Officer of the Law

Author's note: the following story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The author wishes to express his gratitude to Copperbutterfly for her editing to make this a better story.

*

Fresh out of the Sunshine state's police academy, Gene Cates was in his second day on the job. It felt like the first day because most of the real first day had been spent in paper work and listening to instructions. Then this morning at the early staff meeting, the watch sergeant had assigned him to highway patrol duty on a remote 43 mile stretch of interstate. The only redeeming factor was that lots of people traveled the route on the way to the beaches.

Of course that was also a drawback because people heading to the beaches tend to forget about little things like speed limits and safe driving. So the state patrol had their hands full. Along Gene's assigned route, there were 31 different spots where his predecessors and he could set up with their radar guns trained on traffic and cross from one side of the highway to the other.

By lunchtime, Gene had written a dozen tickets for speeders, provided protection for a family changing a flat tire on their travel trailer, and called for service for a trucker whose rig had quit too early. Now he found himself on the north end of his assigned territory so he pulled off the highway, found a little family diner and got a quick lunch.

Back on the highway, Gene pulled into the first turn-off, just a ¼ mile from the ramp where he had come on. Backing into the turnout, he set up the gun along the path of oncoming traffic and settled back to watch.

Sheesh! He had less than five minutes before the gun began to show another vehicle well over the limit. In a 70 MPH zone, this one was doing 87. Gene hit the lights just as the car passed his location. Still it took six miles to catch up and get the driver to pull off onto the wide shoulder. He parked his car in the recommended protection position, closer to traffic than the offending car. He called the dispatcher to run a make on the license plate and quickly got an all clear.

Picking up his warrant book, Gene stepped out of the car and slowly approached the other one. It was an impressive convertible sports car with the top down. From the back the driver appeared to be female - at least the long sun-bleached hair looked like female, although these days you couldn't really tell.

Gene could readily see there was no one else in the car so he stepped to the side of the driver's door and did an immediate double-take. The driver was a young blonde, probably not more than 21 or 22 and the only clothing he could see that she was wearing was a hand towel over her lap. Her breasts were completely exposed and, from the lack of tans lines, apparently spent a lot of time that way.

"License, registration and proof of insurance, please."

"What's the matter, officer?" she asked, making a show of digging in her purse.

"You were going a little fast, ma'am. In fact, I clocked you at 87 miles an hour."

"Oh? Officer, I didn't realize I was going that fast." Her voice changed to a whine. "Let me get my registration and insurance."

She leaned to the right to open the glove box, pulling the little towel up and showing a long strip of bare thigh from knee to ... hm, there was no cover at all. Then when she couldn't find the papers right away, she laid over on the right hand seat to dig into the storage area, leaving her bare bottom exposed to his eyes. The puffy swollen lips of her vagina peeked between the firm round globes. Even when he looked away to take his mind off of her, he couldn't hide his hard-on.

She sat back upright with a handful of papers and started going through them slowly. "Is this going to cost me points on my insurance, Officer?"

"I'm afraid it will, miss."

"Oh, no! I really, really can't handle any more points." She turned her baby blues to Gene with a plaintive look. "Isn't there some way we could settle this without a ticket, officer?"

Looking at her New York license, he replied, "Why, whatever do you mean, Miss Daniels?"

"Well ...," she hesitated, throwing the towel aside, "is there anything here that you like? You could have ... whatever you want, officer, if you wouldn't write me a ticket." She rubbed her hand between her spread legs.

Gene leaned over the side of the door, putting his face close to hers, staring into her eyes. "Are you trying to bribe me, Miss?"

"No, Officer. I'm just hoping that we could find a mutually agreeable solution without a ticket. Anything you think would be okay with me."

"Really? Why don't you tell me what my options are, Miss Daniels?"

"Well ... I was thinking that it might be nice if you were to let me give you a blow job ... just for starters."

"Uh, huh. I admit that sounds pretty good. And?"

"After that, you could fuck me...?!?"

"Oh? That sounds ... really good."

"And ... if you'd like ... you could then fuck my ass."

"Really? Now that would be good, I'll bet."

"Or ... you could let me fuck you ... if you'd like."

"You mean ...?"

