Summary: Santana doesn't know how she got into this situation — bent over the hood of her car, hands cuffed behind her back, as the blonde cop pounds into her.
The car roars as Santana brings it to life, echoing in the silent night. She is physically drained from the 50-hour work week and just wants to go home, have a late dinner of yesterday's pizza, and maybe get some mack on with her girlfriend before going to sleep.
She hasn't done the deed with Brittany for weeks, because her career just took off, leaving her with no time for intimacy. Even if she had somehow found time, she would've been too tired and probably fallen asleep before she could even take her damn shirt off.
In short, her sexual frustration level is beyond the roof.
Suddenly, bright headlights in her rearview mirror blind her, causing Santana to flinch and slow down to avoid any potential collision, especially in this dark area where there are little to no lampposts to aid her sight. To her dismay, the car begins to blink red and blue lights, followed by a loud siren.
"What now?" Santana curses under her breath and tries to keep calm. Stopping the car completely, she watches through the mirror as the other car comes to a halt as well.
When she hears someone tap her window from the outside, Santana rolls it down, ready to start her flirt game, flash some cleavage, and go home without a ticket. Santana can't see the officer's face because of the cap, but from the body, Santana can tell it belongs to a woman. Easy peasy.
"May I see your ID and license, please?" Her voice strikes something within Santana, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise.
"Sure." Fishing the requested documents out of her purse, Santana hands them to the officer, taking the time to appreciate this woman's long, lean body in that tight uniform as she inspects her ID with a small flashlight.
"I need you to turn off the engine and step out of the vehicle, Miss."
That snaps Santana out of her leering, and she looks up at the cop expectantly. "But I didn't do anything wrong," she says innocently, pouting her full lips.
"This is standard procedure, Miss," she replies in a monotone voice. "Failure to comply with an officer's orders is a crime."
The officer steps back as Santana opens her car door, the cold night air hitting her skin instantly. Her heart pounds against her ribcage as she faces the cop, who is standing a good three or four inches taller than her.
"Put her hands on the side of the vehicle."
Santana does as she's told, purposely arching her back and swaying her hips to the side. She smirks in triumph when she catches the officer staring at her ass. Fighting back a grin, she teases, "Like this?"
"Stay still, so I can further my inspection and make sure you're not carrying any weapons."
Suddenly, the policewoman is on her knees, dragging both of her hands from Santana's left ankle up to the top of her thigh, dangerously close to her clothed core. Then, she does the same on the right leg and continues upwards, lingering on her hips longer than necessary. Santana almost groans in frustration when the officer skips her torso, opting instead to slowly examine both of her arms, teasingly building her up.
Santana's breath hitches when she feels the officer's front pressed against her back as she brings her hands around to glide across her chest, the sides of her breasts, along her stomach, then back up to cup her breasts. "Fuck," she breathes when the policewoman massages her soft, firm globes with skilled hands, her breath hot and heavy against the side of her neck. Santana's heart is beating a million miles a minute, the past month of sexual frustration taking its toll on her.
"Tsk tsk." The cop pulls her hands away, earning a faint whine. "Cursing openly around an officer is also a crime." She steps back, instantly making Santana miss the warmth of her body.
Santana has never heard of that law, but she plays along, too aroused to think straight. She turns around to face the officer. "Aren't you going to arrest me?"
Boldly, Santana closes the gap between them and takes the cap off her head, letting it fall to the ground. The first thing she notices is her eyes, a darkened shade of blue and full of lust. Next is her golden blonde hair, now tumbling from a loose bun without the support of her cap, to cascade down her shoulders in soft curls.
"You just committed another crime," she admonishes, her piercing blue eyes never leaving Santana's.
"Another reason for you to arrest me, Officer…" Glancing at her name tag on the left side of her chest, Santana whispers sexily, "…Pierce."
Santana holds her gaze for a few seconds, watching her gulp, satisfied with the effect she has on the policewoman — until suddenly, strong hands are wrapped around her torso, turning her around and pinning her against the hood of her car.
