Lesbian MILF Seductress: Cop
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Summary: 19-year-old woman seduces and dominates an ice queen cop.
Note 1: Thanks to Bad Steve for the original idea and Jedd for the additional plot suggestions that finally got this story written.
Note 2: In 2015, thanks to Robert, goamz86 and Karl for editing this story. In early 2019, thanks to Tex Beethoven for helping me add a fresh coat of polish.
Note 3: This story stands on its own, but if you want to read more BREE stories, check out the following (listed in chronological, not date published, order):
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Pre-MILF (in Bree’s senior year of high school)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Mom (late in her senior year)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Neighbor (late in her senior year)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Chocolate (immediately following Neighbor)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Bakery (a couple weeks after Neighbor & Chocolate)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: 30th B’day (late summer, last weekend before her beginning college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Secret Santa (during her first year of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Nurse (during her first and third year of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Cop (summer after her first year of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Pop Star (summer between sophomore and junior years of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Church Mom (immediately after Pop Star)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Spa (during the beginning of her junior year)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Bride (End of third year of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: In Flight (summer job after college)
*****
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Cop
I pulled over the Corvette for going 50 in a 35-mph zone. It was the last hour of my shift and I was already tired and rather bitchy.
I reached the car and was surprised when the woman in the driver’s seat was only a teenager; I sighed to myself, just knowing this had to be another pretentious, privileged rich kid. The second surprise came when I bent down to see who else was in the car. In the passenger seat was a woman probably in her forties, her skirt hiked up, fucking herself with an old-fashioned pop bottle. The woman kept her head down, either ashamed to be caught in such a compromising pursuit, or so into her own pleasure she was oblivious to my presence.
I cleared my throat to get her attention, but she didn’t even slow down as she was really pumping the bottle in and out of her cunt, her moans communicating to me that she was nearing orgasm.
The young blonde driver explained, as one adult to another, although I doubted she even was one, “Sorry, officer, my pet is being punished for not listening properly.”
I stammered, shocked by her words, “P-p-pardon?”
“She’s still a submissive in training, and sometimes she thinks she has some say in our…” she paused, looking for the right word, “…activities.”
“Ma’am, would you please stop doing that?” I requested. I’d seen many strange things in my fifteen years on the force, including many girls giving men head, a couple of guys giving other guys head, a few backseat rendezvous, and once a woman bound in the back seat on her way to a BDSM party. (After her… keepers?… had removed her ball gag, she’d managed to convince me there was nothing wrong, she was having the time of her life.) But this was a new one. The boys at the precinct were going to love this story.
The woman ignored me and her moans kept increasing.
The young woman, whose crystal blue eyes drew me in, explained, “She only answers to me, officer.”
“Then could you request her to stop?” I asked, the question absurd, considering I was the police officer here.
“Sure, officer, since you asked so nicely and you’re so cute,” she smiled, her tone flirtatious and confident. I’d been hit on by many women over the years, but I wasn’t a lesbian, and the ploy had seldom if ever worked to get someone out of a ticket. The young woman snapped her fingers, and immediately the other women stopped, the bottle still deep inside her, her breathing erratic.
I was distracted. I was still stunned by what I was witnessing, and was also curious about the power this young woman had over the older, business dressed, attractive woman.
I asked, “Could you ask her to take the bottle out?”
“Out where? Do you mean on a date?” The young woman grinned, clearly having fun with the situation.
“Out of her vagina,” I said, trying to maintain my professionalism.
“Oh dear, officer, my slut doesn’t even have a vagina, do you slut?” she responded.
The older woman, still not making eye contact with anyone replied, “No, Mistress. I’m a slut, so I have a cunt.”
“Or?” The young woman questioned.
“A pussy, a slut box, a twat…” the older woman added.
“Okay,” I said firmly. “Young lady, will you kindly have your… person… remove the bottle from her… Esenyurt Escort her… whatever you want to call it?” My growing exasperation had led me into an attempt at formality, but the situation was presenting a few stumbling blocks to my… umm… semantics.
“Take it out slut, and don’t forget to clean the cunt juice off your fake cock,” the young lady ordered, in language probably not suitable for an audience with the Queen.
