You drink it.

You're not sure what's come over you.

One he lets go of your hips, your legs give out. You have enough strength of mind to turn and let your body fall along the tree, sitting there with your pants down in the grass, breathing heavily.

When he hands you the condom, you don't even think. You just grab it, turn it over and empty it down your greedy gullet. It's only after you enjoy that taste that you realize just how gone, out of control your mind really is.

"That's a good little slut." He muses, voice soft despite the harsh words. You flush. You're proud of him calling you good, and even prouder to hear him call you a slut.

What's wrong with you?

Pulling up his pants and tucking his dick up so that the buldge of his still semi-erect cock wasn't apparent, he pulled out a pad from his pocket. "If you ever wanna go again..." He muses, pulling a pen from his shirt pocket and writing an address and a phone number on the paper. "...find me here, or call me."

"Fuck you." You sound disgusted. You are disgusted.

But in him, or yourself?

You take the card anyway.

"After all that lip." He replies, clearly amused. So proud of himself.

With that, he leaves. For a bit, you just sit there, exhausted and exposed, in a haze. But eventually, you see the lights of his cruiser disappear into the night, and you **** yourself up on your shaky legs.

"You alright?" Alex asks as you catch up to him.

"Go fuck yourself." You say, voice dripping with venom. You're so angry with him, encouraging you to take his offer. You should be mad at the cop as well, but you're mostly mad at him for whoring you out to get out of a ticket. And you can't exactly be mad at the cop, and you wish to god you knew why. "Take me home." You say, flatly. You don't care that you're going to be going home to a place that won't see you as John Doe anymore. You need to get away from him. You can't believe you let him put his dick in you!

You both get in the car.