As Officer Pierce clicks the handcuffs in place, she intentionally thrusts her pelvis against Santana's ass as she recites, "Miss Lopez, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense."
For some reason, Santana finds her whispering those lines into her ear incredibly sexy. Her slacks are now sticking uncomfortably to the heat between her legs. Smirking, the officer slides one hand to the front of her torso, while the other continues to hold her in place.
The hand dances downwards, across her abs, which tighten under her touch. Santana squirms when her hand reaches the destination she desires most, and hears a light chuckle from the blonde, who is thoroughly enjoying watching Santana suffer. Santana almost cries out when she presses a finger on her covered sex, directly where her clit is. "Oh," she breathes out, eyes almost rolling to the back of her head.
"You've been a very, very bad girl tonight, Miss Lopez. Are you ready for your punishment?" The blonde nudges her hips forward, not moving her hand from her throbbing core.
Santana's eyes widen when she feels it ― something long and hard inside the officer's pants, pressed against her ass. Heat settles low in her stomach. This time, she can't hold back her whimper when Officer Pierce steps back again, leaving her on the hood of the car.
Before she can do or say anything, however, a pair of hands roughly yank her slacks down her legs, leaving them to pool around her ankles. The chilly night air reminds Santana that she is outdoors, her naked ass up in the air, both her arms handcuffed behind her back. She prays that no hidden eyes are watching.
It happens so quickly that Santana doesn't even realize the blonde must have removed her own pants. Her ass is suddenly met with soft skin that's already starting to glisten with sweat, along with the thing sliding between her ass cheeks, making her shudder.
The officer slips a thigh between hers to spread her legs wider for easier access. The thing is still rubbing deliciously against Santana, and she lets out a throaty moan when the cop cups her ass cheeks, kneading them roughly.
"W-what are y-you doing?" Santana asks, trembling, despite knowing exactly what is happening; she's enjoying this, and Officer Pierce knows it.
"Shhh…" the blonde leans in and says into her ear, her hot breath on her skin burning Santana to the core of her being. "The only sound I want to hear is how wet you are when I'm pounding into you. Is that clear?"
"Crystal," Santana manages a weak reply.
Lining the tip to her entrance, the blonde uses her thumb to play with the puckered hole of her ass, and Santana's breath hitches. Suddenly, she drives straight in ― deep. Santana chokes out a moan as she tries to adjust to the size that is stretching her open. The cop stays still for a moment to savor the sight of the bright purple dildo buried to the hilt inside of Santana, mere centimeters separating her pelvis from Santana's hips.
Then, she pulls out at an agonizingly slow pace, her eyes never leaving the glistening appendage as Santana's pussy clenches involuntarily, trying desperately to hold the dildo inside of her. The Latina whimpers when it disappears completely. Words can't describe how turned on she is; she desperately pushes her ass backwards, feeling the silicone shaft coated with her juices on her bare skin.
The officer yanks a fistful of her hair, causing Santana to stumble backwards, leaving the cold metal of the car hood. She leans back on the cop as her legs fail to keep her upright, feeling the blonde's body pressed against her back, the dildo sliding up and down her ass causing her to whimper a plea for more.
"You really want this, don't you?" Santana feels the smirk in her tone and can only moan in response, not trusting her voice.
Officer Pierce's hands travel to the front of her body and cup both of her breasts, kneading them slowly, feeling her hard-as-rock nipples through her blouse and bra. God knows what other things those fingers can do. Before Santana can think any more about it, the blonde grabs her shirt and rips it open with a strength Santana didn't expect at all.
She pushes Santana's bra cups down, freeing her breasts, and her nipples harden impossibly further in the cold night air. Her skilled hands massage the flesh eagerly, giving both mounds equal attention and pressure. She continues to pinch the nipple of her left breast as her other hand vanishes between their bodies, sliding down to grab the shaft before pushing it in fast and hard.
