Turning SnapSex into RealSex

Four years ago, Dianna’s daughter, Sabrina, graduated from Wake Forest Univerity as a journalist.  She had a difficult time honing down her field of study between political writing and doing stories on charitable work.

That all changed one afternoon at the Hanes Mall, five miles south of campus…

While out with some friends at the Hanes Mall, Sabrina witnessed an armed robbery of one of the mall’s ATMs.  Acting on her youthful instincts, she used her phone to record him robbing the ATM while another friend called 911.  The burglar heard the friend call and fatally shot her.  He then turned around and attempted to fire a shot at Sabrina, only to have his gun misfire.

From a distance, one gunshot was heard which took down the burglar.  When Sabrina turned her phone, she saw that a middle-aged woman had pulled out her gun and fired a single shot.

The 911 prompted a response from Winston-Salem police.  One officer interviewed the woman who fired the long shot at the burglar.  Another tended to Sabrina’s friend, who pronounced her dead at the scene.  Once Sabrina realized what’d happened, she scurried over to that police officer, who gave her the solemn look.  In her frantic state, Sabrina mentioned that she’d taken some cellphone video.  Her emotional state hadn’t caught up with processing her friend’s death, but she was lucid enough to agree to work with police in getting the video off her cellphone.

As she regrouped with the other three people she’d come with, she found herself staring at the ATM as mall security and a fourth officer were attending to slain burglar.  Her mind replayed the precise moment where his gun was pointed at her as it was settling in that had the gun not jammed, she would have been dead.

The officer whose grave look informed her of her friend’s death, approached her to ask some questions and to offer her medical treatment.  She declined the medical treatment, signing a wavier, but cooperated with questions and offered her information.  The friends were also questioned and offered treatment; none accepted the medical treatment.  All three were advised to visit the health center on campus for a quick checkup.

As Sabrina looked on, the burglar was carried out on a stretcher by paramedics.  She also noticed that the good samaritan was being taken into custody.

The girls’ shocked state of mind had them leaving the mall.  On the way out, one of them spotted a local media truck.  One reporter read quickly that all three seemed distraught and approached them for a sound byte.  One of them, less filtered, replied, “You can see that we’re in rough shape – please leave us alone!”

It was after that day that Sabrina decided to become a news reporter.

For the next six months after incident, a national conversation began around the idea of using a cellphone to film something happening around you.  Hers was the first that was used as the official video depicting a crime in progress.

June 2014

Over the course of four years, hard work and perserverance enabled her to graduate with a four-year degree in journalism with a 3.6 GPA.  She was pleased to discover that her experience prompted Wake Forest’s journalist program to incorporate using a cellphone as another way to capture a story.  That trend would find its way into journalism classes across the country.

To get her entry-level start as a reporter, she took a job with WRAL in Raleigh doing stories on charity work.  Within two years of taking the job, she had created a new standard across the nation of using cellphones and tablets to do live coverage while connecting to the station’s Facebook and Twitter pages.  Broadcast networks in droves began phasing our their outdated and expensive broadcast studios in favor of a cleaner look that ultimately lead to a better quality of news reporting without having haul expensive equipment.

In Feburary of 2018, one of Sabrina’s journalism peers from Wake Forest, Carmen, also one of the women who was there at the mall shooting, founded a journalism non-profit based out of Phoneix.  She noted that news coverage in 2016-2017 had degraded in quality and needed an overhaul, and her mission would also bring the industry into the new decade.  She offered Sabrina the position of vice president.

April 2019

Sabrina’s schedule had her speaking at a three-day event in Miami, putting her thirty minutes from her mom’s new house in Miami Gardens.  Sabrina had moved out of her parents house a few months after their relationship took a turn for the worse.  Going to school in a different state gave her the distance she needed.  While she and her mom  chatted on a monthly basis, it wasn’t until she graduated from Wake Forest that she learned that her parents had divorced and her mom had moved to Miami Gardens.  When her job took her to Miami to speak about how social media had become the primary way people were getting their information, she called her mom to see if she was interested in getting together.  Considering the last time they actually saw each other was at her graduation, she was adamant that they link up.

Dianna had considered cooking dinner, but Sabrina’s schedule made the timing tricky.  Her itinierary had her arriving in Miami close to 7:30PM, and she had to be up the next morning for day one of the conference.  They arranged, instead, to go out to dinner at an upscale restaurant in Miami Lakes.