"Yeah, me on top. I like to do that."

"And ...?"

"Oh! Would you like to play with my titties? You can suck them or you can fuck them. Whatever you like."

"And?"

"Would you like to cum on my tits? Or you could cum on my face."

"And how long ... "

"Oh, don't worry, Officer. You can take as long as you want. If you want to spend all night, that's fine with me."

"Why would you do all that for me?"

"Well ... I DO like the way you look. And I'll lose my car if I get another ticket. Please, Officer, please help me out. I promise you won't be sorry."

Gene folded his book. "Okay, this once, Miss Daniels. Go to the second exit. It's about 4 miles away. On the right, there's a nice little Day's Inn. If you're there and do what you say, I'll let you off ... this time. Okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Officer."

She was gone before he got back to his squad car and he suspected she did not stay within the speed limit. He figured she would be gone, never to be seen again, but when he pulled up at the motel, her car was sitting in front of one of the last units and she stepped into the doorway, waving for him to come down. She was wearing the skimpiest of bikinis.

"I hope you don't mind. I went ahead and checked in. I hope this room will be okay."

"I'm sure it will be fine, Miss Daniels."

"How about you call me Beth?"

"Okay, Beth. I'm Gene."

She pulled a couple of strings and tossed the bikini aside. "Let's get you out of those clothes," she said as she attacked the buttons on his uniform blouse.

The next few hours were filled with some of the most frantic sex Gene had ever experienced. She sucked him off. He ate her until she'd cum twice. He fucked her missionary style. They rested. He fucked her ass. They cleaned up and rested. He fucked her doggy style. They called in pizza for delivery. She rolled him on his back and rode his rod cowgirl style. They ate more pizza and rested. He put her legs on his shoulders and fucked her again.

It was early morning before they went to sleep. When his watch alarm went off a little later, he knew he wasn't ready for a new day but when Beth pulled her knees back by her tits, he rolled over and poked his sword into her wet sheath and fucked her again.

After a quick shower, Gene dressed, stopped at the office long enough to pick up a bagel and coffee for breakfast and headed to the station for the morning staff meeting.

The next three days were pretty routine. Gene stayed pretty busy writing tickets, mostly for speeding; helping stranded motorists; and occasionally weighing suspected overloaded semis. On the second day, he had to respond to an accident that turned out to be a minor fender bender but, the next day, the accident call was to a major four vehicle wreck with several people injured. That was a hard one because a van with several small children was involved and he had trouble sleeping that night, even though he thought all the people would pull through.

The next day was fairly routine until about 12:30, when Gene got a call about an erratic driver. When he spotted the reported vehicle, he pulled into the median and crossed over, then overtook the van that was weaving from lane to lane. He had to use the lights, siren, horn and speaker to get the driver to finally pull over. The license check came back "no wants, no warrants" but he asked for a backup.

The driver was a middle aged woman and the van carried another woman and a man, all of whom appeared to be more than a little intoxicated. It was a chore to get all three of them out of the van and onto the grassy shoulder.

The driver wanted to know, "Whyn'ell did ya stop me?"

"Ma'am, you were driving in an unsafe manner. Have you been drinking?"

"Hell, no! I ain't had nuttin' to drink in ... lessee ... " she started trying to count on her fingers but couldn't hold them steady enough to touch her finger tips together.

"No? You haven't had anything to drink today? Ma'am, you smell like alcohol."

"Hey, don' tell me I stink! You cain't tell me I stink! I got rats!"

It took him a few seconds to realize that she meant 'rights' and he almost burst out laughing. He asked her to put her hands behind her back because he was arresting her for DUI.

She took a wild swing at Gene and said, "You cain't 'rest me! I ain't done nuttin'."

He ducked her haymaker, which spun her off-balance, caught her wrists and quickly snapped the cuffs on her. He guided her to the back seat of the squad.

"Are you carrying any weapons, like guns or knives or have any needles on you?"

"I ain't tellin'," she said, her face screwing up into a pout.

The guy, who was sitting cross-legged on the grass, said, "Hey, she's got a gun. It's either in her brassiere or in her stocking."

"Ma'am, is that right? Do you have a gun?"

