WARNING
THIS IS GRAPHIC MATERIAL MEANT FOR AGES 18 AND ABOVE. CONTAINS FETISHES: STRIP SEARCH, BLACKMAIL, INCEST, NON-CON, FORCED TO STRIP, FORCED EXHIBITIONISM, HUMILIATION, EMBARRASSMENT, ABUSE OF AUTHORITY. ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+
ISO Writer and/or 3dcg Artist to hire on retainer. Must, at the very least, enjoy my work below. (PM me here if interested).
**Ch.1**
***Bill***
There isn’t much to my life except the plans. That’s what we call them and this isn’t our first one. My partner and I have been doing this for years. Most often we only taken advantage of the girls for a few weeks. No point in risking our day jobs when we can just find a new lady to pull over.
Mothers are our favorite. They have a lot to lose. We like to find the ones who are active in their community; social programs, girl scouts, and the like. Research is half of the game. We call it a “plan” for a reason. It’s incredible what these woman are willing to do when you threaten to upset their perfect little world. Hell — we usually don’t have to even find anything on them. Sometimes just the gossip that they went to the police station — even if it was only for questioning — is enough.
Melissa was an obvious choice. Joe and I have been casing her for the past week. She taught 11th and 12th grade History at Pohton High School. She has one son, Parker. Every weekday morning, her husband drops him off at school before heading to work. At home, she is one of the host moms for the local girl scouts chapter — which her daughter, when home from college, helps run.
It was a balmy Tuesday morning when we set our plan into motion. We were on patrol duty that day and made sure to include the route along Old Hills Rd, adjacent to the high school.
***Parker***
I convinced my mom to let Carl sleep over last night under the pretense that we had a project due this Friday and needed all the time we could get to make it perfect. That always worked with her. Just mention something was important to you about school and you could get away with murder. Well, maybe not murder. Anyway — we stayed up till 2am just goofing around on my computer, browsing xvideos and such.
Carl and I have known each other since 1st grade and so it goes without saying that there isn’t much we hide from one another. Just last month we both turned 18 and took the opportunity to score some legal cigs. We thought we’d smoke them, then we thought we’d sell them, and then we just ended up throwing them out. Hey, what can I say, we’re not exactly known for bravado.
Anyway — what was I saying? Right, we don’t hide much from one another. Once I saw Carl eye Madeline, that’s my sister, when she came downstairs to fix herself a sandwich.
She was wearing one of those push-up bras underneath a stretched-thin tank top such that you could see the blue lace peeking out. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her skin had a soft tan from the summer’s sun. The next day I stole the same bra out from her laundry and showed it to Carl. We jacked off — not near each other like a pair of queers — but privately with her bra in our hands. That’s the kind of relationship Carl and I have — real best buds.
Back to the present: it was Tuesday morning now and we woke up to the sounds of mom’s voice coming muffled through my bedroom walls. It sounded like she was talking on the phone — I caught the last sentence, “He’s not going to be happy about that. Okay. Love you — have a safe flight.”
You can gather what was going on from that. Dad had a work trip again. Closing my eyes, I drifted back to…
“Parker, Carl, get up! We’re running late!”
Carl mumbled to me, “What was that?”
“Mom,” I mumbled back between the pillows.
“Shouldn’t your mom be at school by now?”
A loud voice flung us out of bed: “Get up you two!”
“Coming,” I shouted back.
As we worked our way downstairs, I found mom waiting for us in a huff at the front door. My eyes, still crusted from sleep, took note of what could only be described as the most stereotypical work attire. She had on a black conservative pencil skirt that ended just above the knees. Her top was a button up blouse, white, mostly opaque though if you knew what to look for you could see the outline of her black bra.
“Where’s dad?” I asked.
“Work emergency, he’s boarding the plane right now.”
Carl and I looked at each other with obvious disappointment in our eyes. Mom must have noticed.
“No one is going to know I drove you to school. We’ll take your dad’s car and I won’t park in the teacher’s lot. It’ll be fine. I already put both your backpacks in the car. Now let’s go.”
Grumbling, we dragged ourselves into the car.
By our drab Toyota’s clock, it was almost 7:30am. The bell for homeroom doesn’t ring till 8:25 but my mother’s a teacher (if you hadn’t already guessed), Mrs. Morrison they call her, and insists on getting to school early. We could take the bus, but fuck that.
