Forced to Comply

Forced to Comply

This is a quickie that I wrote based on a handsome cop I met a long, long time ago. Here is a small taste:

His strong body pushed against mine, pinning me to the side of the car. His hand slid under my shirt and grabbed one of my breasts. Delicately but insistently he held my nipples between his fingers, rolling them and teasing them softly, moving from one to the other.

I was breathless. I hadn’t been touched like that since I broke up with my cheating douche-bag of a boyfriend months before, and I had missed the way it felt to have a man’s hands on my. Maybe it was just because everything in my life had been so messed up lately, or maybe it was just because the situation was so strange, or perhaps it was just because a handsome cop had handcuffed me and was groping my breasts, but I was instantly and intensely turned on. The stress of the week, my outrage and anger – everything entirely dissipated. All I wanted was for him to touch me more and more.

While one hand remained clasped on my tit, two fingers lightly pinching my nipple, his other hand slid down over my hip, until it slipped underneath my skirt. I drew in a trembling breath as I felt his hand caressing the inside of my thigh. Slowly. . . oh so slowly . . . it climbed up my legs, until it reached my ass.

Like all my stories, you can find this one on

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