The Traffic Stop 2

Marcia took her favorite route home that night. The one along the secluded back road where she could press her Eclipse's accelerator pedal to the floor, and just let it go. Marcia loved the feeling of the air rushing by, as she drove along the deserted two-lane with her windows down and her long, raven hair flowing around her.

She hit that long stretch of straight roadway and eased her car just past 90 or so. God, she loved the feeling of speed. She felt that little tingle at her sex, and the small brown nipples punctuating her round, 34C breasts hardened. Her car stereo pounded out a beat that thumped at her chest, caressing her body.

She had dressed provocatively for the evening, not only for the cocktails at her favorite nightspot, but for this drive as well. As she tooled along the road, the thin material of the tight black mini dress clung to her. Her spiked heels and the fact that she wore no stockings, no bra and only a filmy, white thong invigorated her this night. It was just past midnight when she left the bar, where she had felt all those eyes on her smooth, tanned legs. Her stilettos had accentuated her legs.

She had felt so naughty, when that older guy, perhaps married and probably closing in on fifty, had ogled her. He had not been able to take his eyes off of Marcia, she remembered. Even though she sat amongst her girlfriends, each who were attractive in their own rights, the gentleman at the bar, well dressed and obviously well to do, had been smiling at Marcia, winking at Marcia, not the others. Marcia giggled a little, as she drove. The look on the older man's face when she had casually crossed her long, lithe legs just so, and in doing so flashed a little of the conspicuously bright material of her thong. The lighting in the bar, Marcia was certain, had made the material utterly glow.

The thought caused Marcia's hand to stray from the gearshift to her inner thigh, then upwards. The soft, warm flesh beckoned her fingers closer to her sex. It was so soft, yet so firm there. Just as the long, sculpted nail of her fingertip touched the soft wetness of her folds covered only by the thin material of her thong, red and blue flashing lights appeared in her rearview.

"Oh shit," Marcia cried, her voice still husky from the sexiness of her thoughts and the ache of her need. "What is a cop doing all the way out here?" As she said the last under her breath, she realized, even as she slowed her speeding red sports car to the side of the road, her middle finger was still idly stroking her folds through the cloth of her underwear. Only the fact that she needed to downshift to keep from stalling her little car caused her to remove her hand from herself.

As the police car came to a stop behind her, a spotlight was flashed into her passenger compartment. The effect of it blinded her, as she fumbled in her purse for her license, her registration and just for good measure, a breath mint.

Marcia's heart was beating wildly, as the cop approached. She could not see him, but she could hear the faint crackle of his radio coming slowly closer. Soon, she was able to hear his footfalls in the gravel at the shoulder of the road.

The next moment, a strong beam from the cop's flashlight removed the last of her ability to see. She could only hear his voice. It was a deep, smooth voice. The blinding light coupled with the slow, measured tone made the voice seem disembodied.

"Evening, Sergeant Sample, Haven County Sheriff's Office. The reason you have been stopped is that you were traveling 93 miles per hour in a 65 mile per hour zone. Is there a reason you were driving so fast?" the ethereal voice asked. Marcia noticed, as he spoke, the circle of light at the end of the beam moved about the tight confines of passenger compartment of her Eclipse. She noticed, also, that when the survey of her car interior had ended, the bright circle had surveyed her. The beam had flashed down at her shoes, and had slowly been drawn up, pausing, she noted, at the flesh of her thighs. The position of her seat and the act which she had been starting, as she was stopped, had caused the hem of her mini dress, which had barely covered her to begin with, to ride up just below the crotch of her panties, which were more than a little soaked from her wicked thoughts and her digital strokes.

Marcia could almost feel the beam, as it ascended up her athletic body. Again, she noticed a pause, perhaps only a fleeting moment but a distinct pause nonetheless, at the plunging neckline of the dress. The fact that she was being mentally undressed by some county mountie who was likely to give her a costly ticket both incensed and, strangely aroused her. It even scared her a bit, truth be told. Her she was, alone on a deserted two lane county road, with an armed man who was obviously appraising her body for only God knew what.

"Miss, are you okay?" the tone remained the same. She could hear the cop's boots shift in the gravel beside and behind her. The sound shook her from her musings.

