Samantha Murphy Dppd

Greetings fellow miscreants! I've spent so much time reading these stories I thought I'd try my hand at writing one. This story contains golden showers/pissing, light lesbianism, oral sex, vaginal sex, creampie, creampie eating/sharing, and some non-consent/reluctance (warning for those who may be triggered by this). I genuinely welcome any feedback, good, bad, or otherwise. I'm not sure this is the best use of my spare time so it would be good to know if people enjoy it (or not). If there's interest I could try to make this a series.

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Officer Samantha Murphy stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, inspecting her appearance. She adjusted her duty belt, smoothed her shirt, twisted left, then right. Her hair was braided in a tight Dutch bun, her freckles visible through her lightly applied makeup. She wanted to make a good impression on her first day of field training with the Deep Pond Police Department. Being a police officer was her lifelong dream, and while she had earned Top Recruit honors at the academy, as a petite, fair skinned, blue-eyed redhead, she was afraid of being seen as weak. Thinking about how she'd confront her first real-life suspect, she struck a quick superhero pose in the mirror -- fists at her sides, legs shoulder width apart, shoulders back, pert breasts thrust forward.

"Freeze, sleazeball! DPPD!"

"Officer. Sam. Murphy."

"Officer Sam Murphy, DPPD!"

As she was deciding which of these should be her catch phrase, out of the corner of her eye she saw her field training officer, Officer Jessica Turner, pull up outside her townhouse in a squad car. She'd met the 28-year-old statuesque brunette officer while interviewing with the department, and was immediately impressed by her polished, professional demeanor. She was grateful to have any woman as her FTO, but especially this one. Still, as she stepped outside and met her slate blue eyes for the first time in more than six months, her stomach flip-flopped. "First day jitters," she told herself. "Completely normal."

Twenty minutes later, they were driving down a rural, tree-lined road reviewing investigative techniques. "Remember," Officer Turner said, "real police work is about paying attention to the details -- things that other people might not notice. Using all your resources. And sometimes that means getting your hands a little dirty."

Samantha knew this well enough, but still nodded, determined to show that she was hanging on Officer Turner's every word. Yet, as she watched the sunlight dappling through the white oak canopy above the rural stretch of county road, her mind drifted. She felt lucky to have gotten hired by her department of choice, to be living in such a scenic corner of Connecticut. She wondered if the day would stay as warm and mild as it was that morning.

She was startled back to the present by the sudden reflection of red and blue lights off the hood of the car. "This car's from out of state and going about five miles over the limit," Officer Turner said, gesturing to a black sedan with Florida plates ahead of them, a slight edge to her voice. "People try to run drugs up to Boston through here." That explained the edge. The road was infrequently traveled. They were alone.

Officer Turner called in the stop. "OK, we're going to get the driver out of the car," she said. "Stay behind me and to my right. I need to know where you are at all times." Samantha nodded, steeled herself, and stepped out of the car.

Samantha stood at the rear of the car as Officer Turner approached the driver's side window. She couldn't see the driver clearly -- he looked young, with a head full of wavy, dark hair.

"Good morning, sir, do you know why I pulled you over?"

"Uh...no." He sounded young, too.

"You were driving over the speed limit. 40 in a 35."

"I'm sorry. I didn't see any signs."

"Where you headed?"

"Boston."

"All right, let me see your license and registration." Samantha tensed as the man began reaching for his back pocket, then the glove compartment. Was he dangerous? Was he armed? A hardened criminal, desperate to evade the long arm of the law? Her nerves buzzed and her heart beat quickly. When she saw him hand his documents to Officer Turner, a nearly euphoric sense of relief washed over her.

Officer Turner flipped through the documents. "Sir, please step out of the car for me."

The door opened and a man who appeared to be no older than Samantha stepped out. He was tall, about six feet, she'd guess. His Henley shirt hugged his muscular torso. His jeans were fitted. "This guy doesn't skip leg day," she told herself. She felt her nipples harden, and she reminded herself to focus on the matter at hand.

"Paul Davis, is it? Mr. Davis, we have issues with people trying to move drugs up this way. They come through here to avoid major highways," Officer Turner said to the young man. "You wouldn't mind if I took a quick look in your trunk, would you?"

The young man shrugged. "Fine by me," he said.

Officer Turner quickly scanned the nearly-empty trunk and then stood back, arms akimbo, lips pursed. She looked at Samantha. "Drug runners will go to great lengths to avoid detection," she said.

