Jaime Pressly, one of Hollywood's hottest young stars was taking her shower. She was humming a tune by Mandy Moore: Someday we'll know/Why Samson loved Delilah/One day I'll go/Dancing on the moon/Someday you'll know/That I was the one for you...
Soon, she stepped out of the shower and towel dried herself. Looking at the mirror she smiled at the foxy reflection of her nudity. No wonder men flock to her like bees.
Jaime slipped on her white cotton panties and standard policewoman's bra and the white undershirt. Then she sat down in front of the dressing mirror. She tied her blonde hair in a neat bun and applied on make-up but not as much as to go beyond her natural beauty. She's beautiful enough even without it. But today is special.
She walked to her bed and started wearing her police uniform, a smart blue NYPD. She saw to it that all the equipment were in place, like the badge, whistle, handcuffs, 9 mm pistol, cartridges, a folder for traffic tickets and nightstick. Lastly, she put on her cap and took one last look of herself and made a shooting with a gun gesture with her hands. Finally she was out of the house and drove off in a cop's motorcycle.
An hour later, just about sun down she spotted a guy suspiciously trying to break into an empty house at Sherman Oaks. Jaime watched him closely behind an oak tree. The guy was darting his eyes left and right. She pulled her 9mm from the holster and cocked it. She waited with bated breath until he was able to open the door. He looked quickly behind his back just checking out if there's someone who had seen him and broke in. Apparently, he didn't see her. The neighborhood was quiet.
When he got inside, she dashed towards the house and kicked the door open and shouted: "Hey freeze!" She caught him on his way upstairs. Pinlights and lamps were on so she could see him visibly. She aimed the gun at him. "Put your fucking hands behind your head," she barked. He was startled and stopped. "Now step down and don't try to make any funny move, or I'll blow your ass to kingdom come."
The man in sleeveless shirt and Levi's got down. "Now face the wall, you jack-ass jerk and press your hands on the wall" she ordered, her gun aimed obliquely to his head. He hesitated. He is a lean, long-haired muscular guy with a five-o'clock shadow and looked at her with mesmerizing eyes.
"Officer, if you could just let me go, I haven't stolen anything yet. I promise I won't do this thing again all right?" He said, cajoling her.
"Screw your ass, you've just stolen a car parked right outside in front. Now lean far forward against the wall and spread your feet."
"But..."
"Shut up and just do it!" she barked and searched him for weapons. She found a knife. She jammed her foot in front of him so she could trip him if he tried to run. Quickly she put a handcuff with her left hand and attached the second handcuff until his hands were fastened behind his back.
"Any minute now the back up squads would be here. You had nowhere to run now. The station radioed me about the stolen vehicle and I followed you here."
"You're a pretty cop, aren't you?"
"I know that and a damn good one," she answered.
"What are you doing officer?" the man said wondering aloud why the hell she was unbuttoning his Levi's.
"Shut up! You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can or may be used against..." Her voice broke off. She found he wasn't wearing underwear.