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Officer Judy 9


I had just finished putting on my officially approved police department lipstick when the red Porsche convertible zoomed by me and headed out U.S. 40 at about thirty miles over the speed limit. This time, damn it, she wasn't going to let her get away with it. I dropped both lipstick and compact to the front seat of my overpowered Ford police car and I tramped down the accelerator. She zoomed through the red traffic signal, by-passed the exit ramp to I-70, and kept speeding up the steep road. Near the top of the hill, she slowed and steered her Porsche into a driveway. The Porsche slid to a halt in her cinders in front of her pillared house, but before she could get her things together, I was out of the Ford and standing next to her. "Why do speeders always drive a red cars?" I said. "Oh. You're officer Judy aren't you?" "That supposed to mean something?" I said. "Bad ass bitch is what it means," she said, grinning at me. She was an attractive redhead, and I could tell by the line of freckles across her nose that the hair color was real. "Is that kind of comment supposed to endear you to me?" I said. She rocked her head, smiled, and pulled up on the hem of her black skirt, showing most of her thigh. "That might work with the male cops, maybe even with one or two of the females, but you got me figured wrong," I said, as I began to write up the ticket. "I have been told that you are the hottest woman in this whole part of the state," she said. "That so?" I said, and I kept writing. I had reached the point of no return on the ticket. Once I put down the tag number and checked the boxes for exceeding the posted by ten and going through a stop signal, there was no going back. It was not that I would ever tear up the ticket, but she was being quite flattering. "Would you like to come into the house for a drink?" "I don't drink on duty." "Water then. It can't be all that cool in that car, even with the air." She was flashing her eyes at me. A month earlier she would have scared the hell out of me. After what I had been through, it now totally intrigued me. "I guess I could use a cold glass of water." "Good." She jumped from behind the wheel, slammed the door, and hurried into the house, her ass swinging from side to side. She had good legs. I had to admit that, but good legs on a woman was not my style. Not really. Or was I just telling myself that? She did have a nice body -- nice tits, a narrow waist, and gently curving hips. And she wore her short dress well, knowing just how to show off her legs. I liked that in a woman. It was something I could learn to do a better job of. When I stepped into the entryway of her two-story house, I was shocked at the statues. Maybe Michaelangelo's David wouldn't have shocked me, but this a marble statue six feet tall with a fully erect cock, and the cock was something else. As a matter of fact, I had the feeling I had seen one like it someplace before. "What the hell kind of place is this?" "Just my humble abode." "Humble it's not," I said, and I saw another statue similar to it, within the curve up the upgoing stairway. "I don't mind if you write me that ticket." She reached down for the hem of her dress and peeled it over her head. As I suspected, she wore no underwear, no stockings, no nothing, and she stepped over to the second statue, which bore a resemblance to Elvis Prestly, but without the pompadour. She leaned against the statue, stroked its slick hip, and brought her hand around the marble cock, fingering it suggestively. Her pussy, wet and throbbing, blossomed out, and for a moment I thought she was going to do a little jump and mount the marble cock. Instead, she just played with it and looked at me. "I really don't mind if you give me the ticket," she said again, and she went to her knees in front of the statue. She put her mouth all the way over the cock, wetting it. Then she brought her hand over it and moved it up and down as if she were jerking off the Elvis replica. At the same time, she spread her own pussy lips with the finger of her other hand. "I love to have my pussy eaten," she said, "but I don't think that's your karma." "No. It's not," I said. Then for some strange reason I added, "I love to have my pussy eaten too." "I thought you'd never ask," she said, and still on her knees, she turned away from the statue and beckoned me toward her. When I didn't move, she crawled toward me with the grace of a cat, looking up at me all the way. Then she stopped and looked straight up into my eyes, with a kind of evil. She unbuckled my service belt and eased it to the floor. Then she rose and began to unbutton my tunic. "Nice tits," she said, brushing her fingers over the front of my shirt. "Thanks," I said in a daze. Slowly she unzipped my fly. Then she gently tugged the trousers of my uniform and my thong bikini underwear with the same motion. I found myself peeling out of my shirt, unhooking my bra, and letting it fall to the floor. "I just love cops," she whispered. "All kinds of cops." My mouth was watering as she looked straight up my body at me, grinning and flashing those green eyes. She removed my shoes and socks. Then her thumbs slid between my thighs, and eased all the way to the wetness of my pussy. She peeled back on my pussy lips that needed no peeling and brought the tip of her tongue to my clit. It was as if she had pressed a button. Pleasure rippled through my pussy to my ass and up my spine, numbing my brain. "Oh!" "Oh, yes, oh," she said, and she began to lick gently, as if she were a cat. "Oh, oh, oh," I moaned, and I thought of that old song, and the song was right. It was magic. There was noting earthly about the pleasure, noting normal or usual. It was fantastic and rich and full. My knees were weak, but I had no sensation of falling. Instead, I felt as if I were floating on a cloud, as pleasure saturated every square inch of my body. Then I heard the full, rich and familiar voice of a man. "Sweetheart?" he said, standing naked at the top of the curved stairway. I looked and realized that he must have been the model for the statue. He was absolutely gorgeous. The redhead pulled her lips from my pussy and looked up at him. "Yes, dear," she said. "I brought you Officer Judy." THE END

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