"Um, oh yes, uh s-sir. I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous." It was not a lie. She had been driving almost thirty miles over the speed limit. Also, this was not going to be her first traffic ticket by no means. In fact, a ticket like this might put her over her points. What the hell was she going to do if she could not drive for 60 days?

Mutely, Marcia handed her license and registration over to Sgt. Sample. She noticed that the hand taking her paperwork was covered in black leather. A shiver went up and down her spine. Nervously, her soft, pink tongue darted out and wet her pouty, red lips. Just at that moment, she felt an acute sense of horror, as she remembered the remnants of the joint she had smoked on this very roadway two night before was sitting at the edge of her partially open ashtray. Suddenly, her delicate hands began shaking. Marcia brought them to the steering wheel to stop the shaking.

"Is this your current address, Miss?" the cop asked. Marcia leaned forward towards her steering wheel, pretending to only be turning towards the cop to see better, but in reality, she was hiding her half-open ashtray, and at least, she hoped she was, anyway. She replied that indeed, her address had not changed

With that, the deputy told her to remain in her car. He returned to his own, out of sight, and Marcia breathed a brief sigh of relief. Now, she was hoping it would only be the ticket. She could not bear to think what her parents and her boss at her new job would think if she was arrested for drug possession. She feared she would likely be fired. Mr. Hannity did not seem the type who approved of such behavior in the least.

It seemed like hours, but was probably less than five minutes when the deputy returned to her window. Marcia again turned awkwardly sideways to block the cop's view of her ashtray and craned her neck to look up at him. For the first time, she realized the size of him. He was huge, she thought. Probably over six-four, she guessed. She could see nothing else, except that his arms were thick and muscled, his shoulders wide. In an instant, she felt so small. She was only five-two, and that was only if she cheated a bit.

"Miss, would step from the car, please?" the cop asked, though it was nothing short of a demand, Marcia knew. Her bottom lip quivered, as she fumbled for the door handle. She was a little startled when the door opened, seemingly of its own accord. Her faculties slowly gathering, she realized the big cop had opened her door for her.

Stepping from her car, she felt the bottom of her dress creep up, surely exposing her panty-covered, shaved mound to the deputy. He stepped back so that Marcia could exit the Eclipse. He ordered her to walk to the back of her car, and she complied in a daze. Marcia had already begun to decide what she would say to her parents. Mentally, she also began to compose her resignation letter at the company. She could only hope that this arrest would not follow her the rest of her life. She was only twenty-two, and her future, which had been so bright, was dimming by the second.

The deputy had slipped his flashlight into its carrier. The sound of metal on metal made a distinctive "shling," as it slipped downward in the ring. Finally, Marcia got a glimpse of the man who had her future in his gloved hands. He was indeed massive. He was wide at the shoulders and small at the waist. From the size and tone of his arms, it was obvious he had spent a lot of time at the gym. Marcia, in spite of her situation, could not take her eyes from his arms and thick chest upon which a bright silver, star shaped badge glinted in the glow from the squad car's spotlight.

"So, tell me about the roach in your ashtray," The big deputy said. There was no anger in his voice. There was no accusatory tone. In fact, it was almost a monotone. It was as if he had asked this question a thousand times, and perhaps, Marcia reasoned, he had.

The question itself made Marcia's legs turn to jelly under her. She felt herself become dizzy. Afraid she was going to fall, she reached behind her for support, but was she was just out of reach of the back of her Eclipse. As she was slipping backward, the loose gravel giving way under her four-inch heels, she could only wonder how this night could get any worse, any faster.

Just as Marcia became convinced she was going to end up squarely on her round, shapely ass, A large, gloved hand gripped her left arm, steadying her. The deputy easily took command of Marcia's 106-pound frame and held her until she regained her balance.

"Hey, hey there," Sgt. Sample said, almost laughing, as he steadied Marcia. "This is nothing to bust your back end for, Miss." His grip loosened around her upper arm, as Marcia gathered her composure. She felt her eyes welling with tears. Please, God, do not let me cry in front of this cop, she prayed silently.

