Let's find out!

Two darts fly out of your nerf gun and hit the cops on the forehead before bouncing onto the floor.

Instantly their hands are at holsters. But before they can draw ther pistols their eyes lock on to the mirror you placed in the entry hall earlier, and they see the marks on their foreheads.

After a second of squinting at the mirrored text, which reads Ryan Ferro's Stripper Cops in tiny letters, their hands move away from their guns and the older man addresses your mother. "Ma'am? Is your son home?"

As if on cue you come down the stairs and ask what they want. To your surprise the female officer springs into action, pushing you back until your ass lands on a chair in the kitchen. "You have been a very naugty boy," she barks... and rips her uniform shirt open, buttons flying through the air as her dark bust pops out inches from your face.

Her breasts aren't as large as your mom's, but her smaller frame makes them look ginormous. Or maybe that's just their proximity. Either way, you can barely see the room you're in around the event horizon of black flesh, which pulls in your gaze as irresistibly as a black hole draws in light.

As you stare, you notice more details about them. Such as the small patches of slightly lighter skin on their tops, like reverse freckles. Or that they're supported by a black bra with deep purple lace. The beautiful way they curve into a deep, inviting cleavage...

But when she pulls back and you become capable of seeing something other than boobs again, you notice something much less beautiful: her partner is strutting over and taking off his shirt too! You desperately do not want to see his flabby old chest so you shout, "Wait! Keep your shirt on."

The male officer looks pissed that you'd order him around, but he looks at his partner before speaking. "You want to handle this yourself?"

"It's one kid and he's not resisting, I got this," she says confidently. "Keep an eye on the other inhabitant, I'll be with you shortly."

After looking you over one more time he heads to the living room with your mom, hopefully not to accost her with an unwanted strip show. But you have no time to worry about that as his far more attractive partner gets back to your very wanted strip show. She shakes off the remains of her shirt, which sends her heavy breasts bouncing around her chest, her bra struggling valliantly to contain them.

Its efforts are soon thwarted as the sexy officer takes it off and spins it over her head before throwing it into the air. It hits the lamp hanging from the celing and stays there, unlike your eyes which quicky return to the gazongas before you. Your personal stripper hefts them proudly, she knows the effect her body has on males and she's not shy about it.

She lets you admire her body for a while, then she takes a step back and peels herself out of her uniform slacks. Their fit is more flattering than a police uniform has any right to be, but she looks even better without them. Unlike the bra she threw at the lamp, her snug white panties form a striking contrast against her dark skin. When she comes back to stand over you, one leg between yours and very close to your groin, you boldly reach out to touch those panties.

"Hey!" she shouts with genuine anger. "I'm a stripper, not a whore."

"And I'm your boss, not a customer," you respond cockily and grope her between the legs.

"I don't care who you are, that's sexual ****!" Furious, she rips you out of your chair and slams you down on the table. In the time it takes you to get up, she's lunged to her discarded slacks, removed a pair of handcuffs from their belt, and sprinted back to you. Your arms are wrenched behind your back and the cuffs click shut around your wrists as the male cop barges into the room to investigate the commotion.

"Put this bastard in the squad car while I get dressed," she tells him.

He grabs you by a cuffed arm and drags you out of the kitchen while you protest. "You can't arrest me, you're strippers."

"We're stripper cops," he informs you, your mom watching in horror as you're escorted out.