Corinne Calders was at the wheel of her Triumph TR-6, and tonight was the night. Her boyfriend Dave Logan had finally moved out of his parent's home and gotten an apartment all to himself, and now, they could get some hot, passionate sex going, without worrying about his parents or her parents barging in on them.
Corinne was vocal, she was a real screamer when she hit orgasm, howling and shrieking out her pleasure, and they needed their own place. She was 18, her boyfriend was 20, and they hadn't been able to get together for 2 weeks. To her overheated pussy it felt like two years. She reached down, and slipped a hand under her dress, cupping her sex gently, feeling the tingles of need starting to prickle at her inner walls.
She was more than ready. She'd gone to the Night Owl boutique, and had gotten was the saleslady referred to as a "cache sex," to Corinne, it was just a fancy French term for a G string. The white panel had a diamond pattern embroidered on it, and she bought a matching demi cup bra, that just barely covered her nipples, the scoop design made her cleavage all the more pronounced.
She had taken her new undies home, and when she stripped naked and put her things on, oh god, she'd looked hot. The panel of her cache sex just covered her vaginal opening, she was glad she'd gotten totally waxed, or else her pubic hair would have been sticking out of the top. The thin string ran right up between her ass cheeks, she got a twitchy feeling from the way it nestled against the tight rim of her virgin ass hole.
Her breasts looked stunning, the scoop design accentuated the cleavage of her 36 C chest. The sleek blackness of her long hair contrasted nicely with the snow whiteness of her undies. Her grey eyes were already smoky with need, she smiled as she put on her dress, Dave was going to be hard as a rock after she gave him a little strip tease, and the image of his hard, fat 8 inches gliding into her, made her growl with need.
*****
Officer Jim Jarvis was just finishing up his dinner at Bob's Diner. He looked up and smiled as he saw his waitress, Bettie Jo Paige, approaching. The owner of Bob's Diner had gone with a retro look, and the waitresses wore the tight, pink uniforms that had been popular back then.
Bettie Jo filled out her uniform very nicely, he loved the way her hips filled out her lower part, and the way her chest pushed out the top part. She was really put together all right, a solid body, not fat but big, Ummm, the nice wide hips, and the big, luscious melons made his cock perk up.
She was 5'11" inches tall, just an inch shorter than his 6' height, he was a sucker for tall women. He noticed, as she approached, that she had unbuttoned the top three buttons of her uniform, and she made a point to bend down towards the table, encouraging Jim to feast his eyes on the well-displayed cleavage of her 38 D chest, which Jim was happy to do.
"Is that all for today Jim honey?" she purred, her blue eyes glowing with need. "Or is there something else you'd like to have?"
The lust-fueled smile made his cock pulse, and Bettie Jo noticed the straining at his pants, oh god, it looked like Officer Jim was packing some serious heat.
"Well, I'd...Nah, I couldn't say that", he said, then with a start, realized what he was thinking he'd actually said.
She smiled, and cooed, "Well, if you want to tell me, or better yet, show me what you'd like to have, here's my number. My shift ends at 11 PM, why don't you call me at that number at oh, say 11:15, I'd love to have a strong, good-looking policeman like yourself show me exactly what you'd like to have. And I want to see your personal nightstick!"
She giggled as she quickly jotted down her phone number and address on one of her empty order blanks, and handed it over, Jim took it, he could smell the scent of her perfume on the paper, and he tucked it carefully into the shirt pocket.
He watched Bettie Jo returning to the counter area, giving her ass some extra sexy swing, he couldn't look away from what was the finest rump he'd ever seen. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, and it swayed with the rhythm of her hips. At the counter, she turned, her eyes flashing blue fire, and blew him a kiss.
Jim had a full head of steam on when he settled back into his Impala cruiser, his wife had not had sex with him for a month. Ever since their son had been born six months ago, he had to plead with her for some release, sometimes she'd just jerk him off, and then tell him to go to sleep. Actual intercourse was almost a non-happening event, these days.
He'd be off duty at 11 also, and he was going to take Bettie Jo up on her offer. The mere thought of seeing her incredible body, totally nude, made his cock throb. His wife and child were out of town for a week, even if she was home, it would be another sexless night. Fine, if she doesn't want me, Bettie Jo does, and after work, he would be riding Bettie Jo's incredible body.
He had just started up, and the Impala was ready to ease back onto the highway when that TR-6 went breezing by. He quickly took up the pursuit, and with his lightbar activated and a couple of beeps from his siren, he was relieved when he saw the car steer over to the shoulder and stop.
He had never been in a full-fledged chase, and he hoped that he never would. One of his fellow officers, Bill Smithers, had been killed 2 months ago when his cruiser was T-boned by an SUV that didn't notice the chase he was in and started through the intersection just as Bill's cruiser went through. It was one of the perils of the job.
Corinne was startled when the siren beeped behind her, and a police car's light bar lit up. She looked down at the speedometer, damn, she'd been going at 75 mph in a 60 zone. She'd always liked to drive fast, as she slowed down, and steered onto the shoulder, she felt a chill. She had two speeding tickets outstanding, damn, they issue arrest warrants when they are overdue, and sure as hell those two were overdue.
Jim noticed the model, a TR-6, a 1976 model, and it looked very well cared for, it looked in great shape. He liked the cars made by British Leyland, he owned a 1980 red MGB that he had bought when he was 18, and 12 years later, it still ran like a top, and he always felt the thrill of climbing in and just driving. The TR-6 was a nice model, painted in British racing green, very nice.
His dash cam was not working, so he radioed in, and gave them his position, and what he was about to do. He approached the car cautiously, and when he saw a female behind the wheel, he relaxed just a bit. He shined his flashlight in, and he saw a head of hair black as a raven's wing, grey eyes, and full, luscious red lips.
Corinne said, "Sorry about that officer, I was going a little faster than I should."