"Look I'm a med student, it would be insane for me to --" Paul began.

"You really need to be quiet and let me talk, sir," Officer Turner snapped. The color drained from Paul's face. Samantha appreciatively noted the quick change in tone and its effect.

"I'm going to do a pat-down," Officer Turner said, both to Samantha and Paul.

"Raise your arms, spread your feet shoulder width apart," Officer Turner instructed.

Paul, evidently still sufficiently cowed by Officer Turner's reproach, quickly complied. She stepped forward and patted Paul down, running her hands along his arms and legs. Without turning to Samantha, she said, "These guys will hide drugs anywhere. Remember, you have to be thorough," she ran the back of her hand down Paul's torso, stopping and holding her hand against the crotch of his jeans. "Detailed," she said, looking Paul in the eyes and flipping her hand to cup his crotch. "You wouldn't be hiding anything here, would you, sir?"

"No. What? No! Jesus, what is this?" Paul's voice cracked as he lowered his arms and moved to step back.

Officer Turner's pat down turned suddenly into a lesson in subject control as she grabbed his crotch, hard. "Stop resisting!" She turned to Samantha. "I feel something. I'm going to need to take a closer look."

Samantha stood motionless, half-stunned. This was very different from the training scenarios at the academy. She felt lucky to be paired with such an impressive officer.

"Sir, I'm going to unbutton your pants, I need you to hold still," Officer Turner said, deftly unsnapping Paul's jeans and unzipping the fly to reveal a pair of red boxer briefs with an impressive bulge. "Officer Turner's a really good detective," Samantha thought. "I'd have just assumed that was his cock. It...looks like his cock. I wonder if he's circumcised?" She felt her pussy throb and moisten. "Focus, Samantha, you're an officer of the law," she told herself.

"What's this?" Officer Turner asked. "My...junk," Paul stammered. "Mmm-hm," clucked Officer Turner, "we'll see." She looked turned again to Samantha, who tore her eyes from the bulge in Paul's pants to meet her gaze. "This could be a fake cock. People use them to cheat on drug tests. And they can use them to smuggle paraphernalia," she said, turning back to stare Paul in the eyes. Officer Turner's use of the word "cock" out loud punctuated the air. Officer Turner put her hand back on the bulge in his pants. "Is this real?" she asked Paul. "What?" he asked, bewildered.

Suddenly, and quite deftly, Officer Turner grabbed the waist of Paul's jeans and pulled them and the boxer briefs down to his thighs, exposing a thick cock, thatch of pubic hair, and plump, plum-sized balls. It certainly looked real to Samantha. Her clit throbbed. "My god, that's a beautiful cock," she thought. "It looks real, but what do I know? I'm so lucky to have Officer Turner teaching me. I'd be fooled. It's so big." Samantha had a mental image of herself squatting down in front of Paul, gripping his erect cock in her right hand and holding it up so she could work his balls with her tongue, all over, under, reaching to lick his perineum..."

"Officer Murphy," Samantha heard a voice calling from far away. "Officer!" sharply, now, Samantha started and looked at Officer Turner. "Yes ma'am?"

"I was asking for your observation and assessment of this situation," Officer Turner said, now lightly gripping, almost caressing, Paul's balls. "Well, uh..." stammered Samantha.

"Do you think this is a real cock?" Officer Turner asked. Samantha looked at her superior's hand gently cupping Paul's ample balls, the shaft of his cock resting on her upturned wrist almost halfway to her elbow. She couldn't help but sigh as her pussy slickened with juice and her clit throbbed. Before she could think of what to say in response, Officer Turner continued, "You see Officer Murphy, it might look like a real cock, but as I was telling you, real police work is about details other people might not notice. This could be an elaborate fake, a hollow prosthetic, filled with smack and glued on top of a micropenis."

Paul snorted with laughter in spite of himself. Officer Turner whipped her head back to face him, the edge suddenly back in her voice. "Sir, it's really in your interest to remain quiet." She turned back to Samantha. "We have to look at all the evidence. Sir, I'm going to need you to urinate."

"WHAT?" Paul half-shouted in disbelief. Samantha had resumed thinking about massaging Paul's perineum with her tongue, but started at this exchange.

"You heard me, sir."

"Here?"

"Well it's either that or we take you back to the station for a full examination. Could take a few hours. Up to you."