"Listen, Miss," the deputy began, pausing to look down at Marcia's license, "Granger. I'm not going to bust you for dope, if all you have is a roach. I have way better things to do than spend time on an arrest report for two tokes."

Marcia dabbed at her eyes with the backs of her knuckles, as her prospects were beginning to look up. She knew the roach was all she had. She had gotten the joint from Gayle, her best friend. Marcia never had more than that on her, ever. "Officer, I swear, that's all there is. I don't even smoke much, just once in a blue moon."

Laughing, as he shook his head. The deputy moved a little, and Marcia, for the first time, could make out his face. He was very nice looking, perhaps about forty or so, but very well conditioned for his age. He had tightly cropped dark hair with a hint of gray at his temples. Had it not been for that, he might have passed for thirty, Marcia guessed.

"Bad time for a blue moon, huh," he smirked. Normally, the tone of his voice might have put her off, but he was so good-natured about it, that Marcia could not help but smile.

"I suppose so," Marcia replied looking away. As her eyes moved downward, Marcia could not help but spy a sizable bulge at the deputy's crotch. Even in his dark green uniform, it was evident. The bulge pressed at his trousers, at the top of his left thigh. Marcia felt a slight tremor, as she saw it poised there. Her mind flashed to it throbbing there. She felt the need to reach out and touch it---grip it---free it. Shocked at her thoughts, Marcia brought her eyes to the pavement at her feet, yet she could not help but steal one more glance.

"I tell you what, Miss Granger. You don't look to me like a doper. You do look like a career speeder, but so was I at your age," Sample began. His tone was fatherly, scolding but not exceedingly so. His voice was caressed Marcia's senses, as he spoke. His tone was caring, she thought. Her blue eyes looked up into his. His were gray, she saw. They drew her into him. She felt herself stepping forward to be closer to him. A deep breath soaked in the scent of his masculine cologne. Her tongue darted out once more and slipped wetly over hip lips.

Sgt. Sample paused, obviously noticing Marcia move closer. There was a soft sigh from him, about which Marcia found herself trying to decide the meaning. Then he continued, "I checked your driving history, and you can't afford another ticket. To be honest, I was on my way home, but I just can't let someone fly down the road at close to a hundred without stopping to find out what their hurry is."

Marcia stepped silently closer, mesmerized by his voice, his body and that thick thing between his legs that seemed to grow by the moment within the confines of his trousers. She was so close to him now---so close to it.

She could not believe what she was doing. Marcia Granger had had a grand total three lovers. Her high school sweetheart, Greg, an anonymous encounter with a college guy two days after Greg broke her heart and, of course, Gayle. Now, she was coming onto a cop in the middle of nowhere.

As she wondered what her deep, dark urges might cause her to do, Marcia heard the deep, smooth voice trail off. In the silence, there was only the gentle evening breeze that could be heard above their breathing and Marcia's own pounding heart.

"Uh, that would be assault under most circumstances, Marcia." The sound of her first name coming from the deputy's full lips brought Marcia back to her senses, Once there, Marcia was stunned to find that her small hand was pressed firmly to Sgt. Sample's thick bulge. As he spoke, her hand had softly caressed it. And yes, it throbbed hard between her fingers and thumb. As she gripped it, it lurched in her hand.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," Marcia said, flabbergasted at her own act. She started to withdraw her hand, but his immense gloved hand covered hers, holding it hard to his throbbing cock separated from her diminutive hand by only a bit of cloth.

Marcia looked up into the deputy's steel gray eyes. They locked with hers, as if to bore into her. She could feel him in her soul. Her hand alternately gripped the bulge and released. Marcia started to say something. Her soft lips parted, yet she had no words. Leaning forward, Sample's lips pressed to hers, his eyes still holding her gaze. Only when she felt his tongue forcefully push past her lips did her eyes close.

The kiss they shared in that moment, alone on that deserted county road on a late summer night, was exhilarating. His hand moved from hers, and he pulled Marcia to him. His powerful arms seemed on the verge of crushing her. In her heart, she knew that this man could take what he wanted, regardless of whether Marcia wished it. Her small hand now pawed at his member, sliding up and down its length.

