Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Quickie - Reckless Endangerment - by Redbud [Subject to little revisions, as necessary.] "They're pigs," she shouted into the cellphone. She could hear her mother's sigh fade in and out. "They're people," she said, "like you and me." "Cops, Mom!" she shouted. "They're cops. They're pigs! Men! They're pigs!" "We'll find another place to live." "I don't `want' another place!" she screeched and shut the cell phone. Her hands were shaking. She needed to relax. She was driving too fast. She glanced at the slick black plastic bag in the passenger seat and smiled to herself. Stress relief. Jesus. Why the fuck not? Keeping one hand on the wheel she leaned across the gear console and dug through the plastic bag. It was aqua marine, a soft and speckled rubbery aqua marine, with a golden tip and a little dolphin. Silent but deadly. She hated noisy toys. Hated them. Thank god she had put the batteries in at the store. The sales clerk was embarrassed. Like women weren't supposed to have sex drives. Fuck him. She pulled aside her panties. Lifted herself off the seat, positioned the smooth round tip of the dildo at the kiss of the opening and oh... she, oh! - she lowered herself, letting her own weight smoothly open her sex and belly to the aqua marine penetrant. Her bottom met the seat. She groaned. The long toy was completely inside her, vibrating, sending its pulses deeply into her abdomen. Oh yes, she was relaxing. She reached for the phone. It clattered to the floor. Shit! God damn it! ** Jesus! Jack Russ swerved, narrowly avoiding the Vanagon. He slammed on his brakes, glanced in the mirror, switched on the lights and swung around. The Vanagon had swerved off the road, dust from the berm was billowing behind it. Some hippy son-of-a-bitch. Probably doped up. If he was pissed, mad as hell, it wasn't going to show. He was professional. ** She kept the brakes locked until the van stopped, one hand tightly gripped the wheel, the other gripped the damned phone. She took a deep breath. Flashing lights! What the... shit! She watched the cruiser pull behind her, half on the berm, half off. At the same time the cop was calling in her plates he was stepping out of the cruiser. Self-important son-of-a-bitch! Wait! Shit! She frantically pulled her panties over aqua! O Jesus! No! She forgot! "Mam?" "Ye... Yes?" "Please step out of the vehicle." "Do I have to?" Was she whining? Jesus. She whined. "Mam." He was so fucking dispassionate, so full of himself. Couldn't he see that she was...disturbed? "Please step out of the car." Sonya opened the door, steeled herself, prayed her panties would hold. She stepped out, holding the damned cell phone in one hand, and trying not to put her other hand between her legs. ** She was cute. No, she was hot - maybe 23 or 24. But he was a professional. Other guys talked about moments like these. Maybe he had fantasized about moments like these. But he had a job to do and he was professional. "Please step to the back of the vehicle, Mam." She was wearing a short skirt and a sleeveless, hemp button-down top. The top button was gone. She was wearing beads. They looked good on her tanned skin, the soft start of her breasts. But he didn't notice. Her legs were tanned too, smooth as silk, and her hips were slender and muscular. But he didn't notice. She was going to need a breathalyzer. There was something wrong. He followed her to the back of the van. He didn't smell weed. He didn't smell alcohol. "Please face the back of the vehicle and place your hands..." "Is that really standard..." "Mam..." "What did I do?" She was cute. Little hippie bitch. So what? She was cute. He was a professional. Did he have probable cause? No. Yes, he had probable cause. She was hiding something . ** Just give her a fucking ticket! She glared at him. He was cute. Maybe he was hot. 26? 27? Maybe he was hot in his uniform. Maybe she was delirious - maybe because there was an aqua marine bar that was stretching her opening into a wet O, that was lodged between her legs and pressing against her womb, vibrating so quietly, so smoothly, so accurately. Fucking dolphin. She had never seen lips on a man like his. They were almost like a woman's lips, but not. She wanted to touch them. "Mam... if I have to ask again..." Then what? - her mind reeled. Tell me what? Her breathing was growing short. She was losing control. Aqua was fucking her so, so beautifully. She was blushing, red as a beet. Jesus, the sun was hot. They were in the middle of a desert, south of Albuquerque, close to Elephant Butte. The cop was cute. ** He watched her turn and bend over, her hands on the rear bumper. That's not what he meant. Her panties were tight. Too tight. They were... they were... "Mam, please stand up." ** Sonya stood. She quickly turned to face him, half-faint. Had he seen. Jesus! What the fuck was she thinking? Why the fuck had she bent over? He just wanted her to put her hands on the back if the van, not bend over like a little slut. "Mam..." he swallowed. "Yes, Sir..." Sir? Did she really say, Sir? Was she whining? "Mam..." God damn-it. O, he knew. And he knew she knew. And he knew she knew he knew she knew. Why was he so fucking hot? ** He was a professional. "Mam..." he swallowed again. When did he forget how to talk? She was looking up at him. Petite brunette. So pretty. So hot. A little waif. She was gorgeous. The sun was so fucking hot. He was sweating. Was she going to cry? No, she wasn't crying. She looked like she was going to cry. She wasn't crying. She was biting her lip. She was twitching. Her whole body was twitching. O, Jesus. He was hard as a lamppost. She knew. He knew she knew. He knew she knew he knew. "Mam..." he couldnt' breath. He needed to adjust himself. "Yes, Sir," she answered, almost whispering. Her tiny voice quavered with a little hiccup when she twitched. He glanced at her cell phone. "Perhaps..." he swallowed again. "The use... the use of electronic devices is... is ill-advised while driving." "Yes Sir," she answered, still biting her lip, her little twitches slowing. "I won't do it again." She squeezed out the last word after a quick tumble of words. "Mam..." "Yes, Sir," she answered meekly. "Have..." he swallowed. "...have a nice day." "Thank you, Sir." She turned. He stared at her narrow hips, moving so languorously and wetly. She opened the door and carefully, so carefully, climbed in, keeping her slender, smooth thighs together. But he didn't notice. He was a professioanl. "Mam..." his voice cracked. "Yes Sir," she answered. "My name... my name is Jack... Jack Russ." "Hi." "You can look me up." "Ok..." What was he thinking? He was a fucking moron - a complete moron. "Jack?" "Yes Mam?" "Do you..." she paused. "Can I call you?"