THE PSO (Phone Sex Operator)

Officer Jones & A Distraction

We climb into the backseat. Luckily Nate drove an SUV, so we had plenty of room amongst the cream interior. The windows were also blacked out, other than the two at the front along with the windscreen. I slide to the opposite seat, back against the door as I watch him get settled.

“Just in case this gets a bit too much, you familiar with traffic light system?” he asks, analysing my expression closely, his own completely serious as he searched my features.

He was in cop mode.

Zach would be so jealous right now.

“Yes.” I nod eagerly. “Green for go. Red stop. I’m fine, Nate.”

“That’s Officer Jones to you, suspect.”

He takes off his hi vis, before removing the equipment attached to his uniform. He does it patiently, methodically, as if he had all the time in the world.

I wonder if he gets off on watching me stir. I fiddle with the strings on his hoody I was wearing, watching his fingers, nimble and precise, wishing it was my body he was taking apart instead.

He places them one-by-one in storage pocket on the back of the front seat and then turns to me, back against the door with an arm resting on the top of the seat. He kept his vest on, although he’d unzipped it. Underneath was a dark short sleeved button shirt, the first few undone. I wanted to jump him already, but I held back. I loved it when he took control.

Nate’s eyes lazily roam over my body before coming to a stop at my torso. He nods at it. “Lose the hoody.”

Reaching down, I grab the hem in my hands before pulling it over my head, leaving me in my sports bra with a zip on the front.

He tuts at me. “Eager little thing.”

Yeah, ok. I did rush to get that off pretty damn fast.

“Those too.” He gestures to my lower half. I strip my leggings off just as quick, along with my trainers. “Good girl. Now come over here and undo me.” He points to his black trousers.

Dressed in only a gym bra and a black thong, I crawl towards him. His legs rest diagonally towards the middle seat, feet in the footwell and upper body twisted in my direction. I kneel by his hip, smoothing my hands along his legs.

His hands grip my wrists. Not enough to hurt, but he wasn’t gentle either. My eyes fly to his but his expression gives nothing away. “Did I say you could do that? That’s strike 1. You get 3. Take anymore liberties and I won’t be so kind.”

My lips part in surprise. Not only because he was impressively in character, but also from how wet it was making me. He seemed so cold and detached, a stark contrast from the last time we did this...but I loved it. Right now, I was only an object used for his pleasure. Knowing all I had to do was utter a single word and he’d got back to the sweet, loving Nate I knew, made it all the more better.

“Sorry, Officer Jones.” I hold back my smile and move my hands to his belt buckle once he lets me go.

I make quick work of it. He lifts his ass so I can slide the material down his thighs. His erection bounces free, half mast. Unable to resist I reach for him, only for him to stop me once again.

“That’s strike 2.” He shakes his head. “You really like breaking rules, don’t you, suspect? Keep pushing me. I can get real creative,” he drawls lazily. “Do it one more time I'll make you sit on my gearstick - and no, I don't mean my dick.”

My eyes widen and I flick them to the console in between the seats at the front of the vehicle. It was leather and wider at the top. I picture myself kneeling over it, how embarrassing and humiliating it would be, especially if someone were to walk by and see, all whilst Nate praises me...or tells me how bad I was. I let out a shaky breath as a fresh bolt of arousal fires through me.