*
Police officer Jocelyn Devereaux loved nailing guys like this. These rich guys in their Lamburgini’s think they own the world. As she emerged from her patrol car and walked up up to the luxury sports car, she thought how much she enjoyed writing these tickets.
“License and registration.”
The man behind the wheel fumbled nervously in his wallet, finally finding the necessary documents and turning them over.
Jocelyn took them, read them, hesitated, read them again, and said, “Steven?”
The man behind the wheel for the first time took a good look at his interrogator and said, “Jocelyn?”
“Yeah, Steven, good to see you. How have you been?”
“It’s good to see you, too. Um, well, except for the moment, I’ve been good. You?”
Jocelyn’s mind flashed back to high school. Steven was someone she knew well, but had not given a lot of thought to, then or since. He had not been the type of guy she normally dated—though looking at his car, she thought that might have been a mistake. Normally, she preferred more athletic men, whom she would systematically break, one after another. She didn’t care if they were sweet and kind or arrogant and egotistical.
She, at 6 feet tall, 160 lbs, had been a star of the track team. She threw the shotput, the hammer, and the javelin. Any boy who dated her learned that they would be bent to her will, physically overpowered and sexually dominated. And she dated many of them. She hadn’t been interested in maintaining any long-term relationships, but rather sought to impose her sexual will on many of her fellow athletes. She did it because she could and, frankly, because she enjoyed it.
Steven had not been an athlete. He was more of a … nerd. He was a lot shorter than Jocelyn but he participated in the sports arena by being the manager of the girls track and field team. They all knew him then, and even a couple of the lesser girls dated him a bit, but he wasn’t the type of guy Jocelyn was interested in breaking, since, to her, at the time, he already seemed emasculated. Still, she and many of the girls could not help but admire his willingness to do the job despite putting up with a lot of ribbing and hazing from the guys.
“Oh, good, Steve, I’ve been good. Look, I won’t write you a ticket today, although normally I would. Just slow it down, okay? You wouldn’t want to ruin a nice ride like that.”
“Uh, thanks.” Steven was in a bit of daze. He never in his life imagined he would run into Jocelyn again, much less as a police officer who was writing him a ticket. She still looked magnificent to him, tall, pretty, and very shapely. He remembered her reputation for making candy-asses of her boyfriends, but frankly he secretly didn’t mind that idea at all. He always thought she was a goddess who deserved to be worshipped anyway. He decided to take a chance and wanted to keep the conversation going before she just walked away.
“It’s okay with me if you write the ticket. I had it coming. I knew I was going too fast. The car is new, so I was kind of seeing what it could do.”
“Apparently, it can do a lot,” Jocelyn replied. Curiousity got the better of her. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but what do you do that you can afford one of these things?”
“Ah, yes, well, I guess you might say right now I am retired. After we graduated, I went to college and got involved in a number of high-tech start-ups of fellow students and professors. Unlike many of them, however, I got out before it all crashed down. Overall, I was pretty smart with my money, if I do say so. I saved it and didn’t spend it foolishly—with this car being the exception. I’m now looking for something to focus my energy on but I am not in a hurry. I don’t actually need to work for a living ever again.”
“Really?” Jocelyn was now definitely thinking she should have paid more attention to Steven in school.
Steven tooked the plunge: “Say, would you like to get together sometime, you know, for old time’s sake?”
“That could be nice, Steven. Why don’t you give me your phone number and I’ll call you.”
Steven hoped for a more affirmative answer than that, but accepted it was probably the best he was going to do. He gave her a card with his number on it. None was offered in return. Jocelyn found the idea of seeing Steven appealing, not least because of his obvious wealth, but wasn’t really sure about it. While she was no longer the immature girl of 16 who only cared about breaking boys’ spirits, one way or another, she was still a very dominant personality. Any relationship was by definition going to be unequal and she wasn’t sure yet how she wanted to play this yet. The two old acquaintances parted company.
The next day, frustrated by his inability to convince Jocelyn to give him her number, he decided to see if he could get himself pulled over again by her. He drove too fast past the same spot at the same time. Sure enough, a police car soon followed him with sirens blaring, he pulled over. As luck would have it, Officer Devereaux got out of that car. Now Jocelyn was annoyed at what she interpreted to be Steven’s disrespect by commiting the exact same violation as the previous day. This time she took a more direct approach.
