While I was on patrol one day, I was trying to decide which particular violation level was going to be the best hunting for the speeders I loved to catch. Pulling over a 5-10 almost always meant standing there writing a ticket and getting passed by a 10-20 or even a reckless. You had to be patient and let some of the small ones go if you wanted the prize.



The occasional violation here and there such as rolling through a stop sign or changing lanes without signaling, were the equivalent of catching a very small perch on a trout fishing expedition. I didn't mind letting them go, especially since I myself was guilty of those very same sins. That day I decided that catching the speeders that use Hwy. 380 as their personal race track was the order of business. Too many kids had been lost on that road by racing or by people who just figured since there isn't much there, it is safe to ignore the limit. I decided that a high 10-20 after a long drought would do but ultimately, I was looking for a 20-30. Those take time and there is paperwork involved so they have to be worth it.



Working the evening shift was always my favorite. The rush hour was prime time for a traffic assignment and was usually followed by quiet evenings since the real nut jobs didn't come out until after midnight when my shift ended. This day was no different. Rush hour saw 3 10-20 over's, many skipped 5-10 over's and one 20-30 that was very satisfying. The guy was an asshole. He made all the usual loudmouth threats, denied he was even speeding regardless of the radar lock on the only car on the highway and made it very easy to comply with the department's no tolerance policy. He gave me reason to rough him up a little too so the shift was officially perfect in the measurement of a dedicated cop.



At about 11:30, I was basking in the glow of the last stop, savoring the first beer after the end of a long shift in my head when a Silver Taurus shot by headed west at about 85 Mph. In a 60 that counts as a 25-30 and could be a reckless depending on the guy's reactions in the stop. I looked at my watch while gearing up. "Shit.". My shift was over in a half hour and this stop was going to be a "No Tolerance" stop with about two hours of paperwork. I couldn't let it go but I was pissed that this idiot had to come by right at the end of my shift.



The Taurus must not have seen me come out of my spot because he didn't slow at all. I flipped on the lights and jammed the accelerator down. The Hwy. was dark but the road was straight. It took a few minutes to catch up but when I did, I pulled in behind the Taurus and bopped my siren; the universal signal to look behind you and see the cop pulling you over. The Taurus didn't run away but it didn't stop either. His speed slowed to the speed limit but didn't pull over. I was about to call in a "resisting" When the Taurus signaled a right hand turn and began to slow down. I thought he was pulling over but instead he pulled onto a dirt road and kept going slowly off the hwy.



After about a half mile, the Taurus pulled over to the edge of the dirt lane and stopped. I felt a need to be cautious but I did not call it in. If this idiot was even half civil to me I could retain my option to let him go if his excuse was even halfway interesting or inventive.



With my hand on my weapon, I pointed my flashlight toward the driver's window and approached the driver's side door. The driver turned off the engine. I was relieved. That meant he didn't intend to run.



As I approached the driver's side window, it started to come down and I got my first look at the driver. It was not a "He" at all but a 30 something redhead soccer mom with an apologetic look on her face. I let a little tension leave my body as very few police officers have been shot or run over by pretty redheads. I looked in the back seat. It was empty. No passenger in the front. Just the driver who I could now see was wearing a very short skirt and a low cut top that revealed bright white skin and an ample cleavage that immediately caught my attention. The angle of the view I had allowed me to look straight down into her blouse and admire two very round C cups. That was a nice little bonus for my evening. I shined the flashlight into the driver window and all around to make it look like I was looking around the vehicle. I didn't want to get caught gawking those perfect breasts.



"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?"



Before she answered, I noticed some mascara running slightly like she was starting to cry. Great. A crier. I hate that.



She looked up at me though and smiled and sort of half laughed between a choked off sob. I got the impression those tears were not meant for me. Usually the waterworks felt like a ploy but I felt like maybe she had been crying before I stopped her. She tried to answer my question.



"Well, yes and no, I suppose...I guess I probably was breaking several laws but I really wasn't paying attention to anything... until you pulled in behind me."



