The Officer and the Girl

"Mom, I got the job! I'm going to be working in the city!" I exclaimed into the cell phone. I was on my way back to my home in a small rural town, navigating my little red car through the streets of an unfamiliar suburb outside the city. I'd been working on finding work in my field for quite sometime now, after I graduated college, and had finally found I a job that I'd knew that I would love.

"Congratulations honey! I knew you could do it! I'm so proud of you," my mother gushed into the phone. She knew how much trouble it had been for me to find a job. Even though I enjoyed being a newlywed housewife, I desperately wanted to get out of the house. As my mother continued on, I thought about how I was finally going to get a chance to meet new people and party with them in all of those big clubs in the city. Besides the job opportunity, it was a chance for me to stretch my wings a little bit and give my husband and I some much needed alone time. I felt like we were spending every waking moment together and in the short time since we'd been married, we were quickly running out of things to say.

All of a sudden, I saw red and blue lights flashing behind me, glaring brightly into my rear window and into the dark night.

"Mom, I'm being pulled over. I have to go."

I quickly closed the phone, and with it still in my right hand, I pulled off of the road into a dark and empty parking lot. Everything that I had always heard about being pulled over by the police told me that you are never supposed to do that, but fear always wins and I forgot all of those precautions.

I shut off the engine, put on my flashing lights and rolled down the window. The officer took a few minutes to reach my car and my nervous hands were shaking, gripping tightly to the steering wheel and my cell phone. I heard the officer open his car door and walk towards mine, his steps crunching on the gravel. Every slow step had my heart beating harder and faster until I thought it was going to pound out of my chest.

Suddenly, just as he was nearing my car, I realized that my phone was still in my hand and I moved quickly to throw it into my purse. I was afraid the officer would find out that I was driving and talking on the cell phone at the same time, which is illegal in my state. The officer saw this and withdrew his gun, thinking that I was reaching for one as well, shining his light directly in my eyes.

"Ma'am, keep your hands where I can see them! Now! Both hands on the wheel."

I obeyed his every word, my heart racing and I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. 'He thinks I have a gun,' I thought.

"Officer, I was just putting my cell phone into my purse. I swear! I.. I ..." I was just starting to ramble about how I'm afraid of guns and would never use one in my life, even if I had to, when he barked at me to be quiet. Blood was rushing through my head, my eyes were blinded, my palms were sweaty, and my knees were shaking so hard, I was sure he noticed.

Slowly, I began to realize that the flashlight's beam was being taken off of my eyes. I looked down and noticed that he was aiming the light directly at the lacey edge of my black tank top that was stretched tightly across of my small but perky breasts. I wasn't sure if it was an accident or purposeful until he said, "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the car slowly and place your hands on the roof of the car."

Carefully, I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the door as he took a small step backwards, and stepped out of the car, one foot at a time. Even though I was trying to be careful, I was sure he could see a flash of my pink panties from under my skirt, but I did not want to make any sudden movements to cover myself or he might get suspicious again. I did as he asked, after I slowly closed my driver's side door. I spread my hands on the roof and looked downward, letting a single tear of fright fall down my cheek.

"Ma'am, I believe that you have a weapon and I am going to have to search you. Please spread your arms and legs far apart," he said and I heard him put his gun back into the holster, the flashlight's beam shining from behind me, casting shadows onto my car.

"Do you have any weapons that you are hiding from me?" he asked, reaching down to feel my entire leg, ankle to thigh.

"No... sir. I don't like guns. I'm afraid of them. I don't have anything on me," I said haltingly. Suddenly, I exclaimed, "Ooh!"

His cold hands had reached the warmth of my inner thighs, but he didn't seem to notice my excitement. I, however, instantly felt another rush of heat from inside me. He reached down for the left ankle, his hands traveling up to my other thigh, except this time, as he was searching me, I felt his index finger brush along the inside seam of my panties. Quickly, he grazed the left side of my softness and immediately I became extremely turned on.

