Old Route 17 between Livingston Manor and Roscoe, New York runs along Catskill Park which is a New York State protected forestry area that is open to visitors all year round. It is a two lane roadway that was initially created by the farmers who travelled to buy seed and sell their crops at the farm markets in either town. Over the years it was upgraded from dirt to gravel to asphalt, but never widened or expanded, so it remained a two lane country road. Exactly half way between the two small country towns is a stretch of road the police and locals call 'The Trap'. The bend in the road and the straight away that followed made it a great spot for police vehicles to sit and clock the cars coming out of the curve. During the day drivers had no problem negotiating the curve, but after dark it became much more treacherous. The younger drivers waited for nightfall to test their driving abilities. Entering the curve at a somewhat reduced rate of speed, but still faster than the posted speed limit as they hit the apex of the curve, flooring the accelerator, and exiting onto the straightaway usually somewhere around sixty to one hundred miles an hour. The posted speed limit entering the curve is thirty-five miles an hour and upon exiting it rises to forty-five miles an hour. Based upon New York Vehicular Law, a driver clocked at seventy miles an hour receiving a speeding ticket is faced a fine of one hundred and fifty dollars and four points on his or her license. Being ticketed for exceeding one hundred miles an hour was loss of license, fine of one thousand dollars, and a doubling of insurance rates for the owner of the vehicle.
The Livingston Manor and Roscoe city councils decided in the early 1960's to combine their small police departments to save money on police cars, insurance, and employees. The city councils also decided to use 'The Trap' to increase their revenues by increasing the number of speeding tickets issued on a weekly basis. The only negative was the number of fatal accidents caused by drunken teenagers trying to drive as if they were in the Daytona 500. The Livingston Manor — Roscoe Police Department, lovingly called LMRPD, consists of a Chief-of-Police, one Sergeant, four patrolmen, a secretary, and a dispatcher. When they needed or required help the New York State Troopers were not far from their patrol area as they covered the new Route 17 which basically replaced Old Route 17 as the main thoroughfare through the area.
Patrolman Mark Johnston preferred to work the four to midnight shifts, but this week due to the department's inability to get a part time patrolman to cover a patrolman's vacation time, he was working the hated midnight to eight graveyard shift. Being the youngest and the only single man in the department, he knew he had no excuse that would pass muster with his superiors. Working midnights meant he could spend some time sitting by 'The Trap' to see if he could increase his quota of issued speeding tickets. Mark knew the best time to sit at 'The Trap' was between midnight and 5:00AM which is closing time for the local taverns. As much as he hated the assholes that drove drunk, they were still game for his pulling them over, giving them multiple citations, and increasing the money in both towns cash-on-hand bank account.
The earlier hours of his shift was broken up by two domestic disputes which didn't take him all that long to settle down. The first couple was known to him and all he had to do was take the drunken husband by the throat and threaten him that if he didn't calm down he'd have Mark's truncheon shoved up his ass. That usually was enough for the drunk to begin crying and stop harassing his also very drunk wife. The second call involved a younger newlywed couple who were arguing over who had to take the garbage down the lane to put it out for the sanitation truck the next morning. Mike was absolutely taken with the young wife, but couldn't believe the two were arguing about who was going to take the two garbage cans down the lane. He settled the argument by making each of them take a can together to the end of the lane that lead to their cottage. Thankfully each of them listened to him and did not make a fuss over his rather simple solution to their idiotic dispute.
At precisely 2:00AM, Mark parked his Ford Crown Victoria in the little cove that hid the car from the on-coming traffic as it exited 'The Turn', but allowed the rear window mounted radar detector enough room to track the vehicles exiting the curve. The radar gun took a few moments to setup and calibrate. Now all he had to do was sit and wait for the first jerk to come out of the curve exceeding the speed limit. To keep himself awake, he idly scratched his balls and read the newest edition of Penthouse Letters. Mark Johnson, at the tender age of 23, was a total sexual pervert. His parents, brothers, and sister knew nothing of his constant need for sexual satisfaction. Luckily for him, he is a tall, good looking, young-adult, who has no problems meeting women, and ending up having his manhood shoved balls deep into their wide open accepting pussies. Sitting alone in his police cruiser did nothing to help him keep his sexual needs under control. He thought about masturbating, but thought better of it because it would be his luck to have one of his bosses walk up just as his cock exploded spurting his usually large amount of spew all over his stomach and chest.
