My toes curled in my shoes, my pussy clenching, growing so juicy. I stared down at my crotch, my black curls framing the base, my pussy lips stretched...over it.I had a cock. I made a wish and—A silver Porsche 911 raced past me. My radar gun beeped. 93 MPH.“That fucking bitch,” I snarled, throwing my radar gun onto the passenger seat, flipping on my lights, and hitting the gas.It was her. Portia Davenport racing northbound now instead of southbound. My cop car screamed out onto the highway, my. Pat had fancied Ian just about since he started working at the pub and she sometimes flirted with him, but as his response never seemed all that enthusiastic, she assumed that he was not interested in her. She knew that because of her age and size she was not every man's idea of a potential fuck, but she wished that Ian would find her attractive.Actually, Ian did find her attractive, but he liked and needed his job and he did not think that he would keep the job long if Cyril thought that he. More

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