Breathalyser

Why do police officers stop cars? There's a variety of reasons. Things like speeding, erratic driving, some sort of obvious fault with a vehicle, a driver runs a stop sign. You know the sort of thing. And occasionally, boredom.

You'll be cruising around on your bike and for some reason it's a dull day. Not much traffic, especially when you're out in the country, and what there is, is law-abiding. So you get bored. To alleviate this you pull over the odd vehicle, do a quick vehicle check and hopefully wave them on their way, knowing that we're out here keeping an eye on things.

Oh, yes. One other little thing when you pull some random car over. Give them the old breathalyser. This gives them a smug feeling when they register clear and you do sometimes get someone who's had a bit too much.

That was my situation one sunny afternoon. I was bored. I was just cruising along, not in any hurry, running below the speed limit and letting cars pass me, running my eye over the occupants as they did so.

When this little red job went cruising past me with a couple of honeys in it my duty was clear. I sped up a little, lights flashing and tooting on the siren. They pulled over and this nice little blonde of about twenty peeped rather nervously out the window at me.

"I wasn't speeding," she said defensively. "Tell him Nicki. Tell him I wasn't speeding."

"She wasn't speeding, officer," the other girl called out. "Or not much, anyway."

"Nicki!" came the protesting wail. "I wasn't speeding at all. Honest."

"I'll take your word for that, ma'am," I said. "That's not why I pulled you over. It's just a random car check. If you'll excuse me, I'll just do a quick run over of your car."

I didn't really expect to find anything wrong with the car and I didn't. I smiled at the driver, reassuring her that all was fine.

"Before I go, I need to do a breath test," I said, producing the equipment. "If you could please blow in here until I tell you to stop. ."

From the reaction you'd think I'd ask for another type of blowjob.

"Um, I'd really rather not," she mumbled.

"I'd rather you did," I replied. "If you don't I've got to take you down to the station for a formal blood test and if you refuse that you can be charged. Much easier to just blow and go. A lot less paper work for me."

"But what if I'm over?" she wailed, flapping her hands around.

I hadn't smelled any alcohol and neither girl acted as though they'd been drinking. What was her problem?

"Have you had anything to drink in the last few hours?"

"We had wine with our lunch. If I'm over my dad will kill me."

"Lunch was a couple of hours ago," I pointed out. "Anything you had then will have started to leave your bloodstream by now. You should be safe."

"Stacey, why don't you do some quick exercises," suggested her friend. "Exercise helps reduce blood alcohol levels. I'm sure the officer won't mind if you did a little exercise before you blew in the bag."

Her friend, Nicki, leaned well forward to look out the window at me. Also, I'm quite sure, to make certain I got a decent look down her cleavage, and I'll admit it was worth looking.

Neither girl was over-endowed with clothes. Skimpy tops and shorts seemed to be the order of the day. I had no object to Stacey hopping out of the car and doing some exercises. Maybe skipping or a few jumping jacks. I was willing to bet that her anatomy would provide a nice bounce.

"OK by me," I said with a shrug, "as long as you don't take too long."

Nicki promptly piled out of the car and practically dragged Stacey around to the passenger side, out of my direct view. Nicki was obviously advocating some sort of exercise and Stacey seemed reluctant. Then Stacey ducked down and I couldn't see her unless I obviously snooped.

"Um, officer, you're a public servant, aren't you?" Nicki called to me.

"Yes," I said warily, knowing some people had a strange attitude as to what a public servant should do for the public.

"Then if a member of the public needs a hand, you can provide it, if it doesn't take you away from your duties?"

"Within reason," I said, suspecting a trap, but not sure where it lay.

"Then can you come around and help Stacey with her exercises?"

I was still suspicious as I walked around to the passenger side of the car, and rightly so, it turned out.

The front passenger door was open and Stacey was bending over, leaning into the car, hands on the seat. Her shorts and panties were down around her ankles. She was looking around towards me and her face was bright red and very nervous.

"Sex," Nicki said, "is a great exercise. They say sex is easily the equivalent of a fifteen minute jog. This will give Stacey all the exercise she needs and help burn out any alcohol left in her bloodstream. It's the perfect answer."

I figured that if anyone needed a bit of alcohol burned out of their bloodstream it was Nicki. She was deliberately doing her best to stitch Stacey up.

"This looks suspiciously like an attempt at bribery," I said.

"No it's not," retorted Nicki. "Bribery is given to get you not to perform your duty. We are quite willing to have you do your duty and have Stacey blow in your little pipe. We just want a little bit of assistance before you do so."

Standing where I was I could clearly see Stacey's bottom and the treasure between her legs. Unfortunately I could also see the reluctance on her face. Nicki was goading her indo doing something she didn't want to do and I was going to have no part of it.

Well, almost no part. I reached out and ran my hand lightly over Stacey's bottom, finishing with a light touch to her pussy. Her eyes opened wide and I thought she was going to scream. I stepped back.