Immediately, the older woman pulled the bottle out of her vagina (or whatever) and put the long bottleneck in her mouth.
I gasped.
“Sorry, officer, she’s still learning, but she’ll eventually make a very good submissive yet,” the young woman apologized, acting embarrassed by the older woman’s ineptitude at sucking a bottle properly. What the hell would properly look like?
“License and registration, ma’am,” I asked, unable not to watch the sexual train wreck happening in right front of me.
“Ma’am, I like that,” she chuckled, “I’m used to a different ‘M’ word, aren’t I slut?”
“Yes, Mistress,” the older woman nodded, clearly embarrassed.
Trying to remain focused, even though the strange submission was turning me on slightly… I hadn’t gotten laid in a couple of months… I repeated, “License and registration, Mi-am.” I caught myself from saying ‘Mistress’ just in time. My face flushed at the near error.
The young lady (?) unfortunately noticed my almost slip of the tongue. “Mi-am, that’s a new one,” she said with a smile, her hypnotic blue eyes piercing into me. “What seems to be the problem, officer?” she asked ever so innocently.
I paused a second, unable to break free of her eye contact, but I finally responded, “You were going fifty in a thirty-five zone.”
“I was?” she asked innocently.
“Yes,” I said.
“I’m so sorry. The car is new and, well, it is built for speed,” she explained.
“Regardless, ma’am, I need your license and registration,” I repeated, getting frustrated.
“Don’t you mean mi-am?” she asked, smiling.
“Now!” I ordered, annoyed, attempting to take control of the situation, before adding, “Plus, your passenger could be charged with indecent exposure.”
“Oh my, we can’t have that. She’s my best friend’s mom and a high school librarian,” the young blonde said.
I paused, trying to regroup. Each time I felt I was beginning to comprehend this situation, she raised the bar. I was called the ice cop at work because of my strong persona. Yet, I could feel wetness in my panties and a curiosity as to how an older woman, a professional, could submit to such a young girl and obey such ludicrous orders without even an argument. I searched for my ice cop and said, “Well, I’ll overlook her transgression, but I’ll still need to see your license and registration.”
The blonde looked at me for a minute, seeming to assess me. I felt like she was considering whether she could make me behave like the slut beside her, but then she turned towards the older woman, still sucking the bottle, and ordered, “Get the registration, slut.”
“Yes, Mistress,” the older woman responded.
The girl rummaged in her purse and pulled out some handcuffs. Looking at me, she smiled, “I have some of these, too. Never know when they’ll come in useful. Isn’t that right, my librarian slave?”
“Yes, Mistress,” the older woman continued to agree.
The young woman asked me, “Ever been handcuffed, officer?”
My pussy leaked more at her frank question and its accompanying innuendo, yet I remained stolid, ignoring the question as my face burned red. I requested again, “License and registration, please.”
“The handcuffs are a good way to allow yourself to let go of the societal expectations to be good, and just allow yourself to submit to your carnal desires to obey,” the young girl continued, pretty much telling me she wanted me to submit to her just like her passenger.
“P-p-please, your license and r-r-registration, ma’am,” I stammered, now flustered.
The older woman handed the younger girl the registration, and after removing her license from her purse she passed them both to me, her hand gently squeezing mine as she did… her eyes speaking volumes. She said, “I can tell what you’re thinking.”
Moving my hand away, I stammered, knowing I had to get back to my patrol car before I totally lost control of this out-of-control situation, “I-I-I’ll be back in a moment.”
“No, ma’am or mi-am?” she teased as I began to leave.
I ignored her comments and returned to my cruiser, my body trembling. I’d be lying if I said there hadn’t been times when I’d almost taken a woman up on such a flirtatious offer, but I’d always resisted. Years of failed relationships with men who didn’t understand my job, or my need to balance my police officer persona with my more submissive bedroom persona had taken their toll. When possible, I liked to let go in a relationship and let the man be in charge. Instead, most saw me as too strong-willed to be submissive, even when I gave them major İstanbul Escort hints.
Yet, here was this girl who was flagrantly dominant, who would have no hesitation in putting me through my paces, and although I should have been mortified by her behaviour, I was mortified by how wet I was.
