Officer Betty and Me

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Black man and white female police officer become friends.
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The moment I saw the flashing red-and-blues in my rear-view I knew I was fucked. A black male being pulled over in his deceased uncle's pickup on a secluded road in rural Georgia...

"Shit...!" I blurted out to no one as I slowed the truck and pulled to the shoulder. I cut the engine and tried to follow the officer's movements in the mirror. It was still dark out at 5:00AM.

License, insurance, title papers, Uncle Jonathan's death certificate...I went through the checklist and made sure my hands were in plain-sight as the officer approached on the passenger side.

"You know why I pulled you over, sir?" A small but authoritative voice accompanied the high-beam of the flashlight.

Two things caught me off guard: it was a woman and she was very short - her face was just barely visible over the door. I was certain she was standing on her toes.

"Yes, ma'm", I replied handing her my documents. "I only noticed that the headlight wasn't working last night. I was gonna replace it..."

"This your truck, sir?" she cut me off.

"Actually, no ma'm. It was my uncle's. He passed away a few weeks ago, and I'm here in town getting his affairs in order."

She looked over my Philadelphia driver's license and shuffled through the papers I'd given her and found the death certificate.

"I'll have to check this out, sir. Wait here."

"Where the hell you think I'm going...?" I mumbled as she walked back to her cruiser.

Ten-minutes later she returned with my documents. This time she was on the driver's side. I could see her face a little better - freckles, blue-eyes, red-hair pulled back in a tight bun.

"Alright, Mr. Clayton. Everything checks out. Please have the headlight taken care of." She passed each item back to me one-at-a-time. "And, sir...sorry for your loss. I knew your uncle...he was a good man."

That last part REALLY caught me off guard.

"Thanks. Thank you." I stammered. "Yes, ma'm. I'll get it fixed today."

She walked back to her patrol car and we were both on our way.

The remainder of my day was uneventful. I visited the lawyer and signed everything - Uncle Jonathan had never married or had children - he'd left everything to me and my mother. Mom had passed last year, so her portion came to me - her only child. I spent the rest of the day at the County Clerk's Office, and before going back to the farm I stopped to have the headlight changed.

I was now the owner of 20 acres of Georgia farmland. I had NO IDEA what I was going to do with it.

Since I was definitely NOT going to do any farming of my own, a friend who had been in a similar situation recommended that I sell the equipment - Uncle Jonathan did have a few debts outstanding to be resolved. So I made a few calls and set up an auction for the coming weekend.

There was a pretty good turn out on Saturday. Almost everything sold. I covered all the outstanding bills and had enough left over to cover expenses for a few months while I decided what I wanted to do. I was a city-boy by nature, and the "farm-life" was not my style. But after a few days staying in my uncle's (now MY) house, I started to feel relaxed. Maybe "living for the city" had run its course in me...

On Sunday I ventured into town for breakfast and some supplies. A very "Mayberry" kind of place, but the people were cordial. I was expecting "rednecks and Klansmen" but found none - a VERY pleasant surprise.

At the local diner, I settled into a booth for some grits and coffee and the local paper. I was reading about the local football talent being recruited by Georgia Tech when I was interrupted.

"Hope you got that headlight squared away, Mr. Clayton."

I almost didn't recognize her. She was heavier and older than I had realized, probably not that much younger than me (mid-40s). Her heart-shaped face was covered with freckles. She wore light makeup, and an Atlanta Brave's baseball cap, with a tuft of red-ponytail protruding from the back. A faded grey t-shirt that was definitely way too small, which only made her boobs seem that much larger, jeans and pink, platform-style flip-flops, adorned with daisies.

My eyes stayed fixed on her breasts longer than they should have, because her height put them directly in my "line of fire".

"Yes, I did, Officer..." I stammered, pulling myself together. "Did it that very day."

"Good." she smiled. "Would have had to run you in if you didn't."

"Can't have that." I shot back.

"I'll let you get back to your paper." She grinned as she walked away.

My eyes followed as she moved off. Flat-buns and wide hips, thickness where it counts in the thighs. Slight belly-roll and very pale skin. A tattoo on her right elbow. And a lot cuter than I remembered.

I'd almost forgotten the exchange and went back to the paper when she interrupted me again.

