Resting Place

Pre-Murkoff! Coyle who pulls you over late one night because you were “speeding”, asking you to get out of your car for a routine traffic stop before cuffing you and bending you over the hood of his police cruiser. Your head is pushed against the cool metal, cheek scraping lightly with every rough thrust as he fucks into you from behind. “You better thank me sweetheart, thank me for using this tight pussy instead of writing you a ticket.” You choke out a helpless “Thank you-“ as he continues his relentless assault on your pussy. “Atta girl. Young sluts like you always need to be taught some manners.” His grip on your hip tightens, fingers bruising as he drives into you harder, the sound of skin slapping skin loud in the empty night. “You kids think the law’s a joke. Somebody’s gotta remind you what happens when you forget who’s in charge.” He leans over you, chest pressed to your back, breath hot against your ear. “This is what happens when you ignore the law.” And with a few more harsh thrusts you feel the warm ropes of his load flood your womb. “You’ll remember this the next time you think you can ignore the rules,” he mutters. “That’s what people like you need. A reminder. A little fear. Something that finally sticks.”