O.Z. One-Shots - Competitive Road Head

Tonight, on O.Z. Cops: Officer Pamela Briggs tracks down a gang of competitive drag racers.

Loyal viewers may remember Officer Pamela's previous efforts to penetrate the world of illegal street racing. Her efforts were stymied when her biggest lead came up short (and on her face), without giving her any clues as to the identity of the persons responsible for organizing these hotbeds of gambling, trafficking, and sheer disregard for traffic ordinances.

This time Pamela takes matters (and more) into her own hands as she races to the scene of another reported drag meet... This time, undercover. Our faithful video crew captures the moments as they unfold:

"Who's in charge here?" purred Pamela as she slinked her way out of her souped-up muscle car. Her undercover outfit consisted of a pair of cut-off jean shorts, a crop top, and a whole lot of skin.

A small crowd had been gathering from the moment she pulled up. A tall man came forward from the group of onlookers, flicking his long hair to one side.

"What do you want?"

"I want to race, that's what. Are you the guy who can make that happen?"

The people circling the two started laughing. They all fell silent the moment the man raised a single hand.

"Sure am. Call me Paul. How many G's you got to play with?"

Pamela thought this might happen... But she had come prepared. She opened up her trunk, and lo and behold, there was a suitcase full of hundred-dollar bills... All traceable by the Department of Justice.

"As many as you can carry, babe."

A low murmur of awe rose up from the crowd. Paul smiled the smile of a hungry shark tracking its prey in moonlit waters.

"Easy, boys. Reggie, Damo, James, get your butts over here. Since this is your first time here, Miss...?"

"Rhonda. Rhonda Knowles. And how do you know this is my first drag race?"

"It's your first this side of the state," he shrugged. "This is my game, and I know the players. Now, as I was saying, Miss Rhonda... Since this is your first time, I'll let you choose your opponent from our three best drivers. If you win, we double your money. If you lose, well, better luck next time."

Pam eyed up the three racers arrayed before her. Damo was built like a ton of bricks. Reggie looked like your usual cocky rev-head. James, on the other hand, was unexpectedly young and slight. He was playing with an MP3 player, and seemed to want to blend into the background.

"I pick James."

The crowd roared with laughter, and Paul couldn't help but bare his teeth in a broad grin.

"Alright. James, you're up! And who's racing for you, Miss Rhonda?"

Pam paused, cocking an eyebrow. "I race for myself."

"Nuh-uh. This ain't your grandma's street race; this is competitive road head. Alphas come from all over to pit their hotrods against one another, and each Alpha nominates one Beta to 'distract' their opponent from the front passenger seat. Now, we don't usually get that many women wanting to compete, but we can accommodate you. Just nominate a driver, and he'll ride with James's sister Denise. Unless you're packing a big surprise for us, you'll hop in the car with James here."

Pamela quickly and calmly accepted, to avoid suspicion... But inside, she was rattled. Why hadn't this been included in the intel?

She called up one of her partners from the station, who promptly turned up in street clothes. She'd explained the dire need for steady hands and keen driving skills. If she was going to put the department's money (and her dignity) on the line, she needed the best help she could get. If they could win this race, keep the money, and impress Paul, the secrets of the underground racing scene would open up before their very eyes.

Right now, the only thing opening up before Pam's eyes was James's fly. She was hunched across the center console in his sports car, while he sat in the drivers seat with his junk out.

"Rules are, you can't touch me till the race starts," he said, looking down at her. Then he picked up his MP3 player, untangled his ear buds, and popped them in.

"A man of few words, huh... We'll see how long you can stay in the zone," Pam muttered to herself.

Moments later, the siren sounded, cylinders fired, and engines roared. The sudden G-**** knocked Pam up against James's chest, and sent his long, flaccid dick flying into her face, where she felt it twitch against her lips.

"Mmph. Good start, Rhonda." James murmured from above.

Her competitive spirit flared up inside of her. She dove onto that cock like it was the one thing standing between her and cracking this case wide open. She lapped the sides, flicked her tongue against the head, and did everything she could to bring it to sensitive, distracting life.

What she didn't expect was how long it would turn out to be. James seemed fairly well-endowed to begin with, but the more she sucked the bigger and harder it became. He wasn't even a big guy... Thin, almost wiry... But he was smuggling some serious contraband down below.

How close were they to the finish line? She couldn't see much from her position, except the strobing glare of passing street lights and the cocky smile James was sporting. No, she had to concentrate! Mind on the task at hand... In this case, the task in her hands, and occasionally down her throat.

She massaged his balls with one hand and pumped his monster with the other. Her mouth created a vacuum seal over her opponent's dong, her cheeks hollowing through suction alone. This was her one of her many practiced moves, built up through years of experience on the job and giving 'jobs.

James let out a groan, long and loud. Finally, she'd been able to coax a reaction from that MP3-obsessed nut... Now, if she could get James to nut on her face, that could be just the distraction her partner needed to get their car over the line and win this thing.

Pamela redoubled her efforts, stroking, sucking, licking, tugging. She pulled away to give his balls a tongue-bath, then popped his cockhead back into her mouth. In a last-ditch effort, she ripped open her top and pressed her breasts up against the pole in front of her. With her mouth on top and her tits down below, she started to hum... And James started moaning uncontrollably. Pam had never met the man who could outlast her humming blowjob/titjob combo, and James would be no exception.

He came into her mouth with the **** of a V8. The blast of cum was so strong it knocked back her head and plastered over her face, hair, and the rest of her upper body. She felt the car slowing down as James took his foot off the accelerator. Now they were just coasting along; she'd done it.

When James regained his senses, he turned the car around and drove it back to Paul, who was surrounded by a cheering throng. Pam slipped out and strutted over to him, not caring about the thick coating of splooge dripping from her exposed tits, neck, face, and hair. For her right now, it was a mark of victory. Her confidence was shaken, however, when she realized that Paul was still smiling that same predatory grin.

"Well?" said Pamela. "I've shown you I can ride with the best of them."

"I'm sure you can, Miss Rhonda. It's a shame you weren't able to bring James off before the finish line," he laughed. "...Oh, don't look so surprised. We were wondering why James kept speeding off into the distance once he drove on through... Turns out he was finishing up all over you. As for your driver, well, Denise proved too much of a distraction for him."

Paul gestured over to where her partner had just pulled up. He was red in the face, clearly embarrassed about losing... But he still had business to attend to. He got out of the car, walked around it, and pulled Denise from the passenger seat. Then he bent the buxom 20-something over the car and lined up his dick, which was still hard and unsatisfied from all the teasing she must've been giving him. Denise was smiling ear to ear, but when Pam's partner entered her from behind, that smile soon turned into a lip-biting look of satisfaction. She moaned softly as the undercover cop plowed her, Pam's car rocking with each firm thrust.

Thankfully, that night wasn't a total loss for Officer Pamela Briggs. She had established a rapport with Paul, who gave her his contact details in case she ever wanted to try her luck again. The loss of the suitcase and the marked money inside, while regrettable, enabled the department to trace the flow of cash and establish the true extent of the underground network.

For her part, Pamela was awarded the Pearl Necklace, for her unwavering sense of duty in the line of fire.