"The name's Betty, by the way. Betty Craddock." She gave me a BIG-GEORGIA smile as she extended her hand. I smiled back, stood and accepted her firm grip.

"Very nice to officially meet you, Miss Craddock. Guess you know my name already." (Derrick Clayton)

We both realized that we were still holding hands longer than necessary and made brief, awkward small-talk.

"So, maybe I'll see you around?" she finished again.

"I hope so," I smiled. "Seeing you again would be nice."

She smiled, blushed and turned to go. I checked her out again as she left the diner.

I decided to take my time and stay in Georgia a while longer. I sold several acres of land to neighboring farms for a tidy profit. I retained 5 acres and the house, which I decided to renovate.

Over the coming weeks, I developed a routine about town. I became a regular at the diner on weekdays, which is where I usually saw my new friend, "Officer Betty" (my nickname for her - she continued to call me "Mr. Clayton"). We smiled and innocently flirted, before she blushed and went on duty.

Something about her in that uniform was really hot!

The rest of the time I put my contractor and handyman skills to good use fixing my new home.

One night I got an unexpected visit. As I was clearing up wood-scraps from the front porch, a patrol car pulled into the yard. Officer Betty and a male officer got out and greeted me. She introduced her partner, Dan, and I gave them a tour of the house and my renovations.

Dan was a friendly enough guy. Although he seemed a little suspicious of the all-too obvious flirtations between me and Betty.

The visit was brief, and as they were leaving, Betty pulled me aside while her partner returned to the car.

"I hope you don't mind me stoppin' in unannounced like this..." she said almost shyly. "I just wanted Dan to meet you, and I wanted to see how you were gettin' along."

"Wow..." I said, taken aback. "I never felt so safe in my life."

She blushed again.

"Drop by anytime," I assured her. "Partner or no partner, you're always welcome here."

She double-blushed.

"If you like barbeque, I plan on firin' up the grill this weekend..." I informed her. "Bring your favorite beer and your best appetite."

"Ok..!" she smiled and blushed her way back to the car. I waved to them as they pulled off down the dirt path to the blacktop.

I was looking forward to the weekend.

It was almost 1:00PM on Saturday, when the familiar patrol car pulled up in front of the house. Officer Betty, still in uniform plus pink-daisy flip-flops, was several hours earlier than I was expecting her.

"My shift just ended." she laughed when I joked about her footwear. "Beer's in the trunk."

She'd visited the local beer and wine distributor and "stocked up" - there was enough beer in the trunk to open a bar.

"Wasn't sure what you liked so I tried a variety..." she grinned.

We laughed as I helped her carry half of it to the fridge and cooler. I'd equally over-done things with the cooking: a rack of ribs, burgers, hotdogs, steaks, chicken, and sausages. Not to mention my mother's recipes for potato salad, cheese-biscuits and corn bread. But it worked out just fine - Betty was not shy about having as much food and beer as she liked. I've always liked a woman with an appetite!

We sat at the breakfast table I'd set up on the back porch and ate, drank, laughed and talked for hours. I told her about Philly, my extended leave of absence from the school where I taught, getting affairs in order for my mother and uncle. She told me about her family (only a step-sister), the Army, service in Iraq, and wanting to go to school to become a veterinarian.

I admitted to her how nervous I was when she'd pulled me over that morning. That I thought she looked really hot in her uniform (this was after 5 or 6 beers), but was still a little intimidated.

"So, what turns you on and scares you the most?" she was getting bolder too. "The badge, the gun or just me?"

"All of the above...!" I laughed. "But I have to admit that the freckles, the red-hair and the hand-cuffs REALLY gets me going..."

"Oooo...nice combination!" she giggled. "Wonder which one I should use on you first...?"

"Surprise me..."

The tension was thick. The crotch of my jeans was tight and uncomfortable. Something was going to happen - soon!

"Surprise..." she grinned pulling hand-cuffs from her utility belt. I grinned too.

"Let's go inside." She said and took my hand and pulled me towards the back door.

She led me into the living room and jangled the cuffs in my face.

"You sure you wanna do this?" she asked, "I can get kinda wild..."

I paused.

"I think I can trust you." I smiled. "Just don't leave any permanent marks."

"Can't make any promises..." she said stepping closer.

We kissed. A long, wet, hungry kiss that left us both panting for air.

