Inspired by local news item about a crash and “unusual” situation the coppers found. No details were given, so I made the story up on that premise. That idea led to the others, all fictional and imagined
“Remember that incident down the Biddesley road last September?” chuckled WPC Dawn Bloomfield, off duty in the Rumsey Police station.
“Christ Yeah! That carved the area up for hours,” responded WPC Julie Dunn, as she sat and pulled her black skirt up above her knees. She spread her strong legs and enjoyed the freedom of air filtering round her stockinged thighs.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t the road closures, she’s on about Julie,” said WPC Janet Woods, joining them in the staff room with a steaming kettle. “It was what we found when we got there. We were first on the scene.”
“Oh I haven’t been first on an incident yet. Must be terrible,” said Julie, pouring milk into large mugs. “Especially a fatal one.”
“Oh some of them can make you sick. I haven’t seen many but that was a cracker,” chuckled Dawn.
Janet poured some builders tea for them all, sat down, kicked off her flat black shoes and loosened her uniform. Tie first, then the two top buttons of her regulation shirt. She ran her hands through her very short black hair and rolled her shirt sleeves up to reveal several tattoos on muscular forearms. She took off her trendy rimless spectacles and cleaned them on the edge of her shirt.
“This new fucking bra is killing me,” Dawn muttered, pulling her shirt from her waistband and sticking her hand up.
Her colleagues watched the groping trail of the tall, voluptuous, dirty blonde’s hand as Dawn fumbled at the under wire of her new 38DD white bra. It was nipping some of the ample pale flesh of her huge knockers.
“So what did you find?” asked Julie impatiently.
“Ooh! Can’t tell you that. It’s our secret,” shrieked Janet before sipping her tea and dunking a chocolate digestive biscuit in the near boiling liquid.
“Janet, how can you do that?” moaned Dawn. “That’s disgusting.”
“Not as disgusting as what you did with that fella on the Biddesley road” Janet retorted. “Anyway Julie, it was like this...”
The white patrol car eased gently along the lane with the two female constables gazing intently all around. They had seen the speeding 4 x 4 SUV turn off the minor road they travelled, it’s wavering passage and pace suggesting drugs or booze. It was a damp misty night and Dawn had just groaned to Janet that they were already late back at the station to sign off the shift. Janet had retorted that if they hadn’t parked up in that side road and enjoyed a little play, they wouldn’t have been late. Promising each other a nice warm bath, some mutual massage and a sexy night in with the new double dildo, after a takeaway curry and some lagers, they felt obliged to check and apprehend the car driver.
“Look - lights Dawn,” muttered Janet pointing across some open scrub. “Still fucking shifting ... Shit!”
Her partner who was driving, slammed on the brakes as they saw the headlights shoot into the air, carving the mist, like wartime searchlights for seconds before they became shrouded amongst undergrowth and reduced to a glow. The two WPCs glanced at each other until Dawn gunned the police car to the junction and down the next lane. It was easy to find the crashed vehicle. The tail lights glowed brilliantly red.
Dawn carefully parked, put out a blue sign, both donned high visibility jackets, grabbed torches and made their way to the vehicle. They could see one headlight still working pointing across a ploughed field. The car’s engine had stopped, but the whole thing ticked with heat. They split up and walked round each side, picking their way over mangled branches and piles of earth torn up by the vehicle’s traverse through a hedge to end up wedged front end into a massive oak tree.
Steam, not the flames they all dreaded, filtered from the front, where the engine lid was fully open. Janet covered the passenger side and as she peered through the side screens, she saw no one was in the back. The forward side screen was smashed but the door was intact and she tried it. It swung open remarkably easy, the interior light flickering on and she gasped at the sight in front of her.
“Oh my God!” she remarked.
Dawn had to clamber over a large log to approach the other side of the 4 x 4 and heard Janet’s comment. Intending to open the driver’s door, she grasped it, gearing up for the mangled mess of human limbs and blood she expected to find and wrenched at it. It was stuck, but she placed her hefty size nine boot against the pillar and heaved again. It opened with a metallic graunching creak and she too gasped at the sight. She swiftly turned the car ignition off killing the head and rear lights. Her eyes then scanned beyond the shattered body of the young man, catching Janet’s wide eyed stare at the opposite side. Janet’s eyes were indicating that Dawn should look closer at what was in the passenger seat.