The officer's large hands then reached around to the outside of my skirt, feeling my bottom and around my hips. He searched up to my armpits and, just what I was afraid of, started fondling my breasts. My breath quickened and I was sure he could smell my scent from under my skirt. But suddenly, with my intake of breath, I recognized another familiar smell. Something similar to sweat and cologne, a smell I'd know anywhere.

Just as the officer began to feel my small, outstretched arms, I whispered, "Carson?"

The officer's hands stopped cold and tightened on my shoulders. I knew I was right. I raised my head and looked for a street sign, anything to let me know where I was located. I wasn't sure but I think I was in a borough of the city where my husband's best friend lived. His best friend - who was a police officer in the city.

I felt the officer's face move in closer to my ear, nuzzling in my hair, while his hips slowly pushed my body into the car. He lowered the flashlight and whispered, "Hey. It's me. And you've been very naughty."

He flipped my small frame with one hand to face him, and in the soft street light, I knew it was Carson. I had known Carson for 5 years, from the time when he was my boyfriend's roommate; my fiancé's drinking buddy, and my husband's co-worker. I knew he worked in this neighborhood, but had forgotten while I was speeding through those quiet, dark streets. Apart from being my husband's best friend, Carson was also my confidante and drinking partner as well, and, for one brief night, my lover.

I could see the outline of his jaw shift slightly and the glint in his eye brighten as he saw me finally recognize him. His hands were holding me under my chest now, holding tightly as my nervous trembling turned into an intense sexual tension that made me shudder slightly. Quickly, he grabbed hold of each of my elbows and turned me again, this time to my right. He slid his strong and manly fingers down my lower arms and clasped my wrists together with one hand, while he reached for his handcuffs at the back of his utility belt. His dark eyes flashed a mischievous look and his mouth became a devilish grin. I stared directly into his face, trying to read him, wondering if we were going to have another chance to finish what we started two years ago.

As he began to silently fasten the cold, black and chrome handcuffs to my wrists, my mind instantly flew back to the last time we'd had sex. It was the last day of finals and Carson was due to graduate soon. I drove up from my small college town for the night to help my fiancé pack and move out of his dorm room. Carson and several of our other friends met us at a local bar to celebrate the end of final exams and, after several drinks, I started to flirt with him. We had joked for months about getting together, having a threesome, or switching partners with his own girlfriend and, that night, I wanted to make it something more. I began to whisper naughty things into his ear, secretly suggesting that he meet me in the bathroom for whatever may happen. Throughout the night and after several drinks, I would run to the bathroom, silently praying that he would walk into the unlocked single stall and make love to me up against the cold, tiled wall. And each time, after I would finish, I would be so upset when I realized that he hadn't come to meet me.

Just as we were about to leave, I left the bathroom and saw Carson out of the corner of my eye, waiting for me in the shadows of the darkened dining room next to the bar. He motioned for me to come over and then held me close, tilting his head ever so slightly and said, "I talked to Andrew and asked him if I could kiss you. Do you want this?" I didn't even have to answer; I knew he could tell my response. I rose up on the balls of my feet to meet his lips and sank down slowly with the satisfaction that he had been catching my signals all night long and was interested too. After a few minutes, I broke away for fear that our friends would find us.

But soon after, as we were finalizing our bar tabs, I realized that Carson was standing the in shadows of the dining room and motioning for me again. I stole towards him and he quickly pulled me deeper into the room, furiously kissing me and grabbing at my body. I tried to break away again and, to stop me, he asked, "Do you want me to come over tonight? I've been talking to him and I think he wants to."

Excited at the dangerous possibility of our casual flirtations finally taking form, my eyes widened and I nodded, because my words were taken away. I reached up to kiss him again and after a few more torrid moments, I realized that our friends were looking for us and that it was time to go home.

We piled into my old station wagon, and after a few exchanged words about who should sit in the passenger seat, Carson finally threw himself into the backseat directly behind me. I was glad that my fiancé decided to drive us home because he was definitely the most sober of us all. After a few moments of talking about the events of the evening, I realized that Carson's hand was reaching at me from behind, grabbing at my right breast. I was afraid that my fiancé would notice, but I realized that he was so caught up talking and continuing a conversation with Carson to even notice. As his hands felt my thin top and his mouth licked my ear, he talked as if nothing was going on, even though I was getting more and more turned on.

