"I know you want to," she whispered into my ear as she stepped closer. I probably should have stopped her there, company policy and all... but hey, I'... just a man. "Sandy..." I started, but before I got more out she was kissing me and her hands had pulled down my shorts and boxers allowing my cock to finally escape. I gave up. I tried putting the glass down blind but missed and it crashed to the floor on the other side of the counter as I returned her passionate kiss. She squeezed my cock a. “Good. Let’s go, sister.” And he pushes me with his flashlight in the direction of his own car.What the hell? Cops don’t act like this, not any I’ve known and I’ve known a few. I look at him and he’s just wearing jeans and a shirt, no uniform. Then I look at his car and it’s not a police car and it’s a lot too old and decrepit looking to be one of the unmarked cars the cops sometimes use for speeders. And the cop himself smells, well, pretty ripe.It dawns on me that this guy isn’t a cop! He’s. Maybe in ten years but not now. The problem really was I liked the cruiser but the engine was really starting to give me trouble. I mean, it might be something I did or the last driver, but it only had ninety thousand miles on it. I had replaced the timing belt, and a bunch of other parts on the outside of the engine. I guess I just wanted a different car.Even with all that going on I couldn't get motivated. I just walked through each day like I wasn't really there at all. It was a lot of. When I saw you and them doing that, I nudged Whitney. Just as I did, I saw Jean’s blouse suddenly start blowing up like she had a balloon inside it ... PLEASE ... PLEASE, whatever you and Sherry did for Jean ... Whitney and I want a double dose of that magic potion. We want to look like Sherry, Camille and Jean ... and the rest of your troupe.We were standing outside the door marked - Manager - when she gripped the bottom of her blouse and pulled it up under her chin to expose her tiny little.