I didn’t see the cruiser parked amidst the weeds in the median until we were practically on top of it. Given the circumstances, though, who could blame me? My wife, Lacey, and I had enjoyed a wonderful night out with another couple, friends of ours, getting dinner at a new Thai place in Springfield and then enjoying some live music at a bar down the street. I’d had a couple of drinks at the bar, but Lacey and her girlfriend had several, chatting over the insistent bass of the band and catching up on work gossip. She was feeling horny as soon as we’d got in the car for the thirty-minute drive home, her hand finding my crotch before I even buckled my seatbelt.
As soon as I made the highway outside the city, my fingers started searching for her sex as well. I trailed my fingers from her knee up to her hip and then back down, slipping my hand up under the white peasant skirt she’d chosen for the evening, squeezing her thick thigh. I kept moving upward in a series of squeezes until I found a pair of lacy panties already damp with want. She let out a low satisfied groan as I started to stroke her through the thin fabric.
“Oh, I can’t wait to get you home, honey,” she said softly, almost too soft to hear. Lacey usually isn’t very vocal, but the liquor could bring it out in her sometimes.
“We don’t have to wait,” I said, pulling her skirt up further and slipping my fingers into her panties to find her very wet pussy. I slipped my middle finger between her lips, rubbing along the hood of her clit and down into her wet folds. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, one hand steadying her on the armrest of the passenger door and the other squeezing my hard cock through my jeans.
“God, baby, you are so wet,” I murmured. She spread her legs apart to give me better access as I explored her. I glanced from the dark, mostly empty country highway in front of me to the beautiful sight of my wife beside me, skirt pushed up about her waist, legs bare, my fingers busy beneath her panties. Her mouth was parted very slightly, the pink promise of her tongue glistening wetly in her mouth. I glanced back and forth as I fingered her, gradually looking longer at my gorgeous wife than the road.
“See anyone you liked tonight?” I asked after a while. We’d been incorporating talk of a threesome into our sex life for a couple of years, and I always liked to tease her and push the envelope a bit when she’d had a few and her inhibitions were down. She was generally a bit reserved, even in private, but there was a compelling, playful side that came out after a drink or two.
She smiled a naughty, private smile, big, flashing her perfect teeth. “Maybe,” she said with a little giggle.
“Really? Who? The bartender?” I asked as I continued to probe her, dipping a finger into her hot entrance before she could reply. The bartender had been a musclebound young guy who probably went to the local college.
“No, ew,” she said with a laugh. “That black guy at the next table over…”
“The drummer in the opening act?” I asked, surprised, trying to picture him: a fit guy with a shaved head and an intense look.
Lacey nodded a bit, sighing.
“Were you thinking about his fingers doing this?” I asked, the image of his dark hand spreading my wife’s sopping pink pussy open searing into my brain. I loved thinking about her with other men, as if she was too horny for me to handle alone.
Lacey bit her lip and nodded just a bit. “Yes,” she whispered, again giving that big smile, a mixture of euphoria and embarrassment.
I gave her a long look, savoring the sight of my hot wife splayed across the seat. Which is why I missed the cop until the last second.
I immediately tapped my brake to kill the cruise control and checked my speed to see that I was five over; not too bad, but bad nonetheless. Sure enough, he rolled right up and out of the ditch as I passed, immediately slipping behind me and turning on his lights. The only other car in the immediate vicinity, a little coupe that had been hanging behind us a bit, passed by us as I pulled over to the shoulder, the officer right behind me.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” Lacey was saying, frantically pulling her skirt down and trying to smooth it out. “Were you speeding?”
“Yeah, a bit,” I admitted ruefully. I’d just been so eager to get her home. I was chewing a piece of gum, as I always did on nighttime drives, but I knew it was futile. The whole car smelled like booze and smoke… and sex.
Before I could really gather my thoughts or figure out a strategy, the officer was beside my window and I was rolling it down to greet him. He was short, dark-haired, and serious. He held a flashlight in one hand.
