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.”