Date: Fri, 5 Jul 2013 12:24:07 +0200
From: Charles Thomas <charles.thomas.oak@gmail.com>
Subject: Bad Girl but Good Boy II

Bad girl but Good Boy II...the continuing (mis)adventures...

	I sat still, looking in my rear view mirror at the cop as he walked
toward my car.  This was a can of worms he was about to open and I wasn't
sure about how he'd feel about it.  You see, being a 17 year old boy in a
brand new Porsche pulled over on a dirt road out in the middle of nowhere
by some country Sheriff Deputy is bad enough.  But, when you're a 17 year
old boy dressed in a long, flowing skirt and a tight, sequined tank top
with fake tits taped to your chest and maybe too much makeup on (I was
going to a party, which would be my excuse if he called me on the makeup),
and the Porsche you're driving happens to be your rich lawyer boyfriend's
car?  Well, that's a can of worms.

	But I sat still. I didn't panic. I didn't act suspicious.  I had no
drugs, no alcohol and, hopefully, my boyfriend didn't have any stashed away
somewhere, either.  I just waited for him to walk up to my open window.

	I took a deep breath.  He was a hulking guy.  One of those
massively muscled gym rats, who probably had all sorts of issues with his
dad, his mom and whoever molested him as a child.  He'd probably take me
out into a field and shoot me and fuck my corpse once he finds out I'm a
boy in women's clothes, I thought.  I shook my head.  Or he'll be a nice
and understanding, open-minded, country cop.  Uh-huh...right.

	Moments earlier we had passed each other slowly going opposite ways
on the narrow dirt road, barely squeeking by, he in his early model muscle
car and me in the somewhat ridiculous German sports car.  I was lost,
bigger 'n shit as my grandfather would say, having been told to meet before
mentioned boyfriend at before mentioned party.  The keys are in the bedside
stand and you need to come pick me up as I'll just take a taxi out of the
city, he told me, before launching on a long description of where this
party was.  Dress sexy, he said, but don't get weird.  Look like a sexy
lady.  Have some fucking dignity, he said.  Don't wreck the car, he told
me.

	Hence the long, pretty, spring-is-in-the-air skirt and bare
mid-rift.  I have nice belly, and the long skirt, which was somewhat poofy
at the hips, gave me a shape I didn't necessarily have.  The sequined top
was a bit slutty, but it was a nice one; not cheap.  The heels and my long
runner's legs completed the look.

	Anyway, I was fine with all of the instructions, and even confident
I would find the place, until I actually got into the car and starting
driving it.  Luckily enough it was automatic and somewhat easy to drive,
but the powerful car scared me and soon I was concentrating more on not
breaking it then where the hell I was.  That's when I found myself on a
dirt road, slowly edging past the cop's car.  He caught my eye right away.
He was wearing mirror sunglasses and had a glorious mustache.  His badge
glinted in the low sun and he stared at me as we passed each other.  I gave
him a winning smile, hoping he wouldn't turn around and find a reason to
pull me over, but my hope was for naught as I saw him execute a three point
turn behind me and then come roaring up quickly and onto my ass.  Once he
got close blue and red lights started flashing from inside his car and I
noticed he had a set of lights sitting on the dashboard.

	So there I sat, all prettied up and lost when he reached my window
and leaned down.

	"Hello miss," he said.  "May I see your license and registration,
please?"

	I turned to him and smiled.  "Hello officer...of course..."  I
noticed he was holding a metallic binder in his hand, which probably held
all the tickets and whatever else he carried for this sordid business of
traffic stops.  I grabbed my purse off the other seat and dug around for my
license.  "It's in here...oh here you go."  I pulled it out, almost
reluctantly.  There, staring up at me, was me at age 16 getting my license.
My hair at the time had a blue streak in it and was in the classic "New
Wave" style of those days.  It was had a bit of androgyny going, but I was
clearly a boy in that photo. Not to mention my name.  I cleared my throat
nervously and gave it to him.

	He took my license and opened his metallic binder, sliding my
license into a little clip at the top.  As he did that, though, he suddenly
stopped and stared at the license, then he looked at me.  I smiled up at
him.