“License and registration, please,” he intoned monotonously, but I could see his eyes scanning the interior of the car along with his flashlight, looking for anything dangerous or suspicious. I could see a sudden expression flicker cross his features that told me he’d either smelled the booze on us or the smell of my wife’s wet sex. Or both.
Lacey, for her part, was apparently as caught off guard as I was, because although she’d fixed her skirt to hide her drenched panties, she didn’t seem to notice that she was practically spilling out of her top, with acres of pale cleavage heaving with her anxiety.
“Honey?” I asked her. “Could you get the paperwork from the glove box?”
She looked startled for a second, but then started fumbling with the glove box and looking for the documents. I took the opportunity to strike up a rapport.
“Can I ask why you pulled me over?”
“You were speeding, sir. It’s sixty-five through here.”
“Ah. My mistake. Must have been distracted.”
It was a comment I’d made before when being pulled over that seemed neutral and innocuous enough, but when I said it this time, I noticed his eyes flicker to Lacey’s breasts, hanging nearly out the neck of her dress, and to her thigh where her dress, despite her earlier efforts, had ridden back up. Something about that brief glance planted the seed of an idea in my mind.
Lacey was still looking through the envelope in my glove box where I keep my papers, and this time the officer broke the silence. “Sir, have you been drinking this evening?”
“I had a glass of whiskey with dinner, yes, but it was some time ago.” That wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it did fail to mention a couple more drinks I’d had after.
“Will you consent to a breathalyzer?”
Now, I don’t know. Maybe it was desperation—I had picked up a DUI when I was a kid, and didn’t want to risk another one—or maybe it was just my arousal from my wife teasing me and talking dirty, but the idea bloomed in my mind and the words were out of my lips before I could stop to consider how cliché the situation was or how much worse I could make things for myself. The cop might not go for it. Worse, Lacey might not go for it. But, as I said, I was speaking before those thoughts settled into my buzzed brain.
“Sure. Why don’t you go around to the passenger side so my wife can give you my registration?”
He hesitated, but then started to move around the back of the car, not questioning my awful logic. It was my first inkling that this could really happen. Now for Lacey…
She looked at me quizzically, and I said the only thing I could think to say while I rolled her window down, before the officer came up to us. “You look hot. Flirt our way out of here.”
She blushed immediately, and then turned to address the officer, clearly flustered. The action of shifting in her seat had the fortunate consequence of drawing her dress up further and jiggling that generous cleavage right beneath his nose. This was her chance:
“Um, here,” Lacey said, handing him the papers, and I sighed.
“Be right back. Please remain where you are,” the officer said, returning to his cruiser.
Lacey turned around furiously and hissed at me: “FLIRT our way out!?”
“He wants you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“He kept eyeing you while we were talking. Do you think he’s cute?”
She looked at me incredulously. “I don’t know!”
“What does that mean? Of course you know!”
“I guess so.”
“Lacey, I can’t afford another DUI. I could lose my job.”
She didn’t reply, just glared at me, her face aglow with the flush of the wine and my suggestion. She continued to glare at me until the officer returned with our paperwork. He again approached the passenger side, handing the tattered documents back to my wife. “Everything in order here. Can I have you step out of the vehicle, sir?”
I didn’t say anything, and after a brief hesitation Lacey reached out and slowly, gently placed her hand on the officer’s wrist. “Is that really necessary?” she asked with surprising confidence.
The cop stared at my wife for a minute, then looked up and down the dark, lonely stretch of highway briefly before returning his gaze to her, where again I could tell he couldn’t stop looking at her impressive chest. “I don’t think you ought to grab my wrist, miss,” he finally said.
“Oh,” she said, and let it drop. To his thigh.
I thought he might panic, figure she was reaching for his sidearm, especially in the current political climate, but this was Nebraska, the middle of nowhere, and he didn’t seem particularly concerned. Lacey ran her hand up and down his thigh, and then she sealed the deal, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes and biting her lip. It was such a shameless display, I didn’t even know she was capable of it.
