A spur of the moment crime and barely legal teenager Emma is hauled off to the local jail by Paul, a hulking cop who is as cold as ice.
When she decides to start moaning in fake pleasure, she quickly finds how bad a good cop can be …
Another hot short story from Emily Cantore featuring adult scenes, erotic situations and a bad girl about to get her just desserts.
EXCERPT:
Being an ADHD-riddled teenager, the thought of having nothing to do was like mental torture. I tried to go to sleep but the noise of his pen scratching away at his paper work was driving me to distraction. I huffed and puffed, and tried making annoying sounds again to entertain myself, but the time just dragged on. Then an idea popped into my head. With the staff mostly gone, escaping would probably be a lot easier. The locks on the doors were mostly to get inside the building, not outside. All I would have to do was get out of the cell, and I would be free. I knew I wouldn’t get far, and that I would face even greater penalties when they eventually caught me, but such was my state of mind at the time. I would rather get into more trouble than suffer the silence of boredom for one night. I lay back on the bed, making sure to check for stains or other weird marks on the sheets. It seemed clean enough, though, so I proceeded with my supposedly genius, evil plan. I spread my legs open and lowered my hand down to my crotch as I propped myself up on one elbow.
“Mmmm…” I moaned loudly to catch his attention, “This feels good!”
He looked over and snorted, and then returned to his boring paper work. I persisted, and started to run my fingers delicately over my crotch, touching my clitoris through my pants. He still didn’t take any notice, so I began to make erotic groaning noises, as if I was being pleasured by some Adonis behind his back. He finally relented and turned to face me, watching as I played with myself. I slid my hand down the front of my pants and rubbed my pussy through my sexy pink thong, leaving an imprint from my hand on the grey material. The thing is, as I nudged and prodded my clit, I actually started to enjoy myself. I could feel my pussy growing wetter as a flood of moisture formed around my labia. This burst of excitement must have made the seduction all the more convincing. It seemed to have worked, as he rose to his feet and made his way over to the cell. He took out his black policeman’s baton and rolled it across the metal bars, making a loud clanging sound.
“Don’t make me come in there and sort you out!” he barked sternly.
“What if I want you to sort me out?” I asked, making my eyebrows dance as I said it.
Now available at Amazon!
Subscribe to the Emily Cantore mailing list to be notified of new releases