"I'm...pee shy."

"Well you better get un-shy," she responded, releasing his balls and stepping so that she was standing to his right, Samantha on his left.

Paul paused, then gripped his cock, closed his eyes, and sighed. After a moment, a strong, hot stream began cascading out, splattering on the pavement. Samantha stared, transfixed, as his hot piss glittered in the sunlight. Her clit throbbed. "Why is this making me so wet?" she wondered. She knew about watersports, of course, ever since Scottie Dickinson had gotten a little carried away when they hooked up during her freshman year in college and soaked her hair, face, and breasts, even insisting she swallow a couple of mouthfuls. She had obliged, of course, caught up in the moment, and while it had never done much for her, something about Officer Turner's raw display of power juxtaposed with this vulgar display made her pussy go all juicy. She sighed longingly.

"You can never tell," Officer Turner said. "You know they make these things so they can pee, just like a real cock. That's how they pass drug tests. You have to look very closely." She squatted down so that she was at eye level with Paul's cock, inches from the strong, nearly clear, mellifluent stream. Samantha wondered what the point was of forcing this poor young man to urinate in front of them if it wouldn't prove his innocence as Officer Turner's eyes locked onto hers. Without breaking eye contact, Officer Turner leaned forward, and stuck out her tongue until Paul's urine began splashing against it, as if she were lapping water from a hose.

Paul gasped, but kept pissing. Samantha gawped. She felt another surge of moisture. Her panties felt warm and wet, and she was gripped with an almost irresistible urge to begin rubbing her throbbing, aching clit. She was sure she would cum in a matter of seconds if she did. Sternly, she reminded herself that rubbing her clit and cumming in front of her evaluator would not make a good impression. At the same time, she was transfixed, barely remembering to breathe as she watched Officer Turner's lewd display.

Officer Turner stood and smacked her lips. "Mmm," she said, thinking. "Salty, bitter...a little sweet. Sir, have you had any diet soda today?"

"Uh...yeah," Paul responded. His stream started to dwindle.

Officer Turner stepped close to Samantha, her back to Paul, evidently forgetting the need to keep a subject in sight at all times. She was close enough that Samantha could see droplets of urine on her face. She could smell his scent coming off her. Her head swam. She had an urge to run her finger up Officer Turner's cheek, catching droplets of pee to taste them herself.

Officer Turner licked her lips. "It could be real," she said matter-of-factly to Samantha, "but I need to do some additional investigation. I may need you to assist." Samantha, her mouth still hanging open, nodded weakly.

Officer Turner turned back and squatted again, this time facing Paul. She gripped his still dripping cock. "Fake cocks can pee, but normally they can't get hard," she said, looking directly at Samantha. She wrapped her mouth around his cock, swallowing it along with any remaining piss. Paul responded immediately, his cock swelling as she drew back so that she held just the head with her lips until she released it with a wet popping sound. She licked the length of his cock, starting at the balls and traveling up to the tip, where she lasciviously wiggled her tongue in the slit.

"Mmm," she said, "It feels real and tastes real." She wrapped her lips around his stiffening cock again, sloppily slurping away at it. She gripped the shaft and turned again to Samantha. "It's getting so big and hard so quickly, I think it might be real," she said, her voice lower now, throaty. Samantha nodded. Paul's cock, now fully erect, looked to be about eight inches long and almost six inches around.

Samantha's mouth watered. Oh, how she wanted to take Paul's impressive cock in her own mouth.

"There's one last field test we can do." Officer Turner again pushed herself to a standing position. She grabbed Paul's cock and led him to the hood of his car. She undid her belt and uniform pants, pushing them down past the swell of her hips. Samantha stared at her shaved, pink, puffy lips, glistening with pussy juice. She felt better, knowing she wasn't the only one creaming, but she also wondered how much more of this she could take. Her clit throbbed and ached, and she was so wet she was sure her juices were seeping through the crotch of her uniform. She hoped she'd be able to attend to herself soon.

"Officer Murphy, step closer please," said Officer Turner. She bent over the hood of the cart without letting go of Paul's cock (not that she needed to hold on, as the young man had long since stopped protesting).

"Mr. Davis, I'm going to need you to follow my guidance." She then reminded Samantha, "You need to use all the tools at your disposal to properly investigate." Samantha was now standing directly in front of the driver's side mirror, as Officer Turner rested her free arm on the hood of the car. Samantha was beginning to wonder if Officer Turner's wanton sexual actions were strictly necessary, but quickly decided her training officer must know what she was doing.