"Almost you persuade me," I said, running my eyes suggestively over Nicki's figure, lingering for a moment on her breasts. "Almost."

"Kinky," murmured Nicki. "Does this help?"

She shimmied out of her own shorts, watching me watching her. Giggling, she turned and bent over next to Stacey, giving me a pair of lovely bottoms to admire.

"Don't be bashful," Nick cooed. "Come and get it while it's hot." She gave a quick slap to Stacey's bottom.

I'm only human and the girls were begging for some attention. At least one of them was. I unzipped and moved up behind them.

"OK, you've convinced me that you need the exercise," I said, and with that I reached out and dragged apart a pair of pussy lips, driving my cock firmly between them.

Nicki gave a squeal.

"Not me, you idiot," she shrieked. "Stacey."

"You were offering as well," I pointed out, "and I picked you. You can't say you weren't horny. I can feel how wet and hot you are."

That was for sure. I was slipping down her passage without the least sign of resistance. Complaint aside, Nicki was lifting her bottom and pushing back firmly to meet me. I sheathed myself in her with that first vigorous stroke.

Stacey had turned to watch, looking relieved and, unless I imagined it, just a trifle disappointed. She fast got over any disappointment, smirking and looking pleased to see Nicki being thoroughly shafted.

And thoroughly shafted was just what Nicki was getting. She didn't say anything really intelligible after that first thrust. Her conversation changed to a series of short statements along the line of: "Oh my god, ahh, fucking hell, oh fuck me, you bastard, harder, oh my fucking god."

I did my best to give her the exercise she seemed so eager for. I drove in hard, feeling her passage closing around me as I drove in, her bottom lifting and pushing towards me. Exercise should be strenuous, and I did my best to make it so. I fucked her hard, slamming in hard, while Nicki squealed and bucked beneath me, answering every movement I made with a matching one.

I was breathing hard, almost lifting Nicki of her feet as my loins slammed up against her bottom. Her squeals and babbling was turning frantic, getting shriller as her excitement rose.

I had finally reached the end of my run and I just gave her everything I had left, hoping it would be enough. I was almost groaning as I felt myself letting go, spraying her.

Nicki bucked and squealed a couple of time while I was ejaculating then screamed and quivered, her passage closing around me, making sure that she got every drop available.

I pulled out, leaving Nicki slumped over. I gave Stacey a casual slap on the bottom.

"Pull your panties up, woman, and blow in the pipe. Exercise period is over."

Blushing, Stacey did as she was told, hitching up her shorts, glaring at me as she did, as I was making it obvious I was enjoying the view.

She snatched the puff bag from me, and blew firmly into it. I took a quick glance at the reading and laughed.

"Exercise clearly works," I said. "You're fine."

I gave her a wink and strolled back to my bike.

When I mounted I noticed that Stacey was stuffing Nicki back in the car, Nicki's bottom still gleaming white in the sun. She slammed the door, went and got in the driver's seat and drove off. As she passed I noticed that she had a very large smirk on her face.

It was a week to the day and almost the same time of day when I spotted Stacey's car on the same stretch of highway. I naturally pulled her over and wandered over. She was, I noted, by herself this time.

"I wasn't speeding and I haven't had anything to drink," she said, not looking at me.

"That's fine," I said. "Do you mind stepping out of the car for a moment?"

I thought she was going to argue the point, but she thought better of it. She just gave a grumpy sigh and got out. I walked slowly around the car, checking it out. I glanced in the front passenger's side window and then called out to Stacey.

"Do you mind opening this door for a moment?"

She cast her eyes to the sky and stepped around the car, opened the door and stood clear so I could see inside.

"Can you tell me what that is?" I asked, stepping clear so she could look inside.

She stepped up and looked in and then turned around, puzzled, to find that I was standing fairly close behind her.

"That's just my purse," she snapped, "and you're not looking inside it."

"Don't want to," I said. "It had occurred to me that you had probably been wondering why I bypassed your delectable young body the other day in favour of your friend."

"I didn't give the matter a single thought," she said, tossing her head back.

"While I would dearly have loved to make your closer acquaintance at the time I had to settle on your friend, because touching you would have been tantamount to rape."

"What? How do you come to that conclusion? You didn't ask me to have sex with you. It was all our idea."

"No. You were scared and your friend suggested it. She probably made it seem like it was the only way out. You felt constrained into going along with it. You'd have let me take you, but you'd have felt violated. No way was I going to do that to you."

"Oh," said Stacey in a little voice. "Thank you, I guess. You didn't seem to have the same consideration for Nicki, I notice."

"Your friend, Nicki, is a tart," I said casually. "She was doing everything of her own volition. She probably boasted that I preferred her to you and sympathised with you."

From the sudden flush of annoyance I could see I'd got that one right.

"Yes, well, is that why you stopped me? To tell me that?"

"Partly," I admitted. "I wanted to set the record straight and also give you a chance to decide for yourself."

