Roleplay Read online

  ROLEPLAY

  By

  Megan Ziese

  © copyright by Megan Ziese, 2010

  Cover Art by Eliza Black, May 2010

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Chapter One

  Sucking in a sharp breath of cool air, Claire shivered as the frigid air teased her skin and effortlessly penetrated the thin material of the short silken blouse she was wearing. A sudden gust of whip-like wind scored the exposed skin of her belly and teased the hardened peaks of her nipples until goose flesh rippled all over her, more specifically on her torso and legs. Damning her earlier choice of her sexiest fishnet pantyhose instead of stockings, which might or might not have helped to stay off some of the cold penetrating her body, she walked through a breezeway and another blast of cold air assaulted her scantily-clad body. Continuing to 'stroll' down the sidewalk with as much ease as she could muster, she paused at the corner of the street near a traffic light.

  Earlier in the night, before she'd set out to walk the street, she'd pinned her hair up, but it hadn't taken her long to take it down to try to garner some warmth from the heavy locks that now covered her shoulders and back. She'd always been told that her hair was one of her most beautiful features. It was long, wavy, inky-black hair, and flowed down to around the middle of her back. Right now she was thankful it covered some of her exposed midriff. But as she quaked with shivers, she realized they weren't just caused by the cold, although the chill did add to her emotions. When all of that was combined with burgeoning excitement and butterfly nerves, Claire realized that she hadn't felt so alive in years. Thrilling feelings of naughtiness raced through her blood, and it felt wonderful. For the first time in a long time, she felt free, felt wild abandon. It was exhilarating.

  Standing on the corner, she struck a pose in front of an empty lot. A car passed by, hovered beside her momentarily, and the driver called out obscenities and pressed his hand to his crotch as he drove on. Glaring at the back the car as it sped down the road, Claire ignored the remarks, waiting for another customer. It wasn't long before another car crawled alongside the curb. It was a dark car and until it braked underneath the street light, when she caught a glimpse of the driver, there was a specter-like quality to the whole scene. The man driving the vehicle was shrouded in darkness until the car shone in the reflective glare of the signal above.

  "Need a date?" he asked, his voice low, husky. The rasping timbres of his voice shivered along her nerve endings, sparking tingles of pleasure across her entire body in expectation of things to come.

  Claire casually stepped closer to the man's car, all the while checking to ensure the coast was clear. Spying no one, she leaned down, allowing her breasts to drape on the arm that she rested on the passenger window. Popping her head inside the open window, she smiled coolly when she saw his crotch, illuminated by the street lamp and signal, become constrained. Judging by the bulge in his pants, he had a hard-on that rode half of his thigh. Her pussy clenched hungrily. She wanted that hard cock to fill her empty channel. With a wanton smile, she licked suddenly parched lips and glanced at his face. Partially covered by the shadow, she couldn't see the look on his face or the look in his eyes. She wished that she could see his arousal for herself, not just by the length of his dick, but in the intensity of his eyes, the tenseness of his jaw.

  With a husky voice to match his, she breathed, "I could use some company." She stood slightly and playfully pinched her erect nipples, continuing to speak as she did so, "It's awful cold out here. There's no fun, either," she pouted as she cupped her breasts and pressed them together more fully, knowing full well that they were close to falling out of the skimpy top she was wearing.

  "How about I warm you up, sweet thing?" he asked suggestively, getting out of his vehicle and coming around to the side where she stood.

  "Oh, that sounds nice," she cooed.

  "How much is your time worth, baby?"

  Batting her eyelashes coquettishly, she murmured, "Hmm, I think twenty will suffice." Rubbing a hand along her thigh to raise her skirt more fully, she whispered, "A twenty will get you anything you want, honey."

  Claire watched as he pushed a hand into his tight pocket, grabbed his wallet, and opened it up to take a twenty dollar bill from the inside. She watched his hand clasp the bill, waiting for his next move.

