CONTENT WARNING: This story contains elements of reluctance/non-consent. If you don't want to read those topics, you have been warned.
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WOOP WOOP WOOOOOP
You've gotta be fucking kidding me. Flashing lights on my way back to school, and after such a fun spring break! Fuck!
"Pull over your vehicle" the cop ordered through the intercom, as if I wasn't already complying. These assholes love their power.
I shivered nervously while waiting even though we were in the Mississippi heat. After a few anxiety-filled minutes, a bulky man finally stepped out of the car. Dammit, of course I got some big scary guy instead of a hot lady cop!
The burly body swaggering towards me looked tough. My eyes were immediately drawn to his knee-high, spit shined black boots. Going up, I saw thighs the size of my torso squeezed into grey tights. As he got closer I could make out his expression: unenthused. I couldn't see his eyes beneath his reflective aviators but his grizzled frown assured me he wasn't happy.
His crotch sat window-height so he had to lean over to speak to me. Now my view was blocked by his broad shoulders and chest, covered by a matching grey short sleeve button down.
After scoping him out I'm not ashamed to admit the dude was ripped. His girthy, veiny arms were popping out of his sleeves and well-developed pecs showed through his unbuttoned shirt. Drops of sweat slid from his thick, bristled neck down his hairy chest, forming dark patches across his uniform. He put both hands on my window and stuck his head in.
"Know why I pulled you over, boy?"
The cop's southern accent was thick which only added to his intimidating demeanor. I was just a soft New England boy who'd gone south for some sun! I wasn't used to guys like this!
"Uhhh...."
"I clocked you goin' a little over a hundred back there. Know what the speed limit is 'round these parts?"
"S-s-seventy five...."
"Seventy five, sir," he repeated back to me.
"W-what...?"
"It's 'sir' when you're speakin' to me, boy. Got it?"
Jeez, what a hardass!
"Y-yes, sir. The speed limit is 75, sir...."
"Actually, boy, this here's a construction zone with a speed limit of 60. That means you were goin' more than 40 over, and that's a felony."
"W-wait, officer. I... I'm just trying to get back to school, man, I swear. A-and... Look around! Come on, we're in the middle of nowhere! There's no other cars! I-I mean... it's not like I was gonna hurt anyone!"
"I'm gonna need you to step out of the vehicle."
"W-what? You can't be serious..."
"Do I look like I'm kiddin', boy."
He didn't.
"Oh fuck... Oh fuck... Oh fuck...."
I was scared shitless getting out of my car. Was he gonna arrest me?! Was I going to jail???
"Put your hands on the vehicle, boy, I need to check you for weapons."
"Come on, man, I don't have any-"
"Put your hands on the vehicle!"
"Yes, sir!"
I trembled fearfully as the big man came up behind me. At a little over 6 feet I wasn't short, but this guy was enormous! He must have had 5 inches and 70 pounds on me and was at least twice my width. I'm athletic but more thin and wiry, so I felt vulnerable as hell near this muscled giant.
He started his inspection at my shoulders, grabbing them tightly then giving a rub. His hands were huge and grip painful, but I didn't want to flinch and look like a pussy. I tried to steel myself, but as his paws patted down my tight wifebeater it was hard not to shudder.
When he got to my trim waist he held it for a second and just stood breathing. Then, instead of going down to check my pockets, he sent his hands under my shirt!
"Ah!" I squealed. "I-is this really necessary?"
"Are you resisting an officer, boy?"
"No!! No, sir, definitely not!"
"Good. Then stay still, son."
I caught my breath as his warm, calloused hands glided up and down my taught abs and pecs. I didn't know why he needed to feel me up so intimately but I wasn't about to argue with a cop.
"You sure you're headin' back to college, son? This chest o' yours ain't got a hair on it."
"Uhhh... Yes, sir, I'm 22," I blushed.
"Mmm..." he grunted. "Just my luck."
I wasn't sure what he meant but it was hard to dwell with his big hands all over me. They were rough and strong, having obviously worked harder than my small, soft ones. I didn't do much manual labor but that had never affected my view of my own manhood. That is until I went up against this blue collar beast who made me feel downright effeminate! And worse, he seemed to revel in it!
"Ummm... Sir...?" I asked cautiously after he'd been squeezing and fondling my pecs for almost a minute.
"Quiet, boy!" he ordered, so I shut the fuck up.
I could hear him moaning and huffing as he crouched over me and wasn't sure what to think. I figured he was just fucking with me cuz he was bored, but it was bizarre nonetheless.
The inspection went on and soon hot breath was rolling down my neck. I swore I even felt him grinding up on me as his hands continued to travel wherever they pleased. First over my shoulders then down the valley of my spine, trailing the sweat drops as they trickled into my crack. He followed them all the way, landing his big palms on my peachy butt, covered only by my thin basketball shorts.
"It's hot as hell out here, huh, boy?" he asked as he moved them towards the center.
There, he must've felt the damp sweat patch that had formed. Humiliated, I replied a nervous, "yes, sir."
"Yup, hot as hell....." he repeated.
Just like before, his hands eventually found themselves underneath my garment. And of course I'd made the dire mistake of going commando.
He started from below, lifting the bottom of my shorts up to reveal my hairless thighs and ultimately my cheeks. I was naturally smooth and got embarrassed when my ex-girlfriend asked if it would ever grow in. Now I stood petrified while the cop held my shorts up in a makeshift thong, using his other hand to squeeze my buns.
"Mmmmm... Nothing here..." he mused, but it was clear he wasn't finished.
He let my shorts back down but quickly re-entered from the top. Now my smooth crack was accessible and he began patting it down. I jumped, hoping to god he wasn't gonna check.... up there....
"You're already wet," he chuckled when he spread open my creamy, athletic cheeks and encountered a moist hole. It was 90 degrees out and I had black leather seats for Christ's sake!