He tried to keep from looking at his watch every three to four minutes so the time wouldn't pass as slow as he thought it was. Just as he looked up from his watch for the umpteenth time, he saw the headlights of a car coming around the curve. Mark kept an eye on the remote led output from the radar gun that was hanging on the outside rear window of his patrol car. As the car rounded the curve, the speed of the oncoming car increased. He watched as the led figures jumped from 50 to 60 to 75 miles an hour. He had his first speeder for the night. Easing the shift into drive, he stepped on the accelerator as he flipped the switches for the roof lights and siren. In a matter of moments he was behind the speeding car using the siren button to make enough noise to get the attention of the driver of the Toyota Camry.
Susan Constance Smith, thirty-five, married, and a mother of three was the driver of the car Patrolman Johnston had just pulled over. The car was stopped and sat partially on the roadway because there was no space on either side of the road to legally park or stop an automobile. Mark took down the license number of the vehicle and keyed it into the laptop computer. The program he was using would do a search on the license plate number and return the owner's name, make and model, and any wants and warrants against the owner or registration. As he waited for a response from the software he could see the driver running her hands over her long auburn hair. The report came back clean, but he did have her for doing seventy-five in a forty-five mile an hour zone.
Stepping out of his vehicle with his right hand resting on the butt of his Glock 19, Mark Johnston approached the driver's side of the Toyota Camry that was sitting idling on the side of the road. As he approached, he saw the driver lower her window and heard her begin to plead with him not to give her a ticket.
"License, registration, and insurance card please" stated Mark. "Do you have any idea as to why I pulled you over Miss?"
Susan Smith didn't even think to have the documents for him prior to his arrival at the driver's side of her car. She fumbled in her pocketbook for her license and wondered out loud where in the world she would find the registration and insurance card. As she sat there bewildered, she realized that she should look in the glove compartment where she found the two documents in the folder that was there for their safekeeping. Susan retrieved them, turned to hand them to the patrolman when she noticed the smile on his face as he peered into her car.
"Here are my license, registration, and insurance card. Officer, please, I don't know why you pulled me over," she said.
Mark looked at the name on the license and responded, "Ms. Smith, I clocked you coming out of the curve on Old Route 17 at seventy-five miles an hour. That is thirty miles over the speed limit. Are you in a rush to get somewhere?"
Susan Smith put her hands over her face and began to cry. Mark had seen this game performed by many a woman trying to get herself out of a ticket. Calming herself down, she said, "I was just coming from a friend's house and I wanted to get home because I told my husband I would be home before midnight."
Mark noticed she was wearing a thin halter top that did not make it to the top of the very short black leather mini-skirt she was wearing. He also noticed she was not wearing any stockings. The halter top did not make any attempt to hide her voluptuous breasts as he could see down between them. He could feel a stirring in his loins as he gazed upon her breasts, naked flat stomach, and thin legs that emanated from the black mini-skirt. Mark stepped away from the driver's side door and spoke, "Please turn off your car and exit the vehicle."
Susan was astounded, "Why??? I didn't do anything wrong!!!"
Mark with an edge to his voice, responded, "Ms. Smith, please turn off the vehicle and exit the car. Now!!!"
Susan saw the patrolman had placed his right hand back on the butt of his gun. It was still encased in the black holster, but she could see that he was not in any mood for shenanigans. She turned the car off, opened the door, and exited the vehicle. As she stood next to her car with the headlights from the patrol car illuminating the two of them, she gasped to herself at the sight of the young, good looking, patrolman standing in front of her. She looked directly into his eyes and without meaning to she swayed in obvious attraction to him.
Mark watched as she stood there waiting for his next command. In his two short years on the job, it never crossed his mind to use his good looks and his under-the-radar sexual perversion during a traffic stop as a means of empowerment. As she swooned, he felt his cock begin to harden behind his uniform pants. "Ms. Smith, please walk to the back of your car and face the trunk."
Susan looked at him wondering why he was asking her to do that. She said, "Please officer, I need to get home. My husband is going to wonder what happened to me." Susan stood at the back of her car waiting for an answer.
Mark could see she was wearing a pair of black leather sandals with heels that had to be six inches in height. Ms. Susan Smith was dressed like the proverbial slut. He stepped up behind her and gently pushed her forward so her hands were resting on the trunk of her car. "I'm going to search the interior of your car. You are to stay exactly as you are. One move and I will handcuff you and place you in the back seat of my cruiser. Do you understand me?"
Susan was beginning to shake not from fear of any physical abuse, but from the possibility of the patrolman finding the small amount of marijuana and cocaine that was stashed in the center console of her car. "Yes, sir, but please, please, let me go home. If I was speeding I'm sorry and I'll never do it again. Just give me the ticket and let me be on my way."
