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Old 18-Mar-18, 14:18
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default At Any Speed

Something that I wrote for a friend that I found on flash drive this morning. Just thought I'd share it...



At Any Speed



The speed was intoxicating...


As a warm wind rushed through her dark hair, she could not contain her roguish joy. What better than a warm night, an empty road and a high performance machine under her command? Her Audi A8 hummed with power and precision. She was in her element and all-powerful as the Pacific Coast Highway rose and then fell away, snaked and veered, woman and machine hugged the road as close as lovers in an embrace. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, her eyes narrowed with focus and a devilish smile grew across her beautiful face. Freedom was an open road that beckoned without concern for a destination.


So encompassed was she in her personal roadway adventure, that it never occurred to her that, by some chance, she might not be entirely alone. So as the lights on the police cruiser began to flash in her rear view mirror like an explosion of fireworks, her shock was palpable, her heart leaped into her throat and an ominous weight grew in the pit of her stomach. She was caught – red-handed.


As she fumbled to find her license and registration papers, she looked in her rear-view mirror to check on the progress and mood of the officer in the cruiser behind her. Would it be a female officer? Would it be some old guy playing everything “by the book”? Secretly she hoped for a younger cop, maybe one that she might sway with feminine wiles. “C’mon! C’mon!” she thought. “Let me see what I’m working with!”


Her form was sleek and lithe, the product of commitment to all manner of fitness activities. Her frame was sculpted with the type of athletic, aesthetic muscle that was both functional and highly attractive across the full expanse of her 5’10” body. Not expecting any type of interruption on this evening’s ride, her attire was set for comfort -- her cropped athletic top was a form fitting, sleeveless hoodie that came to an enticing end just above the navel. It highlighted her capped shoulders, the deep groove created where her lower back muscles fell in towards her supple spine and the sexy, flat abdominals built through countless workouts.


She knew that her lower half didn’t need the help that her yoga pants gave her, as her buttocks was rounded and taut, the vision that launched dozens of workplace fantasies. Her legs were those that could be found on collegiate middle distance runners, with glorious full hamstrings and quads sweeping into gloriously developed calves. High-arched, meticulously pedicured feet wearing only stylish flip flops were found at what seemed like a meandering, mile long journey from where the tops of her luscious legs began. Truly, she was a physical beauty unlike any other, something not lost on her throughout her experience in dealing with the opposite sex. She had the goods and knew how to use them.


For the moment, however, the wait was killing her. Always a bit of a speed demon, she knew that another big traffic ticket could cause some problems for her. Never one to ease up on the gas pedal, she had accumulated enough infractions that one more could put in jeopardy her ability to drive at all, let alone test the limits of her A8 as she so loved to do. Silently she prayed for a cute male cop that she might sway. As she did so, she checked herself out in the rear view mirror one extra time, just to ensure that her countenance was pleasing and everything was in order. Resetting it to again view the cruiser behind her, she observed the driver’s side door open. The show was about to get under way.


As he stepped out of the cruiser, her eyes widened with wonder. This one was a specimen of masculinity. He was big, this one, and seemingly cut from granite. His arms were ripe with sinewy muscle with veins that populated his exposed forearms and biceps like roadways all their own. While his patrol hat and mirrored glasses obstructed a definitive view, his features were rugged and manly. He was clean-shaven, true, but the structure of his jawline suggested that this face could look delectable even with a weekend’s worth of stubble. His uniform strained to contain his physique that looked like it belonged on a football linebacker. He had to be at least 6’5” and all man. She allowed herself a quick grin. If he was willing, she had a chance. She moved the zipper on the front of her top down a couple more inches, revealing her surprisingly perky busom. It would be foolish to not work to her advantages.


As she rolled down her window, she was greeted by his husky voice that managed to stand up the hairs on the back of her neck. “We were going a little fast there weren’t we ma’am? Can I please see your license and registration papers, please?”


“I’m sorry, officer”, she demurred, while her eyes continued to drink him in, “I just got a little lost in the new Volbeat album and I kinda lost track of how fast I was going.”


As she reached out to hand over her documents, she “mistakenly” fumbled the transfer, causing them to fall to the ground. Maybe as he moved down to pick them up he would sneak a peak at her over his very intrusive shades. If she could just make eye contact, maybe, she thought, she could begin to melt him with her hazel eyes that always made men weak. His game face never changed, however, as he moved to pick up the papers with his large, strong hands. “Okay, Miss…I have to go process your documents, please stay here and leave the car turned off”, he demanded. This one would be a tough nut, for sure.