“Get out of the car, Steven, turn around, and put your hands on the roof.” Steven did as he was told. “Are you trying to piss me off now?” she yelled at him. “Yesterday, you want to go out, today you make a mockery of what I do for a living!”
Steven was now concerned he had overplayed his hand. “No, no, that isn’t it,” he pleaded desperately. “I just wanted to see you again and you hadn’t given me your phone number, so . . .”
“So you thought you’d try to get arrested again by me. Fine. You’re arrested. Spread you legs.” Jocelyn started to frisk him. “If we were going to get together, it was going to be my decision, not yours.” At that moment, Jocelyn was checking at out the waist area of her violator and noticed he was sport a considerable hard-on inside his pants. So he is liking this, she thought.
“All right, let’s sort both of these things out now. First, here is your ticket. You’re paying for this, no more warnings. Second, if you’re serious about wanting to see me, come by at this address tonight. I’ll be driving.”
Steven grinned and Jocelyn, her anger abating, gave him a small smile back. Having a rich boyfriend, who was willing to be controlled by her, could have many benefits she thought.
That night, Steven found Jocelyn’s condo and knocked on the door at the apppointed time. When Jocelyn opened, she was dressed to kill: red blouse and black leather pants. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You cleaned up pretty well yourself.” She meant it. Steven wore a suit and looked good. “Let’s go.” She walked past Steven to the elevator who scrambled a bit to keep up with the long strides of his date. Once they got outside, Steven asked: “Where’s your car?”
“I said I was driving, Steve, but we’re going in your car.” She saw the Lamburghini and headed for it. Steven surrendered the keys and they drove off.
Dinner went well. They discussed the old days from school, people they knew, their respective careers and life events in more detail. They actually found they shared a number of views of those times in common. For example, both had a high degree of contempt for the male athletes on the track team. Finally, they ended back at Jocelyn’s condo.
“Want to come up for a drink?” Jocelyn asked.
“You know I’d love to,” Steven answered with a grin.
Once inside, Jocelyn dropped the pretense it was for a drink. “Why don’t you strip, and let me have a look at you.”
“Uh, you mean right now? Completely?”
“Yes, unless you have other plans?”
“Um, no, okay.” Steven hesitated a few moments more while Jocelyn gazed at him. She had poured herself a drink but hadn’t followed up her offer from downstairs to Steven. She just waited for him to undress. It was clear to him that nothing more would happen at all until he complied. So he did.
Once he was down to his birthday suit, Jocelyn got up and looked him over. Under the circumstances, he couldn’t help but sport a raging erection which he could do little to hide. “Not bad, not bad at all, Steve.” Jocelyn meant that and was referring to the entire package. Steven was not muscular but wiry. Physically, though, he would be no match for her. No fat at all and his cock was at least average in size, if not a little better. It would do.
Joceyln got up and took Steven by the hand and led him to her bedroom. Once inside, she began kissing Steven, while still standing. After a few minutes, she added, “help me get out of this dress.” Fumbling from sheer excitment, it took Steven some time before he was finally able to remove all of Jocelyn’s clothes as she had told him.
She was as fantastic as he had always imagined. Tall, with legs that seemed to go on forever, her ass was substantial but very round and tight, her breasts the size of cantalopes, and her groin neatly trimmed. But what struck Steven more than anything at first was Jocelyn’s muscles. She was actually ripped. Her legs, arms, and chest sported clear muscle development, perhaps not as exaggerated as you would see in a muscle-building magazine, but Jocelyn had clear muscle definition all over.
Once she was completely naked, Jocelyn asked: “Do you like my muscles?”
Steven wasn’t honestly sure what his answer was at first. In his eye, Jocelyn was gorgeous and her muscles didn’t make her any less so. Yet, he thought, she has way more muscles than I do. She clearly can kick my ass, if she chose to. Still, the sight of this tall, pretty, muscled amazon in front of him made his mouth go dry. In the end, he had only one possible answer: “God, yes, you’re stunning.”
Jocelyn walked over to Steven. “I want you worship my muscles Steven.” She then gently but quite firmly pushed down on Steven’s shoulders until he got the message that he was to get down on his knees. Steven wasn’t quite sure what she meant and looked up at her with a slightly quizzical look on his face. Jocelyn towered over him in that position and exuded raw power in the buff, very much including raw sexual power. “Rub them, all over, with both hands, massage the muscles of my legs, feel them as I flex them.”