I am a Deputy Sheriff in a rural southern county. Usually not too much going on, just the routine drunks, prowlers, and domestic violence calls. The guys are always talking about how much pussy they get because of the uniform, but I never experienced anything like that. Maybe because I'm female, and act as a professional, everyone has treated me with respect. So I blew off all their talk as so much hot air.
Until last week.
I was on patrol in the country, well out of town, when a crotch rocket flew by me. Oh, boy, I said to myself, here we go, expecting a race, but much to my surprise, it pulled over as soon as I hit my overheads. I checked out with dispatch, and approached the bike.
"Turn off your engine," I ordered the driver, who immediately complied, and then turned to face me, flipping open the face shield. Only then did I realize the driver was a woman.
"May I see your license and insurance?" I asked, trying to take my eyes off the most beautiful eyes staring back at me.
"Sure, officer. I know I was speeding, but this thing is so powerful, sometimes I just can't help myself," she said, removing her helmet and letting her long auburn hair spill down her back. She unzipped her jacket and reached inside to retrieve her license and proof of insurance. I ran her through the computer, and she came back clean. I looked at the insurance card and saw that it had expired the day before.
"Miss, " I began.
"Brooke," she interrupted. "My name is Brooke."
Honey could not have been any smoother or sweeter than her voice, and I momentarily forgot where I was.
"Brooke, your license is current, but your insurance is expired," I told her.
She immediately began to plead with me not to give her a citation. "My husband will kill me if I get a ticket!"
At that moment I suspected she was telling the truth. You get a sense of these things after working the road.
