I winced and said ow and Becky asked if I was ok. I told her yes. She stepped over by me and helped me straighten up. It hurt quite a bit. Becky rubbe... my back. In a minute it had gone. I told her nothing like that had happened to me before and she said it was probably from too much sitting up practicing for long hours and getting a stiff back. I agreed with her. She added that swimming had probably stretched it enough to make it cramp like that. I told her she was probably right. She asked if. She licked her lips and I thought for a second she might take me in her mouth. But then she laid back against the couch's cushions. Her hand that had gripped her thigh was snaking under her skirt, worming its way to her pussy. The hand she used to caress my manhood went to her mouth. First she smelled it, then licked it. She moaned and I think her fingers had found their mark. She thrust her hips forward as I took my length in one hand. I stroked and watched her, She stared at my cock as I. I stared down at my crotch, my black curls framing the base, my pussy lips stretched over it.I had a cock. I made a wish and—A silver Porsche 911 raced past me. My radar gun beeped. 93 MPH.“That fucking bitch,” I snarled, throwing my radar gun onto the passenger seat, flipping on my lights, and hitting the gas.It was her. Portia Davenport racing northbound now instead of southbound. My cop car screamed out onto the highway, my cock throbbing in eager anticipation. I made a wish. I was promised. Josh grabbed at my wrists tightly, but not so tight that it hurt. He then moved them above my head and pinned me down to the couch. Once my hands were where he wanted them, he held them together with both hands. I knew what was coming next, so I struggled to get out from beneath him, but he was too strong. He was going to tickle me and I could not stop it. “Josh,” I squealed again, once more trying to get free. “Stop it, please.” I pleaded with him over and over again, but he kept on ticking.