As he strode back to his car, she expertly used the side view mirror to check out the backside of him. His back was as wide as an oak table and even his uniform could not conceal his tight, athletic posterior. She caught herself wondering what it would be like to hold onto those buns while his hips pounded into her. “No time for that”, she thought. They key was to get him wanting her, not vice versa. Another ticket was just not an option.


She watched him as he worked in his vehicle. She couldn’t get over just what a stud he was. Over and over again, she checked him out. At times she was sure that he must have noticed, but who could tell what was going on behind those damn glasses. Was he the type who could even be swayed or would this be an exercise in futility as well as legal process? She knew that as he once again made his way out of his cruiser, that she needed to lay on the charm, lest another ticket impede her ability to get around for the foreseeable future. God! He was so delicious in his uniform.


“Well there seems to be a few albums that have gotten you to lay on the ol’ lead foot, Miss”, said Officer Stud Muffin on his return.


She attempted to deflect with humour, saying, “I promise, my feet are in no way made of lead officer. I can show them to you if you want, officer”, she said with double scoops of sexy mirth flashing from her eyes and her sexiest come hither grin.


“Was that even the slightest hint of a grin?” she wondered. Now more than ever she felt the need to go for the touchdown and break him to her will utilizing any means possible. “Officer, I know my previous driving record looks kind of bad, but is there anything that we can do to solve this right here without a ticket?” she asked as her right hand zipped her top open even more, her perky breasts spilling out as much as her sexy sports bra would allow them.


He paused for a moment to consider her request, but then it seemed as though his face began to harden and his movements took on a rigid certainty. Those damn glasses! What was going on inside of that head? “Ma’am, are you trying to influence me in doing my job?” he queried. “Miss, I’m afraid that I am going to ask you to get out of your car.”


Her mouth opened agape with shocked surprise. “Omigod…this is going so wrong”, she thought, “How am I going to get this one turned around in my favour?”


Officer Stud Muffin stepped back away from her door to allow her exit. As she unfolded her body from the cabin, she rose to her full majesty, straightening out her attire in an effort to make her look more presentable. She wondered if her casual attire would only impede her credibility. “This guy has probably had hundreds of women proposition him to get out of tickets”, she thought with panic. “How hard is this one going to throw the book at me?” she wondered.


She tried to look at ease, while clearly being shaken. Even so, standing so close to him, she could detect the whispering scent of his cologne, something that immediately caused something to stir within her. He really was 100%, delicious, Grade A man candy, even if he was about to cause her a full load of grief. Oh god, she was fidgeting, she could feel it.


“Miss, clearly given your comments, I’m going to need to conduct a roadside sobriety test. I’m going to give you a series of instructions and demonstrate some basic manoeuvres to you. After I’ve described these manoeuvres to you, I’m going to need you to quickly perform the described tasks to the best of your abilities. Do you understand these instructions?”


She nodded her compliance. Maybe she could still work her charm. After all…what guy is immune to a fabulous babe with a great ass? She silently plotted her schemes as she awaited his instructions.


“Now before we get started, I’m going to have to do a routine search of you to make sure that there are no concealed weapons on your person”, said Officer Stud Muffin. “Please move to the front of your car and place your hands on the hood, with your feet about shoulder width apart. Do you understand this instruction?”


“Crystal clear, officer”, she replied with a smile, and with that she spun and did her sexiest strut over to her vehicle and placed her hands on the hood, even giving a little wiggle of her buttocks as she positioned her feet a shoulder’s width apart. Maybe he was finally warming up. The thought of the impending search made her giddy with little tingling sensations coursed through her at the thought of the possibilities of Officer Stud Muffin’s hands running over all over her nubile form. Her nipples began to harden as she heard his footsteps approaching her. The thought of him filled her mind with anticipation. There were some forms of police brutality that she might REALLY enjoy, she thought with a grin hidden away from view. She heard him come to a stop a foot or two behind her.


The wait seemed endless. What was he doing back there? What was taking him so long to get started? She made a move to turn around and face him, only to hear a curt, “Face front!” growled by the officer in his husky bedroom voice. Once again, he was a mystery. Was this all some sick game to him? Was he dead serious and getting out the rubber gloves for a humiliating, roadside, body cavity search? Was he a rogue cop? Anxiety and anticipation married to produce unexpected results as she felt her vagina begin to moisten and ache with longing. This was crazy. She was the one who should be trying to control him with her sexuality and make him putty in HER hands. Suddenly she felt enormously vulnerable and exposed, all the while, her arousal continued to grow within her like a wildfire.


After what seemed to an eternity, she felt something begin to trace up the inside of her left calf. It was too hard to be a part of Officer Stud Muffin, even though his body seemed bereft of an oasis that wasn't covered with hardened muscle. It was his nightstick.


