"Dick?" Captain Frank Wayne smiled at the man sitting across from him. "Dick's a superstar. The best of the best and if I had a dozen more like him this state wouldn't need anyone else."
"Is that so?"
The man was taking notes, so Frank decided he hadn't made his point plain. "Best goddamn trooper in the country. Hell, every other month some agency is trying to steal him away. He's got six medals for bravery. Six! And every one of 'em earned too. He doesn't have any rich uncles in Olympia." Frank would have spat right then if he'd been outside, or at least in someone else's office.
"You don't see. The man does a thousand hours of community service every year. He shoots a possible every time he steps on the range. A possible! Perfect! Every goddamn time with either hand. He's got more felony arrests than any two officers you can name. And the guys he busts? They thank him for it! He appears in court every single time and if the bad guy ain't so bad, Dick stands up for 'em! He brings out the good in people, you understand me?"
"Who'd you say you were with?"
"The Secret Service," the man said, looking up. "When do you think I could meet your trooper, Captain?"
"I'll set up a meeting, but he's gonna say no," Frank said. He sat back and smiled smugly. "See, the only thing old Dick loves more than his job is his family. He's got a wife and kid, a little girl, and they like it out here. Dick would give up everything for them. Yes sir, Dick's the best trooper in the great state of Washington, but he's also the best damn family man anybody ever heard of. A fine husband and a real father. They just don't make a whole lot of those anymore."
Right then, quite unaware of his commander's unstinting praise, Dick sat in his cruiser on a gravel pullout that connected the north and south bound lanes of I-5 about 15 miles south of Bellingham. It was a good spot, hidden by trees from the north and the south had a curve that always caught the maniacs by surprise.
Dick looked at his watch, even though his dashboard clock worked just fine. His watch though, that had been a gift from his wife and looking at it always made the trooper feel like she was with him. It got pretty lonely out on the road alone.
He'd lined up for the southbound traffic, the people on their way to Seattle mostly. Coming home after a day up in Vancouver spending American dollars on Canadian price tags, but that wasn't quite the big bargain it had been in previous years. Still, Dick pondered, the economy was tight and every little bit helped. He gave the civilians, which was anything non-commercial, a good 12 miles over the limit. Usually about 8 was the norm, but when the weather was good Dick tended to be a little generous on the south bounders; it was all downhill after all.
Buses and trucks generally got a little more regardless of what direction they were going, because they had deadlines and driving was their business. A lot of cops liked grabbing those guys anyway, so Dick figured he might be evening the curve a little. That didn't mean reckless though, or stupid, which was pretty much the same thing in his book. A trucker that didn't respect the coastal Washington weather, the rain and fog and even black ice they sometimes got, well, he'd have to find a new line of work. He was fair, but firm had its good points too and the smart drivers, the professionals, they respected that.
They respected Dick.
And just about 12:30 in the PM, Dick heard his little alarm beeping. He frowned at the radar as the numbers on the top flashed 86 and the numbers on the bottom flicked back and forth in the low eighties. Then they hit 87 and the top number switched to 87 too ... It always remembered the highest speed recorded ... And there it was, a bright red Volkswagen, one of those UFO designed ones with the little flower vase on the dash, flashing by without a care in the world. The numbers were dropping, as they always did when someone spotted him, but it was too late.
Dick turned the ignition and put his car in gear, checking traffic carefully before pulling onto the shoulder and accelerating quickly onto the pavement. The big Crown Victoria had a serious engine and the department kept it finely tuned. In no time at all he'd closed in on the little Bug, now coasting along at the posted 65mph speed limit. Dick sidled his car a hundred yards behind the vehicle and hit his rollers. He didn't expect the driver to go jackrabbit on him, but one never knew; he unconsciously double checked his seatbelt.
No, not this time. The red VW pulled over meekly, even using its turn signal. The perfect driver all of a sudden and Dick smiled as he pulled up behind it, angling his car slightly with all the lights on just so he'd have some protection out there. At least traffic was light. More troopers got injured by third party autos than anything else and Dick never forgot that.
