“Please, officer,” I say, pleading and fear – genuine this time – in my voice.
“I gave you an order to remain in your car,” he says. “You disobeyed. When an officer tells you to remain in your car, you are to
I breath in deeply, hold my breath for a few seconds, trying to compose myself. I hadn’t done anything other than speed a little and run a
stop sign – maybe I can still get out of this. I look back over my shoulder at him, again trying for my most seductive little pouty face.
“Officer, I’m so sorry,” I say drawing out my words. “I just wanted to come see you in your car, maybe see if we could…I don’t know, reach
some kind of arrangement.” I lean away from him just a little, pushing my ass toward him.
I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going with this. Hell, I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going when I got out of the car and walked toward
him. I suppose I was thinking of standing outside his car, maybe leaning into the window, letting him get a big old eyeful of my cleavage,
hell, I’d even kiss him and let him have a feel, I suppose.
“An arrangement?” he asks.
I see him glancing up and down my body. I guess I’m dressed right today – my tight button-down red blouse, a white skirt that doesn’t quite
reach my knees, and the red heels.
I nod, running my tongue across my lips as I step back from the fence and turn to face the officer.
Suddenly he whips a set of handcuffs off of his belt with one hand, reaches up and grabs my right arm with his other hand. Before I can
react – other than gasp – he’s got one ring of cuffs around my right wrist. He steps to my side, yanks my arm up high over my head, then
locks the other ring around the fence.
I try to pull away, but my arm is stretched so far above me I lose my balance for a second. He grabs me, twirls me so that I’m fully facing
the fence – I grab it with my left hand and hold on – and then he puts a foot between my feet. He kicks my right foot out to the side, then
the left – forcing me into a wide stands, which pulls even harder on the cuffed wrist.
“Please, officer…” I call out, panic in my voice.
He puts his hands on my shoulders. I’m breathing hard now, mostly from panic, and my body shudders at his touch.
“Shall I add attempting to proposition an officer to the charges?” he asks.
I feel tears welling now. I look up and down the street – there are two guys about fifty feet away, two teens maybe 18 or 19 years old,
watching, one with a crooked grin on his face, the other with eyes nearly bugging out of this head and his mouth gapping. I glance up – the
buildings have the old-style windows, the kind you slide up to open. There’s an old woman leaning out of one, staring down at us. Above her
a fat old bald man stares down, smiling.
“I’m sorry,” I plead, my voice tight with panic. “I’m really, really sorry,” I repeat, and I mean it. My voice trembles when I speak, and
now tears start running down my face.
Then I feel him up against me, his body pressing against mine. His arms encircle me, and then his hands – he starts groping my breasts,
squeezing hard, while he presses his lips against the back of my neck.
I yank on the cuffs – they hold tight – and try to wiggle free. Panic rises…panic and some strange, unexpected little thrill that runs
through my body.
“Please, you can’t…there are people watching.”
He laughs. “Yes, they’re my people, on my beat. They know me, and they’re not going to rat me out.”
I glance back up the building at the man and woman, and a shudder races through me. I’m not sure why – I should be scared, I am scared, but
there’s something else. I almost feel aroused.
He squeezes harder – so hard it hurts a little – and I feel his teeth on the back of my neck, just grazing the skin as he kisses. Next thing
I know, he’s slipped his hands down, up under my blouse, and he's cupping my breasts in his hands. I’m wearing a bra, and he slips his
fingers over the top edge, pinching my nipples.
“Yes, I think we could make an arrangement,” he says, his voice low and hoarse now.
“Please,” I whisper, wiggling, instinctively trying to move from his grasp.
He lets go of me and steps back.
“Then again, perhaps I write you up, take you down to the station so your hubby can come down and bail you out, watch while you have to
explain to him how you ended up charged with solicitation.”
He slaps my ass hard. I flinch.
“Yes, trying to proposition an officer in exchange for goods, services, or other considerations, with the offer of sexual favors.”
He leans against me, his hands now down along my hips. “It’s a serious crime,” he whispers.
I shiver, though I realize down deep it's not from fear. I yank on the handcuff again – I liked the feel of the metal biting into my wrist,
the weight of his body against mine. And yes, god help me, the feel of his hands on my hips send desire coursing through me.
I moan, press my ass back, hard against him. I feel hi, growing hard and large -- incredibly large -- inside his pants.
I close my eyes and groan as his hands slide down my legs. Soon they are under my skirt, working their way back up my legs, his fingers
pressing hard against my thighs, his touch electric on my skin.
My heart skips a beat when his fingers slips under the edge of my panties..