You Have the Right to Blow

The road was so dark that my mirror was am empty black spot on the windshield, and then all off a sudden it burst into color: A bright red light, from what looked like an unmarked cop car. Perfect, I thought, this is the last place a girl would want to get pulled over. I turned onto a dirt side road and then into a little clearing, shut off the engine, and waited.

"License and registration, please, ma'am." I couldn't see his face; the cop was just a wall of blue uniform outside my Honda's window. I handed them out to him.

"Mrs. Carrington?" the officer said.

"Miss," I said.

"What are you doing out here so late, Miss Carrington?"

"Just taking a drive," I said. "That's legal, isn't it? I don't think I was speeding."

"Have you been drinking tonight?" the officer asked.

"Just Diet Coke," I said. He shined his flashlight into my upturned face, then down to my cleavage, than back up again.

"Step outside of the car, please, Miss Carrington."

I did as I was told.

"Miss Carrington, I'm going to give you a field sobriety test. Would you blow into this balloon for me, please?"

The officer handed me an everyday party balloon, 11 or 12", green. Wait, didn't they have those little Breathalyzer machines now? No matter. I looked at the officer, but with his bright flashlight shining in my face, I couldn't see his. I took the balloon, stretched it out (old habit!), and inhaled, filling my lungs. The officer's light seemed to drop a little as my breasts pressed against my blouse, then back up again as I put the balloon to my lips and blew. The balloon blossomed into a small ball, and I pinched it and handed it to him, trying my best to ignore the warmth stirring deep inside me, that wonderful thing I always felt when I blew up balloons.

He didn't take it.

"Bigger, please, ma'am," he said.

Warmth turned to tingling. I took another deep breath and blew again.

"Bigger, Miss Carrington." I blew another big breath into the balloon, and he reached for it and seemed to look it over. What kind of test was this? I thought. His flashlight had ruined my night vision, but I heard the air whooshing out of the balloon.

"Did I pass, Officer?" I asked, but the cop said nothing.

"Stay right here," he said, and turned his back on me, walking to his car. A moment later, he returned. Again, the flashlight blinded me. His hand extended, and in it was another balloon. As a life-long looner, I knew exactly what it was: 16", probably a Unique, marble pattern.

"Blow into this balloon, please, Miss Carrington."

"Officer, is there a problem?" I asked.

"Just blow," the cop said. His voice had taken on a harder edge, and I felt my heart rate increase.

I was starting to get nervous. I was also starting to get wet.

I stretched the balloon, took a deep breath (the flashlight dipping again as I inhaled), and blew. The balloon was made of thick latex, and I had to blow hard to start it. I emptied my lungs, and when the officer said nothing, I took a deep breath and blew the balloon bigger And bigger. And bigger.

"How big do I need to blow this up?" I asked.

"Just keep blowing, ma'am," said the voice behind the flashlight.

Oh my God, I thought, he's telling me to blow! This was my fantasy come true, being made to blow up balloons, and it was better than I could have imagined.

And so I did as I was told, blowing the balloon bigger and bigger, until it obscured my vision and glowed with the light from the officer's flash. I blew until the balloon started to resist, and the neck started to inflate. I have blown up hundreds of Q16s over the years, many to the point of, shall we say, catastrophic structural failure, and I know when they aren't going to take any more without bursting. This one was getting there. Still, the cop said nothing.

"Officer, I think this balloon is about as big as it's going to get," I said.

"Just keep blowing, ma'am," he repeated.

"Officer, I think this balloon is about to-"

"I said keep blowing, Miss Carrington," he interrupted. Was that edge back in his voice?

I put the balloon to my lips and blew again. The neck was getting longer and it was getting harder to keep the balloon in my mouth. I pinched off the end and said "Sir, I think if I blow any more, there are going to be reports of shots fired."

"I told you to blow. I did not tell you to stop. Now blow." Yes, the edge was definitely back, and my heart was definitely beating faster.

I was in the middle of nowhere. I was alone with this cop, this male cop, this big male cop with a gun, who apparently had a thing for making women blow up balloons. I was helpless, and I knew I had to do what he said.

I was scared. And I was horny as hell.

