{Stop reading right now if you are under 18, don't appreciate the joys of
 full-figured women, or are offended by cum, sweat, pee, toys, oral sex,
 anal sex, group sex, food/messy sex, watersports, light bondage/d&s,
 underclothing, masturbation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, marital infidelity or
 just plain fucking.  Also don't bother reading it if you are expecting
 something that's violent or genuinely degrading or humiliating to anyone. 
 *Do* consider reading it if you like a bit of story with your sensuality.
 I am the author of this fictional novella and I assert no legal rights over
 it.  You may do anything you please within the limits of applicable law
 with the text.}


  Scorpio Madness, ch. 3 of 8 (mff, FA, w/s, light b/d, cons)
  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

           by Green Onions (an434987@anon.penet.fi)


 ``JEE-zus, Rikki!!  Willya plEEZ getyer clothes back on?!''
 
 Sorry--I'm no mythical superhero--and the odor in the car was
 nothing if not compromising.  How in the hell was I going to get
 out of this with a whole skin?

 The last thing I needed was to have Rikki sitting there
 practically stark-naked right next to me like some kind of buxom
 Buddha, giggling helplessly with her fat breasts dripping over
 the rolled-down champagne-soaked bra.

 Besides, I had to get my shorts back on and attend to my own
 fly.  A quick glance in the mirror to comb my hair revealed a
 burly cop strutting in our direction, bandying a long thick
 flashlight between the fingers of one hairy hand.  The much more
 menacing clipboard was raised in the other.
 
 I had a clear view of the death warrant's carbon paper
 fluttering carelessly in the breeze, proud as Old Glory.

 He leaned over the window and glowered at both of us.  The smell
 of champagne lingered in the air, mixed with an undertone of
 Rikki's pussy juice.  I thought I saw him repress a smile and
 replace it with a much more intimidating expression.
 
 Rikki had only managed to get her jeans and bra back on.  She
 had cleaned up her attitude, but her attire was stained in a few
 places and dripping in others. 

 It was one of those moments when an explanation would have
 spoiled the mood.

 ``Your LICENSE.''

 I produced the required plastic card and proffered proof of
 insurance with an appropriately somber expression.

 As the warm wind blew in from Rikki's open window, I was
 initially grateful for the breeze which cooled the perspiration
 beading on my brow and under my armpits.  

 Until I realized that the cop must have gotten a big whiff of
 champagne as a result.  The bottle was lying right next to
 Rikki.  
 
 He saw it, we knew he saw it, and he knew we knew he saw it.

 ``Yew stay right where you are--don't move a muscle!'', he
 bellowed, deftly thrusting a hairy forearm right in front of my
 nose and practically stabbing Rikki in the eye with an
 outstretched forefinger.  He seemed to be looking at her moist
 breasts and full thighs, not at her poker face.

 ``...and _yew_ get outta the car!''  
 
 ``Yessir'', I said in a low voice.  I wanted to make it clear
 that I was compliant without openly kissing his ass.

 ``Git yer hands on the side!''  I spread-eagled demurely and he
 patted me down quickly.  There wasn't much I could have
 concealed.  Then he went through my wallet and thoroughly
 inspected the contents.
 
 Fortunately I'd learned long ago never to carry anything there.
 But I did rather regret having a couple of joints carefully
 rolled up inside a pair of socks in my locked suitcase.

 `Officer Hardass' (as I'd started calling him in my mind) seemed
 almost annoyed that I had nothing incriminating in my wallet.  I
 knew that the slightest display of sanguinity on my part could
 result in my face being shoved into the gravel, so I remained
 perfectly expressionless.

 He surprised me by thrusting his nose in my face and almost
 spitting at me, military-style: ``How much have you had to
 drink??!''

 ``Nothing, officer...*I* opened it even though he told me it was
 against the law!'',  Rikki ejaculated, leaning out the driver's
 window.  She still hadn't put on her tee-shirt and her chest was
 pressed up against the door.
 