My fiancé dropped Carson off at his building and my heart sank as my backseat fondler left, cell phone in hand, to talk to his girlfriend before bed. We parked in front of my fiancé's building, crookedly walked into his room, laughing and thoroughly feeling the effects of the alcohol. My fiancé started stripping me of my smoky clothes, laid me out on his small dorm bed in a pair of white cotton boy-briefs and began seducing me.

I asked him if Carson was coming over, like he had talked about, which quickly led to a fight. Suddenly, he appeared at the ground window asking to be let into the room. I covered my half-naked body with a sheet and my fiancé opened the window to let him crawl in. A few seconds of small talk later, Carson asked, "So, how are we going to do this?"

And even though I knew that my fiancé was getting cold feet, I played along and tried to entice him into having a threesome with us. It was amazingly sexy as I laid out Carson on the small bed and began playing with him with my small, wet tongue. My fiancé took off my panties and began making love to me from behind, but our night of drinking alcohol was taking its toll and the sensuality was losing its effect. I, however, was still extremely excited by the thought of having two men making love to me, caressing me, and kissing me and tried to keep things going until we ended in a "sandwich" with both men rubbing me slowly.

All of a sudden, my fiancé ran out of the room to use the bathroom and Carson flipped me from my side onto my back, looked me dead in the eye and, even though we'd agreed not to have sex, said to me, "Do you want this?"

Before I could even say yes, he shoved my thighs apart and entered me. For a few minutes, it was sheer ecstasy and in an effort to finish before my fiancé came back from the bathroom, Carson pulled away from me and climaxed onto my stomach. The door to the room suddenly opened to us cleaning ourselves quietly, and Carson dressed quickly and left.

I was so disappointed and clearly wanted more that night. But in many other talks with my fiancé over the passing months, it seemed clear to me that it was never going to happen again. I know there were feelings of guilt, shame, and regret that hung over our three heads on the day of our wedding but there was also a sense of longing that I felt just before I walked down the aisle. Carson came by to make sure everything was going well and before he left, he looked me over in my sleeveless, bias-cut wedding dress and twitched his eyebrow in approval. I knew, then and there, that one day we were going to finish what we had started.

And on this night, I think that is exactly what Officer Smith wanted.

He led me into the back of his cruiser, shoving me gently into the back seat and shutting the door quickly. I sat there with my legs accidentally splayed open, my wrists bound behind my back, and my eyes wide with anticipation.

Carson took off his hat and opened the driver's side door, sat down in the seat and turned to look at me. With a sly smile he said, "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to take you in for an extensive search. Why don't you just sit back--," he glanced at the flash of pink between my legs and looked up again, his cocky smile growing bigger, "and relax."

The officer began to put the car in motion but soon stopped behind a building in the parking lot that left the car in complete darkness, and not visible from the road or anyone else. He jumped out of the car and opened my door again, this time crawling in to sit next to me. I slid over a little bit to make room for his long legs, thinking about how much he had changed since the first time I knew him. In college, Carson was a heavy smoker and drinker, who was also big boned with a goatee and a full head of curly hair. Now, thanks to the police academy, his body had slimmed down considerably, his hair was now a very short crew cut and his face was now clean shaven with just a hint of scratchy five o'clock shadow showing along his strong jaw.

My husband's best friend leaned into me and started nibbling on my neck, pushing my long blond hair out of the way. I leaned away at first and then, accepting his advances, slowly pushed my upper body closer into him.

I asked, "Why are you doing this?"

And without missing a beat, Carson breathed into my ear, "Because I want you and you are mine now."

"How did you know I was driving by?"

"I just knew you were here. I know you. Now shut up," he began tracing his long fingers along the curve of my chest, "and lean forward so I can take these handcuffs off."