“What the fuck... ?’ Dawn grunted. “Wow! Er, check the pulse first Janet. Only two isn’t there”
Janet scanned the rear seat and confirmed a lack of rear passengers and then leaned in and grabbed the wrist of the young girl, which was all she could reach at the time. As she searched for a beat she took in the rest of the scene. Dawn reached for the neck of the man in the driving seat and waited, all the time gazing at the lower portion of the patently dead person.
“Zilch!” they both remarked almost in unison.
They grimaced in sadness tinged with inevitability.
‘Yeah! Bound to be with this impact and no seat belts thth,” tutted Dawn, glancing at the mashed head of the man that had impacted against the screen and then slid sideways onto the dash towards the door. The girl’s head was crushed against the dash and equally mashed.
“Young too,” said Janet. “Will they ever fucking learn?”
“They’ve obviously learned something,” chortled Dawn, with a dirty grunt, nodding downwards.
“Yes - up to it while driving too. Naughty ones,” added Janet. “Can’t blame him though.”
“What makes you say that?” asked Dawn as her eyes again slipped below.
“Well she is very attractive from where I’m standing,” giggled Janet, tracing her fingers over the warm exposed crotch of the female. “I mean you and I wouldn’t mind a piece of this beauty Dawn. And a gorgeous little bum”
Dawn watched her partner’s hand disappear over the twin hillocks of the dead girl’s buttocks which faced the passenger door and then turned her attention to her side.
“If you could see what I can Janet ... well maybe you wouldn’t appreciate as much but ... well this young fella was her dream come true alright, ‘ murmured Dawn, rimming the man’s knob end with her finger tip.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw as beautiful a piece of young tender pussy as this one ... er no offence darling,” Janet murmured to Dawn. “But you are thirty five.”
Dawn frowned across at her team mate and lover, but didn’t react. Janet was right.
‘Can you see her pussy?” she asked, getting a nod and a smile. ‘Got to have a look.”
Dawn scrambled round the vehicle, snagging her leg several times on sticks and thorns before joining Janet at the open passenger door. She gulped and stared for a few seconds before crouching nearer.
“Oh yes. See what you mean. They must have been having a mutual wank while driving, the stupid bastards. See where his hand is. How old you reckon she is?” Dawn asked, spotting that the man’s hand was trapped between the girl’s right thigh and the seat.
“Bit of a guess but if you look at the gear – no more than twenty,” answered Janet. “I mean she is slim, long legs...”
‘There’s a bag there. Must be some papers. Check it out,” suggested Dawn, her eyes fixed on the rear end of the girl, which was raised up in a kneeling position.
The girl’s crotch was open to view, originally in the doggy position, black lacy edged panties down her left leg caught up in the top of thigh length leather boots. Her right leg was jammed up on the seat, whilst the left one was down in the foot well. Dawn gazed at the girl’s exposed cunt with it’s light scattering of fair pubic hair curled round a slender slit which was obviously wet. Above was a neat gathering of fair haired wrinkles that puckered into the crevasse of her anus. Licking her lips, she touched the peachy twat gently, peering into the delicate folds that glistened with intimate moisture. Meanwhile Janet rifled through papers in the cheap leather handbag and found a Burton Perrins college ID.
“Gemma Jackson, born 15 April 1986. Fuck she’s only ... er! ... seve ... no sixteen. That’s right - sixteen and a half,” added Janet. “Pretty girl from the photograph.”
“Not any more,” grimaced Dawn glancing at the ID as she smelt her fingers. “Pretty pussy though. You were right and very ripe. Come and see what the fella is packing. We need to find out who he is.”
Reluctantly Janet followed her colleague to the other side and gulped at the scene from that side as Dawn felt in his jacket pocket. A wallet was found, containing several bank cards, business cards, various slips of paper, postage stamps, a bundle of cash and helpfully, a driving licence.
.... There is more of this story ...