On an icy road in the dead of winter

You sigh as you maneuver your 2003 Ford Taurus down the rural roadway, parting light tufts of snow around the car as you speed. The sky above you is gray like volcanic ash.

You can't seem to recall the last time you've seen the sun.

"Yeah, real edgy," you grimace as you shake away the observation. You switch on the car radio.

"... so call 1-800-224-"

You shut off the radio.

A pair of flashing lights draws your attention to your rear-view mirror. The vague silhouette of a police interceptor shimmers behind you in the falling snow.

"Fantastic," you mutter as you slow the car down and pull over to the side of the road. The police cruiser does the same, red-and-blue lights smearing the falling flakes of snow with their artificial glow.

You hear the door to the police car open and close. The cop seems small, rather short for an officer of the law. Then the officer begins walking towards your car and you can see the rough outline of her face. You raise your eyebrows. You've seen female police officers before. They're becoming increasingly more common, but this is the first time you've ever knowingly interacted with one of them.

The woman reaches your window and you lower the glass. Sharp, cool air claws past your face and into your well-heated car like a shopper on Black Friday.

"License, registration and proof of insurance, please," she says matter-of-factly. You look at her for a moment, drinking in the sight of her deep blue eyes and creamy white skin. Her short, light blonde hair is pulled behind her head in a bun. You've messed around with quite a few attractive girls in your college, but none of them hold a candle to this achingly beautiful policewoman who's just pulled you over.

"They're in the glove compartment. Is it okay if I reach over there?" you reply slowly.

Her expression softens for a moment and she nods at you. You lean over and open your glove compartment, sifting the through the mess of gas station receipts and fast food napkins until you find what you're looking for.

"Do you know why I stopped you today?" the woman asks.

"No, but I feel like you're gonna tell me," you quip sarcastically and hand over your documents.

She takes a long look at your license and frowns. She seems to reevaluate you.

"You were going fifty in a thirty-five mile-per-hour zone, Mr. Greene" she says, looking down at you with cold blue eyes. She holds your paperwork up for you to see. "And you're driving with an expired license."

"Seriously?" you raise your eyebrows. "I could have sworn I had another month before I had to go to the DMV."

She doesn't look impressed. "You seem to make a lot of bad decisions, David. The roads are icy this time of year. You could have seriously hurt someone or yourself. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking the bar was closing and I wanted to go home," you say, realizing the error of your statement midway through making it.

"Have you been drinking?" she says, voice somehow colder. She takes your silence as confirmation. "Alright, I'm gonna need you to step out of the car so I can administer a Breathalyzer test."

You sigh. It's been a slow day and you've only had a couple of beers. Not nearly enough to push your blood **** content above the legal limit.

Refusing a Breathalyzer test is just as good as getting charged with a DUI, so you open the door to your car. It squeaks noisily and you remind yourself to coat the hinge with some WD-40 when you get home. If you get home.

You step out of the car and stand upright. The officer is standing a few feet away from you. She's wearing a bulky police-issue winter coat and unflattering uniform pants, but you can glimpse faint outlines of her athletic figure beneath the thinner areas of her clothing.

Your manhood begins to stir. Unbidden thoughts of pinning the officer on the hood of your car and having your way with her in the middle of the snowstorm stream through your mind. You bite your lip, hoping the officer doesn't notice your arousal.

"Okay I'm going to ask you to breathe into this," she holds a black-and-white device in front of you that looks like the sort of remote control some people have for their ceiling fans.

You move to comply with the officer, but before you can do so, the device slips from her grasp and falls onto the whitened pavement of the road.

"Dammit," she curses and crouches down to retrieve the item. Then she stills, looking ahead blankly for a long moment as if in a trance. The Breathalyzer remains forgotten on the asphalt.

"Something wrong, officer?" you ask starting to feel a little uneasy.

She looks up at you with wide azure eyes for a short moment and returns to staring directly in front of her. You realize with a start that her face is lined up almost perfectly with your erection that is currently straining the material of your jeans. Your cock twitches.

The blonde looks up at you again and licks her full, plump lips.

"I'll... I'll let you go with a warning, if..." she trails off, but doesn't continue. She glances back at your erection and looks back up at you. She gulps.

Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you, entirely uncomprehending of what exactly is going through the crazy woman's head.

"Uh, if what, officer?" you grasp at the promise she's just made.

"If..." she trails off again and swallows, seemingly working up the nerve to tell you what is on her mind. She seems to succeed because her eyes focus on yours with an intensity you've never seen in a woman before.

"I'll let you off with a warning if you pull down your pants and show me your dick."