A female traffic police officer processed my traffic violation.

I remember it clearly. It was a midsummer afternoon. The city I was in was scorching hot, the sun was blazing, and even the asphalt on the road seemed to be softened by the heat. My mood was terrible too. Two days ago, I had to use the restroom and parked my car on the side of the road. I was caught on camera by a traffic policeman. I was currently in the corridor of the vehicle management office, asking where to go to receive the penalty. Following someone's directions, I came to a window.
Perhaps because of the heat, there was no one at the window, except for a woman sitting there. Police, although it was sweltering outside, it was clearly another world inside Langling City. With the air conditioning, the temperature inside must have been incredibly high. The female traffic officer was looking down at her newspaper. I briefly explained my purpose through the glass, and without even looking up, she said, "Vehicle registration, driver's license," and casually opened the sliding window a crack. I handed her the documents through the crack. She opened the vehicle registration, checked it in the computer, then picked up the driver's license, compared it, and glanced at me. She was said to be quite attractive, around thirty-one or thirty-two years old, with almond-shaped eyes, a high nose bridge, and a relatively smooth, delicate skin despite her thick neck. However, I had no interest in appreciating her beauty, because the disdain and indifference emanating from her almond-shaped eyes filled me with disgust. At this point, she finally began to speak formally: "According to the road traffic management regulations (which didn't exist then) and the relevant regulations for motor vehicle management in this city, your illegal parking that obstructs traffic should be fined 200 yuan and have 3 points deducted. If you disagree..." "You can appeal to the higher-level vehicle management department. I'll issue you a ticket. If you have no objections, go to the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China at the entrance to pay and then come back to handle it. Do you have any objections?" I thought to myself, "Damn! I have objections? Do I dare! It's not worth the trouble of going back and forth." I said nonchalantly, "No objections," and took out the ticket to fill it out. At this moment, her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID casually, then answered with a smile, but her smile vanished after just two sentences. "Okay, okay, okay, Mom, don't worry, I'll answer right away." "I'll be back soon," she said, hanging up the phone and turning to leave. Suddenly remembering me, she turned back, grabbed my ID, and threw it back at me, saying, "I have an emergency at home. Come back tomorrow." Then she closed the window and hurried away. Damn it! I was furious, but dared not say a word. I thought to myself, "This is really bad; I'll just have to make another trip tomorrow." Just as I walked a few steps away, feeling hopeless, she suddenly leaned out of the large window and called out to me, "Driver, wait a minute! Did you drive here?" I said yes. He said, "Could you take me home? I have an emergency." My initial thought was, of course, that I didn't want to, but then I thought, maybe I could use this opportunity to smooth things over and get her to let me off the hook—wouldn't that be a win? So I pretended to be happy and readily agreed.
On the way, she briefly told me about her job posting. Her mother was a widow, living alone, and the faucet had suddenly broken, causing a flood in their house. Her husband was out of town and couldn't come back, so she had to rush home to fix it. I thought... What a fool! What kind of woman is she, going back home and acting all high and mighty? Why doesn't she call a mechanic or a friend? It'll be too late to find someone once we get there. But I didn't remind her; I just dropped her off and left. If she remembered and asked me to pick someone up, that would take a huge time. Because she was anxious, she didn't talk much, and the atmosphere in the car was a bit awkward. Luckily, the road wasn't too far, and we arrived quickly.
But the female traffic policewoman wouldn't let me leave, saying, "My own..." "Your apartment is upstairs too. Come home with me to change your clothes and dry yourself before you leave." Her tone was unquestionable. I looked down and realized I was indeed quite disheveled, so I didn't say anything and followed her home.
But before she even got out of the car, she turned around and said, "Hey! Why would I come back to bother you? I don't know how to fix things," she said, then looked up at me with a questioning gaze. Damn it, what could I do after she said that? What could I do? It was my own fault for not warning her earlier. "Ugh, today's been absolutely terrible." I blurted out, "Should I go upstairs with you to take a look?" "Really? That's wonderful, thank you!" When we got upstairs, lo and behold! It was a complete mess. A faucet in the bathroom was broken, and water was gushing out, flooding the entire house, even the stairs. The old lady saw us like we were her saviors (which is really how she was), yelling and wailing for a long time. Her daughter quickly comforted her. Seeing this, I rushed over without hesitation... I grabbed a towel and covered the area spraying water. The water flowed down the towel and into the drain, soaking me to the bone. I didn't care anymore. "Do you have pipe wrenches, a faucet, and Teflon tape?" The answer was no. I quickly had them help me cover the area with the towel while I rushed downstairs to a hardware store, bought all the necessary tools, and ran back. Soon, the problem was solved, and smiles finally appeared on the mother and daughter's faces. I helped them tidy up a bit, then prepared to resign and go home.