With her arms still handcuffed behind her back, Santana is completely helpless. She lets out a guttural moan as Officer Pierce thrusts in and out, the sound of skin slapping against skin the only thing Santana can hear apart from their heavy breathing. The blonde's other hand finds her breast once again, and she rolls both nipples with her fingers while her talented mouth works on the side of Santana's neck, sucking the skin there, leaving red marks in its wake. She nibbles on her earlobe, then licks behind her ear as the movement of her hips never ceases, each thrust hitting all the right spots.
As the policewoman continues to fuck her into oblivion from behind, her exposed breasts bouncing, Santana feels that familiar tightening in her stomach. Seeming to sense her impending orgasm, Officer Pierce picks up the pace, as if it weren't impossibly fast already. One of her hands slides down to rub Santana's clit as the other continues its ministrations on her breast, rapidly bringing Santana to the edge. One last thrust of her hips that hits that spot, along with a well-timed circle of her clit, sends a wave of pleasure all across and throughout Santana's tensed body. Sparks, fireworks, stars — everything appears in the backs of her eyelids as her mouth opens in a silent scream, and she forgets about the rest of the world. Her back arches, her inner muscles clenching deliciously around the thick purple dildo still buried deep in her pussy.
As she slowly comes down from her high, the blonde holds Santana tight in her arms. After what feels like hours, she lets go, and Santana hears the sound of a key unlocking the handcuffs, releasing her wrists from the metal. Her arms are a little sore, but Santana couldn't care less. She whimpers when the officer slowly pulls the toy out of her still-pulsating entrance.
She turns Santana around to face her, then gently pushes Santana backwards to lean against the car and wraps Santana's arms around her neck, knowing that Santana doesn't trust her legs to support her. Her eyes flicker to her lips for a split second before she leans forward and kisses Santana, who lets her hands run through soft blonde locks. The Latina pulls her closer to deepen the kiss, and their tongues meet, softly yet passionately communicating their love for each other.
Santana pulls away first when oxygen becomes a necessity.
"Hi," Brittany breaks the silence, grinning.
Santana chuckles, exhausted but sated in the best way. "Hi."
"Has anyone ever told you how good you are at acting?" Brittany plays with the hem of Santana's ruined blouse and admires her full breasts. They're one of her favorite things about Santana.
"Me? You were amazing, Britt. When you read me my rights — which was so hot, by the way — I was shocked at how in character you were. Where did you learn all the cop lingo anyway?" Santana asks.
"Google, duh." She playfully thrusts her hips against Santana's, and Santana can't help but look down and stare at the toy dangling between her creamy thighs, her cum still evident on the glistening shaft. Santana visibly gulps at the sight; the dildo is at least 8 inches long, and much thicker than she imagined. That thing was just inside her pussy. "My face is up here, babe."
Santana bites her bottom lip, and to her surprise, Brittany finds herself being spun around so that she is now the one leaning against the car. Santana kneels down, eye-level with her crotch, and grabs the toy in her hand, looking up to see her girlfriend already staring down at her. Without breaking eye contact, Santana licks the head of the dildo and moans at the taste of herself. Brittany squirms when the base of the dildo hits her clit.
"Mmm," Santana hums before taking the fake cock all the way down her throat. Brittany can't help groaning as she watches the toy disappear between those plump lips, inch by inch. Santana pulls back slowly, her tongue licking the underside of the shaft, and pauses to suck the head before going back down.
Brittany's breathing turns heavy as Santana repeats her actions, increasing the pressure against her clit and tightening that coil in her groin. Her head falls back as her eyes close, face scrunched in pleasure, and she unconsciously puts a hand on Santana's head, forcing her down, as the other grips the roof of the car. Santana would be lying if she said this didn't turn her on; her pussy is getting wetter by the second, even after the hard fuck and mind-blowing orgasm she just had.
After a particularly hard pressure on her clit makes her knees buckle, Brittany lets out a loud moan and comes undone, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her. Santana gets back onto her feet and presses her lips against hers, hard, drawing out her orgasm.
Finally, Brittany pulls away, chest still heaving from her release, and nods when Santana whispers, "Let's go home, baby."