I tried to get some more shut eye during the car ride, but mom insisted on making boring conversation. You know, “how is your chemistry project going, “etc. Carl and I kept our answers to one word sentences — not as if that irritated her. She always has this unfettered cheerful demeanor, like the world is perfectly ripe for her picking.
As the conversation lulled on, I noticed Carl stealing glances at mom’s cleavage. Really there wasn’t any cleavage to see, with her top all buttoned up. Though, you know, if you looked just right you could make out a nice view between the buttons of her blouse, revealing a bit of black lace. I know it’s my mom and it’s not like I like her in that way or anything. Tits are tits, right? And forgive me if I can’t help myself when the opportunity rises to steal a glance or two.
Such moments are rare though. She must have felt our stares as she shifted her weight and the view was gone. Such is life, no?
Speaking of mom — she’s actually not bad looking. Carl’s more into the MILF thing than I am but even I have to admit that she has a certain attractiveness about her. Though she is 41, age really hasn’t caught up to her yet. She’s about 5’4″, maybe 5’6” with her conservative teacher’s heels on. From the bras that Carl and I have stolen, we know her breasts rest comfortably at 36D. And she has that womanly way of walking, you know with their back arched a bit, which really adds to her allure.
Honestly though, I think it’s her face which men find so sexy. Her skin is that timeless pale white, like the Irish but without the freckles. Her cheekbones are well pronounced, but not sharp or angled. Her lips are a light pink and hold this half-smile half-frown as if she’s trying to enjoy herself yet always a little embarrassed at doing so. And her eyes, a light gray blue, with eyebrows that seductively curve above them. She plays with her hairstyle quite often but she never dyes it away from its natural brown. Today she left her hair loose such that it rests just below her shoulders.
None of that really matters though, if you ask me. Like I said, she’s conservative and she’s mom. There are more rewarding girls to look at than her. Anyway, I digress… My eyes drifted closed again and eventually her questions stopped. Hearing Carl mumble softly to himself, he must have fallen asleep. I tried following suit.
“I have to make a phone call,” mom said as she turned to me. My eyes glanced away, bored.
I could only hear one side of the conversation. This is what I made out.
“Oh thank god you answered. How are you, Tom?
…
“Oh just fine, here’s the thing — I’m running a little late today.”
…
“No not in the teacher’s lot, I have my son with me.”
…
“Yeah, you’re probably right, but this isn’t the time.”
…
“Okay, front lot with the orange cone. Thanks again, Tom.”
She hung up. “Who was that,” I asked.
“Tom? ‘just a work friend. He’s saving us a parking spot in the front.”
Carl had woken back up now and interrupted into the conversation with, “Can’t you just drop us off like a mile away, and we’ll walk?” Carl’s not known for his manners — I chimed in with agreement anyway.
Mom, not one to let rudeness bother her, turned to both of us: “We’re already late. You’re not going to miss one extra minute of school.”
A police siren wailed behind us. I turned around.
“Mom, I think there’s a patrol car behind you.”
She paid no attention, “Why would there be-”
Another loud blast of the siren cut her off.
“Perfect — just perfect.”
We had pretty much arrived at school by now and mom started pulling over in the front parking lot. I couldn’t help but demonstrate how pissed off I was by mumbling, “none will see us being driven to school with you? And now we’re getting pulled over right in the fucking school parking lot.”
“Language, Parker! I’m sure it’s some misunderstanding. You two shush for now and let me talk to the officer,” she said to us.
***Bill***
It’s 7:45am and we’re making our rounds around the high school. It’s been maybe three years of Paul and I perfecting our method. I remember how it started. We were sitting outside a Micky D’s, drinking our $1 coffee when I asked Paul,
“You hear about that McDonald’s fiasco?
Paul returned, “The one on Jefferson, another robbery?”
“No, no, the movie man, just came out.”
Paul gave me that blank stare and shrugged, so I continued, “Well, I watched it last night. It’s a true story ya know. This hot McDonald’s employee, right — she gets strip searched by her own colleagues all because of some cop impersonator on the phone telling them to do so.”
Paul, between sips of his coffee, mumbled, “Crazy world…”
Sometimes his indifference really pisses me off. I said, “Stop being a dweeb, Paul — you know what I’m getting at.”
He didn’t respond.
I continued, “Jesus okay, the point is this girl right — she went along with it. Even her employees searching her went along with it. Everyone went along with it. Get it?”