Mark could see the fear in Susan's eyes as he returned to begin his search of her car. He was hoping to find her panties in her pocketbook, but instead found what she hoped he wouldn't. In the center console of her vehicle he uncovered a nice sized bag of marijuana and a larger than usual vile that contained at least a gram-and-a-half of brown cocaine. Holding the two illegal substances in his left hand he approached the now crying woman.
"Ms. Smith, you are busted. I found marijuana and cocaine in the center console of your car." He lied, "The quantity you're possessing is a Class A felony in this state. You could do at least ten to fifteen years in a women's maximum security prison. Why in God's name are you carrying illegal drugs when you're speeding home? Give me a good reason not to lock your ass up and throw away the key!!!"
"Oh, God!!!" she cried. "I'm so busted. I'm not coming from a girl friend's house. I'm coming from my lover's where I just spent the night cheating on my husband. Look at the way I'm dressed!!! I wanted to get home and change before my husband could see me. Please, officer, I'll do anything, ANYTHING, just don't arrest me!!!"
Mark put the contraband items on the lid of trunk of Susan's car. He stepped behind her and placed his left hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her forward. Using his right foot he forced her legs apart. While keeping his left hand on her back he lowered the zipper to his uniform pants. As he was thinking about what he was going to do, he realized that she could be standing in front of him filled with the cum of her lover and he was not into sloppy seconds. Susan Smith felt something going on behind her and then she sensed it suddenly coming to a stop.
Susan realized that the patrolman was planning on fucking her but she felt that if she let him she'd never be able to get him to stop using her for his carnal pleasure. If she tried to stop him, she knew he'd simply step back and handcuff her. She'd have to call her husband and tell him she'd been arrested for possession of illegal drugs. She thought that the best resolution to her problem was to see if she could get away with a minimal sexual encounter. A hand job or a blow job should satisfy the patrolman's need to use her in response to her saying she'd do anything to keep from being arrested.
Susan spoke in a whiney voice before Mark could say anything, "Officer, listen to me. Please!!! I told you I'd do anything you want and I mean it, but I don't think you want to put your bare cock into a pussy that is filled with another man's cum. Just let me turn around and give you a great hand job."
Mark laughed and replied, "A fuckin' hand job for a Class A felony!!! You got to be kiddin' me lady. You're correct when you say I'm not into sloppy seconds. So I'm going to step back and you're going to turn around. You're going to get on your knees, fish my cock out of my pants, and suck me liked you've never sucked a cock before. Failure to provide what I need now will only force me to arrest you. And, don't think that a blow job is going to settle your account with me. You, dear slut, were bringing a cunt full of cum back to your husband to either eat or feel around what you consider his useless cock as he fucks you and you tell him about how many times your lover deposited his essence in your whore hole. Don't even fuckin' try to deny it, lady!"
Susan Smith turned around to see Mark standing about a foot-and-a-half away from the rear of her car. She could see the zipper to his blue uniform pants was open. He stood with his legs slightly apart, his right hand on the butt of his gun, and with his other he pointed in front of him. Susan looked into his eyes and could see he wasn't one to trifle with. She stepped forward, knelt down on the hard asphalt surface, and reached into the patrolman's pants with her right hand. She found the opening to his boxer shorts and felt the base of what she thought was going to be a rather large cock. Susan moved her hand deeper in between the officer's legs and found what she was searching for. She put her hand around it and pulled what appeared to be a ten inch cock from between the officer's legs.
"Oh, my. I didn't think you were packing such a wonderfully large male appendage," chortled Susan. Her eyes moved from the cock that was now hanging out of the officer's pants to his and back again. She made a point of obnoxiously licking her lips in anticipation of taking his mammoth cock into her mouth. Then she realized that if another car came around the curve and down the road the driver and/or the passenger would get an eyeful of her sucking the officer's cock. She thought to herself that may not be a bad thing but she felt herself getting quite wet thinking about how nice it would be to have that thick piece of man meat pounding her thirty-five year old pussy.
Mark saw her hesitation and wondered if he was too big for her. "So, lady, never seen a cock that big before?"
Susan looked up at him, her eyes twinkling, chuckled, and said, "You are bigger than my present lover, but I've had bigger cocks. What is bothering me concerns a car coming up on us as I'm kneeling with your manhood sliding in and out of my mouth. I don't know how a driver would react to seeing a rather imposing officer-of-the-law pumping his rampant cock into some poor woman's mouth on the side of this rather narrow roadway. Why don't we go someplace where we can both be comfortable? Then I can fellate you with the confidence that we won't get caught and you'll enjoy the mouth of a woman who just loves to give head."
