I was halfway to the Fanta-C Motel when the red lights of a state police car started flashing in my rear-view mirror. I figured it was my out-of-state plates. They're magnets for a trooper with a hard-on for transients and a ticket quota to make.
I pulled over to the unpaved shoulder. I cursed and drummed my fingers on the open window as I watched the cop approach in my side mirror.
To my surprise, it was a girl deputy. She gave new meaning to the words "arresting officer." I couldn't keep my eyes off her.
She made the uniform look good as she fleshed it out with more T-n-A than even stretch-polyester could contain. Khaki clung to her every curve, and she had more than a mountain highway.
The top three buttons of her shirt were undone, no match for the glandular globes that overcrowded the crisp fabric. Giant breasts swelled beneath the skin-tight uniform. Lifted up and out, they made enough sweaty cleavage to put the Rockies to shame.
Her utility belt rode low on that slender waist. Her fingers just touched the butt of the big service revolver holstered on her hip. She was all police business.
"Is there a problem, Deputy Klench?" I asked, squinting to read the name off the golden badge pinned to her chest. Elsa Klench, it said. I tried to glimpse the beautiful face under the wide hat brim.
"I been on your ass so close I could've wiped it for you."
I gave a friendly smile. "You must have me confused with somebody else."
Her nostrils flared as she sniffed me. "Step outta the car," she goes. Little blue icicles hung from her words.
She led me to the hood of the Menace where I assumed the all-too-familiar position. With my hands on the trunk and legs spread apart, she frisked me top to bottom.
My balls shrank up and away out of habit. Experience taught me that John Law could be a real nutcracker. Jane Law, though, liked what she found. On the second pass her fingers lingered at my bloating bulge.
"You carrying?" she asked. She'd found my piece all right, a fully loaded, double ball-barreled ladykiller.
"No, ma'am," I gulped. The long arm of the law was between my legs, fondling the length of my hardening cock.
She was like, "What's the big idea?" as she measured my pachydermic package with her fingers. Her voice was a hot hiss. "You some kinda pervert or something?"
"No, ma'am." Meanwhile she kept on carrying on with the offending anatomical wonder. The copper was copping a feel. Her fingers stroked and kneaded the inflated flesh until my ramrod was righteously rigid. I'd been pinched before, but never like this.
"You with the carnival?" she asked.
"No, ma'am," I lied.
"You got the look of the gypsy about you. You been hustling tonight?"
"No, ma'am. Just trying to get where I'm going."
Before I knew it she had the bracelets locked on my wrists. She pressed down on my neck the way you do to an ornery junkyard mutt to break his spirit and show him who's who. My cheek slammed against the trunk.
"I know all about you carnies. You got sawdust in your shoes and larceny in your eyes."
She leaned into my back, and I felt the full weight of her overblown bosom molding their meaty selves to my shoulder.
"You think you can do what you want for free, scofflaw?" she whispered in my ear. Hatred dripped from every word.
I was thinking, this is when she asks for the payoff. Cuz everybody's on the take, I don't care who you are -- and that goes double for the law. Deputy Klench was asking for it all right. But not for the wad I figured.
She wrapped her left leg around my own, rubbing her crotch against my hip and purring deep in her throat. She straddled my cuffed hands and, with rhythmic pelvic thrusts, began to grind her snatch back and forth over my fingers and knuckles. The steam heat of arousal soaked her tight pants.
Suddenly she locked her arm around my neck and jerked me back. Simultaneously she kicked the back of my knee. My leg buckled and I dropped to my ass in a cloud of dust.