Paul gave a silent grunt. He really is an ugly motherfucker.
“Look, just follow my lead.”
That was our first case, years ago now. Paul has since gained more than a couple pounds. The lady’s like that less, I’m sure. Hell, it feels like we’ve managed to make ourselves more repulsive in these last few years, out of pure pleasure of the craft.
Paul pointed to a silver Corolla at our 11, “that’s her.”
It was almost 8am now. She’s late. No matter. As the car passed, I said to Paul “Looks like she has company in the back seat.”
He smirked, “go time.”
I made a quick u-turn and flipped on the siren.
***Parker***
The cop walked up to the car, looking bored out of his mind. Mom was evidently quite worried — it’s not like she had anything to say to us, but she’s a talkative person, and her quietness, well, it unnerved me.
Still, I couldn’t help myself from gloating a bit. I had no idea why mom got pulled over. I doubt she had any idea either. Nevertheless, she forced us to go with her to school and now there’s an officer approaching her window. ‘Felt like a bit of revenge.
KNOCK KNOCK
“One second” my mom mouthed to the officer as she took a few extra moments to find the window button. The officer was looking everywhere except at mom and us, like he was scouting the scene.
The school busses were just arriving and instead of the students going to their classes they just kind of made a semicircle around our car. Even our school’s president joined them. I recognized a few of my friends in the crowd. And then there were the other parents, who upon dropping off their kids, decided to stay in their cars and watch the latest town-gossip unfold. Some faculty and staff had parked and waited outside to watch what was going on. The flashing police lights created quite the beacon. I even recognized a few of my buds by the school grounds — ‘uncertain if they realized it was Carl and I in the car yet.
“What can I do for you officer?” asked my mom politely.
“License and registration, mam”
“Officer… Bill [she must have read his badge], my name is Mrs. Morrison — a teacher at this school. I have to get to my class and my son and his friend have to get to theirs. Can we perhaps handle this later?”
“License and registration,” he grunted back. What an asshole. Mom was being perfectly polite and this guy couldn’t care less. So much for that pseudo-happy revenge feeling, now I wanted to punch this moron.
“Are you recording this?” questioned mom. Following her eyes, there was a big button with a lens on the officer’s uniform.
“New policy. You’re wasting your own time here. You need to get to your class and I need to get to my coffee. I suggest you hand over your license and registration,” he stated back with this drawn-out boring cadence.
“One second, it’s in the glovebox”
Mom rummaged through the mess of dad’s glovebox. Her blouse gaped open around the buttons again as she leaned across the center aisle.
“Here they are!” she said, turning to the officer with a smile.
Instead of waiting for the documents, the officer brazenly reached across the center console and grabbed the registration from mom. The whole thing was so unexpected and so quick that I almost missed the back of the officer’s hand as it brushed up against mom’s chest. She flinched for a blink of a second, but let it off as a rude mistake.
“This will only take a moment,” remarked Bill to all of us. And with that he dragged himself slowly back to his car, the police lights still on.
“Well… this was unexpected…” said mom to us, putting on one of her contagious smiles.
“People are starting to gather round…” said Carl sullenly.
“Class has to be starting any minute now — they’ll clear away soon. Hey at least you two are getting what you want.”
We looked at her with a question mark.
“You’re missing class!” she said, laughing.
“Hah yeah, this is true” I said, smiling at Carl. He still seemed a bit pissy.
“Don’t get too comfortable — the officer should be back any minute now, telling us he’s made some mistake.”
“How can I get comfortable when half the school is watching us?” said Carl, to himself.
“It’s just a few people, no one you know,” countered mom.
Carl looked up. “There’s Henry right over there, and Rob, and there’s Mr. Clements — yeah ‘no one you know'”. I looked up and, well, he was right. This was obviously not going to stay a secret. Not that I cared – it’s kind of badass isn’t it? Being pulled over by the cops in front of school.
“Well I don’t…” started my mom before we all saw the officer approach the window again.
“Mam — your registration is expired.”
“Expired? Well, maybe my husband didn’t put in the most recent card, but if you look…”
“We ran the registration — it’s expired,” interrupted the officer. His eyes, this time, were not looking around. They were beating down on mom.
“Okay okay, so I’ll renew the registration. Is that all officer?” asked my mom, obviously a bit perplexed.
“The attitude isn’t necessary.”