	"Hi," I said, faintly.  Please don't be a homophobe, I thought.
Please don't kill me.  "Is there a reason you stopped me?  I wasn't
speeding..."

	"Just seemed out of place.  Been lots of car thefts with kids
bringing them out here to strip them down."  He frowned and cocked his
head.  "Anway, uh...miss, it seems you gave me the wrong license," he said.

	"I'm sorry?"

	He pulled the license out of the clip and waved it in front of my
face.  "This isn't you...not sure why you'd have this kid's license.  I can
maybe see the resemblance.  Your brother maybe?  Regardless, can I get your
license please?  And I would return this to its rightful owner as soon as
possible.  Also, the registration for the vehicle, please."

	I put my hands on the edge of the car door, clasping the fingers
and rested my chin on top, looking up at him and batting my blue eyes.
"I...uh...well, you see officer, that is me."

	He blinked at me slowly and then he held the license up next to my
face.  "Okay..." he said slowly, drawing it out a bit.  "The vehicle's
registration please?"

	"Yessir," I said.  I turned away and opened the glove compartment,
found the required document and handed it to him.  "Um, the car is my
boyfriend's..."

	He sighed.  "Does he know you have his car?"

	I nodded, going back to leaning my chin on my hands on the door.  I
was trying to look as subservient as possible.  The officer studied the
registration.  As he did I gave him a good looking over.  His shiny name
plate said HUNTER on it, a wonderful police officer name, I thought.  He
was, truly, massively muscled.  His arms were as big around as my thighs, I
guessed, and his chest was broad, the pectorals like great big slabs of
beef under his shirt.  His shoulders were massive as well, and his back was
heavily muscled.  He had a flat top hair cut, a strong, brutish jawline
with a cruel mouth, a surprisingly small nose, that insanely bushy
mustache, and mean looking green eyes.  I looked down at his thighs and
admired the size of them.  He wasn't one of those muscle heads who worked
on their upper body only and forgot the legs.  He was probably a body
builder.  I instantly wondered if he did steroids, and if he had a tiny
dick because of it.  What a terrible thing, I thought, if he had a tiny
dick.  I tried to see what kind of bulge he had going, studying the crotch
of his pants.  He was tall, not as tall as my boyfriend, but tall and he'd
have to lower his body a bit to stick his dick in my waiting mouth if he
wanted.  If his dick was big enough, that is.  Before I could determine the
state of his manliness he gave a little laugh.

	"Wait a second," he said, holding the registration.  "This guy is
your boyfriend?"

	I shrugged.  "Yeah," I said softly.

	"Huh," he said.  "Funny.  I know him.  That fucking son-of-a-bitch
is a criminal defense lawyer isn't he?  For rich motherfuckers? He's the
one who gets them off?"

	"Well, he doesn't put it quite that way, but yes, that's basically
true," I said.  I swallowed as I saw the cruel look on his face.  If I
survive this, I thought, I'm going to slap the piss out of my boyfriend for
being a good lawyer.  "I mean, I think the only person he gets off, really,
is me."

	He ignored that and held up my license.  "And your last name...your
daddy.  He's a lawyer, too, right?  Same law firm?"

	"Business law," I said.  "Not a criminal defense lawyer.  Same law
firm, yes."

	"Sure, but he was put on a case as a public defender once."

	I really swallowed hard then.  My father had defended a notorious
gang member who had been caught in a sting operation by an undercover cop
and had gotten him reduced jail time.  The gang banger had gotten out after
several months and immediately hunted down and murdered the cop who had
arrested him.  I shrugged.

	"This is rich," he said.  There was a small pouch in the metallic
binder and he pulled a small point and shoot camera out of it.  "Hold this
next to your face," he ordered, handing me the license.  I did as I was
told and he took a photo.  Then he handed me the registration.

	"You're free to go," he said, smiling broadly and patting the
camera.  "And I think this film has become my own personal roll.  Tell
daddy and boyfriend I said hi."  I watched him start walking back to his
car and he was halfway there before I reacted.