I looked at her license. Her name was Bree Summers and she was nineteen years old. I wondered how someone as young as she was could have such confidence. It had taken me years to build the strong persona and confidence I now displayed. Most of the time.
Deciding I’d just give her a warning, I returned to her car after only being away a couple of minutes.
I handed back her license and registration and said firmly, as if I was doing her a favour, “I’m going to just give you a warning this time.”
Bree didn’t seem surprised, and she smiled, accepting back her documents, “Thank you so much, Officer. If you ever get curious, you can come and visit me at my sorority house, Pi Alpha Pi.”
I laughed, “Good to know, ma’am. Now please drive safely.”
“Of course,” Bree nodded, “I was just taking my slut back home after a few hours of playtime at the sorority house before her husband gets back from his fishing trip. I’d hate for her husband to learn of her… persuasions.”
My cunt was on fire, but I simply nodded, “Just obey the speed limit,” and walked away.
Once she drove away, I returned to my cruiser, slid my hand inside my uniform and began rubbing myself, desperately needing to get off. Eyes closed, I imagined it was I in the passenger seat, and it was one of my fellow cops catching me in such a compromising situation. I came in no time, the fantasy feeling so real. Yet, as soon as my orgasm faded, I cursed my weakness as I shifted into drive.
…
A few days later I was working the beachside (the best place to work, quite frankly), when I was called to deal with a theft at a beachside shop. I walked in and was told by an annoyed teenage employee that two teenage girls had tried to steal bikinis underneath their clothing.
Unfortunately the store had no video cameras, so since the employee had already retrieved the merchandise, it ended up being a she said / she said situation. I took the two girls aside and asked them a few questions to see if I could persuade them to confess to the crime, but they were giving away nothing. So eventually I instructed them they weren’t to return to this establishment, then let them go with a stern warning.
After the two left, I went to speak again with the salesperson who’d made the call, a young woman who’d identified herself as Katherine Winston. I explained what had transpired and was surprised by her attitude toward me. “I know why you really let those two thieves go.”
“Excuse me?” I questioned, annoyed both by her tone and implication. I’d met her a few times before and always thought she was a very pleasant young woman.
“I’ve seen you around here. You think no one notices, but I do. The way you check out some girls with big racks when they walk by. You sure seemed to take your time ‘interrogating’ those two put-your-eyes-outs, and yet you accomplished nothing,” she accused, having learned, as I eventually discovered, from Mistress Bree over the past year how to seduce older women through aggressive behaviour.
“Ma’am,” I began, trying to remain civil, “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I did everything by the book.”
“Sure, sure you did,” she responded condescendingly, before continuing on the full offensive, having learned from Bree that once you begin the sexual assault, you go for the jugular, “What was the name of that book? The Joy of Sex?”
“That’s hardly appropriate, ma’am,” I responded, happening to remember the strange conversation with that Bree girl I’d pulled over a few days earlier.
She stepped out from behind the register, walked to the store front, turned the Open sign to Closed and locked the door. She walked back to me and continued, “Tell me officer”, as she pulled her top off, revealing her perky breasts in a skimpy bra, “did you get to the meat of the matter with them?”
“Ma’am,” I gasped, staring at her breasts.
“You obviously want a better look at some feminine pulchritude,” she continued, unclasping her bra and tossing it on the floor.
“W-w-what are you doing?” I stammered, as I stared in shock at her stiff nipples, my mind spinning, realising she was onto something, that I wanted to touch them, to suck them.
Katherine continued, slipping out of her skirt next, revealing she was wearing a thong and thigh highs beneath, as she spoke, “Tell me, do you only like to look at high school girls, or is one of college age acceptable”?
I continued to stammer, trying to gain control of this bizarre situation, “Y-y-you’re behaving way out of line, young lady.”
“I thought I was a ma’am?” she objected tartly, raising an eyebrow as she sat down on a bench in only her thong and thigh highs.
This was getting crazy, seeming almost like a sequel to my Beylikdüzü Escort odd encounter of a few days ago with the blonde teenager. “Ma’am, I’m going now.”
The cute girl asked, “Why, Officer O’Riley? The shops are closing. You’re almost off duty. Wouldn’t you prefer to get more comfortable?” She then stood up and slid out of her thong, revealing a completely shaved vagina… cunt… whatever.