  He leaned over her and pressed the money between her breasts, his lust filled gaze never straying from her breasts as he watched them envelop the cash.

  "What should I call you?" she asked tentatively.

  "Dylan. And what might your name be?" he inquired softly, allowing his hand to wander from her breasts, up to her neck to fondle the delicate shell of her ear.

  "Claire," she responded.

  Grasping her neck, he traced the lobe of her ear with his thumb, softly stroked the soft velvet of her cheek. Pulling her toward him, he kissed her hungrily, searing her with a kiss that immediately burned a path from her belly down to her channel.

  He smoothed his hands down her back to her butt, which he squeezed between his palms. Keeping hold of her butt cheeks, he pressed her to him and walked backwards so that they moved together towards the car. He turned them around so that her legs were leaning against the car now. Lifting her slightly so that she sat on the front of the car, he spread her legs as far as the confines of her skirt would allow her and stepped between them.

  Taking a glance down her body, Dylan couldn't help but feel a deep hunger at the sight of her long toned limbs, legs that were currently adorned by a tight skirt that nearly exposed the curve of her butt, and the taut belly that was covered by a minuscule and flirty top. For thirty-five she looked hot.

  He slid a hand along a smooth calf covered in fishnet, skimmed the knee and rode along the length of her inner thigh till he reached the apex of her thighs. His fingers hovered there, almost expectantly, and, as his eyes met hers, visible only from the lights in the street, he moved them to her bare pussy, pleased that she hadn't worn any underwear.

  She moaned, her neck falling backwards as his fingers unerringly reached her clit, only to rub it and pinch it. Pleasure coursed throughout her body, sizzled through her veins, making her blood sing.

  Two fingers found their way into the entrance of her pussy.

  She started to rock her hips, tried to force his fingers deeper, further into her weeping cunt. She cried out as Dylan just continued to torture her clit and kept the fingers penetrating her still. She arched her back, placing stress on the already taut material she was wearing, forcing her breasts to escape the confines of her bodice, her erect nipples painfully sensitive in the cool night air.

  She saw his smile in the light of the street lamp as he leaned over her to bite down on her taut nipples. She couldn't help the squeal that escaped her when his hot mouth touched her cool flesh. She felt him chuckle against her breast as she arched her hips again, hoping that he'd touch her further. She needed his fingers deeper inside of her.

  Taking his hands away from her, he put them to his fly, opened it, and exposed his cock to the night air.

  Watching him jack his dick for a few moments, Claire couldn't help but feel cheated. She wanted that dick in her cunt! Testing the constraints of the skirt she was wearing, she tried to spread her legs even further apart, exposing her pussy, wet for him, to his gaze. She hoped to tease him, to entice him to touch her once more. She saw him react, but only slightly.

  His hand stilled, but he continued to pleasure himself as he looked at her pussy.

  Pou
ting because he wouldn't play fair, her hand sneaked down. If she could just rub her clit, it would be alright.

  As soon as her hand reached her slit, his moved quickly and slapped her hand away.

  Fidgeting, she whimpered, "Please, oh please, Dylan."

  "Why shouldn't I just cum all over you?" he asked.

  "Oh God, look, I'm wet for you. I'm so wet I can feel it slipping down my thighs. Please fill me?" she moaned, arching her back in frustration as she tried to get her pussy closer to his cock.

  "Do you deserve to be pleasured?"

  "I . . . I," she hesitated, quickly calculating what response would please him most. She answered softly, "I deserve anything you want to give me."

  She saw the pleasure in his smile and knew that she'd answered correctly.

  His hand stroked his dick for another moment before it stopped to grasp her hips and drag her forward and closer to him. He leaned down over her, cupped her butt to tilt it at the right angle and then, right there, in the middle of the street, thrust deeply into her hungry cunt.

  She screamed into the night.

  He quickly placed a hand over her mouth to quiet her.

