Author's Notes: As is usual to state on Literotica, in case it is not clear enough from the story itself, all characters participating in sexual acts occurring in this story are at least 18 years of age.
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"Woohoo!" Jacob Alexander screamed out with his head poking out of the driver's window of his Audi A8 as it pretty much flew by a bunch of random people, mostly children, standing by the rural road he was now feeling like the king of.
He was proud of not being a stereotypical rich douchebag, despite having the looks and general background of just that type of a guy. In moments like these, however, he could certainly enjoy himself in ways that would be typical of the obnoxious silver spooners who hadn't yet realized that life has consequences, and whose generational wealth was all but certain to shield them from that unwanted discovery for at least a decade more.
He very much was aware of the fact that real life had consequences. Considering, to any impartial observer, the alarming number of his acquaintances who had problems with the law, he was perfectly aware of how nasty those consequences could be.
That was one of the reasons why he loved vacationing so much. Whenever things got too overwhelming, he just packed his bags and reappeared on another continent. He had his fair pick of regular locations to visit, but South America always had a special spot in his heart.
Perhaps because so many of his friends were from here? Or he just liked the nature, culture, and general feel of the place? He still wasn't sure himself, and yet, here he was, for the first time in Colombia, one of the few countries which he hadn't visited so far, forcing the engine of his expensive, luxurious car to its limits as he enjoyed the country's isolated, rural roads.
Maybe that was why he only noticed the police car, with its lights flashing and sirens blaring as it followed him, only after what must've undoubtedly been a minutes-long chase by now. As his powerful car was blazing through the rarely, if ever, maintained road, it was leaving behind a veritable dusty cumulonimbus that all but fully blocked his view of what was behind him. Along with that, the small rocks covering the road were being sent flying at almost health-threatening angles and speeds for any potential bystander, making sure that he could barely hear anything else than the sounds of those tiny rocks hitting the underside of his car.
"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he started stopping the car.
Right the day he agreed to discreetly move certain rather illegal cargo on the behest of the one friend he had here in Colombia, he just had to be stopped by cops.
As he opened the driver's door right after stopping the car and stepping out of it, disjointed, barely-logical, or coherent thoughts were swirling madly in his mind. Well, this was a fuck-up. He was reasonably sure that he could probably rely on his passport and the money filling his wallet to bail him out of this. Wouldn't be the first time. Still, his heart was beating in his head nevertheless.
The sound of the door of the police car being loudly slammed woke him up to the reality of the situation. When he looked in the direction the sound was coming from, his jaw fell down a bit as his eyes realized what they were looking at.
The rough, tough cop he had expected to stand there really did so, looking just as he had expected... except for the fact that she was a woman. Quite an example of one, actually.
If he had to guess, she seemed to be about 35 years old. Older than his 27 years old self, but not in the least less attractive because of that. If anything, she seemed to be pretty much at her physical peak right now. The term, "Latina curves" seemed honestly inadequate, if not even insulting given her figure. Her body just oozed sex. Her uniform was straining to contain all the juicy parts of her well-sculpted body as she stood, and when she started walking towards him in an utterly unsurprisingly seductive way, the continued textile integrity of her uniform mystified him more and more with each move of hers.
Officer Mariana Sofia sighed to herself silently as she walked towards him. She knew exactly what the young horndog was thinking, of course. She had dealt with her fair share of guys like him in her line of work, both annoying and entitled foreigners like him and the run-of-the-mill local riff-raff. Though, she couldn't deny that he was better looking than most.
Maybe this could be fun yet...
"What's the problem officer?" Jacob confidently asked.
"Hands on the door, Justin. Now!" she commanded.
The tone of her voice alone made him do as she ordered, plus spread his legs apart a bit as he knew he expected, before realizing that she probably didn't have a right to be already searching him. At least, he hoped so.
"Apologies, officer, but there's no need to search me," he said, without moving his body even an inch away from her as her quick, thorough hands scanned his figure.
That was for the best. He knew exactly what she was about to find if she looked too much at him and his clothes. Had he moved now with how madly his heart his beating, his jerky movements alone would've blown whatever cover story he would be able to create on the fly.
"Shut up and keep steady, Chad," she blurted back as she continued patting him down, her hands going dangerously close to where he didn't want them to be.
"Yeah, no," he growled and turned around. "I didn't do any..." he froze, as he found himself staring right into the barrel of her service gun.
"What? You didn't do anything wrong and are going to run to your embassy crying about us mean Colombianos ruining your perfect dream holiday?" she growled back.
"Urm, no," was all he could say in reply.
"Do you think I'm stupid, Zayn?" she asked with glee in her seductive eyes. "We're about fifty kilometers away from the closest tourist site. Every other gringo that somehow finds his way here has been sent by the cartels hoping that his passport would protect him from the scrutiny a local would get as a matter of course. And I have a pretty strong feeling that the pendejos not caught trafficking anything are just better at hiding it. You can cry to all the CIA agents in the embassy about how mean I was to you if I find nothing. Nobody will care. But if I do find something, heh..."
She didn't even need to finish it to let him understand what she implied.
"Non... None of those were my name," was the only thing he managed to say with his quivering voice as she resumed checking him for any drugs he might've had on his person.
"Justin, Chad, Brad, Zayn, Zander, Brayden, I don't care," she replied, as her soft hands reached dangerously close to where he dreaded they would. "You gringos have been coming up with the douchiest and goofiest names lately. I'm pretty sure you have one of them. You're just the type," she said, as her tapping hands made their way down his legs.
Just when he had quietly sighed to himself with relief, an amused grin appeared on her beautiful face as her hand shot between his legs, grabbing the cargo which he had chosen to transport there.
"Eurekaaa!" she yelled out with a passion that would make Archimedes himself blush, as she squeezed the foreign object resting below his junk. "Now, what do we have here?" she asked with an almost sarcastic tone of voice, and before he could even start to protest, she slid her warm, soft right hand under his pants.
His heart stopped for a moment.
When she pulled her hand back, she was holding a transparent plastic bag, filled almost to the point of bursting with white powder of the kind she had already seen a thousand times.
"I see you bought yourself some sugar! Nice," she sarcastically quipped, while he just stared vacantly ahead, his head facing to her right. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Dylan. Seems like your vacation isn't about to go the way you hoped."
"Ah, I don't know, I have no idea where that came from," he hurriedly replied, somehow managing to keep a straight face on despite there being absolutely no way he believed the words he was saying. "Someone, somehow, must've slipped it to me, drug me to hide it there."
She just laughed at what he was blabbering.
"And my name is Jacob," he confidently asserted, as if it mattered in the slightest at this point.
"Well, Jacob, I hope you like Colombia because you'll be staying here for a while," she replied with a mocking tone in her voice as she put the bag of cocaine into her pocket and took out a pair of handcuffs.
"No, wait, Ma'am, please don't," he pitifully pleaded, not even trying to resist her as she put the handcuffs on his wrists after turning him around to face his car pulling his hands behind his back. "This doesn't have to go this way. I'm very rich, we can, we will certainly make a deal!"
She froze. Faint hope had started forming in the back of his mind. This wasn't the first time he had gotten out of a pickle by waving some money around, and it certainly wasn't about to be the last. He would've probably even started to smile, had she not suddenly grabbed him and turned him around to face her.
When he saw the devilish grin adorning her amused face, he realized that it wasn't him who was lucky today.