He looked at me next, and what could I do? I shrugged and leaned back against the door, as if to watch her work.
The officer neither encouraged her nor discouraged her, but once he didn’t stop her Lacey slowly moved her hand over to his crotch, tracing the zipper with a single finger. She’d lowered her gaze—she later told me she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye, her heart was pounding so hard—and watched her finger move up and down the front seam of his pants, quickly stirring him to life. After a few seconds of this, he set the clipboard he’d carried with the blank ticket on it on the roof of my car and then unbuckled his tactical belt, letting it join the clipboard.
With her newfound access, my wife reached for his belt buckle and started to tug it open. With her back to me and her head in the way, I didn’t have a very good view, but I could see in the side mirror as she fumbled open the fly and yanked down the zipper to reveal his growing bulge. She ran her hand over it, and then turned back over her shoulder to look at me with raised eyebrows, as if to ask, “are you sure you want me to do this?” I almost laughed. I wasn’t sure, but what choice did I really have now?
I just smiled reassuringly at her, and she turned back to the cop, who had hardly moved since removing his gun belt. He was sort of leaning on the roof of the car as she dug her fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down. His semi-hard cock sprang free, and I could see in the mirror as my wife’s mouth fell open, almost involuntarily, as she took in the sight. He rapidly hardened, exposed to the warm night, the head bobbing just inches from my wife’s inviting lips. He was circumcised, and a bit short, but thick, with well-trimmed black curls.
My wife teasingly ran a finger up the side to the tip, and then back down the underside, trailing down the sensitive shaft all the way to his balls. As she brought the finger back up, a second joined it, and then a third and a fourth and then suddenly her whole hand was wrapped around his shaft, giving it a firm squeeze. He stiffened to what looked to be a painful hardness as she slowly began to stroke him.
After only a few brief strokes, Lacey shifted up onto her knees. The officer, who had been standing as close to the car as possible as if to shield any wayward eyes (though not a car had passed since we’d been pulled over) now seemed to have lost all self-control, and took a step back to accommodate Lacey as she leaned out the window. This required her to support herself with her hands on the door, the upper part of her torso now hanging out the window, and so it was just her mouth left for the officer to take advantage of, and he wasted no time doing so. He nudged his throbbing cock into her cheek, and she chased it with her tongue, finding the sensitive underside and sucking the swollen head into her warm, wet, inviting mouth.
Lacey is a truly adept cocksucker, and she wasted no time in putting those skills to work, her cheeks hollowing as she drew him deep into her mouth. He buried his hands in her hair, wrapping her tangles around his knuckles as he withdrew from her mouth only to thrust into her hungry lips again. He tilted his head back in ecstasy as they began to find a rhythm together. I knew from experience that her tongue was probably caressing the bottom ridge of his shaft with each stroke, swirling around the head on the out strokes.
For my part, I was mostly floored by the suddenness with which the situation had escalated. I knew my wife was no saint before we got together, that she’d sucked other men’s cocks. I’d asked her about it enough, and we’d fantasized together about sharing her with other men enough, but to actually witness a thick dick sliding in and out of her wet lips was intoxicating. I was so stunned that it took me awhile to realize that my wife’s gorgeous ass was now wiggling directly in my face as she took the cop in her mouth.
Once I realized my error, however, I wasted no time in hiking her skirt up onto her back to expose sheer panties with a visibly wet crotch. I could smell the heady aroma of her sex and quickly pulled down her panties to expose her gushing pussy. I ran my hands up her thighs and kneaded her bare ass, savoring the smoothness of her skin. As I spread the swollen outer lips of her flushed pussy with my thumbs to expose the glistening pink flesh within, I could hear her moan around the cock in her mouth.
I traced my thumb up and down her wet lips for a minute before lowering my head to taste her, laying my tongue flat along her outer folds and drawing it up from just below her clit to the very bottom. I slowly wiggled my tongue into her, deeper and deeper, until I was up to my chin in her deliciousness, my nose pressed against her ass. I slowly withdrew and lowered my tongue to flick teasingly at her clit a couple of times before moving in with my lips, sucking her clit gently into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it in circles.