Plans were further complicated when Sabrina’s flight had to deal with a medical emergency, forcing it to land in Dallas.  The new estimated landing time was approximately 10PM, at which point the restaurant would be closed.  To make up for it, Sabrina arranged to grab dinner with her after the conference wrapped up, and decided to take a personal day when she returned.

Back in Miami Gardens

Coincidentally, that night, Dianna had received a SnapChat message from Ricky, a rather attractive lawyer she met via Tinder.  Within two weeks of matching, they added each other, then had SnapSex.  Watching a live stream of Ricky jerking off always made Dianna cum quickly while masturbating.

He mentioned that tonight was one of few nights he had available to him, and asked if she wanted to hook up.  Given her plans with her daughter had changed, she eagerly accepted.

She headed up to her room to change into something more alluring. The winning outfit would be a one piece dress that accuentuated her C-size tits.  There was no doubt that Sabrina’s sexy figure came from her mother, though her attitude and ego came from her father.

Not long before she headed out, her phone chimed with a text message.  “Good thing we rescheduled.  MIA is having tech issues.  Only in 2019 do airports still have these issues.”  Dianna didn’t reply to the message, but airline troubles are nothing new to either her or her daughter.

Dressed to kill, she headed out.

She used Google Maps to the plot the directions; it was a forty-five minute drive to his house.  With the GPS set to go, she opened her video app where she’d stored a short video of him masturbating, and hit play.  She didn’t masturbate often to his video, but the few times she did, it didn’t take her long to cum. While she didn’t want to risk crashing her car, just looking at his cock made her wet.  Most of the drive took her up I-95, and at night, cops were rarely on the road.

She decided to risk it.

Pulling up her dress, she took two fingers and teased herself. It wouldn’t be long before she started swerving in her car. To avoid getting pulled over, she pulled her dress back down until she arrived at Ricky’s.

She decided to risk it and floor the gas until arrival; doing so, helped her shave ten minutes off the trip.  More often than not, it’s the case that cruisers are out more as a deterrent, than as enforcers.

At close to 10:30PM, she arrived at Ricky’s house.  As she pulled into the driveway, she took her first look at the house he’d described several times.  She approached the front door and it opened as she stepped closer.  The entrance was setup such that his house was the door on the left, and his office was on the right.  The door to his office had a biometric lock.  The door bore his name, “Richard Jare, JD” with the state seal for a notary public designation, a sticker for the ABA.

As she continued to admire the office door, the other door opened as he greeted her, “Hey there, Dianna.”

When she turned around, he was naked.  It took her a seccond to realize there was a camera setup above the door, where he probably saw her enter.  He invited her inside.

She took her shoes off and put them by the entrance.

“Can I offer you a drink?  I have wine, beer, and I can make something mixed.”

She swung her head back around to make eye contact replying, “How about a White Russian?”

As he nodded, she couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his cock, just sitting out there.

Trying to create conversation, she said, “A man’s never greeted me in the buff.”

He chuckled, “I knew you were coming alone, so I figured it wouldn’t matter.”

He made the drink and put it on the counter by the kitchen.  He also grabbed himself a Bud Light.

“I’m curious, how long have you been practicing law?” she asked, trying to stimulate some conversation while fantasizing about him.

He knew what she was up to, but answered anyway, “Fifteen years this month.  Started in Corporate Law in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, then took up unemployment practice in Chicago.  I made my way down here for Intellectual Property Law about five years ago.”

“Wow, you jumped around,” she replied, trying to seem interested, even though she just wanted to fuck him.

“I can still practice the other two, but I tend to specialize in IP,” he replied, seeing through her attempts at small talk.

“So, I’m in real estate,” she said as her hand made its way surreptitiously into her dress, “and I’m trying to start my own firm, but I have no legal help.”

Being a lawyer, he noticed her subtle move to start masturbating while talking to him.  He stood up and walked behind her.  He proceeded to massage her shoulders to relax her.  At the same time, she felt the head of his cock poking her in the back.

“I can tell you that there’s no shortage of real estate lawyers in Miami,” he said with a seductive voice as he continued the massage.  His large hands pushed into her shoulders almost orgasmically.  Her body melted as her pussy become wetter by the second.

He lowered his face and started applying kisses to her neck.  “If you do find yourself actually needing legal advice, I have a few partners that I can direct you to.”