"Put your hands behind you." she ordered, suddenly becoming the police officer I'd encounter on the morning we'd met. I obeyed and she firmly fastened the cuffs.

When she was certain my hands were secure, she kissed me again.

"You're not carrying anything on your person that could be considered harmful, are you Mr. Clayton?" she said in her most authentic cop-voice.

"No, ma'm..." I assured her.

"Better let me be the judge of that." she said, forcing me to straighten my back and spread my legs wide.

Her "search" was thorough. She patted me down from head to toe - deliberately skipping my crotch-area.

"You sure you're not carrying anything I need to be concerned about, Mr. Clayton?" she asked, staring at the bulge in my pants.

"Absolutely certain, Officer..." I assured again.

I almost lost it when she firmly placed her palm against my member and began to slowly rub me up and down. I bit my lower-lip and tried to maintain myself.

"So what's THIS, Mr. Clayton!? Hmmmm...?"

I couldn't respond.

"Last chance to come clean, Mr. Clayton." she informed me as she slowly undid my zipper. In her next move, my jeans and shorts were pulled down to my knees.

I was at least relieved to finally have my member freed from its confines.

"So, what do you call THIS, Mr. Clayton?" she inquired pointing at my hard throbbing cock. Betty was in full cop-mode now. "What were you planning on doing with that? Were you gonna use it on me...?"

She stepped closer, staring up into my face. Her small hand could only encircle 3/4 of my cock. I've never had much length (only 8"), but I've always been proud of my girth (5 1/2").

"You're gonna do everything I tell you, Mr. Clayton." she said gently but firmly stroking me. "Everything."

She pulled my head down and kissed me roughly. I had a hard time keeping my balance, so she walked me backwards until I came up against the wall. She pulled up my t-shirt and started kissing my chest and nipples, and then my stomach. Beads of sweat ran down my forehead when she finally wrapped her lips around the head of my dick. One hand stroked my shaft while the other fondled my balls.

"Ohmigod..." was all I could mutter.

I looked down at her head bobbing on my dick, her hair was still done in a tight bun. She looked up at me with those sweet blue-green eyes.

"Can't hold it much longer, Officer..." I warned her. "I'm gonna cum...!"

"Good." she said, briefly separating her mouth from my cock. "And you better cum hard, too!"

She intensified her efforts. I didn't last more than 2 minutes after that.

"Oh shit!" I announced.

She didn't remove her mouth and swallowed every drop. She literally sucked and stroked me dry. It took everything I had to keep from falling.

"Very good, Mr. Clayton." Betty said as stood. "That load was huge and very, very tasty." she grinned and licked the remaining jism from her lips.

"Now let's really get things going..." she announced as she removed her shoes, belt and pants. She unbuttoned her shirt but kept it on.

"You really got me all wet, Mr. Clayton." There was a dark spot at the crotch of her pink, cotton panties. "You're gonna have to do something about that."

She removed her panties and ordered me to get on my knees. She stood over me and pressed her moist pussy into my nostrils - the scent was intense. I could feel my cock already starting to harden again.

"You like that smell, don't you, Mr. Clayton? But I bet it tastes even better."

Betty pressed my face into her crotch. Her pubics were shaved into a neat, oval-shaped patch. She moaned when I flicked my tongue across her clit. I was in an awkward and uncomfortable position - literally and figuratively - but I was determined to please this lady.

She held my head in place and grinded her hips into my face. I sucked and licked her pussy with everything I had.

"Yes!" she snarled as she humped my chin. "Eat that pussy, Mr. Clayton! Eat that pussy...!"

A few minutes later she suddenly tensed, gasped and screamed my name.

"Mr. Clayton...Derrick...I'm cummin', baby...!"

She lost her balance and fell on top off me. We were a sweaty, panting mass on my living room floor. Slowly righting herself and then me, I noticed her wiping tears from her cheeks.

"You OK?" I immediately asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Oh, no...I'm alright." she replied shyly, and blushing as she explained. "I always cry when I...when I cum."

"OK," I was relieved. "I didn't want to mess things up already..."

"I'll let you know if and when you do." she shot back. Without saying another word, Betty helped me to my feet and proceeded to remove my shoes and pants.

"Where's the bedroom?" the police officer asked/ordered. I motioned to the hallway past the kitchen.

