Susan was smiling as she pulled out of her driveway onto the long stretch of road that led to the tennis center. It was to be her first lesson of the season and she had been looking forward to it all month, ever since the tennis center announced that it would be having evening lessons for those who, like Susan, worked during the day. She felt slightly guilty at the notion of leaving her husband and two school-age children at home one night a week. But, she rationalized, it would do Jim good to manage without her, cook supper, and get the kids into bed.
Just for the occasion, Susan got a bit dolled up-primping her hair instead of leaving it in a pony tail, and dressing in her most expensive tennis whites, though they would be indoors all evening. She kind of liked the thought of the men there, especially her instructor, Alex, taking her in (older woman that she was) and knowing she was out of reach, what with her husband being very prominent in local political and civic affairs and Alex, three years out of college, at the lowest rung of the social food chain.
She felt so free, as the Mazda peeled down the road, the radio blaring classic rock, like a teenager again, wild and crazy and free. "Yeah," she thought, "with a husband and two kids at home." She laughed at the thought and didn't even notice the squad car nestled in the bushes gunning for her. By the time she noticed what she had done (the speedometer read 48) the cops were on her tail. Little did she realize how accurate that description would be.
The red and blue lights of the squad car spun round and round in her rearview mirror, illuminating the night with that awful glow. Not the disco effect Susan had been fantasizing about. Then it hit her. She had a few moving violations to her credit already, and another one would put her over the brink and suspend her license. "Shit!" she blurted out.
Now she had to think fast. What possible excuse could she offer? She was more than twenty miles over the limit, passed the boundaries of inadvertent speeding. Perhaps the cops would recognize her from the social register and let her off with a warning. But perhaps not. After all, most of these cops resented the wealthier folk, and enjoyed it when they could nail one of them. If the driver was drunk, all the better to read about in the morning paper.
Susan pulled over and waited. As she watched the cop open his door and approach, she rolled down her window. The blast of fresh air hit her hard, and she realized how underdressed she was.
"License and registration, please," the cop began. She looked up at him and watched his eyes open as he actually took notice of her. And she took notice of him. Unlike most of the cops in this town-old, overweight, and out of shape-this guy looked to be in his early twenties and straight out of basic training. Plus, his eyes were a steely blue.
"License and registration, ma'am," the cop repeated, without breaking his stare. He aimed his flashlight at her, in typical cop fashion, but as she rifled through her purse to retrieve her wallet, she felt the beam travel up and down her legs. The air coming in from the window was getting colder, but that wasn't the only explanation for the chill now running up and down her entire body.
As Susan reached out the window to hand the officer her papers, she saw the confident grin on his face, the same smug look she used to get in high school from jocks who thought they could get into her panties (the fact that some of them did was no excuse for their arrogance). She noticed another thing too-this officer wasn't wearing the regular police uniform.
"You sure you're a cop," she said.
"Yes, ma'am. State trooper."
"Are you sure you have jurisdiction in this area?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered, and then leaned into her window. "I have jurisdiction wherever I decide to go."
Officer Beck (Susan read his nametag) gave her that look again before heading back to his car with her information. She watched him through the mirror and was impressed by his backside. Seems the boy eats his Wheaties, she thought. That ass looks all muscle.
What would she say when he returned? No doubt he would come back with the ticket already filled out. She wouldn't even get a shot at defending herself. And her social connections were worthless.
As Susan waited she thought of how he had checked her out-groped her with his eyes. She was bothered by his seeming imperviousness, as well as flattered. She did look amazing in her tennis whites, so who could blame the hunk? Her legs all long and trim, her full breasts pushing forward. She was getting turned on by the idea of this young cop (oops, sorry. "State trooper") checking her out. He must get his share of girls, she thought, if I was younger...
"Ma'am?" He was just outside her window. She looked up. "Ma'am, I have decided to let you go with just a warning."
Susan was thrilled and flabbergasted. "Seriously?" she asked.
"Well I could give you a ticket if you want," Officer Beck assured her.
"No, that's quite alright." Susan was so relieved. Perhaps her long legs had gotten her out of this jam after all. She was happy she dressed up tonight.
Officer Beck was still leaning against her car door. "Now," he said, "if you will please step out of the car."
Susan looked at him blankly.
"I need you to step out of the car, ma'am," he repeated.
Susan didn't understand. "I don't understand," she said. "Didn't you just say you were going to let me off with a warning?"
"Yes, I did," Beck said, calm as ice. That look reappeared on his face. "I need you to step out of the car to administer the warning."
Now Susan was afraid. This was highly unusual. But she couldn't just drive away. Who knows how they might react to that? Besides the officers hands still rested on her open car window. She'd be liable to knock him over if she took off.
Officer Beck opened the car door. Susan just sat there looking helpless as Beck's eyes drank in her body. He didn't pull her from the car, but simply offered his hand to help her get out. Though she was still filled with a certain amount of fear, there was a thrill to this situation that was making her dizzy. What was this guy trying to pull? She didn't really believe he would try to hurt her. And what choice did she have? She knew that he had something on his mind and that if he didn't get it, he would certainly give her a ticket, and she would just as certainly lose her driving privileges. That was unthinkable.
Susan took his hand and stepped out of the car.
The officer spun her around gracefully and placed her hands atop the car. He gently nudged her legs apart and started to frisk her.
"Are you kidding me?" she said, and surprised herself by laughing.
"Standard procedure, ma'am. You step out of the car in the presence of an officer, you must be frisked." As he said this his hands ran up and down the insides of her naked thighs and she thought her knees would buckle.
Then he turned her back around to face him. Looking at him up close, Susan was smitten by how beautiful his face was, his eyes an icy blue. He placed his strong hands on her shoulders and said, "Mrs. Perry, listen carefully. I am perfectly willing to give you a ticket and let you go right now. It will be for going 47 in a 25, 22 miles over the limit. I looked up your record and you will lose your license. But if you should choose that option, that's fine with me." He paused, staring at her deeply. "Or. Or I can give you a warning. Most cops just tell you to be more careful, and before you know it the driver is racing off, being reckless again. But my warnings are serious. They are intended to make a deep impression on you, so that you never forget our encounter."