As the massages continued, her fingers kept fingering.  The conversation had transitioned into a series of moans from both.

He lowered his body down to her level, “Dianna, let me do that,” as he turned her around and resumed fingering her.  This made his cock stand at attention, just begging for a good suck or fuck.  Just having two fingers reach in made her squirm.

She reciprocated by lowering her head for a blowjob.  The combination of both stimuli accelerated stimulation.  His cock was delicious and such a treat after months of masturbating to him stroking it.  She couldn’t get enough of his fingers, but she wanted to be fucked.

“Ricky, just fuck me…”

She stood up facing the other direction as he aligned his cock and finished what he started.  Each thrust brought her that much closer to an orgasm.  He was able to play with her nipples softly while pounding her, making it that much hotter.

Given that she was most of the way there before she arrived and his foreplay, it didn’t take much more than another five minutes for the build up to come full force as she felt her pussy gush.  He wasn’t too far behind her as she could feel him getting ready to burst.

While they enjoyed their orgasms, his felt too routine for her liking, almost like for a single guy, he fucks so often, just for the sake of getting off.

Blown in Churchville

As she did every Thursday morning, Officer Melinda Raffi patrolled the west side of Churchville. It was a brisk morning, light wind blowing, and just chilly enough that a jacket was needed.

Melinda had a simple routine:  She drove her car to the underground parking garage at the Churchville Police Department, parked it among a few of her colleagues, and secured it.  She’d served the Churchville community for close to five years.

As she approached the elevator, it opened as if on cue and out stepped two of her brethren who looked beat up and bloodshot after a double.  She asked them how they were and their only response was, “We don’t get paid enough to work these long shifts.”

They weren’t wrong, but these two officers didn’t bother to show when the union had its most recent meeting to negotiate salaries.  They received invitations, but like each preceding year, they had some kind of excuse, unlike Melinda who always made it a point to show up to each meeting.

As they walked toward their personal vehicles feeling exhausted, Melinda commanded the elevator to the fourth floor locker rooms.  When the doors closed, it showed a poster of the preamble to the U.S. Constitution, the basis for the American legal system.

The doors opened to the fourth floor as she stepped out and headed for her locker.  After unlocking it, she went through the motions of removing her civilian identity and clothing herself as an agent of the state.  She put her hair up in a bun and donned her officer hat and duty belt.  A fellow officer stopped by to ask her how the meeting went with the union since she was on vacation for two weeks.

Her only reply, “Between you and me, Donna, either we need a new union, or I need to find a new line of work.”  Melinda usually walked away from the meetings feeling defeated, but still attended so that she could say she tried.

Her next stop was the arms locker, which always annoyed her in the days after a union meeting.  The sergeant who maintined the log and issued service weapons always mocked her for going to a meeting where she wouldn’t have much success.

As she approached, she saw that it was a different officer.

“Where’s Joseph?  I was looking forward to some back-and-forth with him.”

“He’s on vacation this week,” replied the covering officer.

Melinda chuckled and replied in her usual snark, “Yeah, after he was suspended for harrassing Jennifer.”

“Name?” asked the arms officer.

“Oh, right, sorry.  Melinda Raffi.  I should be case #12,” she replied.

The officer walked over to the shelf where service weapons are locked up at the end of the night and couldn’t find hers.  His body language made it evident that it wasn’t there.

“Officer Raffi, it’s not here.  Did you accidentally take it home again?” he replied with some snark considering how often she’s done it.

“Check the log, smartass,” she replied, matching his snark.

He looked in the computer and tapped some keys.

He turned the monitor to face her, “No, Melinda, you forgot to sign the fuckin’ thing back in again.”  She signed it out the previous day at her usual time around 8AM, but nothing for sign-in time.

“You know, not turning in your weapon is against policy, and I hear you’re big on the rules,” he replied, as a subtle sign that he might report her.

“Sign me out one of the spares,” she said in an attempt to get on with her day.

He took off his glasses and looked at her sternly, “And you know that we can’t fucking do that anymore.  How about you stop taking your weapon home?”

She walked away from the arms locker and returned to hers.  As if she needed more grief with her morning, she forgot to lock her locker.  She looked inside a second time to see that her weapon was sitting holstered in one of the compartments.  She stared at it for a minute trying to figure out how she managed to forget to return it to the arms locker again.  She retreived it from her locker and strapped it on.