  She bit down onto his palm while her hips rode his cock.

  He fucked her roughly, plunged deep into her, used her cunt for his pleasure.

  But it fed her own, fed her need, a need that she'd never before realized she'd had.

  His hand never touched her pussy, never even went near her clit, but nevertheless she soon neared a climax. He kept her on the pinnacle, right on the knife's edge, only started to rub his pubic bone against her clit when he neared his own orgasm. Her excitement was such that the flooding of cum deep into her cunt sent shock waves of pleasure through her pussy, touched nerves that had never been hit before and, with that, she climaxed. Head flung back, mouth gasping, eyes closed tight, her hips continued to ride the waves of her orgasm.

  She didn't pass out, but her nerves felt burnt, her pussy used, her body tired, her mind exhausted. The next thing she felt was Dylan pulling out. She vaguely registered the sounds but was too out of it to really care what he was doing.

  She lay back against the hood of the car, legs spread open, pussy bare to the night air. Closing her eyes, she didn't have a care in the world.

  A cough sounded loud behind her, causing her whole body to jump. Horror filled every nerve ending as she opened her eyes and saw flashing lights start up behind the vehicle she'd just had sex on out in the open.

  Quickly closing her legs, scooping her breasts back into a bodice that reluctantly accepted them, she sat up.

  Her eyes were wide open in fear as she gulped the question, "How's it going officers?"

  As the two officers approached, she saw that one was a man and one was a woman. When they stood directly in front of her, she didn't want to look them in the eye and she was able to read their name tags, R. Williams and A. Williams. It briefly occurred to her that it was strange that they had the same last name. But, at the moment, she couldn't care less. She was in deep shit. Her mind raced with fear. What was going to happen to her and her husband? She thought about her kids spending the night with her mother. If she got arrested, how was she going to explain this to her mother? She'd told her they were going out to a nice restaurant. She was consumed with morbid embarrassment. At any moment her face could combust it was so hot. She was never going to be able to live this moment down, not as long as she lived.

  "Get off the car, ma'am," the male officer commanded in a voice that brooked no argument.

  Feeling the heat of her face intensify in horror, she slid off of the hood of the car and stood up. She raised beseeching hands and opened her mouth to start to explain, when the female cop said, "Best cuff 'em and search for concealed weapons."

  Standing stiffly, eyes wide, she held out hands, eager for them to see her as compliant.

  The male officer walked towards her, cuffed her, and then told her to lean against the car.

  The female officer did the same to Dylan.

  Claire was surprised when the officer practically groped her as he cupped her butt and then smoothed hands over her bodice and touched her cleavage. Wasn't it plain for all to see that there was no room for anything in any part of her outfit?

  The officer's husky voice rang loud and clear in the quiet of the night, "You're under arrest for soliciting."

  The metal of the car door was cold against her feverish and clammy flesh, it was a shock to the system that didn't assuage her panic. No matter how much she tried to figure out a way out of this hellish nightmare, fear threatened to choke her, and it took all her might just to stand there and wait for the officer to proceed.

  She jolted in alarm when his hands finally touched her. A slight tremble overtook her limbs, a persistent weakness that she couldn't afford to have.

  Firstly, they drifted over her calves and up her thighs.

  Her eyes flickered everywhere, unsure of what was happening, she'd never been frisked before. Her legs were bare, apart from the pantyhose, so surely it was apparent that nothing could be hidden there. It was such a complete contrast to how she'd thought a body search would be that her fear doubled rather than lessened.

  His hands were caressing, not clinical and detached, not just searching for a concealed weapon, but touching her in what felt like a sexual manner. Fear mixed with excitement, a killer combo in itself, yet mixed with the arousal his touch inspired and her heartbeat didn't just double in speed, it trebled. Adrenaline raced through her blood, darting slivers of pleasure over her flesh.

  His hands smoothed over her butt, squeezing the cheeks, then groping her so that they spread wide.