Let's just get this over with, I thought. I took a big breath, put the balloon back into my mouth, and blew. The balloon resisted but did not pop. I used my teeth to stretch what little of the nozzle was left, then inhaled deeply through my nose, filling my lungs until I thought they too were on the point of bursting. I closed my eyes and blew as hard as I could, willing the balloon to explode, subconsciously leaning forward as if I could force more air into the balloon with my whole body. I blew and blew and blew, emptying my lungs, until I was positive there was not one molecule of -

BANG!!

The balloon exploded with a tremendous report, shredded by my lungs into tiny shards that disappeared into the darkness. Only the ring of the nozzle was left, still between mylips.

The flashlight didn't flinch.

"Thank you, Miss Carrington," the cop said. "Now turn around and face the car."

"Have I done something wrong, officer?" I asked. I could hear a hint of panic in my voice. "You said to keep blowing, so I did, I told you the balloon was going to pop if I blew it any bigger, and I -"

"Stop talking and face the car. Put your hands on the roof, legs shoulder-width apart. I'm going to frisk you. I will not touch any sensitive areas."

That's what he thinks, I thought, because every area of my body was now at the height of sensitivity.

All went dark as he set the flashlight down, and I felt his big, strong hands on my wrists. Chills followed his palms up my arms, over my shoulders, and down my back. His hands came around to my stomach and paused, as if he was embracing me, and then moved upwards. Images of a sexual harassment lawsuit flashed through my brain, but his hands stopped just a half-inch below the underside of my breasts. Next the hands were on my hips, and he paused again.

"You're not wearing any underwear, are you, Miss Carrington? You're not out here soliciting, are you?"

"No, officer," I said. I licked my lips and tasted the latex of the balloon I had blown to its destruction.

The hands slid down my outer thighs, then around to my inner thighs, and I shuddered. Now I was wishing his hands would move upwards... but they didn't. They were sliding down to my ankles. The frisk was done, and already I missed the touch of his hands. He picked up the flashlight.

"Turn around, Miss Carrington." I did, squinting my eyes against the glare of the flashlight.

"I'm not allowed to touch your sensitive areas. Only a female officer to do that. But I am allowed to look, and that's what I intend to do. Open your blouse, Miss Carrington."

"Officer, I don't understand," I said. "Am I being arrested? Am I under suspicion? I've done everything you ask!"

"I have reason to believe you are intoxicated, Miss Carrington," he said. "You seemed to have no reaction when that balloon popped. Most women would have screamed or jumped. You did not. That indicates a dulling of the senses, which indicates that you may be inebriated."

"I'm not drunk, officer," I said. "I've blown a lot of balloons to popping, hundreds, maybe thousands, and I -"

"Open your blouse, Miss Carrington," he said. This time, the edge was razor sharp.

I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it open, thinking that this couldn't possibly be standard police procedure.

A hand extended into the flashlight beam.

There was a balloon in it, of a size I knew very, very well. It was a 36" balloon. Blue, of course. From the neck size, I guessed it was a Unique or a Qualatex.

"Blow this up," the cop's voice commanded. "Now."

With a trembling hand I took the big balloon and put it to my lips, inhaled, and paused.

"All the way?" I ask.

"Just blow," he said. "I'll tell you exactly what I want. And right now, I want you to blow."

And so I blew. When the balloon was about a foot around, the officer spoke: "Hold it down, in front of your chest, so I can see your face."

I hugged the balloon against me, arms around it and hands clasped in front, and blew it bigger and bigger and bigger. The feeling of the latex expanding against the exposed top of my breasts and growing in my arms was turning me on like crazy. I wanted to get this over with, but I also wanted it to go on as long as possible. I blew quickly and steadily, the balloon spreading my arms. Soon it was big enough to separate my hands; soon I had blown it so big that my arms were spread wide. The balloon was nearly full and I was bracing myself for the pop when the officer spoke.

"Stop blowing," he said. "Now keep the balloon in front of you and take off your bra."

"Sorry?"

"You heard me!" For the first time, his voice was raised. "I said, take off your bra."