To make amends, she returned to the arms locker and apologized to the officer for her attitude.  To prove that it was hers, she stepped aside to unload and clear the gun, and presented the serial number to him to match it up.  After confirming it was hers, he logged it into the system as “forgot to return” again.

“Since this is now the seventh time you’ve forgotten to return your weapon, I have to report this to your supervisor,” he said sternly.

“She won’t fuckin’ care, but go for it,” she replied indignantly as she headed down to her patrol car.

After getting into the cruiser, she took the clipboard that contains the inspection report required before operating it.  She stepped outside and did the usual checks.  The only issue she found was a broken tail light.  The previous driver’s initials were ‘RR.’  Taking a few minutes to think about it, ‘RR’ was one of the two officers who greeted her on the way up the elevator.  She noted the tail light and took a picture of it with her phone.

She fired up the cruiser and headed for her usual spot on Highway 227 as she checked in with dispatch.  Upon arrival, she pulled her cruiser into the median to look for violators.  After parking it, she opened her laptop and started up the lookup program.  Radio was fairly silent short of officers reporting in for duty.  Her phone chimed with a text message from her supervisor, “Before you go off-shift, come see me.  We need to chat.”

She knew it was likely about the departmental violation, but she simply replied “10-4.”

For approximately two hours, Highway 227 was quiet, but the day had only begun.  Her mind began rehashing the union meeting, and the lack of action from her steward only further exacerbated her irritation.

Being in-service, she needed to cool her mind so she didn’t take it out on a member of the public.

By hour number three, she decided to leave that area to do some patrol around the south side of town.  Radio traffic was increasing as calls came in for everything from breakdowns, to welfare checks, and one report a burglary in progress by a bank ten minutes away.  Normally, Melinda would respond to the call, but two officers beat her to it.

Four turns later and she came upon Rello Avenue, one of four streets that exemplifes the town’s name.  Many residents call it ‘The Lord’s neighborhood.’  Ironically, dispatch receives most of their drug dealing and indecent sex calls from this area.

As she drove down Rello, she was following the burglary call.  By the time the officers arrived, one patron had the burglar at gunpoint, allowing the officers to make a swift arrest.

After clearing Rello, she came to an intersection at the corner of it and Bridge Street. She approached the intersection tailing a red Ford Focus. As she looked into the vehicle from her vantage point, the operator’s head was hung down – could be texting, could be stretching their neck.  While text and driving is a citable offensive, she couldn’t clearly see the driver actually doing it.

After a few minute of waiting, the operator’s head came back up.  Out of impatience, he decided to make a right turn on red, despite the sign in front of him barring it. Melinda  radioed the information to dispatch and hit the lights.

The motorist promptly pulled over, likely because he knew he was guilty.  She ran his plates: His name was Jacob Mole and he was from Moslin, and his driving record and history showed nothing of immediate concern. Date of Birth showed him to be 28 years old.  She stepped out of her cruiser and approached his vehicle from the driver’s side.

His window was rolled down and his opening line was “Let me guess, you bagged me for the intersection?”

She replied, “It’s like you were baiting me.”

Chuckling, he replied, “Nope, I just get sick of a red light that takes forever to turn green.”

She replied without much humor, “Breaking the law with an officer behind you isn’t a good way to start the day.”  She also noticed he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.

He handed over his license, registration, and proof of insurance. Melinda had a feeling this wasn’t his first time based on his comment of the red light. As she took a cursory look at his documents, Jacob’s eyes made a sweep from head to toe, checking her out.  As his eyes brushed her tits, his cock hardened.  With her collared shirt being one size too small thanks to budget cuts, anytime she interacts with the public, her tits look bigger than they actually are.

Her eyes returned to see him gawking. Melinda was a fairly attractive officer; she’s had motorists gawk at her before. In a way she loves the attention and she knows she’s a knockout.  Jacob had the look of a guy who would be the regular of a dance club, very smooth with women.  His smile was etched in stone and he was already fantasizing.

“You have me curious as to why you decided to defy a posted sign with me directly behind you.”

Jacob feeling frisky replied, “I won’t lie officer, I saw you in my rearview – ”

She cut him off and replied, “Your head was down.”  She looked over at his center console to see his cellphone laying face up with the text message screen active.

“Were you texting while at the red light?  Looks like your texting app is active.”

His return glance was a look of guilt.