	"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I shouted.  I opened the door and climbed out
of the Porsche.  Teetering in the rocks on the dirt road I ran after him.
He turned when he heard me and held up his hand.

	"Get back to your car...miss," he said, smiling.  "I'd hate to add
a charge of assaulting a police officer to everything else that's going to
happen."

	"Please," I said.  I stopped and stood there, holding my hands up
beseechingly.  "Listen...please don't do this."

	His eyes narrowed a bit and he walked back up to where I stood.
"Why?"

	I wanted to say, Because I have a great thing going and you'll ruin
it for me you bastard, but I didn't.  For a moment I had a vision of this
cop and my boyfriend, who had been a world class wrestler, fighting.
Naked.  And me stopping the fight and saying sharing is next to godliness
or some such and then getting the fucking of my life.

	"Because...I swear, if you don't I will do anything you want.  I
don't have much to give, but...please...I can keep a secret, okay?  And, I
will gladly get down on my knees right here--" I knelt down, hoping my
skirt wouldn't be ruined in the dust and rocks of the dirt road -- "and
suck your cock like it's never been sucked before."

	"Ha!" he scoffed and he held up the camera.  "Give this up for a
blow job?"

	"Regular blowjobs, early and often," I said.  "I would suck your
cock every time you wanted it." I licked my lips, thinking about it, hoping
he didn't have a tiny little steroid dick.  "I would let you fuck me in the
ass.  As much as you wanted."

	"You would LET me?"  He grabbed my left wrist and squeezed.  I
gasped at the pain and put my other hand on his forearm, feeling the muscle
there flex.  "You know I could just fuck you and still get these photos
published.  And that would end a couple of careers, wouldn't it?"

	"Please," I said, looking up at him.  "Yours would be ruined, too.
You don't want to rape me."  I let go of his forearm and reached out to cup
his crotch.  He stopped still and stared at me, still holding my left wrist
as my right hand began caressing the lump I found.  "I would really, really
like to do whatever you wanted me to do," I said softly.  I found his
zipper and pulled it down, tugging until his fly was open.  I slid my hand
inside and found his underwear.  No tiny dick there, I thought, as my hand
found the thick and half-erect penis under the cotton.

	"Regularly?" he breathed. I nodded.  His grip on my left wrist
slacked and I pulled my arm away.  Leaning forward I pushed my face into
his fly, smelling his manly smell.  I ran my tongue over his cotton covered
cock.  "Not here," he said.  "Get in your car and follow me."

	Deputy Hunter took me to a small shack down a long driveway about a
mile away.  I joined him at the front door, which was held secure by a
chain and a padlock.  "I just got off duty," he explained.  "This is my
little get away place. My partner keeps the cruiser at his house."  After
he had gotten the padlock opened and had unwrapped the chain from the metal
loop on the door and the metal loop on the doorsill, I followed him inside.

	There were weight sets inside the single room shack, lots of
weights.  To one side was a bed and a small table held men's muscle mags,
the kind filled with pretty boys helping each other lift weights, shirtless
and wearing tiny little shorts.  I began to understand why Deputy Hunter
was willing to take me up on the offer.  I had fallen into his lap.

	He turned to me, almost nervously.  "Okay," he said.  He unbuckled
his gun belt and put it on a weight bench out of the way.  I hiked my skirt
up and got down on my knees, hoping my pantyhose didn't develop a run.  He
stepped forward and I reached out and unzipped his pants again, tugging
them down his powerful thighs.  His underwear were next until his thick,
hard cock sprang free.  His pubic hair was trimmed short, probably so he
could wear his little speedos during body building competitions.  I grabbed
his cock, admiring it's girth.  It was probably about 6 inches, but thick
as hell and cut.  The head spread like a cobra at my touch.  I stroked it,
looking at the big balls that hung incredibly low.

	"I like low hanging fruit," I said.  I leaned in and took one testy
into my mouth.  It was salty and filled my mouth nicely.  I heard him groan
and I ran my free hand up the rippling muscles of his six pack abs to his
chest.  I let his ball go and sucked the other one.