Grateful to have the cuffs off, I leaned forward as he instructed, giving him a perfect view of my cleavage. He release one of my hands and just as I was starting to shake off the feeling in my hand, he quickly grabbed it again along with my other one and forced my arms above my head, attaching my restraints to a bar above the window.

In shock, I opened my mouth but was quickly silenced by another swift move. He placed a finger to my lips and said, "Shh. Just let me do whatever I want to you and I won't have to give you a citation for speeding and talking on your cell phone. Agreed?"

I bit my lip and stared with wide eyes full of anticipation into his. He lifted my skirt with one hand, searching for my panties and with another hand; he lowered the edge of my tank top and leaned in to kiss my bare chest. Carson found what he was looking for under my thin panties and sweetly began to caress my already dripping soft opening. He began to torture me for minutes, while I could do nothing but let him take me.

In another quick but purposeful movement, he unzipped his navy uniform pants, pushed my legs apart and ripped away my underwear. He entered me with such satisfaction that I knew I couldn't have said no. In an instant, he filled me and I could feel his member deep inside of me, hitting places that no man had ever been able to reach before. I could feel the cold metal of his open zipper along my inner thighs and, as I positioned my trembling legs around his hips, I knew that the same gun he had pointed at me earlier was now under my calf. As scared as I was of it before, I now no longer cared and took thrill in the fact that I was wrapped so tightly around him that I could feel everything that he was wearing and everything that he was feeling.

I moaned in pure excitement as I felt him deep within me and, for a brief moment, was afraid that I was making too much noise. But Carson didn't care. After a few minutes of pounding my small frame, he reached for his keys once again and released one of my hands. I took initiative this time and sprang up, causing him to sit up against the seat. I climbed on top of him, feeling braver this time, and with a slight tug at his pants I revealed his bulging thickness.

Before I climbed on top of him, I leaned down and took him into my mouth, cleaning off all of our juices. His head instantly lay backwards and he squeezed his eyes shut in delight. I had seen that look only once before and knew that if I went only a little more, that he would climax. I lowered my mouth as far as I could, letting it touch the back of my throat and with a final twist of my tongue, raised my head and positioned my body over his.

I lowered myself onto him, letting myself ride. Raising my arms above my head, I let him take off my tank and cast it aside, allowing him full access to kiss and suck my breasts. I bounced harder and faster at this, our eyes shut tight with both pain and pleasure. I came quickly, shuddering with the feeling of him stretching me so deep. Our breathing was intense and, without thinking, I exclaimed, "Oh yes, Carson, yes. I'm there. Don't stop! Oh God, don't stop!"

This brought him over the edge and he threw me against the other side of the seat and climaxed on my bare stomach, shooting his warmth all over my dewy skin. He sighed, still breathing heavily and reached over to hold my hand. Using my torn underwear, he cleaned himself, and then me, and then leaned over to give me a long, penetrating kiss. The feel of his soft mouth and tongue against mine, but with a roughness of his stubble was another mixture of pain and pleasure we both enjoyed.

I lay there for a few more moments, thinking about all of our previous conversations about how much I missed him and wanted him again. Carson would tell me about how special that night two years ago meant to him and how, if he could, he would do so many other things to make it even better. I had always thought of Carson as my own best friend, and would often call him "My second boyfriend" or "My second husband." He would come back to visit us every once in a while, and the slightest touch or sideways glance would bring me back to that moment when he first asked me, "Do you want this?" Those words would stick with me forever and I always wanted to tell him, "Oh God, yes, please!"

We had finally got our wish and, after a few minutes of recovery, he began pulling at my skirt again. After throwing it to the side, we were ready to go again. And I didn't even care that I had a husband waiting for me in our small home many miles away. Or a mother waiting for me to call her back and let her know that I was alright. I was extremely empowered, feeling like a sexy, young woman again instead of a plain housewife. He was able to bring me to places that I had never been able to experience, and without an outward love or proposal of commitment, I knew that this sex was exactly what I had needed and what we both craved.