"I ain't telling." She turned her face away from me. "You'll jus' have ta find out for yourself."

Damn! He was in a pickle. If he searched this woman, she could claim sexual harrassment. If he didn't search her and she had a weapon, she could kill him on the way to the station. Help was still probably 20 minutes away.

The woman had big heavy breasts. It turned out she wasn't wearing a bra but those suckers could easily have concealed a small handgun. Gene decided to take a chance and lifted the right one and patted her down; then he checked the left one and found nothing but hooters. She groaned and scooted down in the seat, spreading her legs.

In a flash, Gene stuck his hand under her short skirt and there it was! Stuck in her stocking right at her crotch, it was probably a .25 caliber, small but potentially deadly. Suddenly she went from having her legs spread wide apart to clamping them together so tightly he couldn't pull his hand out. Still holding the little pistol, Gene tried to squirm his hand from between her legs, but she was just as intent on keeping his hand trapped.

Gene figured she would start to scream about being raped or something but her head was lolling back and forth uncontrollably, her eyes closed, her mouth open but no words coming out. He jerked his hand again and realized that his thumb was in her pussy. She was masturbating herself on the knuckle of his thumb. He had to admit that it didn't feel all that bad.

Suddenly she was talking in a low voice, "Oh, god, oh, god, oh, fuck oh, fuck, screw me, fuck me, oh, god, fuck me fuck me fuck me, aiiieeee!"

For several seconds she shuddered as an orgasm rolled through her body. Then her leg muscles began to ease and he extracted his hand, bringing the little gun with it.

"If I'd been laid like that last night, I wouldn'ta been drinkin' this morning, ossifer."

Just then his backup pulled up and Gene got out to brief his fellow officer and get him to transport the other two people. They would be released at the station if someone came to pick them up. In the meantime, it was agreed that he would wait for the wrecker to haul the van to the station. It might take 10 seconds, or it might take two hours.

Gene was sitting in the front seat when his passenger became restless.

"Oh, my ... oh, my ... oh, fuck."

He looked in the mirror and was surprised to see her again lolling back and forth, rubbing her legs together as best she could.

"Please ... please ... please help me ... finger fuck me ... please ... do me any way you want to ... fuck me ... finger me ... just please ... help me!"

Gee, he'd never encountered a woman in distress ... well, this kind of distress ... before now. He got out and went around the car. He opened the back door and squatted next to her.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Touch me ... fuck me ... help me cum, honey ... pleaseeeeeeeeee!"

"Would it help if I touch your breasts?"

"Yes ... yes, anything ... just touch me."

She was sitting below the sills of the windows, which were coated with a light tinting material anyway so traffic would have a hard time seeing in. He reached in and touched her right breast.

"Open the buttons, honey. Please touch my skin. It feels so much better."

Gene opened the top three buttons of her dress and her breasts were exposed. He had an urge that he couldn't resist to fondle both of them. She slumped down in the seat until she was almost laying flat.

"Come on, honey, suck me. I know you want to and I want you to. Please suck me."

Gene bent over the woman and took a huge nipple in his mouth. He began sucking and she began opening and closing her legs and moaning her approval. When he slipped one hand between her legs, she slammed them as wide apart as she could get in the confines of the car. He found her pussy to be soaking wet and she welcomed his finger into her channel. In fact he added a second and a few seconds later a third and she seemed very appreciative.

For several minutes, Gene sucked her extra large nipple while his fingers frantically fucked in and out of her pussy. He made sure to occasionally rub her fully engorged clit and listened to her lustful words of encouragement. He caught a glimpse of a flashing amber light and looked up to see their wrecker on the other side of the freeway and knew it would soon be pulling up. He redoubled his efforts ... and was happy when she climaxed hard against his fingers. Quickly he buttoned her dress and helped her sit upright.

"Thank you, honey. You don't know how much I needed that. Oh, and I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble earlier. You have been such a gentleman!"

After that, Gene hated to take her in but really had no alternative. He knew she would be out soon. After he'd put her in the holding cell, the sergeant sniffed around him and said, "Officer, what

have

you been into?"

Gene ignored him, finished his report, and hit the road again.

