I was driving home from getting my hair done thinking of my sexy black neighbor Mr. Chapman. I showed up to my appointment late because of traffic and almost had to give up my spot, but the appointment after me arrived early so my hairdresser took care of her first and then did me after. I got myself a cute bob with bangs, like Ramona Flowers from
Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World
. I kept the color my natural red instead of doing anything neon like Ramona. Traffic had lightened up by the time I left my appointment, so I was cruising home with my new do and a flurry of thoughts.
The last time I saw Mr. Chapman, my sexy neighbor, he was in his hot tub and I watched him from my window. It was a perfectly innocent exchange and... OK, I'm lying. I watched him masturbate in his hot tub while he watched me do the same from my bedroom window. There, I said it. That was almost a week ago at this point, and he's been stuck in my head since.
I had only really known him for about two weeks. By 'know' him I mean got plowed by his massive dong and haven't stopped thinking about it. I would have reached out to him to see if he wanted to get coffee or, I don't know, plow me again, but even if I had his contact info I'm not sure I would have had the courage to ask.
Before I met him I was basically a virgin. After I met him I became an insatiable horndog. Ever since our fateful night where he caught me skinny dipping in his pool I haven't been able to get him out of my head. Every night when I get home I check out my window for any signs of him, but I'm rarely rewarded. Did he work nights? Was he out of town? Was he avoiding me? I didn't know, and I had no way of finding out. Oh well, c'est la vie.
Red and blue lights filled my car. I heard the
whoop whoop!
of a police siren. My eyes flashed down to my speedometer. I was going eighty. I wasn't sure what the speed limit was, but I was positive it wasn't eighty. "Shit," I said as my heart pounded in my chest. I signaled and pulled over, slowing to a stop in a wooded area of road just before my neighborhood. Great, I was so close. I definitely would have slowed down once I got to houses, but he got me while I was distracted. I sighed and put my hands at ten and two after rolling down my windows.
The officer pulled up behind me and stopped. He stayed in his vehicle for a bit, probably checking my plates. I got ready to dish out the waterworks. I opened my eyes wide and stopped myself from blinking to get them to tear up. I didn't have the money to pay for a speeding ticket and my parents would be pissed to have to cover it for me. I heard a car door slam as the officer stepped out of his vehicle and came around to the passenger's side of my car. He rested his forearm on the edge of the window and leaned down to look at me.
"License, registration and proof of insurance please," he said, shining his flashlight directly into my eyes.
"Sure officer, can I go for my glove box?" I asked. I didn't want to spook him by just reaching for it. Some cops are testy.
"Go ahead, 'mam," he said.
I leaned over, suddenly self conscious of how low cut my top was, and thought the officer got a good view of my cleavage as I reached for my papers.
Maybe that'll help me get out of a ticket,
I joked to myself. I grabbed everything in my glove box and pulled all of it into my lap, sorting through papers to find what he had asked for. Then I pulled my license out of my purse and handed it over along with my registration and proof of insurance. He snatched it up and glanced at it.
"You have any idea how fast you were going?" he asked as he shined his flashlight at my papers. If I admitted I was speeding, he'd surely give me a ticket. If I said I didn't know how fast I was going, that implied I was being reckless and he might ticket me anyway. I considered lying and saying I knew I was going the speed limit, but that probably wouldn't work either. Instead, I stared at the wheel and kept my eyes open, trying to get more tears to come.
"I clocked you going about eighty in a fifty. That could be a very expensive fine, Miss Hailey," he said. Something about the way he said my name sound familiar. It couldn't be. I leaned over again and tried to get a better look at the officer. He shined his light back into my face.
"Mr. Chapman? Is that you?" I asked, squinting into the light.
"That's Officer Chapman, 'mam," he said. He shined his flashlight away from my eyes so I could see him. He smiled and winked.
"Oh god, you really had me going for a second!" I laughed. "Wait, you're a cop?"
"Yes 'mam," he said, leaning over and resting his forearms on the side of my passenger side window again.
"But that night when we... y'know... you were in a suit and everything," I said.
"I had just got back from a funeral," he said.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Nah, you made my night a lot better," he said. I smiled at him as I recalled that night. "But 'mam, we need to talk about this speeding ticket you're about to get," he said, putting his authoritative voice back on. My smile faded.
"Yeah, I suppose you've got a job to do. Sorry, I was just trying to-"
"I understand a young college kid may not be able to afford such an expensive ticket. I'd hate to put a bright-eyed girl like you into a bind, so maybe we can come to some other arrangement?"
He couldn't be serious. Was he still on duty? Was his dash cam running? I was parked on the side of the road in a major suburb, what if someone saw us? Though I supposed if he was suggesting it he probably had answers to all those questions and knew what he was doing. I put on my most breathy Marylin Monroe voice to help sell the act.
"Why, surely officer, there must be
some