“I guess you busted me,” said nonchalantly.  His smile was one of both arousal and a read that she wasn’t serious about enforcing his violations.  She recognized the flirtation head-on, but was aroused and enamored by it.

“I’m sure you also know that texting while driving, even at a stop light is a violation,” she said less casually.   She did like his gawking and some of it was turning her on, but she had to remain professional.

Jacob didn’t say much, but continued to plant his eyes on her tits.

He sustained his nonchalant, flirtatious smile.  Involutnarily, she returned the smile as she returned to her patrol car to process things.

As she re-entered her vehicle, she informed dispatch of the texting while at a red light, not wearing a seatbelt, and the right turn at a posted intersection.  As she typed the infractions into her computer, they generated a ticket close of $450.  She was about the push the button when she stared cold at the charges against him, considered what a playful flirt he was, and the fact that this all started because he was too impatient to wait for the light to go green.

Given that she was in a position of authority, she decided to make the best of the situation, but she couldn’t delay the stop much longer.

She checked the option for “written warning” and exited her cruiser.

As she approached Jacob’s window, she noticed he was hunched over his phone.

As she returned to the driver’s side, she noticed he was hunched back down over his phone, but this time, he was on a video-sharing site.  Taking a second look, he had begun jerking off.

It took a second for him to realize she was standing by the window.  As he noticed it, he dropped the phone and made an attempt to cover his masturbation.  Her reply was a quick giggle.

“Given the nature of the traffic offenses you committed, you’d have an expensive penalty on your hands,” she said trying to keep a straight face despite being aroused.

To keep the humor going, he replied “Let me guess, you’ll just arrest me for jerking off.”

He followed that with a wink and a snarky, “Please, you like what you see.  I’m sure you’d love…”

She stepped back a few inches, “Please step out of the vehicle.”

Pleased to comply, he ascended and faced Melinda. She put his documents into her back pocket and let her hair down as it came down just below her shoulders.

His cock lost some of his hardness as he stepped out of the car, but still very much appealing.  Jacob wasn’t large, but not unappealing.  Melinda’s pussy was watering as she wanted to dive in.  If she tossed him into the cruiser and sucked him off, the whole thing would end up being recorded.  On other hand, three cameras would catch whatever they did outside.

As her hair came down, Jacob’s cock returned to full hardness.  Melinda saw this, loosened her shirt, and undid the top two buttons. Her nipples were hard just fantasizing about Jacob’s bulge.  Jacob returned to stroking as he continued to gawk.

Over the radio, she could hear dispatch asking if the situation was under control, to which Melinda replied, “Situation normal. The violator is looking for directions. Will call if needed.”

She closed the distance between them and said in a seductive and sultry tone, “I’m here to tell you that your indignancy for the law and whipping out your cock for a police officer is grounds for arrest.”

Jacob interrupted her attempt at being a serious officer, “Melinda, just start sucking.  I know you’re hungry for it.”

She continued with a horny grin, “However, considering your lust for me, I’m willing to simply issue you a written warning if you comply with my instructions.”

Jacob stared into her eyes, and drew them down to her top, as he unbuttoned more of her shirt, exposing a white bra. His hands undressing her made her that much hotter.  He started groping her and pinching her nipples.  Unable to contain herself, she reached down and continued stroking him.  His cock felt warm to the touch and pleasing to the stroke.  She hadn’t sucked or stroked a cock in a few years, mostly due to her ever-changing schedule.

“How ’bout I make you cum so hard you’ll forget why you bagged me in the first place?” he replied with a soft, seductive growl.  That melted her as she dropped to her knees and started sucking.

It didn’t take that long for her to get to him to a point where he was close to an orgasm.

She released his cock and said, “Starting early has you shooting early.”

She continued to stroke him, but at a slower pace to drag out the orgasm.

“For a guy who wanted to make me cum, it looks like you’ll be cumming first,” she said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and?” he said with an insecure tone.

The stroke hit the point of climax as a stream of cum shot out rapidly and onto the ground beneath them.  “I guess you’re going to have to return the favor someday.”

As his cock returned to being flaccid, she buttoned up her shirt.

“I’m all in.  How should I get ahold of you?” he asked eagerly.

As she adjusted her duty belt and started to head back to her cruiser, she replied, “You seem like a resourceful person.  I’ll let you figure that out.  Try to stay out of trouble.”