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For this story to make sense, I urge you to read my story “Cuffed and Stuffed” first. Thanks! “What is it with men?” she lamented, as the bartender set our drinks down; she being Sandy, a former trainee at the police academy where I am an instructor. “Why do they think that they always have to make the first move?” Sandy and I had become friends when I was her instructor at the academy, and she had ended up confiding in me her need to be in control, especially when it came to sex, as a result of an unfortunate incident that happened to her several years back. As part of a self-prescribed “therapy”, we had some unconventional sex on the desk in a classroom. Unfortunately, it was a one-of incident, as we had inadvertently left behind some conspicuous evidence of our coupling that got me an informal reprimand from the academy director and an injunction against any further sexual escapades with trainees; especially on classroom desks. We continued a loose friendship, re-kindled whenever she came back for continuing-ed sessions, but our schedules never allowed for anything else. However, one night after an eight hour CE session on false arrest, we both had no calendar conflicts and were enjoying some happy hour cocktails. I contemplated her question, and replied “You know, we’re the hunter/gatherers. We’re hard wired to act first.” Pausing, I then asked what had happened to bring it up. “Well, you know my little ‘problem’ about relationships. I tried to be the initiator, but got almanbahis şikayet the ‘slut’ label hung on me pretty quick. Plus the ‘kinky’ label when the guys I asked out learned that sex was to be a little more ‘restrained’ than expected.” “Ouch. I’m sorry. But, you know, had I not known what I did before you and I…well…you know, did what we did, I might have been scared off as well.” “I know, and you were really a friend in a time of need. But, man, it’s just so hard to get something going.” “So, what, are you telling me that our time was the last time…” “Yes! Okay? Yes! It’s embarrassing, let’s change the subject.” So we did; we talked about everything but the weather and the elephant that was not only in the room, but who brought baggage. By the time happy hour was over, we were both a little tipsy, but certainly not happy. I summoned up some courage, took Sandy’s hand in mine and said, “Look, let me just throw this out as an offer; no strings, no expectations, no hurt feelings intended either way. If you have some needs, I know how to help and I’m willing to help.” “Wow. I don’t know what to say. I’ve gotta think on that, but thanks for the offer. Really, I mean that.” Clearly embarrassed, she dropped a ten on the bar for her part of the tab and left. I figured I had really fucked up. I had a couple of more drinks and a plate of wings, then left the bar. I was a little wobbly as I walked towards my pick-up when what looked like an unmarked car pulled almanbahis canlı casino to an abrupt stop behind me. Before I could even turn around to see who was driving, I heard the car door open, and I was being spun and pushed face down across the trunk. A firm hand in the center of my back held me down while another pulled my right hand back and cuffed it. A shift of hands, and now my left hand was cuffed as well. I tried to get up, but was pushed back down, hard. Then an instantly familiar voice whispered into my ear, “Don’t worry, honey, this won’t hurt a bit.” Sandy jerked me to my feet, opened the back door to her car, and pushed me in. As we drove out of the lot under the stares of patrons we both knew, I told her that I had just one request. “What?” she asked. “If I’m going to be on my back again, I really need for the cuffs to be in front.” “Oh, don’t worry; the cuffs will be coming off soon, as long as you promise to behave.” “Okay,” I replied, “you’re in charge officer. I’m at your mercy.” “Gee, where have I heard that before?” We both laughed. Sandy pulled up in front of her small craftsman style house. As she opened the back door for me, she put her blazer across my shoulders to hide the handcuffs. “Don’t want to arouse the neighbors,” she remarked, as she led me to, and then through, the front door. As soon as we got inside and the door closed, she grabbed my head and brought her lips to mine. Remembering the first (and last) time we kissed, almanbahis casino I refrained from any attempt at tongue action. My patience was rewarded as Sandy extended her own, pushing my lips open and exploring my mouth. I tentatively began to reciprocate, until we both engaged in some equal oral give and take. She finally broke the kiss, but the glassy look in her eyes told me that this was just the beginning. “I’ve never brought a prisoner home to my home before,” she said, getting into the control role she needed. “For my own safety, I really need to make sure that you aren’t carrying any concealed weapons. If I un-cuff you, will you promise to keep your hands against the wall while I pat you down.” I smiled and nodded; whereupon she turned me around and unclasped the metal bracelets that held me captive. “Assume the position,” she ordered, but in a voice tinged with just a hint of lust. I turned back around and leaned into the wall, supported by my arms as I spread my legs. “Now kick off your shoes,” she barked. Standing in stocking feet, I felt her start working her way up my right leg, actually patting me down as if she were arresting me. I expected her to go all the way up; but, she stopped just short of my crotch and then proceeded to frisk my left leg, again stopping just below my crotch. She must have sensed my confusion, because as she reached around to unhook my belt, she said, “Don’t think for a moment that you’re getting off light, buddy. I remember just how tricky you are. I won’t feel safe until you’ve been strip searched.” At that, my cock began to stir. By the time she had my pants unbuttoned and unzipped, I was at three-quarters. As she told me to step out of the now fully lowered garment, I was at full staff.

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