I shuffled the balloon from hand to hand, undoing the clasp, taking one arm out of the strap, and then the other, and finally dropping the bra on the ground in front of me. The flashlight beam dropped, and I was surprised at how big my bra looked, sitting there on the dirt like so much discarded latex. The flashlight beam came back up to my face. I squinted and pressed the latex against my hard nipples.

"Now start blowing. I want to see your bare breasts."

I put the balloon in my mouth and started to lift it to show him, when he shouted "Don't move that balloon one goddamn inch!" I jumped as if the balloon had popped. "Blow the balloon until I can see those big fucking tits of yours!"

Shaking (from nervousness or excitement, I know not), I began inflating the balloon. It seemed to take forever, the balloon swelling to an incredible size. Anyone who has blown a Unique 36 to popping knows that they don't give you much warning before they go, just a slight bulge at the neck, and then...

BANG!!

The balloon burst, and I saw one giant, spit-soaked sheet of latex fly through the flashlight beam. I stood there, the wind cool on my now-exposed nipples. I could see nothing but the bright light, but I knew the cop could see everything he wanted.

"Turn around and face the car, ma'am," he said in a calm voice. "Hands on the roof, legs spread, just like you were before." I did as I was told.

"I don't see any contraband on your body, but that doesn't mean you haven't concealed it," the officer said. "I am not allowed to check with my hands. However, there is nothing that says I can't probe with something else."

And then I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper.

I felt those powerful hands on my hips, lifting up my skirt, pulling my hips outward.

"Do I have permission to perform a thorough search?" The officer's voice was close and quiet, and I could feel his warm breath on my ear.

"Yes, officer, you most certainly do," I said softly.

"The law limits the time I may take for a search." The wind was cold against my exposed ass, but there was something warm there also... warm and hard.

"I don't have a timer, but..." A hand left my hip and proffered a balloon, another big one. I took it. It was too dark to see the color. The hand disappeared. Where was it? Was he guiding himself towards me? I put the balloon up to my mouth, took a deep breath... and then he entered me. Oh, god! There was no resistance, my wetness welcoming his hardness as it slid deep inside me.

"Blow, Miss Carrington," he whispered in my ear.

"Yes, officer," I said.

I put the balloon to my lips, took a deep breath, and began to inflate the balloon. I blew fast and hard, enough to get light-headed, as he started to thrust faster and faster. I was lost in the moment, loving the feeling of being bent over my car, fucked like a common tramp by some cop whose face I could not see. A hand came off my hip and reappeared on my breast, cupping it, my soft fullness overflowing his meaty palm. Now his other hand was taking my other breast, squeezing my nipple. I concentrated on blowing the balloon, blowing it as big and tight as I could, blowing it to the inevitable explosion that would end this torrid passion. I felt the first stirrings of an orgasm as I blew the balloon bigger and bigger, the officer fucking me faster and faster, the balloon swelling, the neck bulging, and...

Oh, the balloon!! How big was it? I couldn't see in the dark, and I didn't want him to stop. Maybe I should let some air out. How big had I blown it? I took another breath and started to blow...

BANG!! And as the balloon exploded, I felt the thunderous shaking of an orgasm!

His cock seemed to stiffen and quiver inside of me. "Down!" he yelled. "Down on the ground" I dropped to my knees, feeling the pebbles cutting into my skin, kneeling before the cop, and had just enough time to say "Now you blow for me, baby, blow your big load in my face!" before he thrust his cock deep into my mouth. I tasted the juices of my own cunt on his skin and felt his rock-hard cock jerk and spasm as he blasted his load of cum into my throat, and it reminded me of the way I'd blasted those big balloons to pieces with my breath. I swallowed hard. He pulled his wet cock out of my mouth and I dropped to all fours, panting. I didn't look up.

I heard the officer kneel down beside me. "That was amazing, Miss Carrington," he said.

"It sure was," I said, still facing the ground. "Can't wait for next time. Nurse and patient, right?"

"You bet, sweetie," he said. "and I'll bring the balloons again."

I kept my head down, eyes on the dirt. I heard his feet walking away and the crunch of gravel under his tires as he pulled onto the main road and sped away.

I got in my Honda, started the engine, and drove home.