“What attitude? My son is going to miss class, my entire class is going to miss theirs — and all because, what? My registration is expired. Why did you pull us over anyway?”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Have I been drinking?! It’s 8am in the morning! No, I haven’t been…” Mom’s voice was escalating. More people started to gather. The bells for class rang but no one was moving.
“Step of the car.”
“Are you crazy?!”
“Step out of the car, now.”
Mom flustered and angry, turned to us: “Just sit tight, this won’t take more than a second.” She opened the door and started to step out of the car. Bill grabbed her by the arm.
Hey!” she huffed. Bill ignored her.
“Stand here,” he said as he forced her towards the front of our car, facing us. We could see her clearly through the windshield. Mom looked confused.
“Yo Mrs. Morrison! Late night?” yelled a boy walking by. I recognized him as Tim in my 3rd period history class with mom. Our windows were still rolled down, Carl and I could hear everything.
“Just a misunderstanding, don’t be late for…” smiled mom before she was interrupted.
“Move along kid. And mam, this is not a misunderstanding. Spread your legs. Raise your arms to the sides. We’re going to conduct a sobriety test,” commanded officer Bill.
“Right here?” questioned mom.
“It’s either that or we take you back to the station.
Mom sighed and assumed the position.
Bill continued, “I’m going to ask you a series of questions now. Answer them as succinctly and promptly as you can. What is your name?
“Melissa Morrison”
“What is your son’s name?”
“Parker Morrison”
“What is your occupation”
“History teacher”
“What is your favorite color?”
Mom stuttred, “I don’t….” I turned to Carl with marked confusion. He just shrugged and looked back at mom.
“What is your favorite color?” questioned the officer again.
“Red” replied mom, perplexed.
“When was the last time you had a gynological exam?”
Mom brought her hands to the side and started to look around her. “What the fuck?” I mumbled. Bill quickly moved alongside her and forced her back into place.
“When was the last time you had a gynological exam?” repeated Bill, louder now. The crowd rose to a mumble as they heard him.
“What does that have to do with…” whispered mom.
Bill took out his and spoke, “Take her in, suspect is becoming disobedient.”
Mom mumbled, “last month.”
“Cancel that,” said Bill.
“Who was your doctor?” continued Bill.
“Dr. Herly”
“So far so good. We will continue with a few dexterity tests. Understand?”
Mom nodded.
“Raise your hands above your head, bring your hands together.”
Mom’s blouse became untucked as she raised her arms.
“Touch your nose with your right hand, and then your left.”
Bill continued, “Walk away from the car in a straight line, one foot in front of the other.”
Bill followed mom as she walked about ten feet.
“Bend forward, keeping your knees locked.”
Mom hesitated and then started to bend forward. Her skirt rose to her upper thighs.
“Touch your toes,” said Bill.
“Nice bra!” shouted someone from the crowd. Her blouse must have fallen down past her lower back, though I couldn’t see that side of her. Instead, Carl’s and eyes enlarged tenfold as mom’s evidently lace white panties came into view, pressing into her mound like Seran wrap. I banked the view for future use, thinking nothing would ever compare. Boy was I wrong…
“That’s not right!” shouted a female. The officer paid no attention. Mom started to get up with the sound of help and understanding. Bill placed his hand on her lower back, keeping her down. And I noticed something fall.
“What’s this?” shouted Bill.
Mom started to stand up.
“Stay down!” screamed Bill.
“Oh shit,” I remarked, turning to Carl. He was stunned.
“Paul, get over here,” radioed Bill. A second patrolman was soon by his side. Bill handed him, what looked to me like a packet of baking soda.
“Stand up,” said Bill. Mom was standing again. Her clothes were disheveled. Her face a confused mess. She was visibly shaking a little. Her skirt had ridden up quite a ways. She tried to compose herself, but I could notice her evident distress, and felt bad.
Paul, looked into his partner’s camera and said robotically, “For the record. This packet of what appears to be cocaine fell out of the culprit’s blouse during her sobriety test. We suspect she may have additional illegal substances on her person.”
Mom gasped and looked towards me for the first time.
“Wait, somethings… somethings wrong!” she forced out in a stutter. I didn’t know what to do. What could I do?
Bill glared at me, but he must have seen my compliance. His glare turned into a smirk.
“Melissa right?” he nicely asked mom.
Mom, always a sucker for politeness, nodded her head: “Mhmm.”