Mark realized that she was right in her assumption. Without putting his cock back into his uniform pants, he moved to the passenger side of his vehicle and opened the door. He pointed and said, "Get in. Try any shenanigans and I'll make sure you'll spend a good long time as a carpet muncher to some overweight convict in a woman's prison." Susan rose from her kneeling position, taking a second to wipe off the gravel that was on her knees, and made her way into the rear seat of the police cruiser. Mark got in next to her. He reached for the back of her head and pushed it down to his flaccid cock. "Suck me," was all he said.
Susan Smith did not complain or comment about how the officer pushed her head down to his exposed but flaccid cock. She reached with her right hand to lift the cock she was about to suck to a position so she could place her ruby red lips around its circumcised head. She could feel the shaft thicken in anticipation of her mouth beginning to caress the perfectly shaped helmet that formed the head of Mark's cock. Being the slut she was, Susan opened her mouth and greedily sucked the officer's cock into her mouth. Not needing to prepare herself for the length and width of Mark's manhood, she slipped his cock to the back of her mouth as she began to stroke the length of the shaft that was not inside her oral cavity. Her only disappointment came when she unconsciously went to massage his balls only to be stopped by the cotton fabric of his uniform pants. She had totally forgotten that his cock was only presented to her through the zipper opening.
Mark felt the woman's lips slid over the sensitive head of his cock and in response he moved ever so slightly forward giving her easier access to his hardening penis. He totally forgot he was on duty as he began to press Susan's head to get her to take more of his ten inches into her mouth and throat. Susan didn't fight the pressure on her head. She just relaxed her throat and allowed Mark's thick cock to slide down her oral pussy. Once he felt his cock slide past her gag point and into her throat, Mark knew he had a winner, so he took control of her head and began to use it to masturbate his cock. Susan didn't resist his taking control of her act of fellatio. She was used to having men force their cocks down her throat. Her only worry was if her nose was going to get an abrasion on it from hitting the metal zipper of his uniform pants.
Mark knew he didn't have the luxury of time so he took Susan by her head and held it as he raised and lowered his hips as if he was fucking her vaginally. He could feel the smooth slick mucous lining of her throat surround his hard cock. He loved that she didn't fight his use of her mouth as a fuck tool. He started to thrust and knew that he was going to blast off in a few more strokes. Susan could feel the shaft of the cock that was sliding into and out of her throat begin to thicken against her tongue. When he slid the head out of her throat and forced it back down she knew from its feel he was going to spew his ejaculate directly into her stomach.
Mark pushed one last time. Susan's face was against his crotch. He exploded. Susan felt his cock pulse four times before he released her head and allowed her to slide his still hard and pulsating cock from deep within her throat. She couldn't believe how much cum he was shooting. As she held his cock in the cavity of her mouth, four more voluminous ropes of cum filled it. She swallowed trying to keep up with his load, but she failed and some of his cum dribbled out of her mouth and onto his pants. When he finished shooting off into Susan's mouth Mark pulled his cock out and retrieved his handkerchief from his left rear pocket, which he used to wipe her saliva and the remaining cum from his cock. Susan sat up and used the back of her hand to wipe the saliva and cum from her chin. To make a point to Mark, she licked the back of her hand clean showing him just what a total slut she really was and will continue to be in the future.
"First, I have to commend you on your cock sucking abilities. Second, you're not off the hook. Third, I'll tell you when you're free of my intention to arrest you. I will make a point of checking up on you as much as possible. The evidence I have will not disappear and I will protect the fact that your fingerprints are all over the baggy and vial. I intend to get that pussy when it is not full of another man's cum. And don't think I'm not going to slide this ten inch monster into your sweet ass. Susan Constance Smith, you are indebted to me for as long as I deem for not arresting you tonight."
Susan looked at him, shivered, and responded, "I can see from your name plate your surname is Johnston. I just let you fuck my mouth with what I consider to be a very nice male appendage. I am willing to let you fuck me anytime you want. My three orifices are yours for the taking. Please, don't hold the amount of illegal drugs you uncovered in my vehicle over my head. I'd gladly give you want you want anytime you want. Just give me enough advance notice."
Mark thought for a moment and replied, "I'm willing to release you from your potential arrest when I've had you enough times that you're just begging me to fuck you. I also want to become the man that fucks you in front of your husband, because I think you just like to fuck around behind his back. If you want to be a slut, then be honest with him and let him see what he isn't giving you. Deal or no deal?"
Susan replied, "If I say no deal?"
Mark smiled and said, "I'll just handcuff you now and take you to jail. It will be my word against yours about what just happened in the backseat of this vehicle."