As the nightstick moved across the inside of her knee and up with slow inexorable precision across her inner thigh, her mouth parted uninvited and a hushed moan escaped her without warning. The nightstick crawled up her leg – it was torment and then moved further in towards the front of her well-shaped thigh. Chills travelled up her spine like a caravan of gypsies, lighting every nerve ending on their way until every hair on her scalp felt electrified. Her nipples strained vigorously against her sports bra and she could feel her back arch imperceptibly. He was driving her crazy and he hadn’t laid a hand on her. Just short of where the nightstick could only come to a rest against her aching vulva, it stopped and began moving back down her leg. Coming to a rest on the inside of her calf, she heard Officer Stud Muffin say, “I need your legs a little wider apart, Miss”, in his sexy voice. She shuddered and complied, unsure if she would be able to weather his actual touch without screaming.


Once again the delay between his words and his actions was epic. Moments seemed like hours. “What’s keeping him?” she wondered. Her clitoris pulsed with urgency. She could feel the air crackle between them as he closed the gap between them. It was all that she could do to maintain her focus on a point somewhere along horizon in the darkened distance. As he placed his hands flatly and gently on her hips, she valiantly remained as motionless as possible, even as sensations exploded within her. “Omigod! Just get through this without losing your shit!” was the sound of her internal monologue. This was the most, wicked torture – this prime example of masculinity stoking an inferno within her with barely a touch.


Slowly, his hands took shape to form to her body and he began to move them along the sides of her legs. She thought that her legs might begin to quiver as those beautifully virile appendages probed her every supple curve and nuance. Hungry, lustful quivers began to give rebellion to her resolve. In a moment she thought it would be all she could do to not launch herself at him and offer her carnal sacrifice at the altar of his machismo. As his hands completed their investigation of her outer contours, she could knew that her gasp was not rendered with enough subtlety as he moved his hands to probe the inside of her legs. He must know! She felt her cheeks flush at the thought of him turning her arousal into his sport.


Ever upwards, she felt his hands crawl. It was as though her skin were brail and his hands were reading the volumes of how to engage the sensual cavewoman inside of her. She felt lightheaded as his hands approached the gorged was all consuming. A bead of sweat trickled down the canal of her spine. Her face was hot with passion and her mouth was fully open, panting breathlessly for air.


His right hand cupped her and paused. She knew that there was no way to hide the moist patch that had formed around her vagina. She could conceal a gun in those yoga pants with greater success than this betrayal by her sex. His fingers lingered over her clitoris briefly, then passed along the full length of her crotch, meeting in tandem to cup the bottom of her right buttocks as his left hand came to a maddening halt at a similar point on the left side. Her skin was on fire.


“What next?” she wondered. Her entire body was being reduced to jelly. Only half way home and she wondered if the vertigo she was feeling might render her unconscious. The vision of Officer Stud Muffin intoxicated her.


Upwards, ever upwards, his hands began to travel alone her back. As they rose and touched the bottom of the hood on the back of her top, they paused. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to removed your top”, he said with his throaty diction. It was an effort of herculean proportions to stand and unzip her top. Miranda Rights be damned.


She tossed the top onto the hood of her car with defeated cynicism. His touch had crushed her resistance. All she wanted was for him to conquer her further with no hope for surrender. As she again assumed her position, he continued with his examination, feeling across her back to the tops of her shoulders. As her reached forward to scan her arms, his groin made contact with her sumptuous ass. That hardened foreign object that she felt was much more organic this time around and she shuddered with delight as she felt his manhood intrude on her personal space. Her fingers clutched at the lacquered finish of her car hood, her body screamed for release.


His hands, oh those wonderful hands, continued back up around and then darted in underneath her arms. As they came to a groping halt around her breasts, her field of vision began to narrow as she felt his index fingers begin to trace light circles around her hardened nipples, without ever touching skin. There was no more strength to resist, her body reared like a wild mare, orgasmic waves of pleasure washed over her and a throaty moan that howled to the full moon encompassed her.


“Well, no weapons”, he whispered lustily. “I guess we can get started on that sobriety test”…

Last edited by HermanDG; 18-Mar-18 at 14:36.
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  #2  
Old 18-Mar-18, 14:43
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boyandy boyandy is offline
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Default Re: At Any Speed

Shoot, I should have been a cop.
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Old 18-Mar-18, 15:40
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: At Any Speed

Quote:
Originally Posted by boyandy [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
Shoot, I should have been a cop.
Originally, this story was a two part text. It’s only ever been edited to combine the two parts into one...

Basically fun with story time.
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Old 22-Mar-18, 09:30
Stacyann Stacyann is offline
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Default Re: At Any Speed

Very hott!
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