He fixed the little camera on his dash onto the car in front of him, pursing his lips as the red LED on top of the thing went dark. There must have been a loose wire in there someplace and Dick had reported it a couple times over the last few months, but somehow it never got fixed. Well, it worked 90% of the time anyway, except when he turned it just a certain way. He admonished himself mentally to make a note of it in his log and went to work punching the tags into his Statewide Identification System, the computerized SIDS that told him a few seconds later everything he needed to know about the VW in front of him.
He checked his hat in the mirror and picked up his ticket book. He stepped out of the car and unlatched the strap of leather over his pistol, a heavy Sig Sauer 9mm, and rested his hand on it lightly. The car was registered to one Richard Cormier, no wants, no warrants, so no real reason to be nervous, right? One never knew, he thought, and the trooper kept his hand right where it was.
"Ma'am?" He tapped his ticket book lightly against the driver's window.
She'd turned out to be young and blonde and Dick thought maybe he should give her a ticket for public indecency. She wore a black leather skirt that couldn't cover much more than her lace white panties did, and Dick knew she was wearing lace white panties because he could see them. He could see the swell of her tender young breasts as well, straining braless against the almost transparent blouse clinging to her slender shoulders. It was light blue and made out of sheer nylon apparently, or maybe silk, because it showed off her pink bubblegum nipples perfectly.
The young woman had a beautiful face and Dick wondered if she wasn't Miss Teen Washington, for there seemed to be a certain resemblance. She had bright blue eyes, big and friendly and shining up into his face. Her nose was smallish and pert and her pouting mouth seemed the perfect size for her heart-shaped face. She wore a little makeup, but not much. Just some lipstick, pink like her nipples, and some eye shadow, just a touch. She must have been about the most beautiful young woman the trooper had ever seen.
"Yes, Officer?" she said after she'd rolled her window down. "What's wrong?"
"Would you turn off the engine please and I'd like to see your driver's license, registration, and proof of insurance, ma'am." Dick licked his lips as he felt his manhood hardening in his trousers. A natural reaction to be sure, but he didn't think it very professional and tried to resist his instinctual arousal.
"What? Why? What did I do?" the girl asked as she turned off the engine and started digging through her glove compartment and purse.
"You were speeding, ma'am." Dick had to clear his throat as she leaned over, exposing the lace of her thong and the wondrously shaped golden globe of her creamy derriere, which was the word that popped into his head right then. "Uh, 87 miles per hour. The speed limit is 65, uh ... ma'am."
"Here you go," she said happily, which wasn't the usual reaction a state trooper got. She looked up, smiling into Dick's face and spread her long smooth legs a bit wider.
"Thank you, ma'am." He could feel his cheeks reddening slightly. "I'll, uh ... I'll be back in a moment. Please remain in your vehicle."
Dick walked stiffly back to his cruiser, feeling his penis almost painfully hard in his trousers. He slipped behind the steering wheel awkwardly and looked through the girl's paperwork. "Melissa Cormier..." he said to himself softly. "Age 16 and living in Seattle."
He checked her birthday and the date of issue; she'd only had her license about five months. Dick clucked his tongue. That wasn't nearly enough experience to be driving alone from Seattle to Vancouver and back. She'd need a good talking to when she got home, he figured, maybe a spanking too just for dressing like that. But not too hard, the trooper caught himself with a chuckle, dismissing the image that had just popped into his head.
It was obvious what young Melissa had been trying to do, spreading her legs, leaning over much too far for that little car, smiling the way she had. Oh yes, state troopers got a lot of offers out on the road. Most of them from women you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Once in awhile though ... But Dick didn't go for that. He had a wife and a family, and he loved them more than anything else in the world. A slice of pie at the roadside diner, trooper talk for having sex on the job, wasn't something that he could rightly condone. The appetite was there as evidenced by the hardness of his prick, but he was on the love diet.
.... There is more of this story ...