Stacey was wearing a nice little dress today. She looked a little puzzled and when she asked, "Decide what for myself," I lifted up her dress and tugged her panties down.

"Whether you are going to let me help you do some exercises," I said as she gave a yip and pushed at her dress, trying to stay covered.

"What!?"

"Unless you tell me not to, I'm going to turn you around, bend you over, lift up your dress and give you the same treatment that I gave your friend. The difference being that I'm going to take my time, not come and go in a heated rush, as the song says."

"That's the Pointer Sisters Slow Hand," she muttered.

By this time I'd taken her by the arm and was turning her toward the car.

"Wait a minute," she gasped. "People don't do things like this. You can't just pull down my panties and expect me to agree to you having sex with me."

"People do do this sort of thing. Far more than you probably realise. If you were a cop you'd find out that people do it in the strangest places. And," I added, as I encouraged her to lean over the seat, "I'm not asking you to agree. I'm just saying you'll have to tell me no if you want me to stop."

"Isn't that saying you want me to agree," she said, gasping as I flicked her dress out the way and started caressing her bottom.

"No," I explained. "It's leaving your options open. It means I can do something like this," poking a finger firmly against her pussy and generating a startled squawk, "and you can let it happen, knowing that you're not yet committed."

I was now rubbing her mound quite firmly, both hands in play. Stacey was squirming about, but not trying to avoid my touch.

"But how will you know I won't suddenly refuse?"

"I don't. It's a chance I have to take. But I think it's only fair to warn you that once my cock is inside you it might just be a bit late to decide to say no. Are you OK with that?"

"Bloody hell, I should think it was bit late to say don't fuck me when you're already doing it," she muttered. "I'm not sure about this. Not sure at all."

I didn't say anything. To pinch and amend a well know ad, I let my fingers do the talking. I caressed her bottom, I ran my hand back and forth across her mound, gently massaging. I started massaging from side to side, my hand dragging her lips apart first one way and then the other. Stacey squirmed and made some interesting sounds, but 'no' wasn't one of them.

My fingers dipped inside her, teasing deeper, rubbing back and forth, agitating her, getting her wanting a more thorough massage, one that only a cock could provide.

I'd unzipped by that stage, and my erection was standing firm. I slid it between her legs, rubbing it along her pussy, pressing the length of it against her slit, letting her know what was coming.

Stacey was breathing hard, squirming and pushing herself against me, ready for me.

"Oh god, you're really going to do it, aren't you," she gasped. "I can't believe this. Women don't get fucked in their cars like this. What if someone comes?"

"They won't see anything," I said calmly. "All they'll notice is an officer talking to a woman who's sitting in the passenger seat."

"This isn't sitting and that thing seems to be doing all the talking," she muttered.

I grinned. "But they won't know that," I pointed out.

I was already easing her lips apart and a few moments later the head of my cock was pressing firmly into the space provided.

"Oh my god," she squeaked, her voice rising. "I should be saying no. Why aren't I saying no?"

No way was I going to try to answer that question. I just kept pressing forward, feeling her passage yielding, letting me in. She was well lubricated and I slid home with a minimum of fuss.

Holding myself deep inside her, I gave her a gentle hint.

"I think it might be appropriate for you to say yes, now," I murmured.

She turned her head to look at me, but I don't think she really saw me. She was concentrating on what was happening to her.

Her head nodded like an automaton. "Say yes," she muttered. "I suppose I should. I'd look silly saying no now, wouldn't I. Oh my god, you're really fucking me. Yes. I'm saying yes. Are you happy? Now do it."

I pulled slowly back and returned, nice and slow. Well, when I say slow, it's a relative term. I pushed back in firmly and Stacey knew all about it. She squealed and pushed up to meet me. I kept it up like this for a while, slowly out and then firmly in, with Stacey squirming under me, pushing firmly up to meet met, gasping and muttering as we went.

I could sense she was getting a little impatient but I kept on the same way, waiting for her to say something. Finally she did so.

"I'm expected home sometime this evening," she pointed out. "Will you be finished by then?"

"A slow hand, remember?"

"Fine. Consider me clapping slowly. Now can you use that thing or is it just hung on you for decoration?"

I started moving faster, hearing Stacey give a hiss of satisfaction. The faster rate, naturally enough, pushed her toward a climax faster. She was moving against me with more enthusiasm, pressing eagerly, wanting me deeper, ever deeper. Harder and faster were the orders of the day and harder and faster was what I delivered.

Going by the intensity of Stacey's squealing she was getting close to her climax, and I increased the tempo once more. Now I was really banging hard against her, enjoying the feel of a willing woman coming to a climax from my administrations.

Stacey gave a sudden loud squeal and started clamping down on me. It was all I needed to let fly and we came together hard and fast, our mutual orgasms mingling.

I disengaged and tidied myself up. Then I stayed until Stacey was back in the land of the living. She dragged her panties back on and scrambled into the driver's seat. She gave me a last look and then drove off. Driving rather slowly and looking very smug, I noticed. We officers live to serve.