 ``Keep quiet lady...and stay where you are like I tolja!''
 barked Officer Hardass in response.

 ``Yew LYIN' to me, Mister?''  This time he really was close
 enough to spray his spit in my face.  I finally got it.  Copper
 was smelling my breath.  He glared at me for a second or two and
 strutted back to his car.  A fierce parting look was enough to
 assure our continued docility.

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 It wasn't more than a couple of minutes before we were greeted
 by the return of civilization's foundation personified.  He came
 complete with clipboard and what I assumed was the valuable
 revelation that my car registration and license weren't faked,
 and that I wasn't wanted in a dozen states for axe-murdering
 widows and orphans.
 
 I must have stared blankly at his furious expression for a long
 five seconds before he began to snarl, angrily waving the
 bureaucratic ordnance dangerously close to my face.

 ``Yew know whut?  You _are_ a _stewpid_ _FFFuck_!  You know
   that?!''

 ``Yes sir.  I should not have let her open it.  But I wasn't
   going--''

 ``Shuttup!  Now git back into your car and pour out thet
   bottle!!''

 No question about it.  I was going to get a ticket, but at least
 I wasn't going to need a plastic surgeon.  After I emptied the
 receptacle he jammed his nose right back into the car again,
 like an unwelcome grizzly probing an open tent-flap.

``Yew know the only reason I'm _not_ gonna to give you a citation
  is because I got way too much goddamned paperwork.  But if I
  _ever_ catch yew messin' 'round here like this again I'm gonna
  *KICK* YERRR ASS.  Got it?''

 ``Yes, sir.  Thank you.''  It was impossible to repress a small
   smile.  

 All of a sudden his forearm was also in the car.  Right in front
 of me.
 
 Before I knew it, he'd snatched Rikki's pungent panties from the
 dashboard and whisked them out the wide-open window.

 Again, the glare.
 
 ``And if you *ever* report _this_, *that* ticket is going to be
   discovered in the bottom of my drawer.   It says you failed a
   field sobriety test.''

 Somehow we both managed to avoid laughing out loud at the sight
 of the burly cop strutting back to his car with the elegant
 clipboard in one hand and Rikki's messy panties in the other.  

 A `thin blue line' indeed.

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 ``I'm sorry Honey...I'll try to be a little more careful next
   time.''

 ``Shit Rikki, I'm so glad we're white!  And thank goodness he
   was kinky.  An open-container ticket would have jacked up my
   rates like crazy.  Let alone what my _wife_ would have
   said....Sweetheart, you *really* have to learn to follow the
   rules in a case like this!''

 ``Well, I know the cops around here often give people breaks on
   tickets.  I've gotten out of one before.''

 I was astonished, but I believed her.  It was just like Rikki to
 put herself into a situation in which she got stopped and end up
 with something other than a ticket for her trouble.
 
 She stretched her sweaty tee-shirt over her full torso.   It was
 as if two big grapefruits and a small watermelon were battling
 one another for space in the same overtaxed plastic bag.
 
 As I was ogling the Good Earth's Delights, I realized that I
 had missed some aspects of her Worldly Nature during my close
 brush with Insurance Hell.

 Evidently Rikki had not been able to pull her jeans up in time. 
 Or perhaps they were just too tight.  The stained crotch was
 partly unbuttoned.

 Some of Rikki's bushy pussy hairs boldly displayed a few tiny
 tell-tale droplets of cum and champagne, though most had dripped
 onto the visible portion of her round thighs and pudgy jelly
 roll.  No wonder the law was a-lookin'.

 As the adrenaline began to subside I realized that it was going
 to be absolutely fabulous to go to bed with this lasciviously
 fleshy, hedonistically sexy, and superlatively sensuous sassy 
 Goddess.  Rikki was way out of control and I had a ticket to
 ride.
 
 What I couldn't understand is why the sign I could only dimly
 make out ahead appeared to say something like ``69 Motel''.


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