Maybe the unexpected look down her blouse had put my mind right in the gutter. The way she emphasized the last 5 words of her sentence made my cock twitch involuntarily. Was it my imagination or did she slow that part down a little? As I considered that question, the smell of alcohol drifted out the window and into my face. I sighed. A DUI was another two hours and a DWI would be until sun up. Fuck.



Before I finished calculating the lost hours, she started talking again.



"I am really sorry officer. I was just trying to get home fast. I have a babysitter and it's a school night. I wasn't in the right state of mind at all to drive. I was just on a blind date with a guy I met on Craig's List and-"



I interrupted. "Craig's List? You went on a blind date with a guy from Craig's List? I should write you up for that all by itself miss...?" I realized that in all my ogling of her body I hadn't asked for her license and registration.



"Terrell. Tammy Terrell. I know it was stupid but the guy was so good on paper. He wrote these E-mails that just really got into my head and I couldn't resist. The things he wrote..." she got a dreamy sort of lost look. "Well, he made me need something I haven't had in a long time, if you know what I mean."



I did know what she meant. It had been a long time since I had been on a satisfying date myself. The droughts tend to have a bitter taste. You start to consider anything. I felt for her.



"Yes ma'am, I do and I can relate. I did some time on Craig's List myself. I'm guessing by the adjustments you have made to your make up on the drive home that it didn't end well?"



She looked suddenly into the mirror on her visor and noticed her mascara running.



"No, no it didn't. It wasn't even his picture that he sent me and he was no former Marine, that's for sure!" She said this with some venom, more to herself than to me. Being a former Marine myself, I enjoyed her observation. "Anyway, I was mad and frustrated and I just wanted to get home to...well, real life, I guess."



She fiddled with a tissue and when my eyes followed that motion, they dragged once again over her bosom which was now heaving just slightly with her effort not to cry. At least she wasn't crying.



I felt really bad for her and if it weren't for the smell of alcohol, I probably would have let her go but I take my job very seriously and bad boyfriend experience or not, someone can die when alcohol is involved.



"Ma'am, I am sorry that it didn't work out for you but the law has a no tolerance policy for the speed you were traveling. I am going to have to ask you for your license and registration and proof of insurance."



"Oh...OK. Just a moment. I know I have it here somewhere..."



She looked through her visor pile where most find those papers. As she reached up, her breasts pressed together and jiggled to and fro with the effort. I couldn't help but hope it would take a few more seconds to find the papers. She couldn't find them.



I am not a pervert and I don't seek out to ogle women but these little occurrences had their perks. I admit I enjoy the view at times.



She then leaned over to the passenger side to open the glove box and rifle through it, looking for the proper papers. As she did, the back of her skirt slid down enough that I could see the skin of the top of her buttocks, her two cheeks so soft and white with just a hint of crack showing. I swallowed hard. She was wearing a thong lace panty. Clearly, she had hoped for more than this tonight.



I felt bad for her again. I started to feel bad for myself too as her skirt innocently slid up her leg as she twisted and shuffled through papers. My heart pounded. It was much easier to wrestle a guy to the ground and pummel him for being an idiot than to maintain professional composure with a woman who looked like this.



"Well, here is my license, officer but I can't seem to find my registration."



"Proof of Insurance?" I asked. She sighed. "No. Not that either."



My night just went straight to hell.



"Ma'am, I have to inform you that driving 25 miles over the speed limit is classified in some cases as reckless driving, which is a misdemeanor. Not having your registration on hand to prove ownership of the vehicle is a ticket-able offense all by itself and not having your insurance means I have to impound your vehicle and take you to the station."



"Oh, my God!" her eyes shot open and the tears started to flow freely. She didn't sob though.



The sudden rush of adrenaline my announcements flooded her with must have gone straight to her body because her nipples sprang forth through the sheer top that stood between me and the view that would delight any man.



As she turned to face me more directly, her blouse fell open just a little more, revealing more of the round globes that had suddenly caught my attention. Now with those nipples standing straight and tall and hard as pebbles, I was suddenly at a loss. She was dressed to bring down the craftiest prey tonight. What a shame that all this was headed home in failure.



