*************
He stood six foot one with a barrel chest. In his uniform short sleeves, she could see his muscular arms. She figured even with both her hands she could not encircle his flexed, muscular upper arm.
* Oh my, *
she groaned in frustration and thoughts of lustful ideas of getting to know him biblically.
His look of authority was over powering her inner needs. His voice was deep, strong and alluring. How the sight of this uniformed cop gave her a tummy full of butterflies. Then she realized how wet she was becoming.
* Please let me serve you. Please be a Dom that can Master me! Calm down. Just calm down, he is just doing his job
,
*
ran through her head, over and over again.
"Miss, I'll let you off this time. Next time, watch that you don't ride on the shoulder, again. You almost hit that truck back there," the tall sergeant said as he handed back her car registration and driver's license.
"Thank you. I'll do that," she said with a smile as she watched him walk away from her car.
* Oh my. What a cute butt in those tight pants. Mmmmmmmm *
she thought as he mounted his cycle. "Oh come mount me instead of that cycle," she spoke as she turned the motor over. She kept an eye on him as she pulled away from the curb, until he was out of sight. "Oh, I would like to get to know him a lot better," she said to herself as she drove off feeling the lustful needs stirring her belly.
Sgt. Sebastian shook his head as he watched the car pull away. He took out his notepad and wrote down her name and address, along with the license plate number.
* When I get back to station later, I'll look up her record and her phone number. Yes, I will have you Missy. You will be mine, *
he thought to himself after hearing her comment about him mounting her. He put the notepad back into his pocket and headed down the road once again.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
A couple of days later, Sheronda was laying on her bed watching television when the phone rang. "Hello," she answered.
"Hello, Sheronda. How are you this evening?" said the deep male voice on the phone.
"I'm doing fine, thanks. Who are you?" she asked puzzled.
"Sgt. Sebastian, the officer that stopped you the other evening," he reminded her.
The voice was deep, sexy and stirred her nerves. "Sgt. Sebastian? Do I know a Sgt. Sebastian? I don't recall," she teased.
"I let you go a couple of nights ago. You were driving recklessly, and I saved you a ticket plus a lot more trouble. Now you have to pay for my letting you go," he said with a laugh in his voice.
"Oh really . . . How did you get my phone number?" she asked, a bit amused.
He laughed heartily. "Being a cop, it's not that hard to find out what you want to know about someone. After all, I had your address, name and license plate number," he said rather sweetly.
"That is true, so true," she cooed into the phone as she rolled on to her tummy. "What kind of payment are we talking about?"
"Dinner and dancing Saturday night," he told her.
"Hmmm, that's a reasonable price. But first, are you married?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything . . . I don't date married men. How old are you?" she wanted to know everything about him.
"This sounds like the third degree to me," he teased in an authoritative manner.
"In a way it is. You have all the facts about me; it's only fair I have the same information to make a decision on," she said, with sarcasm in her voice.
"I'm fifty-two years old, stand six foot one inches tall and I'm a widower. My wife died several years ago from cancer. The rest you'll have to find out on our date."
"Sorry to hear that. About your wife, I mean."
"Thank you," he said. He heard concern and caring in her voice.
* Can she be for real? *
He wondered.
"How about we meet about seven for dinner?" she suggested.
"Just a second," he checked his palm pilot, "seven would be good. I'll pick you up around then."
"I prefer you didn't pick me up. Why don't we meet at Piazza Italy? I don't live alone," she advised him.
"That's not a problem for me. All right, then, I'll meet you at seven outside of Piazza Italy." They continued to discuss the details of the meeting and what they would be wearing on Saturday.
After they hung up the phone, she lay back on her bed and smiled. She remembered the cop from the other evening; tall, touch of gray at his temples, striking eyes. And his voice was powerful, aggressive, and sexy. She rolled over and started to daydream about the motorcycle cop with the will built body.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
Since it was Saturday she slept until noon before she got up to take a hot shower. Once in the shower, she let the hot water beat down on her sore neck and stiff back muscles while shampooing her hair. Slowly her mind drifted to thoughts of what the night would bring. He was the fabulously tall dark stranger every girl dreamt about.
Would he hold her in his arms tightly when they went dancing? Oh yes, to have his strong arms around her. The sheer thought of her body rubbing up against his on the dance floor got her aroused. She wanted his hands to roam up and down her back and, with luck, down over her tushi. Maybe he would pinch it. Her hand reached back to touch the spot where she imaged he pinched her. She could have sworn, for a moment her cheek felt sore.
