Early one morning a knock sounded at my door. It was loud and insistent and despite my state of under-dress I went to check the window. Outside, in my driveway, was a local black-and-white, so I quickly opened the door and asked the officer inside. His eyebrows rose when he saw what I was wearing, just a longish white t-shirt over my panties. "Sorry officer, I just woke up," I said, "I didn't expect a visitor so early. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
"Well, Ma'am, this is more of a business call," he said. "There was a report of a prowler in the neighborhood and we're checking residences for any sign of him."
"I didn't hear anything last night, Sir."
"One of the window screens appeared to be missing," he said. "Do you mind if I check."
"Of course not, Sir."
He walked around downstairs and into my bedroom and looked around. Great, I had forgotten to tidy up and my vibrator was front and center on nightstand, right next to the cover of my new bondage DVD. Now what was he going to think?
I tried to slide in front of the nightstand, but I knew he'd seen. He walked over and picked up the DVD cover.
"Uh, Officer," I stammered. "The windows, um , they are right over here, Sir."
"I'm rather surprised to find this here," he said.
"That is not exactly what it looks like, Sir. I've, um, been doing research into psychology and…"
He lifted the vibrator. "Psychology with a vibrator?" He said, blue eyes amused, "I think you're full of shit. Do you watch a lot of this stuff?" He walked over to my movie shelf and started reading the titles. I have a well rounded collection. "You are quite the little porno queen aren't you."
I thought about apologizing, or explaining, or something. But what was I going to say?
"You know, pornography and drugs often go together," he said. "I think I am going to take another look around." He began to dig through my nightstand. He pulled out some magazines, a dildo, a dusty old journal and suddenly a small baggie. "What's this?"
"I don't know, Officer…"I started to say.
"Heroin or cocaine," he said. "You are in a bit of trouble."
"That isn't mine!" As I said it I knew, he'd heard it a thousand times. But it was true! I didn't do drugs.
He grinned and said, "Put your hands behind your head."
As I assumed the position I'd seen on Cops, he reached, turned me to the wall and pushed me forward. Then he frisked me. Since I wasn't wearing any pants, he patted down my ass before moving up to my long t-shirt. He slid his hands under my shirt, up to my breasts, squeezed once before slowly sliding down to my pussy, then said, "Turn around."
When I did he was smiling even more broadly. "You know," he said. "I assumed you were a good and law abiding citizen when you let me in about the prowler. Now I see you are nothing but a drug taking slut. But, I have an idea. I can forget about this package if you can show me just how far you'll go to assist the police."
"But, I don't know anything about drugs, Sir." I said, slowly.
"Actually, I was wanting assistance in another way," he said. "Take off your shirt and put your hands behind your head. I felt something under your shirt that needs closer attention. I think you're hiding something else."
As I gaped at him I realized I had no choice. If I didn't listen he would arrest me. He had a bag of something, and who would believe me when I said it was planted? I looked down at myself and back at his widely grinning face as he reached for the remote and turned on the movie. As the ‘actors' began to perform, I began to as well. I pulled my shirt over my head and ‘assumed the position.' He took my hands and propelled me over to the floor length mirror on my closet door so I faced my reflection. He reached around me and began pinching my nipples, twisting and pulling them. My puffy nipples quickly hardened in his fingers. My tits are very, very sensitive, and I could feel my body starting to respond, against my wishes as he tugged and tweaked them. He then moved to bouncing my tits in his hands, making them shake and judder and I looked to the floor rather than see my own blushing embarrassment.
"Look up," he commanded.
"What?" I said.
"I said, look up. And don't address me without calling me Officer or Sir," he said. "And you watch what I am doing until I tell you not to."
I looked up to his hand slapping down on my right nipple, hard. I jumped. My whole breast shook. He then cupped my tit in his left hand and began slapping it with his right, not quite as hard as the first time. My tit became pink and began to sting. "Pretty shade of pink, isn't it," he said. Then he moved to my left tit. After he finished he began to pinch and twist my nipples again. By this time they were really stinging from the slapping and I began to squirm with each tweak. Each touch seemed to ignite an answer in my pussy.