"Latex feels different from skin, but this is where you come in. I need you to get close, and really look at his cock. See what it looks like when he sticks it in me and pulls back out. Pussy juice has a way of coating skin, it just looks different." Officer Turner turned her head to look at Paul standing behind her, and, using her right hand, rubbed the head of his cock against her vulva, easing it inside. She gasped as Paul entered her until his pubic hair brushed up against her ass. "That's it," she said. "Ooh! All the way in. Deep, slow strokes now." Paul began slowly, rhythmically, pumping away.

"Ooh, I think this might be real, Officer Murphy. Oh! This definitely feels like a real cock. It nice and warm and it's really stretching my pussy. But just...ooh...in case...ooh...get close, get a good...ahh...look." Officer Turner lifted her right leg and put her knee on the hood of the car, tilting her pelvis upward and out so Samantha could clearly observe Paul fucking her.

Samantha knelt beside her evaluator, leaning forward and twisting her head to position her face directly below her dripping slit. She stared, transfixed, at Paul's thick cock sliding in and out of her pink quim, the lips pushed open, the opening stretched tight by his girth. Droplets of pussy juice spattered onto Officer Turner's pants and Samantha's face. This was too much for Samantha and her poor, needy clit. Very discretely, she started rubbing her pussy through her wet pants with her left hand.

"Now...uh...Mr. Davis...uh...I'm going to need you to cum inside me...oooh! It's very important. "You need to tell me when you're going to cum, Mr. Davis, OK?" Paul grunted his assent. "Officer Murphy, it's...ooooh....I may need your assistance here. What do you think, is it....ooh...real?"

"It looks real," breathed Samantha. Officer Turner kept one arm on the hood of the car and with the other reached down and began rubbing her swollen clit.

"Tell me what you see, Officer Murphy," she panted.

Trying to keep her voice and breathing steady, and her mind focused, as she rubbed her pussy, Samantha tried to respond: "Um...the subject's penis..."

"Oooh....his cock, Officer Murphy, say cock. It's....ahhhh...very important to avoid the use of overly....ooooh...technical language," said Officer Turner.

"His cock is sliding in and out of your pussy. It's really stretching you out. Ohhh..." Samantha heard her own pre-orgasmic moan and tried to parlay it into a studious observation. "It's coated with juice. I can see your fingers rubbing your clit and his balls swinging back and forth." Under the circumstances she thought it sounded astute.

"Mmm, that's good. What else? Remember you have five senses you can use to observe."

"I can smell your pussy, sweat, and...uhhhmmmm...I think maybe the subject uses Axe Body Spray..."

"Very good, oh that's so good," said Officer Turner. "If you feel up to it you could taste it, see if it tastes like plastic or latex...oooh, better to be sure."

Samantha did not consider herself a lesbian, but she didn't mind the taste of pussy, especially her own (one her favorite masturbatory memories was fucking Dean Sutter in his girlfriend's car the summer after senior year, him not having a condom nor wanting to leave any evidence on the seats, resulting in Samantha letting him whip his cock out of her pussy and push it into her mouth just in time for him to shoot a good six or seven large jets of cum onto her tongue and down her throat). At any rate she felt this was a reasonable thing to do, as it would further her training, assist in the investigation, and help her cum -- a win-win solution for all. She stuck her tongue out to touch Paul's cock. She tasted Officer Turner's tangy pussy juice and the warm skin of his cock. She held her position, letting his cock run along the tip of her tongue as it slid in and out of Officer Turner's pussy -- just to be sure.

"Oh, I really think it's a real cock," she breathed. "Ooooooohh, I can taste it, and your pussy. Oh and now his balls are getting tight. I think he's going to come!" As she careened over the precipice of orgasm, Samantha couldn't keep her voice from rising an octave.

"Very good. Oh, that's so good. Oh...ooooooooooooooh," Officer Turner moaned as she came first, squirting juice rather messily into her pants, some of it splashing onto Samantha's face just as her own orgasm began in earnest. "Ahhhhhh," Samantha moaned, closing her eyes, letting her mouth hang open so Officer Turner's juices coated her tongue, and squirting so copiously she felt juice running through her saturated panties and pants, past her fingers, and dripping to the asphalt below.