I see what the officer has in mind

"Really, sir? How so?" I ask, still cocking my head ingenuously, allowing my soft blonde locks to caress one bare shoulder.

"Come over here, young lady, and I'll tell you."

"But, officer, I have nothing to wear. Wouldn't that be violating decency laws if I were to stroll out onto a public thoroughfare as I am?" I ask with a sweet smile as I gesture to my nude curves from the other side of the stone wall.

"I'm not yet disinclined to taking you in that way, missy."

I can tell by the tone in his voice he is not in the mood for my foolishness. What I can see of his face in the light of the dying cigarette shows no emotion.

I lower my head slightly and obediently make my way to the wooden gate a metre away. The gate creaks in the late evening silence and I glance around to see if anyone noticed. I close it behind me nonetheless and head toward the idling automobile. The road is devoid of life, save for the constable's lit vehicle.

The stones at road's edge jab at my delicate bare feet as I walk slowly over to the waiting law enforcement officer. I can't help but wrap my arms over my gently bobbing boobs as I step before the man.

He looks at me, tossing the butt of his fag into the stones near my feet and grinding it out.

"This is no time for false modesty, girl. Put your arms at your sides," he instructs.

I do so, and shiver again at the touch of his big hands as they graze my arms as he takes a closer perusal of the goods before him. He hefts my softly curved titties, one in each palm, then reaches one hand down, stroking my heaving belly before he brushes his hand over the bald pad of my pussy.

"Mmm, yess, nothing like young bald beaver," he seems to say to himself more than to me. I shudder and let out a little gasp of air when a finger invades my still gooey snatch.

"Hmmm, seems you've been a busy little girl already," he remarks as he puts his juice-coated finger to his nose. My mouth opens a little when I see him slurp off the stuff with his lips.

"Hope you weren't charging," he says with a sneer, a reference to my Aunt Sophie's prostitution charges.

'Does he know that I had joined her in her hotel visits?' I wonder momentarily, before I see his hand head back toward me. This time his fingers go to my face. The palm of his beefy hand upturned, his fingertips lift my little dimpled chin so I look him in the eyes. I have **** but to look up, he towers above me, nearly a head taller than myself.

My eyes are adjusting to the low light. I can see his intense stare, his strong lips, better now than before. I'm feeling hypnotized beneath him as he speaks further.

"Your auntie was quite orally skilled," he tells me, one of his fingers reaching up to trace my pursed, bee-stung lips. "I imagine she taught you the 'tricks' of the trade, so to speak. Do well, and we can let this incident 'blow over'." He chuckles at his wordplay.

I watch as he backs up and plops himself in the driver's seat of his vehicle, facing me. He undoes his belt and looks at me.

"Right here?" I ask, looking up and down the deserted roadway.

"Well, you do have options, sweetie," he answers, stroking my left cheek.