The Night Shift Officer and his Only female Prisoner

The Night Shift Officer and his Only female Prisoner

ZIva had a big evening planned. Her boyfriend was taking her to a cocktail party in the Hollywood Hills at some big shot’s mansion. She was hoping to meet some stars, or even maybe a promoter who would help her already bustling career. She had looked forward to this night for weeks.
But things started to unravel when her boyfriend canceled early in the afternoon of the big day. Something came up with his son in law’s health or some such bullshit. Ziva didn’t really follow what it was but she knew one thing: she was not going to miss this party just because her boyfriend was a flake!
That afternoon, ZIva went to the gym and worked out especially hard so that her already million dollar figure was even tighter than usual. When she got home, she showered, ate a salad for dinner, and got into her slinkiest short little dress, bought just for this evening. Not only was her dress short, showing off her long, killer legs, but it was snug fitting on her firm little frame, showing off her fit body as well as her perky little breasts. Ziva’s deadbeat boyfriend had been trying to convince her to get breast enlargement surgery, but she had resisted. She always loved her perfect breasts, and so do most men she had ever met, and so she put off her boyfriend’s entreats. Was that why he blew her off on this most important night? It didn’t matter, as she was certainly going to the party, and looking a million bucks.
She got into her Camaro and drove to the address. She had the invitation and was expecting to need to show it to gain entrance to such an exclusive event. To her surprise, the man at the door greeted her by name inviting her inside. ‘I guess I am better known than I thought! Web camming is paying off finally, perhaps!’ Thought the young beauty.
As Ziva made her way through the assembly, she felt that all eyes were on her, following her as she wound her way through each room of the mansion like a cat on the prowl. Nearly all the men at the party were older, Ziva guessed in their 50s and 60s. The women fawning all over them, however, were mostly in their 20s, and rail thin. Ziva was glad she had gone to the gym this afternoon, and also that she had worn that tight little dress.
As the evening wore on, Ziva was really enjoying herself. She was certainly the center of attention. All the (older) men lavished her with praises and many gave her their contact info, beseeching her to call them this week. They also poured her glass after glass of fine French champagne. It was a heady mix for the young beauty. By the time people had started to filter into the rooms for various physical activities, ZIva felt it was her cue to go. As she swept out the front door over the protests of the many men present, she asked the doorman to present her car. Her head was swimming from the drink, the company and conversation as she heard the familiar loud exhaust note of her Camaro.
ZIva teetered drunkenly on her 4 inch stiletto heeled strappy sandals that had garnered her so much attention at the party. As great as they had been in getting her noticed this evening, she wished she were wearing a pair of sneakers as she struggled to work the pedals of her car as she sped away from the mansion.
Between her heels and the booze, Ziva was struggling to keep her car in the lane as she wound her way down the canyon back to the city. More than once she heard the sound of the rumble strips under the Camaro’s wide tires, reminding her that she had strayed out of her lane. As she could see the lights of the city ahead, Ziva was grateful to finally get onto some straight roads. As she rounded the last corner, another rumble note under her tires. And then, flashing red and blue lights. ‘SHIT!’ Said Ziva out loud. ‘Well, I hope it’s a male cop!’
ZIva hiked up the hem of her already short dress, allowing a glimpse of her thong panties. Then she unbuttoned the top two buttons of the dress so that her firm little breasts were almost tumbling out. As she stopped her car, she glanced in her rear view mirror. ‘Jackpot!’, she thought. The cop looked like almost a boy, very young, and quite handsome in his uniform. Ziva rolled down her window and leaned out slightly for effect.
‘What’s the trouble, officer?’
‘License, registration and proof of insurance, miss.’
Ziva fumbled for the documents, finally handing them over.
‘Was I speeding?’
The officer looked at the license.
‘You been drinking tonight, Miss?’
Ziva looked in a flirty way that she was so good at straight into the officer’s eyes before saying, ‘Why no. I don’t believe that I have. Why do you ask, Officer, uhm…(looking at his name badge on his shirt) Officer Johnson.’
‘I was following you and you swerved over the center line several times. Can you step out of the car, please?’
As potentially bad as this was, this is where Ziva really excelled. As she opened the door of the Camaro, she slowly slid one high heeled, perfectly pedicured and painted with red nail polish foot out onto the roadway. As she went to get out of the car, her dress went up the rest of the way, now looking more like a long shirt than a dress, completely exposing her red thong panties. Ziva was pretty sure that she heard Officer Johnson gasp at the sight.
‘Miss, I will now administer a series of tests to determine if you are impaired. I am going to ask you to walk heel to toe in a straight line.’
ZIva looked up into his eyes and pouted. ‘But Officer Johnson. You can’t expect me to do that in these little high heels.’
‘I will allow you to take them off.’
Ziva hopped onto the hood of the car again making sure that her thong was completely on view. She then began playing with the strap of one shoe. ‘Oh officer, these heels are brand new. I can’t seem to get the strap undone. Would you be so kind as to do it for me?’
Feeling sure that he had made the right career choice at that moment, Officer Johnson began to play with the strap as his eyes locked onto Ziva’s sexy toes, and her perfect arch. After a few minutes of this, Officer Johnson felt his dick getting hard in his uniform pants. He hoped that Ziva wouldn’t notice. Of course, she did. Lifting the other sandled heel up in the air like an acrobat, Ziva slid it against the officer’s crotch.