Marcia's tongue mingled with Sample's. His lips were surprisingly soft against hers and extraordinarily inviting. Her free hand slipped down between then and joined with the other. They now worked in concert at the lawman's zipper. His duty belt made access problematic, but not so much so that retrieving her prize was impossible. In no time, her small hand slipped within his open fly, her fingers now played at the fly of his boxers.

Finally, their passionate kisses approaching desperation, Her fingers slipped around the shaft of his meaty cock. Marcia let a moan escape into his mouth, as she felt the girth of it. Even though Sample's cock was easily nine inches in length, she knew if she was too describe it, she would say that it was thicker than it was long. Neither of the men, actually mere boys if truth be told, she had welcomed within her had even approached the size of this massive thing that pulsed in her hands as if enraged. Marcia's fingers slipped over the thick, purple head that was the size of a small fist. She was greeted with the slickness of the cop's precum.

Marcia broke the kiss and looked down between them, as she coaxed Sample's cock from his uniform trousers. She let out an audible sigh, as her gaze came upon it that very first time. "Oh God," was all she could manage to say.

Sample whispered to her. "Over here," he said. His hands on her hips, he guided her over to a grassy area beside the road. Though the lights of the patrol car were only a scant few feet away, the spot where they settled was bathed in darkness. Only slivers of light danced over them.

Forcefully, yet with a gentleness belying his size, Sample pressed Marcia to her knees. There, looking down into her eyes once more, Sample whispered, "You know what to do, don't you, Marcia?" He smiled down to her, as he literally towered above her.

Marcia's eyes remained transfixed in his stare, as her lips parted and slipped over the head of his cock. Her dainty tongue flicked underneath the notch of the magnificent mushroom head and then over, lapping up another healthy dollop of precum which seemed to now flow from the opening. Both of her hands gripped the enormous shaft, fingers not coming close to linking with thumbs.

With both hands gripping from the base of the thing, Marcia found that there was still much of his cock left exposed. Marcia's lips, spread to their utmost, closed the distance, until her lips touched the side of her left hand. As her tongue slithered over the underside of his engorged meat, she heard a deep moan elicit from Sample. His large hands gripped her head, guiding her back and forth upon his cock.

Removing her left hand, unsure that she just how far she was capable of descending. Uncertain of exactly how much she could devour of this seemingly unending length of thick, meaty cock, Marcia forced her lips down further. Relaxing her throat muscles, she slipped farther and farther down his throbbing cock. It seemed to actually get thicker, as her lips approached the base. Her jaw felt as though it might snap, and her lips were stretched to their limit, but she was able to claim nearly all the angry thing in her eager mouth. The trade off, however, was that the colossal head sealed at her windpipe, causing her to gag and gurgle, each time she stroked her lips downward.

This seemed to turn the deputy on, as her let out a low growl each time his cockhead pushed to the back of her throat. Sample's grip tightened in her hair. His powerful hips started to press back towards her mouth. Soon, he was holding her in place, as he fucked her mouth. It was all Marcia could do to remain conscious, as his cockflesh buffeted her throat. Marcia gripped Sample's thick thighs, as he pummeled the back of her throat. Drool dripped onto her chin, flowing down her neck and into the valley between her breasts. It struck her, as she felt his orgasm draw near, that she did not even know the law officer's first name. She would taste his seed well before the pleasantries of his introduction. The thought immersed her in a wicked desire, and as Sample exploded in a geyser of cum down the back of her throat, Marcia felt a fluttering orgasm of her own. Small, barely there, but there all the same.

He let out a grunt as he filled her mouth and throat with an assault of cum. He held her down on his cock until Marcia was certain she would pass out. Cum bubbled out of her mouth, streaming between lips and cock. The stick, salty stuff followed the path of her saliva.

Finally, his tremors ebbed and he slowly released her. Marcia gulped the air heartily, as she coughed her way from semi-consciousness. Laughing softly, in spite of her predicament, she brought her fingertips to her chin. With both hands, she pushed stray cum into her mouth, as she peered up at the man who had just filled her gullet with seed.

Sample smiled down at her and lifted her to her feet. Without pause, he pressed his lips to Marcia's. In their kiss, his seed was shared between them. As he kissed her, one large hand slipped between her legs and played at the drenched crotch of her panties.