I gulped and then opened the door, swung both legs out and stood, closing the door behind me. I saw their heads move up and down as they took in the sight of a tall naked woman stepping out of a sports car. I was glad their eyes were behind sunglasses too. “Wooo-eeh,” I heard one of them say quietly.
“Step to the front of the vehicle and put your hands on the hood,” the officer instructed.
I had never been pulled over before, but I had seen enough of this on television. I stood by the side of the car bonnet and placed my palms flat on it. The low car and my high heels meant I had to bend at the waist to reach. Through my hands I could feel the warmth of the engine.
I heard one of the officers walk over, his feet crunching in the gravel and dust and, I thought this was unnecessary, he gave my shiny stilettos a gentle tap with his boots to indicate I was to spread my legs wider. I had no choice but to comply as I looked down at my dust-covered shoes.
I heard the car that had been chasing me reversing and the road block was cleared. Then I heard another, lower sound. It was the truck I’d overtaken catching up with us. He slowed right down to pass us, enjoying his view of my legs apart and my rear end pointing out towards the road. As he passed he sounded his horn, just to remove any doubt as to whether he had seen what was going on.
“Erm, I’m not sure I need to check for a concealed weapon, are you?” the officer nearest to me asked his partner, who laughed.
“Well, ya gotta follow procedure,” he encouraged.
I felt the officer’s hands around my left ankle and then run slowly up my leg, and then do the same with the right. I have to confess, all feelings of arousal had disappeared as soon as I had seen that first flashing light, but as his hand slid up the inside of my thigh I felt the same stirring again. It made me question my sanity.