Two days later, he finished his shift, completed his daily report and headed home. Along the way, he decided to stop for dinner at a small diner so he wouldn't have to scrounge up something at home.

The place Gene picked was a typical greasy spoon with one aisle, tables along the window, booths on the inside, and a waitress working mostly along the space between the booths and the open cooking area. He picked the last booth in the place and slid into the bench that rested against the back wall. That let him see everyone in the place. Before long, he noticed that it also let him watch the shapely young waitress as she hustled back and forth.

And anybody who didn't appreciate the swishing way her hips moved had to be dead or at least comatose. She was wearing a little dress with a deep V cut in front showing at least a third of her nicely shaped boobs, a skirt that ended no lower than halfway between her ass and her knees, and a dainty little white apron that served no real purpose. When she walked away from him, her bottom moved like squirrel cage with two hyperactive adult squirrels. Yeah, Gene knew he stared.

She'd only made one trip away from him to pick up a pot of fresh coffee, then came to his booth with a smile that glistened with straight white teeth. He nodded and she poured coffee into a clean mug.

"Hi. My name is Sally. What can I do for you?"

"Well ... what do you recommend?"

"Me!"

He looked up at her smiling, "I meant to eat."

"I did too."

"Then I'll remember that," he replied.

She leaned over toward his ear, also giving him a great view of more of her boobs, and whispered, "I'm not supposed to say this but this cook does breakfast better than anything."

"Okay, good. Then give me a western omelette with wheat toast and hash browns."

"Okay, and a side of grits? That's part of our house special."

"Sounds good ... but not as good as you."

Sally smiled and hurried off. I could have sworn that the swing in her rear was even more pronounced.

There were not a lot of customers in the place at the time. Maybe there never were. Sally poured a cup of coffee after checking on those up front and came back to stand beside me, leaning against the back wall.

"It's been a slow week so far."

"Really? Not a lot of visitors on the way to the beaches?"

"No, I guess we're too far from the water to be popular. These are mostly regulars."

Sally caught the signal from the short order cook and hurried up the aisle but was soon back with a platter of his food, a plate of toast, and the ever-present coffee pot. Gene set about eating while she went to make the rounds of the other customers. Every time she finished, she would come back to stand beside him and make small talk.

There was a little lull in the conversation as he finished eating and before he asked, "When you get off, is it home to hubby and the kids?"

She giggled, "Nope! Not married. No kids. I live alone."

"Oh? Can I buy you dinner or a drink, maybe?"

She giggled again, "Honey, you're already having dinner and I'm not much for drinking. Hey, I do have a little wine at home. How about giving me a ride home and you can share the bottle with me, huh?"

"I'd like that. When do you get off?"

She glanced at her watch. "In about 35 minutes."

"Good. I'll just wait then."

A little later when he held the door to the squad open, Sally exclaimed that it was the first time she had ridden in any police car. She was fascinated on the short drive to her place with the extra equipment around the front dashboard.

Her place was a small house on the fringes of the small town. She ushered him into the living room and waved for him to take seat, telling him to take off his shoes and make himself comfortable. She disappeared into the kitchen, coming back a couple of minutes later with two glasses of chilled wine.

"Here, relax. I've been on my feet all day and I'm gonna change. There's some CD's there if you want to put on some music."

She disappeared down a short hall. Gene was surprised to see that she had more classical music than anything so he picked one of his favorites, Ravel's Bolero, and slid it into the changer. Soon the room was filled with soft music. He sat back, stretched out his legs and closed his eyes.

He almost didn't hear her come back into the room, but the soft brush of bare feet against carpet caught his attention. When he looked up, he beheld a vision - she was dressed in a white blouse unbuttoned but tied just below her bust line, tight Spandex shorts that covered just the necessities, and nothing else other than a smile.

"Here, sugar, we can't have you looking so stiff and formal," she said as she placed one bent leg on one side of him and then straddled him. He felt a surge of excitement as her bottom settled on his crotch while her hands went to his collar.

Sally worked his tied lose, gradually pulling on the ends until it came apart. Her gentle hands unbuttoned his collar button and moved down to the next button, She didn't stop until she reached his belt, by which time he knew she could feel the probing of his hard cock pushing against her lush bottom.