My eyes lingered a little too long on her erect nipples and my breath caught. I took a deep breath and forcibly removed my eyes from her chest. As my eyes made contact with hers, I saw that she had registered my bad male behavior. Her eyes scolded me.



She composed herself, pulling her blouse up a little. There was nothing she could do about those nipples, though. They seemed to respond to the fabric dragging over them as she attempted to conceal her breasts a little better. They got so hard I could see the goose-bumped flesh around her nipples now too. My cock started to respond.



I sighed. How many times had hookers offered themselves in return for no bust. How many times had a junkie offered to suck my dick if I just let her (or him!) go just this once. Once I even got an offer of a blowjob from an ordinary looking man who didn't want his wife to find out he had been shopping hookers. All those times, I took the high road. Just once I'd like to get that offer from someone real who I could be attracted to the way I was to this woman and throw my rules to the wind. I had all the power here, I had all the control. Beautiful women like these should always have the option to fuck their way out of an arrest. It would make the low pay a cop suffers much more tolerable.



Her words penetrated my internal tirade and I realized I had let my eyes linger on her breasts again and was once again busted.



"No, no I just made a mistake here. I have insurance and I never speed, I swear! I had my mind on...well, other things." Something crossed her mind as she said "Other things". I saw her eyes widen in some sort of realization, like that she had left the oven on or something.



I shook myself out of my nipple trance and resumed. "That's not all, ma'am. I also detect the smell of alcohol. I am going to have to ask you to step out of the car."



She seemed genuinely shocked.



"Alcohol? NO! I wasn't drinking, that was the stupid Craig's List guy! We sat in my car and he wouldn't leave! I tried to make him get out but he spilled his beer in my car!"



My bullshit meter was not beeping. I had a sense for when people really did only have two beers and when there really was an innocent spill, or when that pot was really "my cousin Eddy's".



Still, I had no choices. "I get that a lot. Please step out of the car, Ma'am."



She complied immediately and stepped out of the car. As she did, her skirt hiked up her leg even farther and I reflexively shined my flashlight on her legs so I could catch that glimpse. Her eyes followed the flashlight and she pulled the skirt down as she stood up. Her nipples were still at full attention and her very short skirt revealed legs that just begged to be wrapped around something.



I closed the driver's door. The thought of frisking this woman simultaneously shot my blood pressure through the roof with arousal (I always considered this a perk of my job) and pissed me off because it always left me worked up with nowhere to go. I couldn't even tell the woman "Thank you" for fear of being "inappropriate".



"Put your hands on the hood please Ma'am." I would usually wait to search a female subject but my night was already ticking away and I couldn't afford to wait another 20 minutes while the department freed up a female officer from another sector.



"What?" She blinked. The breeze blew her blouse open for me. I sighed.



"Your hands, please, put them on the hood of the car."



"Why? I mean...I am not a criminal? Why?"



"It's standard procedure, Ma'am. For my safety and yours I need to pat you down for weapons and check you for drugs before we proceed."



"Proceed?" she asked as she turned away from me to put her hands on the hood.



"Yes, Ma'am. You are under arrest. It's going to be a long night. Now please spread your legs and bend over the hood."



As I heard the words come out of my mouth I realized how they sounded. I didn't mean them that way, but there they were anyway. I signed to myself again. This night kept getting longer. If only it were that easy.



She turned to face me again. "Wait. Shouldn't there be another officer here if you are going to search me? I watch TV."



I sighed. "Yes, Ma'am, there should but there isn't another human being for 5 miles, let alone a cop or a female cop specifically. If you want to wait an additional half hour it will take you that much longer to get to your kids and for me to get home. We can do that if you like. Or, you can let me search you and we can get this done as quickly as possible."



I waited as she considered my statement. "You're really going to arrest me? As in handcuffs and the whole deal?"



"Well, the handcuffs may not be necessary if you promise not to hurt me." My attempt to lighten things didn't register on her.