Overwhelmed, flustered, suddenly incredibly horny, and realizing I was seconds away from doing something very unprofessional, I stammered, “I-I-I need to be going, ma’am.” I quickly left the almost naked girl behind, fumbled briefly with the lock on the door, and scurried to my car. For the second time this week, my fingers went inside my uniform and directly to my very wet, needy cunt.
I was close to orgasm when I was startled by a knock on my window. It was Katherine, and she was smiling widely. I pulled my hand out of my uniform, mortified that I’d been caught in the act.
Reluctantly, I rolled the window down. She said, “See? I did that to you, didn’t I? I knew you were a lesbo.”
“I-I-I’m not,” I stammered, although it was tough to come up with a different explanation of why I was rubbing myself off in my police car.
“Sure, sure,” she laughed. “If you ever want to taste some sweet cunt that isn’t from your own fingers, just come back to the store and beg me for it.”
Before I could respond she sauntered away, amused at catching me in the act.
I sighed. What the hell was coming over me? I wasn’t a lesbian. I’d never even seriously considered being with another woman, and yet for the second time in two days, I was completely turned on by bitchy girls who were flaunting their bodies at me.
I drove away, ignoring the burn in my loins, determined not to be tempted again.
…
A couple nights later the two teen seductresses, one a Mistress, the other a Mistress in training, met up for coffee, having not seen each other for most of the month of August. Bree had travelled and Katherine had worked at the beach store before they each started their sophomore year of college.
“So my number one slut, what’s new?” Bree asked in her usual frank manner, always reminding her pets who was the Mistress.
“Well, you won’t believe what happened at the shop a couple days ago,” Katherine replied. She then told the story of the cop, and how she’d gotten her so flustered.
“Wow, you’re really coming along. How many pets do you have now?” Bree asked, proud of her best friend, and of watching her protégé in a few seductions, blossom from shy submissive to sultry seductress.
“Seven now, if you count the two you gave me as presents,” Katherine answered, the last two pets she’d seduced being the manager of this coffee shop, and a friend of her mom’s (her mom being the first MILF Bree had ever seduced, and one of her two presents from Bree).
“Well, of course you do. I may have given them to you, but just because they answer to me first, doesn’t mean you can’t claim them. Besides, how can you not count your Mom?” Bree replied.
“Well, I just didn’t know if they counted if you gave them to me, even though Mom does still require some training. Do you know a couple nights ago, she stammered something about Dad being downstairs when I told her to get her lips on my pussy? Sometimes punishing her tires me out,” Katherine answered, before laughing. Having a live-in Mommy-pet had been a great perk while Bree had gone away for the summer after giving Katherine her own mother as a completely submissive pet. Sure, Katherine’s mother had protested, but Bree had a way of always making her pets obey her, and her protégé was coming along splendidly.
“Oh I know; I had her fucking herself with a soda bottle a few days ago in the car, because I caught her wearing panties when I dropped by your house for a visit and a quick cunt lapping. She said she was just ending her period, but I didn’t buy it,” Bree said.
“Maybe I’ll have to punish her at home too,” Katherine said, thinking that having her sleep with a butt plug in her ass could do the trick.
“Oh, you really should,” Bree nodded, before adding, “And speaking of cops, I have my own cop story. We got pulled over for speeding. When the cop came up to my window, Nadine was plunging that bottle in and out of her box and was totally lost in it! That lady cop was flabbergasted when your Mom didn’t pay attention to a word she said, but just kept fucking herself. And she sure seemed nervous when I showed her my own handcuffs. I’m certain I could have had her begging for my twat if I weren’t pressed for time.”
Both girls happened to be laughing out loud as the lady cop under discussion walked into the coffee shop.
…
Another long day, another lonely night, I sighed to myself as I entered the coffee shop to grab a late-night dinner for take-out. As I placed the order, I heard the sound of girls giggling from behind me. Locals or tourists? I wondered. Being a beach town in the summer, it was hard to tell. Of course, it would be easier in the offseason. No one in their right mind went to the beach in Massachusetts in January. All that tittering was annoying me after a long day. I glanced at the two young women, thinking they probably had nothing to do in the late summer but spend their parents’ money.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32