It's late at night, and I see you drift in and out of your lane, so I pull you over. I walk to the side of your car and look you over. I think to my self, 'woman driver, typical.' I also take a moment to look down your top, your cleavage easily visible from where I am standing. "Ma'am, I'm going to need to you to breathe into this."

I watch as you meekly wrap your lips around the breathalyzer, and get hard thinking about how nice you would look sucking my cock. I check the reading, and you're just barely under the blood alcohol level to justify me arresting you, not that I tell you that. "Ma'am, can you call your boyfriend to pick you up?"

And that's when you make a mistake. "Uh, my girlfriend is in another state, so, no."

I resist the urge to smile. I won't be playing with some other guy's girl, so I can have some fun. "Get out of the car, ma'am, I'm going to need you to perform some field sobriety tests."

I take a step back and watch you climb out of your car. You stand up and cross your arms over your chest in the cool night air. Your face is a little indignant, but with an uncertain edge that lets me know you won't actually resist me. "Do jumping jacks."

You frown. "How many?" I reply, "Until I tell you to stop."

This is not what you wanted to hear, but you comply anyways. I watch you jump and jiggle, and make a mental note to buy a bottle of whiskey for my buddy who doctors my bodycam footage. Especially when your tits start bouncing out of your top. You stop, covering your chest with embarrassment, trying to tuck them in without giving me more of a show than you already have. I'm having none of that. "Keep jumping, ma'am."

I can see the realization in your face, that this isn't really a sobriety test. And yet, you have no choice but to obey. You blush deeply, humiliated as you resume doing jumping jacks, your tits bouncing in the open. I watch for a few more minutes, a smile growing on my face. Now we both know where this is going.

"Stop. Put your hands on the hood of your car."

You don't even bother putting your boobs back in your blouse, you just get into position and let them dangle. I fulfill your expectations, standing behind you and reaching around to grope your breasts. I smirk as I see you squirm under my touch. After just a little fondling and squeezing, I feel your nipples harden. I make casual conversation as I pinch them. "How long have you been with your girlfriend?"

You swallow thickly, trying not to cry, trying not to think about how nice it feels to have someone play with your tits. "Three years now."

I hum as I mash your tits in my hands. "Ever had a boyfriend?"

You shiver. "N-no, I knew I was a lesbian since I was 13." You bite your lip to keep from yelping as I undo your shorts and pull them down with your panties. Alone at night with me, you tremble to know that I can see your pussy... and how wet it is. You reluctantly step out of your clothes, and my hands push your legs into a wider stance. I smirk at how docile you are. I lean down to get a good look at your slit and spread it open with my fingers. I had worried that I'd have to play with you some more to get you wet enough to fuck, but I'm in luck. You're a slut.

I unzip my pants and take out my cock. It feels the cool air of the night for a brief moment before plowing into your folds, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into you. I groan, enjoying your tight little lesbian pussy. Your resulting whimper just gets me harder, and I grab your hips and work my length in and out. Before long you are panting and moaning, your tits swaying with each thrust. You keep telling yourself that you're not cheating on your girlfriend, this isn't your fault, even if it feels so good.

My hands start to wander your body, reaching up to grasp your tit, running over your slightly pudgy belly, dipping between your thighs to rub your clit. You're just so soft and round that I can't help but squeeze your every curve as I fuck your slutty hole. "How do you like your first time actually having sex?"

Any other time, you would be upset at the implication that lesbian sex isn't real sex, but feeling my cock ream your pussy, the way my balls brush against your clit, the strength of my grip as I paw at your body... You've never felt like this before. You whine in humiliation and arousal, unwilling to tell me just how good it feels to be fucked by a man. But from the way your walls writhe around and milk my shaft, I know what you refuse to say. You don't realize what's coming when I start thrusting faster, your mind is a haze of pleasure, guilt, and fear. Then you feel me push deep and hold, twitching inside you. The warmth that blooms in your belly is a shock. You never knew semen was that hot... or how much having me cum inside you turns you on. It's only when I pull out that you realize that you haven't had your orgasm. You try to salvage your pride, telling yourself that you are a lesbian, so of course you won't cum from getting raped by a man. Even though it felt so, so good.

"Ma'am, you can get back in your car. I'll follow you to make sure you get home safely."

You stare at me for a long moment as I get into my patrol car like nothing happened. You know exactly what will happen when I get you home. And your pussy throbs, aching for what is to come.