I was cruising along, feeling so good. My boyfriend Mike had just used my cunt like his own personal fuck toy. I love being used like a piece of tail. He filled me up, I can still feel a good portion of his hot cum churning around my womb. It was late, and I needed to get home. My driver's license was only a temporary one that I had gotten on my 18th birthday. If I got stopped by a cop....then the lights of a cop car's flashbar show up in my rearview mirror, and he blips his siren. Shit, dammit! I glance at the speedometer, realizing I'd been speeding in an attempt to get home faster. With no other choice, I pull over and nervously wait for him.
I watch him walk over, he leans down towards the window. I roll it down and he says, "Good evening Miss, you were in kind of a hurry. License and registration please.''
"Yes, Sir," I mutter as I hand over the documents. My heart is thumping with nervousness.
"Looks like you've only been driving about two weeks," the cop says, aiming his flashlight at my license. It's still the paper one. My real one hasn't even shown up in the mail yet.
"I know," I say, "I'm sorry."
"You know you're not supposed to be driving after ten, right?" he says, shining his light in my face and then up and down my body.
"I know," I say, "That's why I was speeding because I'm late getting home."
"Where are you coming from?" he asks, his light lingering on my tits. I'm wearing a tank top without a bra. I left the black lace bra and my matching black lace panties at my boyfriend's place, hanging off his bedpost like a souvenir. I am wearing a replacement set of panties, just straight white cotton, that I had brought along with me.
I know how he likes to have my sexy undies decorating his bedposts, the sexy set I wear when I go to get a good fucking. It turns him into a sexual tiger, and they stay there until the next time when a new set of my sexually powerful undies replaces the black lace. Hey, if that's his fetish, I have no complaints. I can still feel his warm cum trickling around inside my pussy as the cop questions me.
"At a friend's," I tell him.
"A boyfriend's?" he asks, the light dipping into my lap.
"I don't have a boyfriend," I lie, though I'm not entirely sure why.
"Well, I'm going to have to write you a ticket," he says, and I can see my driving privileges vanishing before my eyes.
"Isn't there any way you could just let me off with a warning?" I plead, batting my eyes and twisting my dark hair around my finger. I've flirted my way out of trouble in school with male teachers who are suckers for pretty eyes and big tits, and I've heard lots of stories about cops who let pretty girls off when they start to cry. The problem is I've never been much of a crier and the tears aren't coming now.
"What did you have in mind?" he asks, his light back on my tits. It's not the reply I expected and for a moment I feel off balance.
"I don't know," I say, "I can't get a ticket though."
He doesn't reply right away. He looks up and down the street. I'm just a few blocks from home and it's not a busy street. He turns off his flashlight and hooks it on his belt.
"Why don't you show me your tits?" he finally says.
"What?" I gasped, completely shocked.
"You've got nice tits," he says, "I'd love to see them."
"Are you serious?" I say, feeling my heart rate suddenly jump. I've heard about these stories, too.
"It's cheaper than a ticket," he says, "And you won't lose your license." For a long moment, I just stared at him. He's tall and well-built with big muscled arms sticking out of his short-sleeved shirt. He's not bad-looking but he's old, older than my Dad anyway, which is the standard I use for guys being old. He's at least in his forties, maybe late forties.
All this goes through my mind in a second before I do the balancing act. Which is worse, getting a ticket and possibly losing the license I've only just earned, or showing my tits to some pervy old cop? I'm embarrassed and blush when I realize that last thought sent a little chill down my spine and tickled the nerves that make my pussy wet. I blame it on the fact that I just had sex with my boyfriend, and as usual, I have to wait until I'm home and alone in bed before I can finish what he started.
"Alright," I say, deciding that flashing my tits is a lot less hassle than a ticket. I unhook my seatbelt and then simply slip the straps from my tank top off my shoulders. The top is tight and I have big tits so I have to roll it down around my belly. I feel the cool night air on my nipples and I'm surprised at the thrill I feel exposing myself to him.
"Nice," he says, and he doesn't ask but simply reaches through the window and cups my breast in his large hand. I don't say anything and he fondles my tits and lightly pinches my nipples. I'm embarrassed when they stiffen between his fingers. "You like that, huh?" he asks. I don't answer but I don't protest either when he ducks his head through the window and clamps his mouth over my nipple. It's swollen and sensitive now and it's hard to control my breathing.
"Unghhh," I sigh, biting down on my lower lip when I feel his hand between my thighs. I spread them for him, almost instinctively and without thought. My shorts are very short shorts and it's easy for him to find my pussy through the leg opening. "Ung," I sigh again, and I can't help but be impressed by his skilled fingers slipping so easily under my panties and finding my wet hole.
"Not bad," he says, finally standing and pulling his head from the window. He takes the finger that was in my pussy and puts it in his mouth, and I am tempted to ask him how my boyfriend tastes. I show some restraint though, more than I did letting him suck my tits and finger my pussy. I am flushed red and my pulse is thumping in my ears.