Entering her house, I saw... It was a well-off family; the house was tastefully decorated, with high-end appliances and furniture—definitely not on the same level as her mother's place. As I was looking around, she came out of the master bedroom with a set of pajamas and said to me, "My husband's build is similar to yours. Go take a shower and change. Give me your wet clothes, I'll help you with that." Seeing her police-like tone, I had no choice but to obediently comply. I went into the bathroom, took off my clothes, and slipped the wet clothes to her through the crack in the door. Meanwhile, I... I quickly rinsed myself in the bathtub and changed into clean clothes.
When I came out, my clothes were already spinning in her washing machine, and the air conditioner was on. Seeing me, she quickly said, "Why don't you sit on the sofa and watch TV for a while? I'll treat you to dinner after I'm done. I really want to thank you today; I don't know what I would have done without you." I said, "It's no trouble at all. It's only right. Nobody would feel bad about it. Go ahead and shower. Don't go out and spend money; just cook at home." "I'll cook," she said, heading towards the kitchen. She laughed and said, "Aren't you embarrassed?" I said, "What's there to be embarrassed about? Today, I'll let the officer experience our simple, everyday cooking skills." "Don't tease me," she said, "you're really funny. Well, I won't be modest then," and went into the bathroom.
My father is a master chef, and having grown up surrounded by his culinary skills, his abilities are naturally far superior to most. In no time, he had prepared four delicious and visually appealing side dishes, and also cooked some braised noodles. By then, she had finished showering and brought out an iron and ironing board to dry my clothes.
The food was served, and we sat down. Because of our earlier experience, the distance between us had lessened considerably, and our conversation became much more natural. She said, "Why don't you have some beer?" I said, "How could I dare? If you make me drink now, and then catch me driving under the influence when I leave, I'll be in big trouble." She laughed heartily, got up, and took a can of Tsingtao beer from the large refrigerator, placing it in front of me. I said, "Won't you have one?" She said, "I don't drink, you drink it all by yourself." "Then what's the point of me drinking? I won't drink anymore." She said, "You drink it then," and opened a can of beer. I had no choice but to drink it.
We ate and chatted, and strangely enough, we got along very well, without any sense of awkwardness. When she spoke, she no longer had that hateful, condescending tone that was typical of police officers. During our conversation, I got to know her better. Her surname was Mou, she was 35 years old, and had been married for 7 years. Her husband was a senior executive at a foreign company, in charge of local business. Due to his work, he often traveled for business, but his income was substantial. The two had a good relationship, but like many others, their life after marriage was very mundane. In addition, they had never had children, so their family seemed much more secluded than the average family. It wasn't that they didn't want children, but they just couldn't conceive. They had both been to the hospital and taken a lot of medicine, but nothing worked. Although they both said they weren't anxious, they were definitely worried inside.
My alcohol tolerance is naturally low, and coupled with the heat, I drank a bit too quickly. Just one sip of beer and I was already feeling a little dizzy. There's a saying: "Alcohol emboldens lust," but I think it's more like: "Alcohol arouses lust." I hadn't noticed anything before, but now I'm starting to pay attention to her. After showering, she changed into casual clothes at home. She wore a loose, oversized white undershirt, which accentuated her figure. She wore a pair of athletic shorts, the Li-Ning brand, the kind that's a bit tight and made of pure cotton. They looked quite worn, faded from washing, but clearly comfortable. Although her clothes were casual, they were much more comfortable than her stiff police uniform. She was about 160 centimeters tall, with a slender figure. I wondered if she had been in the military; her skin was so fair! And it was exceptionally delicate, with no visible flaws, reminding me of silk. Her breasts weren't too large, but they weren't flat either; they were quite perky. Her buttocks were perky, her thighs round, and her skin below the knees shimmered. She had a habit of frequently brushing her hair back with her hand, and when she did this, her entire armpits were exposed. Wow! There wasn't a single hair there. I was sure it was natural, because it was also smooth and slippery. Looking down, it was indeed incredibly white and tender. Further down, it was covered by that disgusting piece of cloth, but the obstruction of my view couldn't stop my imagination. I started to have all sorts of fantasies. Of course, while admiring her, my mouth wasn't idle either. We chatted happily, and suddenly she said, "Hey, since we're all free anyway, why don't I have a drink with you?" Without caring about my objections, she opened a can of wine and started drinking.