  Rocking his hips against her ass, she felt the hard press of his aroused cock in the channel that he'd created. She tensed, totally unsure of how to react. When his hands slid over her tight bodice and reached up to cup her breasts, at first gentle and then rough, she shuddered slightly with delight. Despite her uncertainty, she was totally nonplussed with this whole situation. Her body was still hot, still reeling from her earlier climax, and to be touched in this manner was both exciting and worrying. Should she really be enjoying this? This man was a police officer. He could arrest her, was probably going to, and yet he was taking advantage of the situation to touch her up. What the hell was happening?

  Confusion combined with lingering lust to make her head reel. A caress between her inner thighs made her shudder. When once more he rocked into her, rubbing his dick against the smoothness of her leather skirt, she moaned softly.

  The officer took the reaction for what it was, and his husky voice rang loud and clear in the quiet of the night, "You're under arrest for soliciting."

  He then proceeded to read out their Miranda rights.

  If the man hadn't been holding her, she would have fallen in a dead faint. But, unfortunately, he was holding her. At least if she'd fainted she could've temporarily escaped this nightmare. She was never going to do anything but missionary again for the rest of her life! She just wasn't cut out for all of this excitement and danger. Of course, when she'd planned on role playing with her husband, she hadn't ever imagined they'd get caught . . . or arrested.

  Claire cried out, interrupting the officer, "Please, Officer . . . ?"

  "Name's Riley and she's Audrey," he said pointing to his female partner.

  "Please, officer Riley, officer Audrey, I'm not a prostitute! We're married. This is all just a crazy misunderstanding," she said.

  Officer Riley continued to read them their Miranda rights.

  Claire cleared her throat and said, "Look, it was just a sex game. We don't usually do this sort of thing. Honestly, you can ask my mother. She's at my house right now watching our kids, for God's sake." When he continued, she spoke again, her voice rising with hysteria, "This can't be happening. Oh my God, we can't go to jail. Oh my God, we're going to go to jail Dylan!"

  When Dylan didn't say anything, she felt panic setting in. She didn't need to panic right now. That woul
dn't solve anything. She took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

  "She's telling the truth," Dylan said.

  Claire almost sobbed with relief when she heard Dylan's voice. She knew he would find the solution to this nightmare situation they were in.

  "Look, maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement," he suggested.

  For a minute, Claire thought that the panic she'd been experiencing must have fucked her brain up because she thought she'd heard her husband suggest something illegal.

  "What did you just say?" she asked him. She needed him to repeat himself. She was sure he hadn't just said what she'd thought he'd just said. He couldn't have. He wouldn't have.

  "Maybe we can come to an arrangement," he repeated.

  This was it! Her life was over! Not only did the police think that she was a prostitute and he was soliciting, now he was going to add to their charges with bribing an officer. This night couldn't get much worse.

  She gulped back fear when she saw officer Riley's eyes narrow.

  Riley's voice was raspy as he asked, a curious note to his voice, "What kind of arrangement?"

  Dylan was quick to explain. "We've got a cabin here, just outside of the city limits . . . ."

  Officer Audrey spoke up then, her voice harsh, "Are you attempting to bribe officers of the law with sex, sir?"

  Claire began to gasp like a fish out of water. "No! No, of course we're not! We would never do anything like that officer . . . ."

  Dylan interrupted her. "Not bribe exactly, officer. I was just thinking that we could come to a mutual agreement that would please all parties involved."

  The officers looked at each other, Riley raised a brow in question when Audrey smiled slowly and nodded. He answered Dylan, "Alright." Grabbing Claire by the cuffs, he led her over to his vehicle, cupped the back of her head as he pushed her into the car then stood back as his partner did the same with Dylan.

  When the officers closed the doors, Claire hissed, "What the hell are you doing, Dylan?" But she received no answer as both cops opened their doors and sat down in the front.