Meanwhile, though I could no longer really see it, the officer had begun to really fuck my wife’s face. Though she’d largely been in control at first, the power of his desire for her, the rush of the taboo, the thrill of being caught, all had seemed to overwhelm him, and now he was aggressive with her. He had her wavy locks wrapped around one fist and was forcefully guiding her up and down the length of his cock in even strokes, pulling her down until her nose was buried against his crotch and the head of his cock started to creep into her throat, and then pulling her back and letting her up for air. With his other hand, he had a handful of Lacey’s breast through her shirt. He alternated between squeezing and teasing the hard button of her nipple sticking through the sheer fabrics that covered it.
I tried to watch over the swell of her creamy hip as I continued to eat her out but couldn’t, so I pulled back and replaced my tongue with my thumb, rubbing her clit in tight little circles, occasionally dipping it into her cunt. She was so wet, as wet as I’d ever felt her. I replaced my thumb with a couple of fingers, and then a third, twisting them inside her while I watched her suck another man’s cock. Every so often he would pull the shaft from her mouth entirely and she’d wait there, eager, tongue out, saliva dripping from its tip, until he placed his dick back on it, and she drew him back between her lips. I could see her looking up at him, knowing it had been a long time since she had looked up at a man who wasn’t me.
After a bit longer, I decided Lacey deserved to reap the rewards of her attentions on the cop—and I was getting jealous and wanted her mouth to myself. I tapped her hip and gently pulled her back into the car. As she turned to me, I leaned back in my seat and quickly undid my belt and fly, fishing my own pulsing cock out of my pants. Lacey got the idea and knelt over the center console with a mischievous, lusty smile, crawling over to my lap.
“Are you going to let him fuck me?” She whispered.
“Do you want him to?” I asked softly, cupping her chin in my hand.
She nodded as she wrapped her hand around my hardness just as she had with the officer, and I gazed deeply into her hungry eyes, becoming lost until the passenger door opened with a click. The dome light briefly came on, but I quickly reached up to snap it off as Lacey lowered her wet mouth to my dick. The officer stepped up onto the passenger side running board, ready to take advantage of Lacey’s curvy ass suddenly wiggling up at him.
He wasted no time lining his cock up with her dripping pussy. After my earlier attention, he sank in easily, quickly burying himself in her as deep as possible. She moaned around my shaft as he did, pulling back a bit so that just my head was in her mouth and flicking her tongue across the top. As the officer pulled out and drove back into her, she slowly sank me into her mouth simultaneously.
We quickly developed a functional rhythm. His hands restlessly roamed her hips, outer thighs, and ass, squeezing and gripping fiercely with his need for her. Eventually he settled them with his left hand full of cheek and his right on her tailbone, thumb pressed against her clenched asshole, glistening with her own juices, rubbing it in little circles. I know she loves having her ass teased, and quickly the sensation of a stranger fucking her cunt and teasing her butt overwhelmed her. Her sucking slowed and she popped me out of her mouth, face twisted in ecstasy. Somehow, despite the cramped quarters and uncomfortable positions, she managed to snake a hand beneath herself to rub her clit with her right hand, leaving her left wrapped around my cock. She wasn’t even stroking, her eyes closed, just squeezing me and resting the swollen head of my cock against her cheek, where it was leaving wet spots of her own saliva and my precum.
“Ohmigod. Ohmidgod. Ohmigod,” she murmured, almost too soft to hear. “He’s fucking me, he’s fucking me.”
I grinned, watching her get carried away. It sometimes takes her awhile to cum when she drinks, but I could see the flush advancing up her chest and cheeks that told me she was close. So it was fortunate that suddenly the cop spoke for the first time since the whole thing began.
“I’m going to cum,” he growled, and the obvious question hung unspoken in the air for moment before Lacey couldn’t help herself.
