The Arrest

My 21 year old wife Misty was woke up by the slam of the motel room door. Her head hurt. Her pussy and ass hurt. The taste of cum was in her mouth. Her body covered by sticky cum. She had been stripped down to her sheer black nylons.

“Damn, I got fucked and don’t even remember,” she mumbled.

She looks at her watch. It was after 10:00 PM. I was working the 2nd shift at the time and usually got home by midnight. She stumbled from the bed and collected her clothes. No time for a shower. She quickly washed some of the cum off with a wash cloth, pulled her long blonde hair back in a tight ponytail, then quickly dressed. On her way out she grabbed the package her brother sent her there to get off a table covered in whisky bottles and beer cans. Putting it under her leather coat, she quickly walks to her car, unaware she is being watched.

She drives slowly through the down town streets. On the expressway she drives a steady 60 M.P.H. Almost home. She carelessly rolls through the stop sign. Blue lights instantly come on behind her. She pulls over. Nervous, she waits, lighting a cigarette, hoping he doesn’t search the car. Sgt. Tyrone Jackson walks up, flashlight in one hand, the other on his gun. Rolling the window down her cigarette smoke escapes along with the smell of her perfume. The smells are also mixed with booze and the musky aroma of dirty sex.

“I need to see your license please,” the cop requests.

She hands them over. He returns to his cruiser to radio in her information. She wonders when the local police hired a black cop. Being in the rural deep south, that was not common at the time. She put her sunglasses on, then opened her coat. Adjusting her v-neck sweater, giving him a good look down her shirt. He returns and does. She notices his cock growing, being face level with the bulge in his tan uniform pants.

“Mrs. Jones, how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Not much, why?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the car.”

“Why?”

“Sobriety test.” He opens her car door. She carefully gets out and walks to the front of the police car. A cold light rain starts to fall. He puts her through the paces of the sobriety test. Walking toe to heel, counting out loud, balancing on one foot, doing the finger to nose thing.

“Mrs Jones, you’re under arrest.”

“But I’m not drunk! This is hard to do in high heels!” He shines his flashlight down at her feet. Studying the sexy black peep toe pumps.

“Take them off. You can try again.”

“No way! It’s freezing and wet out here. And I got a new pair of hose on.”

“That’s fine, we have a nice cozy place at the jail. You can look forward to taking them off when you get there. Now take your coat off.” He takes hold of the leather trench coat, helping her out of it.

“Oh it’s so cold out here,” she complains.

“Put your hands behind your head and spread your legs nice and wide for me.” She assumes the pose. About that time, another officer drives up.

“Chuck, I didn’t call for back up,” says the first cop.

“I know you didn’t, but Narcotics wants that car searched.” Misty’s jaw nearly hits the ground, she turns pale with a sick feeling.

“Don’t you need a warrant to do that?”

He then shows it to her. With the shocked look on her face she watches him search her car. Finding the package, he returns to the hood of the police car. Cutting it open he finds a kilo of cocaine.

“We got you now, Mrs. Jones.” Tyrone starts to search her as Officer Chuck Bennit observes. Starting at her shoulders, he moves his hands down her back, under her arms and down her sides. Then her front. He gropes her big tits over her clothes.

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to get a woman to do this?” She complains.

“Don’t you worry none. She will.” Moving down he feels her plump ass. She’s wearing a pair of tight Jordasch jeans.

“You got a good looking ass, Mrs. Jones.” He slaps her big ass. Between her legs he squeezes her pussy. She feels his finger pressing her jeans and panties up into her slit. He kneals and searches down her  thighs and legs. Feeling up her hosed legs as far as her tight jeans would allow.

“Are you a shared wife?” He asks, looking at her gold ankle bracelet.

“No!”

“I love seeing women in high heels,” he comments as he feels her sexy leather pumps. Between his finger and thumb he pulls at the hose between her toes.

“Mrs Jones, are you wearing stockings or pantyhose this evening?”

“That’s none of your business!” Officer Chuck laughs. Tyrone stands back up. He puts the cuffs on her. He then raises her sunglasses, resting them on top of her head.

“Mrs. Jones, you’re a sexy woman.  And you’re under arrest. Your tight jeans, high heels, hose and everything else will come off within the next hour or so. And I’m going to be there to enjoy every second of it.” He placed her leather coat over her shoulders and helped her into the back seat of his car. The wrecker truck arrives and she watches as her Dad’s 1970 Chevy Nova is pulled up onto the wrecker.

“And your car will be impounded and sold at auction.” Misty begins to cry on the ride to the jail. At the police station, Tyrone parades her around and everyone stares.

“We got one of them, chief.” He informs him proudly.

“Take her on to the back. Crocket and Tubs wants to talk to her.”