She didn't seem dangerous. She was obviously having a bad day and was certainly not the idiot that I dreamed of slapping cuffs on and ruining his whole night. When mine was ruined like this, I took a certain amount of pleasure in knowing that I had put a bad end on what was probably a good night for the arrestee.



She just stood there in disbelief. She seemed once again to be contemplating my response. Then, as if she had just gotten the joke, she laughed a small little laugh and exhaled.



"I won't hurt you, Officer...?"



"Masters. Nick Masters."



"Well, officer Masters, this was certainly not what I had planned for my evening." Her voice was resigned, friendly even. She wasn't going to put up a fight like most soccer Moms do when they realize that their cute little flirtations were getting nowhere, not that she was flirting.



"I can see that." I responded, giving an appraising look to her attire. "For what it's worth, if a woman like you responded to one of my ads on CraigsList, and you showed up dressed to kill like that, I think things may have turned out a little differently."



"Oh, yes." She laughed, more lightly this time. She looked me up and down, just as I had been doing to her. The difference was, I didn't mind. I took pride in keeping in shape, maintaining my fitness. The bad guys always seem to assume you can't run them down as fast as they can run away. The look of surprise on their face when a 50 year old white guy lands on top of them is priceless.



"Yes, I was..um..." She lingered a little too long on my crotch. I hoped like hell that the stirrings I felt were not showing up there yet.



"Oh, hell it's just been a long time and I thought I was finally going to..." She sighed. Her eyes locked on mine. There was indecision on her face. I knew that look. It was the look that usually signaled that the perp was going to do something stupid like try to run. She was no drug addict but that look was unmistakable. "I was just looking forward to...well not with that guy anyway." She looked like she was about to say something to me.



Apparently she changed her mind. She started to turn and place her hands on the hood of the car. Halfway around she stopped and faced me again. She opened her mouth and raised her hand as if to ask a question but abruptly stopped and turned around again. I knew what she had in mind to ask but she couldn't do it. She was a Mom, not a hooker. She had a genuine need to feel a man, not just a need to get out of a bad situation. She didn't want to have to ask. That was too much for her. Years of police work allowed me to read people better than they even read themselves sometimes. Part of me wished she had asked.



"OK, Officer Masters, I have placed my hands on the hood of the car and I have promised not to hurt you. Please proceed."



As she bent over the hood of her car, the headlights from my car shone through her now hanging blouse and showed me the outline of her breasts cupped neatly in her bra. The sight sent a shiver down my spine.



"Thank You, Mrs. Terrell, I will indeed proceed." I let the smile on my face be heard in my voice. "However I must point out that the command was to put your hands on the hood of the car 'and spread your legs'. Apparently you forgot that part."



"Oh, I didn't forget to spread them Officer Masters, I thought we covered this. I just didn't get a chance to." She stopped suddenly like people do when they let slip a comment that wasn't meant for external consumption.



One good Fruedian Slip deserves another, I suppose.



She sighed, realizing she had used her outside voice and her head dropped a little, resigning herself to what this night had become.



"And it's 'Ms.' Terrell."



For a moment I thought I saw another question coming as her eyes opened again. But it didn't come.



She pushed the small of her back down and spread her legs apart, which had the effect of pushing her ass up a little bit. I never knew if women did this on purpose or if they even knew what that sight does to a man. I could feel my heartbeat in my cock now. I desperately wished I could just let her go so I could go home and take care of this bulge that was rising rapidly in my pants.



It wasn't until I finished that thought that my mind wrapped itself around what she said. I realized that she wasn't referring to what I said but to her evening in general. I couldn't decide if I should laugh or not. She "Didn't get a chance to spread her legs?"



"I appreciate the second chance." She laughed sarcastically and with a dreamy air that took me off guard. She looked back at me and spread her legs a little further.



My breath caught in my throat. The sight of this beautiful woman spread-eagled over her car and her skirt slowly sliding up her thigh as a result of the spread-legged position made my cock jump again. Her breasts now strained against her blouse as they hung in her bent over position, over the hood. There are few things in this world more appealing and irresistible than a woman bent over with her legs spread, waiting...