Bill continued, “Mellisa, here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to search you for contraband. Paul, my partner here, is going to watch and record this with his camera for transparency as our new policy requires. The search is fairly simple as long you follow my orders. Understand?”
“Yes,” said mom. I took an opportunity to glance at school. Most of the staff had gone in, along with the students. But there was still a decent amount of them out there — evidently deciding to skip 1st period — ‘can’t say I blame ’em.
Tauntingly, Bill butt in with, “Yes sir.”
Mom, her eyebrows furrowed, whispered, “Yes, sir.”
And with that, Bill shoved mom onto the hood of our car. She grunted. Her cleavage spilled out of her disheveled blouse. Bill quickly ran his hands through her hair, down her arms and sides, down her legs and back up.
“Raise your arms to the sides, I’m going to pat you down,” said Bill. Mom lifted herself off the car and rose her arms. Bill rand his hands down each arm, wrapped them around her waist, and then slowly worked his way up her stomach. Watching mom being frisked, it seemed to me like the officer was taking his sweet time.
“Anything in here?” asked Bill, obviously suggesting mom’s bra.
“No,” said mom.
“No, sir.”
“No, sir.” repeated mom.
“Stand still,” said Bill as he unbuttoned mom’s blouse. I could see her entire bra, its lace with lightly padded cups. Bill let his hands roam the outside of mom’s bra.
Bill worked his hands into each cup, squeezing mom’s tits. Her mouth was an “oh,” as she got felt up by this asshole. Then he lifted mom’s tits out of her cups entirely. I saw her nipples. Each areola a soft pink with hardened erasers at the end. Carl and I gasped — our eyes were glued.
Bill worked his hands inside mom’s bra cups and then shook each tit individually. Mom was still facing us and I’m not sure if anyone else could see what we were seeing — I couldn’t help but be feel like they were missing out. Finally, Bill removed his hands but not before rudely stuffing mom’s tits back into her bra. Her nipples were still poking out and her blouse was still unbuttoned halfway down.
Mom was shivering. Her eyes were closed. She must have known we, and whoever else, saw everything.
Bill grabbed mom’s arms and brought them together behind her back, forcing her chest out forward. He bended her torso down, pressing it into our cars hood yet again. Mom’s tits spilled out of her blouse as they smashed into the car.
“Anything in here?” asked Bill again. He was kneeling behind mom now, out of our viewpoint.
“No, no sir” replied Mom in a quivering voice.
“Are you sure?” said Bill sarcastically.
“HEY! You can’t do that in public! That’s not right!” shouted a woman watching from afar.
Bill’s partner yelled back, “This procedure is being filmed for its admissibility in a court of law. If you have a complaint, you can bring it up in court. Until then, you will be charged for interfering with law enforcement, a punishable offense.”
No one said a word after that.
I couldn’t see what Bill was up to. Mom was visibly panting now. Tears started to run slowly down her eyes. Out of nowhere there was a collective GASP from the crowd by the school. I could see mom making movements with her hips and legs, as if there were some fly she was trying to shake off.
Bill stood up, holding a white pair of lace panties, and looked into the camera, “There appear to be traces of cocaine, the same we found in the packet, on these items. Mom was still leaning over the hood, quietly sobbing.
“Stand up,” said Bill in that bored voice of his.
Mom stood up, her skirt now bunched up around her hips. We could easily make out the beginnings of a groomed triangle above her vulva. Mom pulled her skirt back down to a reasonable length, but she didn’t get far before Bill shouted, “Arms to your sides!”
“Open your mouth,” said Bill.
“But…” mom whispered out.
“Say yes sir and open your mouth now!” commanded Bill.
“Yes, sir”
Mom opened her mouth. Bill worked his ungloved hand around her lips, her cheeks, towards the back of her throat. She gagged and Paul in between a chuckle said, “Says a lot about her husband…”
“She’s clean,” said Bill into Paul’s camera. Then Bill took out his handcuffs and cuffed mom’s wrists together behind her bac. She was shaking, sobbing slightly still, trying to recover her sense of self.
Bill, turning to us, said, “Get out of the car you two, you’re not going to school today.”
Mom butt in, “Leave them out of this, what did they do?”
“That remains to be seen,” replied Paul.