She is led to a big steel door. A buzzer sounds as the door unlocks and opens. She steps through the door. It slams and locks. Down a long brightly lit hallway she walks. The erotic clicking of her high heels echoed throughout the building. Down the hall was an inmate mopping the floor. He was a big man with a shaved head. He moves out of her way.

“Be careful, miss. The floor is wet.”  Misty ignores him. He pulls his cock out and starts to stroke it. He follows them to a small room. Tyrone takes her coat and tosses it. Her cuffes are removed.

” Have a seat.” The inmate stands in the doorway watching her, still stroking his cock. Crocket and Tubs walk up.

“Don’t you have a job to be doing?” The inmate walks away. And just like an episode of Miami Vice, Misty is grilled over and over, the same questions. Another detective comes in. He looks like somebody Misty has seen before. With curly hair, mustache and 3 day beard, wearing a Hawaiian shirt. He hands over an old V.H.S. Video tape. Tubs puts the tape in and turns on the TV.

They all watch the drug deal go down, then the gang bang that follows. The detective that just left was one of them. Misty had sucked him off that morning. The 3 men in the room had there cocks out, stroking  as my wife was getting her brains fucked out on the TV. After the video that proved Misty was guilty as hell, they offer to cut her a deal. But Misty don’t play that way. No way she could testify against her brother. She was going to jail. Crocket and Tubbs leave the room.

Minutes later, in walks a tall busty red head. She wore a police uniform and a white doctor’s coat. Misty quickly recognized her from high school. It was my ex girlfriend, Connie Willson. Misty watches, concerned as Connie snaps on a pair of latex gloves.

“Well Well, look who we have here,” she comments snidely.

Misty is sloutched down in her  chair.

“On your feet!” Connie barks. Misty stands. Connie kicks the chair out of the way. She sizes Misty up, looking her over from head to toe.

“Empty out your pockets, take your jewelry off. Lose the sunglasses. You’re not a super star in here.” A cigarette lighter and some spare change was placed on the table. Connie watched closely as my wife dropped the sunglasses on the table. Her earrings followed.

“Take that ball out of your tongue! Do you have any more?” Misty lifts her shirt, showing the one in her belly button.

“Take it out in here. It’s going in the trash if I find it later.” Misty takes it out, then she takes the one from her tongue. A wide gold chain, watch and wedding set follow. Misty puts her foot in the chair, taking her ankle bracelet off. Connie rakes all her personal items into an envelope.

“Up against the wall! Spread your legs.”

“But I’ve all ready been searched!”

“Oh no, I’m just starting with you.”

Like before, she starts at her shoulders and moves down. Every inch of her clothing between her shoulders down to her shoes is groped or fondled. Misty thinks the worst is over until Connie’s hands come around her waste. Unsnapping and unzipping her tight Jordasch jeans, her black satin panties come into view. Connie  slips her hand inside her panties, then slips her finger inside Misty’s wet hole. She then pulls out. She pulls Misty’s pants down far enough to show her stocking tops. Tyrone stares and adjusts his cock in his pants. Connie pulls her panties down enough to peek in at her ass.

“Tyrone, back in high school everyone got a piece of this.” She slaps Misty on the ass, watching her cellulite jiggle.

“I can’t believe a fat ass like you was a home coming queen.” Misty then pulls her pants up. She sucks in her belly to fasten them.

“Leave them unfastened, there fixing to come off. Let’s go.”

Back out in the hall. The inmate is still milking his mopping job. He watches Misty approach. Staring at her open jeans, his mouth waters. He’s not had pussy for 6 months. How he would love to have his way with her. She passes him. Her ass sways from side to side. They pass the women’s processing room. Connie leads her in to the men’s cell block. The men go wild. Yelling, whistling. Connie parades Misty around, barely out of arms length of the horny men. Every cock was out being stroked. As she made the second pass back toward the door, hot cum was flying through the air landing at her feet.

Back out in the hall, she is marched in to the women’s processing room. On her left was a holding cell, a mattress lay on the floor. Across the back wall were open showers and toilets. No privacy whatsoever. To her right was a desk, chairs, height chart and camera. In the middle was a large steel exam table. Under it lay a pair of unzipped high heeled boots. A black skirt and white blouse lay next to them. Next to it was a large yellow trash can. A pair of pantyhose and a large white bra hung over the side of it. In the floor lay some socks and panties.

At the desk, Connie takes my wife’s finger prints.

“Okay, it’s picture time.  Step over here. Put your toes on the red line and smile.” Standing in front of the height chart. The camera flashes.

“Turn to the right.” The camera flashes again. Connie then slides a chair over, next to the exam table.

“Have a seat big tits. I’m going to examine you.” Connie walks back over to her desk. She takes out a large tube of lube. Then a digital camera. She hands the camera to Tyrone.