Fuck da Police (unless they're nice, then treat them with respect, duh)

Lloyd instinctively threw his hands into the air, unfortunately more than familiar with police protocol. He was about to interlace his fingers behind his head and get on his knees when, "You're all good, don't need to be doing all that," someone called out from the driver's seat of the police cruiser.

Lloyd shook himself out of his muscle memory and took a look at the police officer as she stepped out of her vehicle. A comically displaced police hat was perched on her gorgeous nut brown afro as she swayed around the car in front of Lloyd. Jesus, he didn't realize they made heels that tall. Or cop uniforms that small.

He wouldn't call her shorts "shorts." Hell, he could barely call them a belt, but there they were, wrapped tightly around the juiciest bubble butt Lloyd had ever seen in real life. Her top might have been some kind of regulation size before she tied it off under her plump and perky DDs, exposing her frankly deliciously well defined stomach and rich dark skin.

Llyod's eyes had no idea where to stop but managed to settle on her eyes to at least try and show some respect (where he took in her lashes, amazing cheekbones, and what can only be described as dick-sucking lips).

"Sir," said those DSLs, "do you know why I stopped you?"

Her tone rung firm, but understanding in Llyods ears. This was already more compassion than any police officer had ever shown him in the past. No comparison at all to the one time he got put into custody for drunk driving. He was driving his bike back then and was only slightly swearing due to Chuck hitting him so hard over the head that morning that Llyod probably got a concussion from it. The police officer had put him into a cell over night and they had auctioned off his bike the next day in a police auction.

Had she asked him a minute ago if he knew why she'd stopped him, he'd say that his father had been caught trying to defraud elderly orphans with his NFT grift and the cops, naturally, confused Lloyd with his old man. Then she'd probably have punched him in the stomach for talking back and then he'd get booked for resisting arrest.

But now? Today? Life felt... different. So with his new lucky stone in his pocket, he coughed up all hope he still had for karmic justice.

"Because you caught some crime doer guy and need my testimony?"

"Huh, lucky guess sugar!", her plump lips pursed into a laugh. "I need you to come to the station, apparently some punk got caught with a fat stash of snow, if you know what I'm saying, and we got intel that he frequents the same adress you live at. So yeah, I need you to come with me to the station for a little talk."

What?! She wasn't talking about Chuck, was she? That can't be. That asshole never gets his comeuppance, that never happens. This has to either be some weird prank or in the end they'll find a way to pin this all on him. Llyod has been there and done that. Or more correctly, he's been there and Chuck had done that.

"You.... caught Chuck with cocaine?", some doubt seept into Llyods hopeful voice.

"No", oh damn it, "we don't know what it is yet", oh thank god, "but in any case, narcotics are nothing to scoff at. Depending on what you'll tell me, that guy will probably be put away for a loooooong time." She nodded her puffy afro along as she confirmed that Llyods luck really had taken a turn.

"Fuck yes! Hahahaha, yes! Finally! So. Damn. Long. It's finally coming around. Oh, I could kiss you Ma'am, I'm so thankful!", Llyod threw his hands in the air praisingly.

An intrigued smirk on her lips, the ebony cop in her mock uniform asked him, "Could kiss me, huh?"

"Oh, sorry, just a phras-", she gripped him before he had a chance to clear that up. Her lips sealed his and unasked her tongue invaded his mouth and explored it.

"Wow, you're a great kisser", she licked her lips after they parted from another, "You know, I was actually looking for someone.... like you. Lanky, white, downtrodden, exactly my type."

What?! Not only was she describing Llyod to a T, what were the odds of a buxom bombshell like this to be into such a guy as she's describing? Astronomical.

"What do you say hunk, maybe we'll take a little detour before we go to the station?"