Firmly taking my growing cock in her hand, she led me to my bedroom. Once inside, she un-cuffed me and pushed me back onto my bed. I was both impressed and scared at how surprisingly strong this 5'3" woman was.

I watched as she removed her uniform-blouse, t-shirt and bra. Her huge breasts sagged slightly, but her bright-pink nipples stood perfectly erect. Her intense gaze never left me. She finally undid the tight bun of red-hair that fell just past her shoulders and climbed onto the bed, and then onto me.

"Do you want me, Mr. Clayton?" she said staring down at me. She rubbed against me with my cock pressed between her belly and mines.

"Yes!" I snarled through clenched teeth.

"Then show me!" she snapped back.

I grabbed her by the hips and lifted her. Betty spread her legs wide and I lowered her onto my fully erect member. She was very wet and much tighter than I expected. We both gasped getting accustomed to the new sensation - thick cock meets tight pussy.

"Pl-please, go slow..." she whispered with her eyes half closed. I pulled her down onto me, chest-to-chest, and gripped her flat ass-cheeks, spreading them slightly. I made a slow deliberate thrust up and into her. On the third thrust, Betty began pushing back against me, each time I bottomed out inside her.

"Oh, Derrick..." Betty moaned. "Your dick feels so fucking good..."

She kissed me, hard and long - our lips locked and tongues danced. She held my head in her hands like she was trying to crush my skull. I think the kiss was more intense than the sex.

My metal-framed bed began to creak as Betty started bucking and thrusting her hips harder and faster against me. Her moans became louder as we stayed locked in the kiss. I hadn't enjoyed kissing someone that much since I was in high school.

"Derrick, baby...Mr. Clayton...!" she panted breaking the kiss. She was staring down into my face, and I could see her eyes beginning to fill with tears. "You're gonna make me cum...I'm gonna cum on your big cock...ohmigod..."

Betty's face was completely flushed, as the tears began to flow. Her legs stiffened and I could feel her pussy get even tighter - I thought she might crush my cock.

When she was done I could feel her full body-weight collapse on top of me. We just laid there breathing together. After a while I started to pull out but she stopped me.

"No, don't pull out..." she whispered - I think she was still "playing" cop.

So we just lay there. My dick was throbbing inside of her - I still wanted to fuck. But I continued to just lay there motionless, with her on top of me. I contented myself with stroking and fondling her ass.

A few minutes later, she fell asleep. So I kissed her forehead to rouse her.

"Oh...shit...I'm sorry...!" she lifted herself from my chest.

"Not a problem, Officer." I smiled. I took the opportunity to thrust into her a few times. She didn't protest so I continued.

We were both drenched in sweat, and she didn't have the energy she had before. I rolled us over until I was fully on top and rode her.

"Mr. Clayton...ohmigod...!"

I pounded her with everything I had - for some reason I felt I'd "earned" this. Her pussy was still wet and sloshy from her orgasms.

When I finally came, I came hard. This time I collapsed onto her, before rolling off to lay beside her. It took us both a few minutes to catch our breathes.

I finally dozed off. When I awoke it was 12:45AM. Betty was snoring softly next to me. I got up and went around the house checking on things (lights, doors, etc.), before returning to bed.

The next morning I was aroused by the smell of eggs and bacon and I found Betty in my kitchen sipping coffee, wearing one of my t-shirts. I fixed myself a plate and sat across from her.

"So, how you feeling this morning, Officer?" I smiled at her.

"A little sore," she smiled back, "but at least it's a GOOD kinda sore."

We talked and ate, and then cleaned up from the night before. We watched the afternoon football games and hung out in my living room. Throughout the day we had sex at least three more times before she left later that evening.

I wasn't quite sure where things were going, but I was looking forward to finding out...

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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

well written a fun too great job ,not all bbc and white bitch stuff

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago
feel the same

black men are not specialty items. we can do so much more than being bbc or some fantasy cook up by some shelter white woman. we not "hood" or thug for most we just normal dude wishing the world to not give us another label that we did not ask for. with that thank you for the story

BlackRexxxBlackRexxxover 6 years ago
More...

I Love Real Love Stories With Black Men & Women Of All Ethnic. We Romance Women To. We Don't Just Like Cuckold Relationship.

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