“Do it. Cum in me,” she commanded, furiously rubbing her pussy and chasing her own orgasm, her other hand locked around my cock and making short, violent strokes.
After just a few more thrusts, he violently dug his strong hands into Lacey’s hips and started letting out a low moan, and I knew he was shooting my wife’s clenching pussy full of cum. The feeling of his cum filling her up sent her over the edge, and Lacey suddenly stopped rubbing and groaned loudly. The sight of her orgasming on another man’s cock sent me over the edge, and my own climax ripped through me. I shot cum over Lacey’s cheek and onto the steering wheel, subsequent blasts spurting onto her nose, cheek, and lips where she had my cock pressed against her face.
The three of us stayed that way for a few seconds that felt like forever before the officer slipped himself out of her. Lacey made a contented sound deep in her throat as he did so. I heard the clipboard and belt sliding off the top of the car, and a muffled, hoarse whisper: “You folks have a nice night.” By the time I turned to look at the cop, he was gone from the window, striding back to his car.
Lacey collected herself for another moment, and then wiped her face on my shirt and pushed herself back into her own seat and pulled her door closed. We sat there in the dark, catching our breaths while we listened to the door of the cruiser close behind us. He wasted no time in pulling out from behind us and driving off down the highway. We watched his taillights shrink for a moment, and then I looked over at my wife.
She was leaning back against the seat and door on her shoulder, her hand in her tangled curls, sweat beaded on her brow, my cum still shining on her cheek in places. Her shirt was barely on at all. Most interestingly, her other hand was between her legs beneath her skirt. I watched for a moment and then reached over and hiked her skirt up a bit to reveal her fingers languidly running through her slit. I could see his cum glistening stickily on her fingers as she scooped it up and rubbed it into her clit. I felt my cock twitch back to life.
“Oh, baby,” I murmured.
Lacey smiled and looked at me with lidded eyes. “I can’t believe that just happened. I can’t believe I did that.”
“I can,” I teased, reaching over to squeeze her thigh as I watched her play with her pussy a bit, revving herself back up. I knew my wife was never done at one.
“Lean your seat back,” I suggested, tugging my pants and boxers off.
Lacey grinned and reached for the lever. “Baby! Again already?”
“That was so fucking hot,” I said, clambering over the console to join her in the passenger seat.
“You going to come fuck this messy pussy?” My wife said in a sultry growl, and I was immediately ready to be in her. She spread her sticky thighs and I could see the cum running down out of her sopping sex. I wasted no time sinking into her, and quickly began pistoning in and out of her, my lust overcoming my weariness and the recency of my orgasm. I finally pulled her shirt entirely down, stretching out the neck and ripping it slightly as I freed those massive breasts to roll and heave freely with my thrusts. Lacey was panting madly, frantically flicking her clit as she swiftly closed in on another orgasm.
“Fuck, I’m coming again!” She cried as her thighs clamped down around me. I steadily thrusted through that orgasm and she hardly slowed, chasing a third.
“Did that turn you on, taking that cock?” I asked softly as I adjusted my pace to slow, deep, halting thrusts, savoring being entirely within her before drawing myself out almost entirely, and then re-entering as deep as I could.
“Mmmm. That was so naughty. I can’t believe it worked.”
Looking at her beautiful tits jiggling, her head rocked back in ecstasy, her smiling lips swollen and bruised from sucking cock, the soft glow of the moon and stars on her pale skin, I certainly could believe it worked, and I suddenly felt my orgasm there.
“Oh shit, baby, I’m going to cum again,” I said, speeding up as it overtook me.
“Yes, yes, fill me again,” Lacey panted, and then I did, and she was there a third time, mouth open and brow furrowed in the throes of pleasure.
I lay atop her for a long time, the two of us completely overwhelmed and exhausted, until suddenly we heard the distinctive whoop of a siren and blue and red lights filled the interior of the car. I looked up to see a police truck parked behind us, and both doors to the vehicle opening simultaneously…
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/65g7q4/an_offer_for_an_officer_mfm