We followed behind Bill as he walked mom towards the patrol vehicle
The bottom of mom’s pale ass peeked out beneath her bunched up skirt. I tried to not to stare but couldn’t help myself. It looked like she was having a hard time walking.
“Mom, are you okay?” I asked.
She turned to me as best she could, forcing on a smile between her tears, and said, “Yes yes honey, I’m…”
“Your mom is in a lot of trouble son,” interrupted Bill as he opened the passenger side door.
“You’ll sit up here,” continued Bill to mom, “and my partner will sit in the back with…” he paused, looking at us.
“Parker,” I said.
“and Carl,” continued my friend.
“Good,” said Bill as he gently pushed mom into her seat. With her hands cuffed behind her back, it was awkward movement to get into the car. She placed one foot in first, and sat down, then tried to swing her other leg in. We could see right up her skirt, her pussy lips glistening below a groomed triangle of hair. The whole motion took a few seconds and we ate up the sight. Mom must have known we could see her, but she didn’t make any acknowledgement of it.
Every image we saw this morning now burned into my mind: her large pale white tits, a little bit of ass cheek, her spread legs revealing her groomed pussy. Carl and I looked at each other, both thinking the same thought: “I’m scared but damn if I can’t wait to go home and wank one out — it can’t get better than this.”
The rest of us filed into the car. Bill started up the engine.
“Turn off the camera, Paul,” said Bill as he pulled away from the parking lot. The crowd was still there, still watching us leave. It was larger than I realized. There was my math teacher, Mr. Rittle, my vice principal, Mrs. Tortolo, a few of my classmates, Tom — my mom’s colleague — was probably there, even our janitor. They were all aghast.
**Ch.2**
***Bill***
“Right this way,” I told Melissa as I walked her into our main office. Beth, our secretary was lounging at her desk — half asleep. No one has any idea what goes on here. Hell, a church sees more action than this place — at least I’m sure that’s what Beth believes.
Paul turned to the two kids and told them to sit down by the few chairs we had around for waiting. I lead Melissa into the private security room and shut the door.
As soon as I closed the door, Melissa turned to me and said, “Now listen, you tell me right now what the hell is going on. I won’t press charges, but whatever this is, it has to stop now.”
“Melissa, ‘whatever this is,’ it isn’t going to be over for a long, long time. You’re here on position of cocaine. I can keep you hear for weeks before there’s a trial. You’ll win the trial, of course, but you’ll lose your job, your community, your life in the process.”
“Now here is what’s going to happen. You’re going to strip your clothes off entirely and I am going to complete my search of you. After that, we let you leave — all charges dropped.”
“What about my son,” she asked with her head down.
“Your son and his friend will leave Scot free.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
I removed her handcuffs and had her stand in the center of the room.
“You can start with your blouse and bra.”
Melissa’s hands were vibrating with nerves as she undid the remaining buttons on her top. Her nipples were peeking out above her bra cups, just as I left them. As she removed the top and bra completely, her breasts hung down slightly in that fit but motherly kind of way. They were more than a handful, but not obscene.
“Now your skirt, heels, and socks,” I continued.
As she bent over to remove her shoes, I watched her tits flop around as they hung down to the floor. She stood up, completely naked, one arm covering her breasts and the other protecting her snatch. I won’t have that.
“Spread your legs, and place your arms to the side.”
She placed her feet about 3 feet apart.
“Wider,” I said.
She moved her feet 5 feet apart. Her labia, which was this gorgeous shade of pink, started to spread open. She kept good care of herself, that was obvious. Her stomach was flat, not muscular — just flat. Her thighs were a pale white, the same color of her breasts. Above her pussy was a perfect triangle of well-groomed hair. Her head was hanging down, her eyes half-closed.
I moved towards her and moved my hands up her legs.
“I know I already searched you here. Hell, half of your class probably knows that…” I said jokingly. Her thighs quivered.
“But, you’d be surprised how well women can hide paraphernalia. They hide them in all sorts of places…”
My hands brushed up against her pussy. She was glistening with perspiration. Her pussy was wet and I easily put two fingers in her. She let out a reluctant moan. I worked my hand more and more into her, up and down, up and down, occasionally pulling out to rub her clit. With my other hand, I groped her butt. My fingers grazed her asshole and she gasped.
“I don’t have anything in there!”
I ignored her and worked my thumb up her pucker, circling it and opening it wider. My other hand continued rubbing her clit. She was going to cum soon, I could feel it.