Susan groaned. She could see that he was not going to release her even if she complied. Her crying when she was pulled over did not work either. She felt her goose was cooked. She never fucked another man in front of her husband. She knew he had an idea that she was fucking other men better endowed than he was, but she never rubbed his face in it. She sighed and agreed to become his slut.
"Now, Susan, exit my vehicle, get into yours, buckle up, and drive home safely. I know where you live and I'll be in touch."
Susan Smith did not look back. She quickly walked to her car, opened the driver side door, entered the vehicle, started it, and drove away thankful that she wasn't handcuffed and on her way to jail. Mark Johnston returned to the front seat of his vehicle and found his little black book where he entered entirely from memory Susan's full name, address, and telephone number which had appeared on his laptop screen when he acquired the automobile's registration data. He started his patrol car, performed a U-turn, and returned to the cove where hopefully another speeder would break up his time on the graveyard shift.
Time passed slowly for Mark. Except for Susan's speeding no one passed his spot exceeding the speed limit that is until a red Corvette Z06 passed him doing well over one hundred at 4:00AM. He took off after the Corvette with lights and sirens. The driver of the Corvette did not stop until Mark pulled alongside of him and gently made a move to push the car off the road. When they came to a stop the Corvette was half on the pavement and half on the gravel while Mark's cruiser was caddy corner across the front to the Corvette blocking the possibility of a forward escape.
Mark jumped out of his vehicle, un-holstered his Glock, pointed it at the driver of the Corvette, and yelled, "Let me see you hands!!! Don't try anything silly!!! Turn off the car, toss the keys out the window, and let me see your hands."
The driver of the Corvette almost pissed his pants when he saw the working end of a Glock 19 pointed at him. His passenger began to wail and cry as she raised her hands against the roof of the Corvette. The driver screamed, "Officer, I have to put the car in reverse before I turn it off or it won't start without someone from Chevrolet coming out here or it being towed to the dealership. Please, holster your gun. I'm going to listen to you. Please!!!"
Mark didn't holster his weapon he screamed back, "Do what you need to do quickly. I want to see the keys fly out the window in less than ten seconds or you're going to be ripped out of that vehicle. Now do it!!!"
The driver fumbled to get the gear shift lever into reverse and when he did he turn off the ignition and tossed the keys out of the driver's side window. Meanwhile, his female passenger continued to have a panic attack as she kept her hands on the interior roof of the Corvette. The driver placed his hands outside the window and reached for the door handle to open the door. He pushed the door open and exited the vehicle. Mark kept the working end of his Glock 19 pointed at the driver. He was not going to give an inch to this crazy bastard who he clocked coming out of the curve at one hundred and six miles an hour.
"Keep your hands where I can see them and move to the back of the vehicle. Then put your hands palms down on the rear deck. Do it now!!!" yelled Mark. He watched as the driver made it to the rear of the Corvette and assumed the position he was told to. Mark then turned his attention to the passenger. He pointed his weapon at the passenger side of the front windshield and yelled, ""Passenger, open the door and get out of the vehicle."
The passenger continued to cry and gasp for breath. She didn't respond to Mark's commands. He had to make a decision before the female did something stupid or collapsed from the panic attack that was consuming her. He holstered his weapon and walked around to the passenger side of the Corvette and opened the door. He looked at the driver and thanked him with his eyes that he was smart enough to unlock both doors before he exited the vehicle. When he looked inside the Corvette he saw the still frightened girl keeping her hands on the interior roof of the car. Mark reached in and gently touched what appeared to be an eighteen to twenty year old female. The girl screamed even louder when she felt Mark's hand on her shoulder. He turned to the driver and asked, "What is her name?"
The driver responded, "Yvette Montrose."
Mark said to the driver, "You move one inch from where you are and I promise you'll have a 9mm between your eyes quicker than you can say Jackie Robinson." Mark didn't wait for a response. He knelt down and quietly spoke to the still crazed passenger. "Yvette. It's ok now. You can put your hands down. Take a deep breath and hold it. Just try to relax. Yvette, look at me. I'm not going to hurt you."
Yvette Montrose, eighteen, a high school senior, never had the occasion or reason to have a gun pointed at her. She heard the officer speaking to her and turned to look at him. She saw him looking back at her not in anger but with what could only be considered a look of concern. Yvette put her hands down and using all of her inner might got herself under control. She turned and began to exit the Corvette. Mark offered her his hand and she took it. Her long, thin fingers felt his strong manly fingers take a grip and gently help her exit the vehicle. Mark stood and was immediately taken with the small extremely thin teenager that stood before him. He didn't release her hand but guided her to the rear passenger side of the Corvette where he told her to stand but not next to the driver.