrison"

"What is your occupation"

"History teacher"

"What is your favorite color?"

Mom stuttred, "I don't...." I turned to Carl with marked confusion. He just shrugged and looked back at mom.

"What is your favorite color?" questioned the officer again.

"Red" replied mom, perplexed.

"When was the last time you had a gynological exam?"

Mom brought her hands to the side and started to look around her. "What the fuck?" I mumbled. Bill quickly moved alongside her and forced her back into place.

"When was the last time you had a gynological exam?" repeated Bill, louder now. The crowd rose to a mumble as they heard him.

"What does that have to do with..." whispered mom.

Bill took out his and spoke, "Take her in, suspect is becoming disobedient."

Mom mumbled, "last month."

"Cancel that," said Bill.

"Who was your doctor?" continued Bill.

"Dr. Herly"

"So far so good. We will continue with a few dexterity tests. Understand?"

Mom nodded.

"Raise your hands above your head, bring your hands together."

Mom's blouse became untucked as she raised her arms.

"Touch your nose with your right hand, and then your left."

Bill continued, "Walk away from the car in a straight line, one foot in front of the other."

Bill followed mom as she walked about ten feet.

"Bend forward, keeping your knees locked."

Mom hesitated and then started to bend forward. Her skirt rose to her upper thighs.

"Touch your toes," said Bill.

"Nice bra!" shouted someone from the crowd. Her blouse must have fallen down past her lower back, though I couldn't see that side of her. Instead, Carl's and eyes enlarged tenfold as mom's evidently lace white panties came into view, pressing into her mound like Seran wrap. I banked the view for future use, thinking nothing would ever compare. Boy was I wrong...

"That's not right!" shouted a female. The officer paid no attention. Mom started to get up with the sound of help and understanding. Bill placed his hand on her lower back, keeping her down. And I noticed something fall.

"What's this?" shouted Bill.

Mom started to stand up.

"Stay down!" screamed Bill.

"Oh shit," I remarked, turning to Carl. He was stunned.

"Paul, get over here," radioed Bill. A second patrolman was soon by his side. Bill handed him, what looked to me like a packet of baking soda.

"Stand up," said Bill. Mom was standing again. Her clothes were disheveled. Her face a confused mess. She was visibly shaking a little. Her skirt had ridden up quite a ways. She tried to compose herself, but I could notice her evident distress, and felt bad.

Paul, looked into his partner's camera and said robotically, "For the record. This packet of what appears to be cocaine fell out of the culprit's blouse during her sobriety test. We suspect she may have additional illegal substances on her person."

Mom gasped and looked towards me for the first time.