licence plate.
She piped up again.
'I said what's this all about? I'm in a bit of a hurry.'
I hooked my fingers into my belt.
'Is this your vehicle?' I asked calmly.
'No, it's my husband's. Look, can you just
tell me what I've done wrong?'
She was getting flustered now, and like a
good martial arts fighter, I was going to use her own strength against her.
'Two things. I stopped you because
back there you were doing 55 miles per hour in a 40 mile per hour zone. I've
also got reason to believe you're driving under the influence of alcohol.'
Her face fell at this. Not so confident
now, are you? I thought to myself. It was time to go in for the kill.
'Can I see your licence please?'
I knew she didn't have to carry it, but most
people do nowadays and it added to the realism. She fumbled in her handbag for
what seemed like ages, and while she wasn't looking I glanced round quickly, pleased
to see that the road in both directions was dark and deserted. Eventually she
passed the little plastic wallet to me, and beamed a smile.
'There you are.'
I realised why she'd been fumbling about: as
I opened the wallet I saw a fifty pound note tucked in with the licence. Bingo.
She'd just made everything so much easier.
I pretended not to see the note and handed
the wallet back, looking her straight in the eye.
'I hope that's not what I think it is.
Attempting to bribe a police officer is a very serious offence. Let's just
forget that happened, shall we?'
She paused, pushing her hair back and smiling
again, looking me up and down. 'Look, maybe we can...'
Fuck me, I thought. I'm not even going to
have to suggest it to her. She's doing all the work while I just enjoy the
show. I hadn't stopped any women who were this easy before.
'Maybe we can what?' She had to be the one to
say it - I was careful to
cover my back that way.
She laughed and looked me up and down again
under hooded eyes, gathering her resolve, I guessed, and came out with it.
'Maybe we can have a bit of a good time and
forget all about it?'
'Right.' I walked quickly to
the passenger door and opened it, getting in and taking my cap off. I pulled
the door to with a soft click and savoured the feel of the expensive leather
upholstery. Her face fell a bit as she wondered if I wasn't falling for it and
was going to run her in, but then I reached up and clicked off the light. If
anybody passed they would think we were what used to
be called a 'courting couple' and hopefully leave us alone.
It was time for the get out clause.
'You don't have to do anything you don't want
to,' I said. 'We can sort this out at the station if you prefer. I guarantee
you'll get let off with a caution.'
It might sound crazy to let her off the hook
like that but I'm no rapist or pervert, I don't force women into anything. I
reckon I just set up the scene for her own fantasy.
OK, some hairy arsed feminist would say I'm still putting pressure on her, but
then they don't understand female psychology the way I do. 'Anti-slut defence',
it's called; I've read about it on the internet; women will do pretty much
anything and enjoy it as well, if you give them the opportunity to convince
themselves 'it just happened' and they didn't plan it.
There was a bit of a pause and I wondered if
she was going to call my bluff. To be honest it wouldn't have worried me too
much, as sex is just part of it, not the be all and end all, but then she was
over the gear lever and straddling me, quicker than I expected - she was a live one, alright. Her
mouth sought mine and I got a taste of cigarettes and wine as her tongue drove
into my mouth. I was pretty sure she was a bit pissed so in a way, I might have
done some good pulling her over. She arched her back and pulled off her jacket,
chucking it onto the back seat, while she tossed her hair back and started
unbuttoning her blouse, which was stretched nice and tight in
She piped up again.
'I said what's this all about? I'm in a bit of a hurry.'
I hooked my fingers into my belt.
'Is this your vehicle?' I asked calmly.
'No, it's my husband's. Look, can you just
tell me what I've done wrong?'
She was getting flustered now, and like a
good martial arts fighter, I was going to use her own strength against her.
'Two things. I stopped you because
back there you were doing 55 miles per hour in a 40 mile per hour zone. I've
also got reason to believe you're driving under the influence of alcohol.'
Her face fell at this. Not so confident
now, are you? I thought to myself. It was time to go in for the kill.
'Can I see your licence please?'
I knew she didn't have to carry it, but most
people do nowadays and it added to the realism. She fumbled in her handbag for
what seemed like ages, and while she wasn't looking I glanced round quickly, pleased
to see that the road in both directions was dark and deserted. Eventually she
passed the little plastic wallet to me, and beamed a smile.
'There you are.'
I realised why she'd been fumbling about: as
I opened the wallet I saw a fifty pound note tucked in with the licence. Bingo.
She'd just made everything so much easier.
I pretended not to see the note and handed
the wallet back, looking her straight in the eye.
'I hope that's not what I think it is.
Attempting to bribe a police officer is a very serious offence. Let's just
forget that happened, shall we?'
She paused, pushing her hair back and smiling
again, looking me up and down. 'Look, maybe we can...'
Fuck me, I thought. I'm not even going to
have to suggest it to her. She's doing all the work while I just enjoy the
show. I hadn't stopped any women who were this easy before.
'Maybe we can what?' She had to be the one to
say it - I was careful to
cover my back that way.
She laughed and looked me up and down again
under hooded eyes, gathering her resolve, I guessed, and came out with it.
'Maybe we can have a bit of a good time and
forget all about it?'
'Right.' I walked quickly to
the passenger door and opened it, getting in and taking my cap off. I pulled
the door to with a soft click and savoured the feel of the expensive leather
upholstery. Her face fell a bit as she wondered if I wasn't falling for it and
was going to run her in, but then I reached up and clicked off the light. If
anybody passed they would think we were what used to
be called a 'courting couple' and hopefully leave us alone.
It was time for the get out clause.
'You don't have to do anything you don't want
to,' I said. 'We can sort this out at the station if you prefer. I guarantee
you'll get let off with a caution.'
It might sound crazy to let her off the hook
like that but I'm no rapist or pervert, I don't force women into anything. I
reckon I just set up the scene for her own fantasy.
OK, some hairy arsed feminist would say I'm still putting pressure on her, but
then they don't understand female psychology the way I do. 'Anti-slut defence',
it's called; I've read about it on the internet; women will do pretty much
anything and enjoy it as well, if you give them the opportunity to convince
themselves 'it just happened' and they didn't plan it.
There was a bit of a pause and I wondered if
she was going to call my bluff. To be honest it wouldn't have worried me too
much, as sex is just part of it, not the be all and end all, but then she was
over the gear lever and straddling me, quicker than I expected - she was a live one, alright. Her
mouth sought mine and I got a taste of cigarettes and wine as her tongue drove
into my mouth. I was pretty sure she was a bit pissed so in a way, I might have
done some good pulling her over. She arched her back and pulled off her jacket,
chucking it onto the back seat, while she tossed her hair back and started
unbuttoning her blouse, which was stretched nice and tight in
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