	"Holy fuck," he said.  I looked up into his intense eyes and his
mouth opened. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss that mouth with
that big mustache, or how it would feel if that mustache was tickling my
balls as he sucked me and I sucked him.  I let his testy go and pulled the
cock down.  Into my mouth it went, a hot, tasty, pulsing shaft.  My one
hand stroked the shaft as I sucked the head, enjoying the hot, bitter taste
of his precum.  My other hand slid around to his muscular ass and cupped
it, kneeding the soft skin over the hard muscle.  I imagined that butt
clinching as he rammed his thick cock into me and I moaned around his
thickness, my voice muffled.

	I pulled back.  "Fuck my mouth," I said, looking up at him. He
obliged, grabbing my head as I took his cock back into my mouth.  He began
to thrust into me, my lips stroking his shaft, the head hitting the back of
my throat.

	"I wanna fuck you, you fucking little slut," he growled.

	I felt my heart jump.  I grabbed his ass and helped him thrust into
my face.  He was gagging me, nearly, but I continued on, showing him the
rhythm.  He finally pulled away and I knelt there, watching him stagger
back with his thick meat swinging around, wet with my spit. He pushed his
pants down and off, and then took his shirt off.

	I admired his physique.  "Incredible," I breathed.  He was a
mountainous man, all muscle and power.  I grabbed my purse and pulled my
lube out.  While he was pulling his socks off I pushed my pantyhose down
and lubed up my ass.  He grabbed me and pushed me over to a weight set to
one side.  He pulled my panty hose completely off, throwing them to one
side.

	I straddled the weight bench, putting both hands on the barbell and
leaning over.  I felt him lift my skirt, his rough hands on my ass.

	"Goddamit that's a nice ass," he said.  He pushed his thick
cockhead against my eager anus and began slowly pushing in. Impatient as
always, I arched my back and bucked against him.  He took the hint and
thrust into me, balls deep.  "Oh fuck yeah," he breathed.  He leaned over
me and I felt his mustache tickle my neck as he kissed my skin.  He reached
around and fondled one fake breast, which was nothing more than a bag of
sylicone taped to the outside of my chest and held tightly by the top.  He
groaned and his hand slide down my belly to the front of my skirt where it
found my hard penis poking out. As he thrust into me he stroked my hard
cock through the skirt.

	I arched my back as much as I could, looking over my shoulder at
his straining face.  He was nipping at my neck and I reached back over my
shoulder and grabbed the back of his head with my hand.  I pulled him so
his face was next to mine as he fucked me doggy style and craning my neck I
kissed his cheek.  He turned his head and we kissed.  I gasped against his
mouth at the feeling of that mustache on my cheek, his soft lips and his
hard tongue.  I could feel my sphincter tightening, pulsing around his
pistoning rod and then he suddenly stood upright, holding my hips as he
slammed into me wildly.  With one final thrust and a heavy jerk of his
body, he came grunting like an animal, his cum shooting inside me deep.

	The sight of him, as I looked over my shoulder, his muscles slick
with sweat, bulging outrageously with the powerful thrust of his hips, the
tight, painful grip of his hands on my hips, sent me over the edge and I
began to cum as well.

	We both collapsed to the bench, his prodigious weight covering me
in a sweaty, muscular heap.  I felt overpower, overmatched, and loved every
second of it.  As our breathing quieted I heard a phone ringing.  The car
phone.  My lawyer boyfriend wondering where I was.  I struggled from under
the deputy's weight and ran outside barefoot, holding my skirt up.  I
reached in and grabbed the fancy car phone.

	"Hello?" I was still a bit breathless.

	"Where are you?" he asked, worried.

	"I got a bit lost, but a nice sheriff's deputy is giving me
directions.  I should be there soon."

	"Okay," he said.  We hung up and I turned around to see Deputy
Hunter standing naked in the doorway.

	"Um...so...I guess we'll be seeing each other again?" I asked.

	He nodded.  "You said, 'regularly.'"

	"I did...now, you wouldn't happen to be able to tell me where I am,
would you?"