***Parker***
Carl and I were waiting in the main officer with this Paul character for at least half an hour now. We had no idea what we were waiting for. Paul kept trying to make conversation with us, like nothing happened. The whole situation was awkward as fuck. Eventually Paul stopped talking and just stared at the door mom was taken through.
It was odd, you’d think a police station would be great for people watching. And yet here we were and there wasn’t a soul to see come in and out. Obviously, our town didn’t have much going on in the way of crime. I don’t think the secretary at the desk even noticed we were there.
Eventually Paul sighed and said to us, “I’m going to see what the hold-up is.” He got up and walked to the door, in no hurry at all.
“Hey Bill, need any help?” asked Paul as he opened the door wide.
“Oh my god!” blurted out of Carl and myself. Mom was completely naked, her legs spread apart, her breasts quivering and saturated in sweat. Bill was on his knees, both hands working themselves into her. Mom was trying to hold in her gasps, but a whimper and a moan escaped her lips every second, one after the other. She turned to the door as soon as Paul opened it, and saw us. Her eyes wide, frozen like a deer in headlights.
“Not right now, come back in a bit, “replied Bill casually.
“Okay,” said Paul as he closed the door. He walked back to us. We were stunned into silence. I had an obvious boner at this point and I think Paul must have noticed because he smirked as he sat back down.
Not a few minutes later and Paul got up again.
“Bill, I’m getting bored out here!” he shouted as he opened the door slightly. I couldn’t see as much, but mom was clearly on her knees now, making sounds like she was gagging. Ghghghghghgghgh. You get the idea.
“One second,” replied Bill.
“Get up and bend over the table,” he continued. He must have been talking to mom now.
“Close the door, my son can see me,” replied mom.
“Do I have to tell you again?” asked Bill in a voice dripping with threat.
“No no, okay” whimpered mom.
“Come on in, Paul, and shut the door behind you,” said Bill.
Paul opened the door wide before closing it back. Mom was bent over the table, still nude, her ass in the air, her cheeks spread wide by her own hands. Bill’s cock was out, lining up to fuck her — that was obvious enough. Then the door closed and the scene was over.
I turned to Carl, “What the fuck is going on?”
“I have no idea — should we do something?”
“What can we do?”
“I don’t know, call for help?”
“Mom looked willing in there — what will they do to her if they’re threatened. Plus, who are we going to call?”
“I don’t know, the secretary?”
We looked at the snoozing secretary and then back at each other. The conversation pretty much ended there. We just started at the door, heard the occasional thumping, and kept our thoughts to ourselves.
Maybe 20 minutes later and they all walked out. Bill and Paul were dressed fully in their police garb. Mom was clothed again, but her blouse was still half unbuttoned and she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard and poking through the top like it was nonexistent. Her hair was disheveled, her skin looked sticky and wet. Her eyes were glazed over, like you see in those war movies.
“Come on, let’s go.” She said to us.
We got up and followed her out the front door.
“Drive safe,” shouted Paul on our way out. Mom shivered.
Our car was parked out front with the keys in it. How it got there I have no idea — maybe it was towed. We all climbed inside. Halfway through the drive mom pulled over, turned to us, she had calmed down by this point, and said,
“There are people, men, in this world who are just… well. Today is over. Let us forget it.”
And with that she drove on. I couldn’t forget it though. She hadn’t buttoned up her top, her breasts were still just there for the looking. I couldn’t help but consider whether her panties were missing too. Carl’s eyes, I noticed, were also glued to mom’s body. I’m not sure she even knew how she looked, but we sure did.
When we arrived, I jumped out the car before anyone else, ran to mom’s door and opened it for her. She smiled at me like I was treating her to something special — far from the truth. As she got out, her legs spread open and I could see right up her skirt. Sure enough, there was her pussy, dripping wet with cum. Mom must have not noticed my wandering eyes.
All she said was, “You’re such a gentleman.”
Carl, of course, knew exactly what I did. He snickered when mom said that.
It was the afternoon when we arrived. Mom went up to her room immediately, ran a shower, and I didn’t see her until the next morning. Carl went home a few minutes after we arrived, he walked (he’s only a few houses down). I went to my room, masturbated like I never had before, and slept a dreamy sleep. They day was done. Life will go back to normal. For short while this was true.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/adnzum/mom_and_the_police_officer_p1_mf_mdom_humiliation