‘Is that where you police officers keep weapons?’ Asked Ziva playfully.
Feeling that the situation was getting away from him rather badly and rather quickly, Officer Johnson stood up and released Ziva’s foot. ‘Miss, I am taking you to the station as I believe that you are under the influence. We can complete the sobriety tests there. Lock your vehicle and put your hands behind your back.’
Ziva bent over on the hood of the car with her hands behind her back. Her dress now served pretty much no purpose of concealment as the officer locked the cuffs onto her wrists.
‘Mmmm I do so like being restrained…’ cooed Ziva as the officer put her into the back of the police car.
The ride to the small country police station was fairly short, which was a good thing, as Officer Johnson had a very hard time keeping his eyes on the road. They often drifted to the mirror to see his prisoner. Ziva had slid over onto her side in the back seat and was moaning erotically. Officer Johnson was quite hard by the time they reached the parking lot. He lifted the tiny girl out of the back seat and placed her on her high heels for the short walk inside.
This was not Ziva’s first time. She expected to offer the officer an opportunity to take some photos of her with his phone, maybe even let him grope her a little if necessary in order to be released. As a last resort, a hand job would no doubt do the trick.
Inside the officer removed the cuffs and gently pushed her into one of the only two holding cells in the little station. In the other cell were three large men, snoring loudly, clearly intoxicated.
The officer locked the door to Ziva’s cell and walked over to the only desk in the small building to begin his paperwork. As he typed, he glanced over at cell number 2 from time to time. What he saw made is heart beat faster. Ziva was sitting on the hard bench, her dress still way up, her legs spread fairly far apart, and her high heels on the floor at a seductive angle.
‘I thought you were going to remove my heels so I could show you I am not drunk, Officer Big Johnson.’
‘We will. As soon as I come back from using the rest room.’
‘I’ll be waiting.’
The officer entered the bathroom and approached the urinal. He was just about to start peeing when he noticed there was pre-cum all over him, and inside his underwear.
‘That woman is a witch!’, he muttered.
After finishing his business he returned to the cell area. As he rounded the corner and saw Ziva he stopped and let out a gasp. The lone female prisoner in the station house was still sitting on the metal bench, her legs parted, her high heels showing off her sexy feet, toes, and arches. But her dress was now laying on the floor in front of her. With no bra, those amazing little breasts with hard nipples jutted out at the officer as though they were inviting him to bite them.
‘My dress just fell off. It’s the darnedest thing, Officer Big Johnson!’
‘I’ll uhm, grab you, I mean I will bite, I mean let me get you an orange jumpsuit, Miss.’
By the time he returned with the jumpsuit, the officer’s dick was about to rip through the seam of his uniform. Many thoughts whirled through his head. How drunk are those passed out other guys? When is his replacement coming in to work? Why was his girlfriend such a bitch when it came to sex?
The officer unlocked the door to the cell, fumbling with the key for several seconds.
‘You know, Johnson, I would do anything to get out of here. Do you think I could pay some sort of fine, maybe do some community service for a deserving police officer, something like that?’
That did it. Young Officer Johnson pulled his pants down so fast that he nearly tore them apart. HIs dick, which had never been as hard as it was at this moment, shot out of his clothing like a rocket.
Ziva gasped in shock. Not only at the size of Officer Johnson’s Johnson, but because this had gone further than she wanted. This was not looking like he would be satisfied groping her or taking some photos. Johnson clearly meant to fuck her.
Ziva’s coy, flirty look and tone disappeared to one of alarm. ‘Wait! Uhm, I think you misunderstood! I uhm, I.UHHHHHHHHHH’
In the midst of her protests, Officer Johnson had entered Ziva. ZIva was filled with an intoxicating mix of fear, and ecstasy. Certainly her deadbeat boyfriend was nothing like this! ZIva slapped at the officer briefly in protest before screaming ‘Oh God! Oh God!! YESSSS!’
After several minutes, Officer Johnson felt Ziva cum. And then he felt her cum again. This second orgasm lead him to the brink himself. In a sudden moment of clarity, it occurred to him that perhaps cumming inside a female prisoner in her cell might have bad career consequences. And so as he felt himself start to cum, he pulled out and shot his load all over Ziva’s bare breasts and face. ZIva let out a squeal of shock as she was doused, which the officer thought was probably just shock, or perhaps she came again? Either way, he clearly was not going to cite or arrest this witch.
Getting up and puling up his pants, Officer Johnson walked to the bathroom and returned with some towels. Handing them to Ziva, she wiped herself off.
‘That was, uhm, I mean, you are, uhm, that was like, Jesus fuck.’
‘Are you always this articulate, Officer? If you don’t mind, I am ready to go back to my car. And by the way, I agree with you. It was.’
Neither spoke on the way back to the Camaro. As Ziva got into her car, the officer said, ‘now you drive safe, Miss.’ Then his hand brushed Ziva’s silky hair. And he was gone.
ZIva went home and took a shower and climbed into bed. She had very blurry dreams. The next morning all she could recall of her dreams was that there was a lot of blue and red. And she was very wet.