My name is Jim, and I am a 30-year-old night patrolman at a large warehouse complex. Part of my duties are to patrol a large lot where many of the truckers who come to the warehouses drop their empty trailers.
The trailer lot is private property owned by the warehouse company, but since it is outside the security fence, it can be accessed from the county road that runs past by it. There is a gate that is usually secured and numerous signs that read, "No Trespassing."
I was enjoying the warm summer night as I made my rounds. On this particular night, it appeared the trailer lot gate had been force open.
After securing the open gate, I began a systematic patrol of the trailer lot. It was a little after midnight when, near a dark corner at the back of the lot, I spotted a car I didn't recognize. It didn't belong to any of the warehouse workers or drivers authorized to be in the lot.
I quietly approached the car. As I neared the rear of the car, I noted its make, model, color, and license number. I then noticed, with the aid of a distant yard light, the driver's window was down. The car was occupied by what appeared to be a male sitting in the driver's seat. His head was laid back against the headrest, and he seemed to be slowly moving his torso.
He didn't notice me, even as I walked up to his door. By then I could see his eyes were closed and hear the moans coming form inside the car.
Looking inside the car, I saw what had his focused attention. The driver was not alone. He was stroking the long brunette hair of a young lady. She was busily bobbing her head up and down in his lap. She was giving him a blow-job. Although she was only taking a few inches of his cock into her mouth, he seemed to be enjoying it.
I just couldn't bring myself to disturb their pleasure.
In a short time, he had wadded her hair in his fist and was rapidly thrusting his hips up to her head. She seemed to be swallowing his load of cum. As she sat up, I cold see a good deal of it actually dribbled down his cock to his balls.
She sat up and smiled at him. As he pulled her toward himself, she noticed me standing next to the car's door. She gasped and froze in place.
The guy asked, "What is it, Honey?"
Staring at me, she replied, "The guard." She didn't move.
He snapped around with a shocked look on his face. "Oh shit! How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to see you get a blow-job. Do you know this is private property? Do you know anything about how the gate was damaged?"
He, of course, denied doing any damage to the gate. I told him that since, I couldn't prove he did the gate damage, I couldn't charge him for it. However, he was trespassing, and I would have to call the cops to have him cited for that offense.
Both of them begged me not to call the police.
"I'll consider not calling them. Let's see some ID. I still have to write a report on this incident."
They both handed me their driver's license. It was then that I noticed a wedding ring on his hand but not on hers. Making notes from their licenses, I saw that Mr. Robert Clayton was 28-years-old and lived on the far side of town. Ms. Alexandra Boyd had just turned 18 and had an address just two blocks from the warehouse.
I asked them, "Why did you come here? Why don't you go to one of your homes?"
Mr. Clayton said, "We can't. I'm married, and my wife would kill me. Alex is our baby sitter, and I was just supposed to be taking her home. Please don't call the police."
"And what's your story, Ms. Boyd?" I asked.
Nearly in tears, she said, "I still live with my parents. My dad would ground me forever if he finds out about this. I need to stay home, so I can go to college next fall. He's a hard hearted preacher. He'd cut off my college money, and probably kick me out, if he finds out about this. Please, please don't call the police. I'll do anything, just don't report us.
Pausing to think about it a few seconds, an evil thought came to me. With a broadening smile, I asked her, "Anything?"
Ms. Boyd instantly replied, "Yes, anything."
I returned their driver's licences and told Mr. Clayton, "You stay put. Ms. Boyd, step to the rear of the car, please. We need to talk."
As she got out of the car, Mr. Clayton dropped his head into his hands.
I met Ms. Boyd at the rear of car and leaned on the trunk. She came around and stood about two feet in front of me. Even in the darkened lot, I could see she was a lovely young thing. She stood about 5'6" and weighed something like 120 pounds. Her round face was surrounded by soft dark curls.
I reached out to squeeze both of her tits with my hands. She tensed and stepped back.
I told her, "You can get in the car and leave anytime you like. However, before you get home, I will let your father and his wife will know about this little incident.
"Please, don't." She lowered her head and took a step forward.
This time, when I reached for her tits, she stood still. She had decent sized set of tits. She stood quietly as I fondled them through her bra and blouse. I told her, "I won't call the cops if you do for me what you did for your boyfriend."
"What? I can't.... I don't...."
"I want a blow-job. Don't pretend you don't give head. I saw you sucking him. Now, get busy." My words sounded like orders, as I meant them to.
She hung her head, but slowly kneeled onto the grass, unzipped my pants, and took out my half hard cock. Holding it in front of her face, she stared at it for several seconds. She seemed to be thinking. Then she opened her lips, and slowly took my cock into her mouth.
My cock was fully erect in just a few seconds. I took her head and gently pulled her forward until she gaged. She could only take about half of my cock without gaging.
"Go on, Baby. Suck me off!" I demanded.
Alex started bobbing up and down on my cock, but she didn't suck and used very little tongue. All things considered, Alex gave a terribly sloppy blow-job.
"Come on, girl. Suck it." I demanded.
She tightened her lips just a bit and lightly sucked. Still not a good blow-job, but better than nothing.