To be honest, we hit it off really well. We talked about everything from our jobs and families to friends, from space shuttles to underwater life, from the Gulf War to neighborhood disputes, from legal and moral issues to online dating. Finally, we talked about relationships. She even told me she only has sex with her husband two or three times a month on average, clearly revealing the despondency she felt after the economic downturn. By then, the alcohol had made me feel weak, but my last bit of self-awareness told me that it was time to make my move on her. Seizing the opportunity, she was emotionally empty, physically aroused, and emotionally euphoric—a lamb laid bare before me for slaughter. But my unreliable penis, too, was ravaged by alcohol, becoming listless and lethargic. She, too, was drunk, completely devoid of ladylike manners, her speech erratic and unsteady, sometimes bouncing with joy, sometimes on the verge of tears. Our voices were both eight octaves higher than usual, each vying for attention, incoherent yet somehow conveying meaning. I was laughing so hard at what the other person was saying that I couldn't even remember what I was saying anymore, I could only hear their constant laughter... I woke up to my own snoring. I remember I was slumped back in the dining chair, my neck resting on the back of the chair, my head drooping backward. That position was so uncomfortable and painful. I was stunned for a long time after waking up, and then I went to the kitchen tap and poured a lot of cold water over my head to clear my head. Gradually, I started to remember... I got up and discovered she was asleep too, slumped over the dining table, her hair hanging down, some ends still soaking into the food. I smiled, thinking she looked even more disheveled than me, and tried to wake her, but she just whimpered and wouldn't. I had no choice but to pick her up and try to get her to bed, but as soon as I left the dining room, I felt dizzy and my legs went numb. Despite my best efforts to hold on, I couldn't manage it, and we both fell heavily onto the thick carpet in the living room. This fall seemed to wake her up a little. She was lying on the carpet, and I was still on top of her. Her body visibly jolted; she was startled at first, then tried to push me away, but her hand went limp and stopped. The fall had completely jolted me awake. My first instinct was to stand up immediately, but lying on top of her, I became completely involuntary. Her petite, full figure was so soft, her breasts heaving violently in front of my face. I looked at her, she looked at me, and in each other's eyes, we both knew something was about to happen. I slowly moved my lips to hers. She hesitated for a moment, then met my lips. Our lips touched lightly, then slowly parted. Everything was so gentle; our eyes were slightly closed, as if savoring the moment. When our lips touched again, our movements and breathing became more intense. Our tongues intertwined, each wanting to reach the deepest part of the other. So we frequently changed positions; her hands held my head, and my hands... Then I began my assault on her upper body, reaching down below her blouse. I encountered an obstacle at her chest – her bra. To open it, I struggled to my feet and lifted her up. She cooperated by wrapping her legs around my waist. I unhooked her bra from behind, then supported her back with my right hand and gently pinched her clitoris with my left. She tilted her head back, let out a soft "ah," and our lips parted. I pulled her lips back to mine with my right, and our tongues greedily intertwined once more. My legs were under immense pressure. I glanced around with the corner of my eye and saw a large American-style sofa about three meters to my right. I swayed and rushed over, and we quickly sank into each other's arms. My penis was roaring like a lion at the end of its rope, trying to break free of its cage and free itself from the constraints of clothes. I straddled her, hurriedly taking off my clothes. She also sat up quickly, swiftly removing her own clothes. We embraced again. Ah! What a comfortable body! Holding her felt like holding a silk cushion, soft and smooth. Suddenly, I felt the ground beneath me drop. We tumbled from the sofa onto the carpet. I was now on top of her, while she was on top of me. I grabbed her buttocks with both hands and pushed her up until her vulva was right in front of my mouth. In the light, wow! It was indeed a precious work of art. The labia majora, labia minora, and clitoris were neatly arranged, moist and glossy. Remarkably, there wasn't a single hair around it. The skin was fair and delicate. The entire vulva was smaller and more exquisite than any I had ever seen. I gently kissed her, simultaneously taking her labia majora into my mouth. She let out a soft "ah," a sound tinged with sorrow, and her whole body swayed back and forth. She reached back to find something to support her weight, but accidentally touched my penis. So she quickly... She turned around and took my penis into her mouth, greedily teasing it with her mouth. She straddled my face, and my tongue launched wave after wave into her vagina, teasing her clitoris with each thrust. Her whole body trembled, and I was burning with lust, wanting to quickly thrust my penis into her body. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She turned to face me, held my penis, and gently sat down. I wouldn't let her proceed so slowly. I thrust my hips upward, and my penis plunged into her vagina. "Ah!" A mournful cry rang out. I opened my eyes and saw her face contorted in agony, her expression one of utter suffering. Her moans seemed to echo with the same agony. I was worried the neighbors would hear, because her cries were incredibly loud. Her body moved up and down, my penis tingling from her vagina. Not satisfied, I got up and pinned her beneath me, proposing a vigorous assault. Each time I pulled out, the head and all the way out of her body, then I thrust in again quickly, all the way in. Each time I entered… The core is suburban, the industry is like a horse, the bark is like a snail, the general is like a dung beetle, the dung beetle is like a dung beetle, the dung beetle is like a snail ... Na Yu Nang Cang Xu ち Ye Mu Wei Chu,  Ya  also bad street gui mo,  Jiao hai zi still kuang zhao xie  Ye mu pao ning ⒒ Wei vinegar niu,  jia qie yu xiang bian xin jiao shi lu ノ ao nan "zhui ,  Na  zi ya  qi  mu meng wu,  lei dun pai ぷ yong ao xiong ning ⑶ ji chi ning fu   Ye mu ba γ,  yan o long,  ji yu lin shua,  also huan shan shua,    梗耸吠奈蚁袷巧焙炝搜鄣谋┩剑幕峤菜末路庑├私蟹旁谛纳希医鹄创直┑娜酉蛏撤ⅲ彼倬推镒谏撤⒈成希易プ∷牧教跬认蠛笠焕旧碓蛘驹谏撤⒌囊煌罚竽暌购笃蛩母沟靥测橛忠宦止ナ疲医凶鸥叱痹俅谓盗伲?鋈晃腋械絁b A sudden rush of heat washed over me; I felt the burning heat inside her vagina. She had already ejaculated, and amidst her excited cries, my glans could no longer hold back. I yelled, and a thick stream of semen was about to erupt. My remaining shred of reason told me that to avoid causing her trouble, I should ejaculate outside. But pulling out at this crucial moment would significantly diminish the pleasure of my orgasm. So I tried to hold back... As I reluctantly retreated, she seemed to realize my intentions. She forcefully thrust her buttocks backward, and I understood her meaning. I abandoned any thought of pulling out and continued to thrust vigorously. She used her last strength to meet my thrusts. Finally, the volcano erupted, and thick fluid flowed continuously into the depths of her vagina. Each thrust of my penis made her tremble all over. We both shouted as we ushered in this most exciting moment. I hugged her from behind and tried to kiss her lips, and she had the same idea and wanted to get closer to me, but we were both willing but unable. In the end, we both gave up the idea. She slumped on the back of the sofa, unable to move, while I was completely limp, collapsing to the floor like a felled old locust tree, and soon fell into a deep sleep.
"Ring ring, ring ring," the phone rang, and we both woke up at the same time. She lazily picked up the phone. "Hello... Ah! Section Chief Ma, what...? Ah? It's already ten o'clock. Ah, I'm sorry, I wasn't feeling well, so I overslept. I'll be right there..." She was leaving, and I suddenly felt a little reluctant to let her go. I leaned over, hugged her from behind, kissed her cheek, and held her earlobe in my mouth, gently teasing it with my tongue. My right hand caressed her breasts, and suddenly I grabbed one of her clitoris. Her breathing became heavy and rapid. My left hand then moved towards her pubic area, my index finger sliding from her clitoris to the depths, repeatedly tracing its path. At this point, she could hardly maintain a normal tone of voice, and she no longer insisted on going to work. "Okay, Section Chief, I'll rest for a bit, take some medicine, and go to work in the afternoon. Thank you, Section Chief. Okay, goodbye." After hanging up the phone, we smiled at each other. A fierce battle was about to begin... At 1:55 PM, my car stopped precisely 30 meters from the vehicle management office. She got out and closed the door. I rolled down the window, and we waved goodbye. Watching her receding figure, her slightly limping gait, and her steps that never quite aligned with her body, I felt a sense of triumphant pleasure. My God! Life had begun another beautiful dream.
What? You're asking how the traffic violation was ultimately handled? Heh, do I need to go into details?!

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A female traffic police officer processed my traffic violation.

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