Rachana admired herself in the full-length mirror. She turned on the balls of her feet and gazed over her shoulder. The crooked little smile and the twinkle in her big brown eyes showed she liked what she saw.
Her black hair lay soft on her shoulders. Her breasts were unencumbered by a bra. The sleeveless, white blouse fit tight around her rib cage, lifting and displaying those orbs. The two top buttons were open to “let her breasts breathe,” as she liked to say.
The red skirt came to mid thigh. It fit like a glove, displaying shapely legs in sheer stockings. She wore red flats; heels made it hard to drive. With a self-satisfied smile, she grabbed her purse and trotted out the door, ready and eager for her adventure.
In the garage, she twisted the key in the ignition. The mighty Toyota Corolla sprang to life. Letting the engine warm, she hummed as she snugged leather driving gloves over her fingers. She slipped on Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses before lowering the top of the convertible. The sun was low in the sky, about two hours before dark. The day was still bright. There was plenty of time.
Her right hand dropped to the gearshift and eased the Car into reverse. With a flip of her hair, she looked back as she backed into the street. She loved the feel of the car under her. Its vibrations made her tingle when she revved the mighty engine and the straight pipes sounded their thunder. She loved to control this mighty beast, making it jump or turn, shudder or stop, with a turn of her wrist or thrust of her foot.
In the street, she shifted to first. At the corner, she turned onto a major street. She smiled when the men driving by the other way slowed to gawk at her. With ease and competence, she worked her way through town. She was at a light when two high school boys in an old Ford pickup pulled up beside her.
“Hey, tota!!! Where ya’ goin’?” one of the teenagers hollered at her. He leaned out the window, leering at her. Rachana gunned the car and challenged them with her look. She laughed as the truck screeched away when the light changed. She turned right and headed for the city limits. She knew exactly where she was going.
There was a road leading out of town. After the last stoplight, the road was straight as an arrow for a long stretch. There were no homes or businesses out there, just a Bharat Petroleum station on the corner with a convenience store next to it.
It was Marine Drive. On Saturday nights, Marine Drive was the place to be if you were a teenager. The boys were all there: flexing their mechanical muscles; puffing their internal combustion egos. The girls came, too. They wanted the thrills. They wanted to be where the boys were. They came and watched and giggled, and necked if they wanted.
Except Rachana. Rachana went to race. She did it all herself: the overhaul, the preparation, the driving.
“Why, I don’t know how I beat you tonight, Asad,” she would say when it was over, her smile sweet and innocent. She said it every Saturday night to the Asad and the Juniors and the others. On the rare occasion when she missed a gear or the rod wasn’t right, she was gracious in defeat. Externally. Internally, she boiled and vowed to beat them next time.
“Rachana honey,” her father would say when she arrived home covered in sweat and grease. “I wish your mother were alive. You’re growing up more boy than girl.”
“Oh, Daddy, look at me. I’m all girl. I’ll find the man I want someday. Right now, I’m taking their pocket money on Marine Drive. Anyway, Daddy, I love the speed. It’s in my blood.”
“It’s the speed I worry about, honey,” her father had said, his voice full of concern.
After Marine Drive, the road curved to the west. It was a fun curve when you drove it like Rachana. You came over the hill by Worli. Now – opposite the water tower – hit the brakes hard – downshift into fourth – then third. The engine screamed when the clutch popped. Accelerate through the curve. Up shift. Let it fly! After several more curves, the road straightened again before the sweeping curve where it crossed the county line. Rachana loved to drive that road.
Rachana stopped at the last red light. Her eyes scanned the corner. The cruiser was at the convenience store. She gunned the engine. It shook like a stallion panting for the mares. She squirmed in her seat, making the skirt ride up her legs. Cars from the other direction slowed, telling her the light was ready to change. She took a deep breath. Her eyes gleamed in anticipation.
Green! Her shapely right foot jammed the Car accelerator to the floor. Tires screeched, digging into the asphalt. Shift into second. She was gone.
Traffic Seargent Adi Khurana was in his new Swift Desire police cruiser in the parking lot of the convenience store. He saw the woman in the convertible. She made his heart skip a beat. Then, he heard the roar of an engine and saw a flash of red go by. He shifted into gear and hit the siren. The Car had two hundred yards on him and was pulling away when the Swift spun onto the road in pursuit. He shoved the accelerator to the floor and yanked the seat belt tight over his lap.
Rachana glanced in the rear view mirror. She saw the swirling red and blue lights atop the patrol car behind her. With a laugh and a toss of her long hair, she dropped the Car into fifth, and, jammed her foot to the floor. The Toyota screamed as the fence posts flashed by.
“Deputy Khurana, report,” came the routine call over the police radio.
“In pursuit of a red Toyota northbound on Versova road one one six, Nish,” the deputy replied.
“Do you need backup?” asked Nish, the dispatcher.
“Negative, dispatch,” Deputy Khurana replied as he felt a blush cross his face.
Inspector Khan scowled as he stood by the desk listening to her conversation with his deputy. His brooding black eyes were angry as he strode to his office for his hat. He saw Nish and her assistant watching him out of the corners of their eyes as he headed for the exit.
“Should I tell the deputy you’re going to join them?” Nish asked.
The Inspector spun his bulk on the toe of his boot. He glowered at Nish, giving her his dirtiest look. Nish tried not to smile.
“Negative, Nish,” he snapped before he charged out to the parking lot.
“Damn! That woman can drive,” Deputy Khurana thought appreciatively as the Car slowed for the curve by the Versova place.
The Swift seemed to be gaining, but it was an illusion. The car blew through the curve; it’d gained fifty yards. Next curve coming up. The deputy watched as the Car slipped perfectly through the curve and pulled away again.
“Where’s she going?” the deputy wondered as he remained in hot pursuit.
He saw the Car slow and almost caught it before it turned up the gravel road toward the abandoned Municipal’ house. The Car bumped ahead of him until it pulled into a small clearing under some oak trees.
The deputy turned off the siren and parked his cruiser to block the convertible. When he exited the car, he adjusted his trousers to ease the pressure on his erection. As he strode to the Car, the woman sat quietly with both hands on the steering wheel.
She turned in the seat, drawing her left leg up under her. Her left arm rested on the door. The skirt was to her thigh tops. He gasped as his eyes tried to simultaneously take in her breasts and the white panties. He stifled a groan.
“Is something wrong, deputy?” she purred.
She batted her eyes at him shamelessly. She let them wander over his chest, past the narrow waist to his crotch. Openly, she stared at his erection. What a hunk, she thought.
“What the hell are you doing?” Deputy Khurana asked in exasperation.
“Aren’t you going to ask for my license and registration?” Rachana asked innocently.
“Well, yeah. License and registration, please,” the Deputy said with a grin. The light was dawning on him.
“Deputy, I don’t have a license,” Rachana replied in a shy, sexy voice.
“Out of the car, miss.”
Rachana opened the door. Leisurely, seductively, she swung her legs out. One shapely leg extended, her ankle sliding down his calf. Her eyes never left his face. His eyes never left her legs. She stood and wiggled, pulling the tight skirt down again. Head down, she turned her big, brown, eyes upward submissively.
“Am I going to be arrested?” she whispered.
Deputy Khurana licked his parched lips.
“Well, evading the police is an arresting offense. Maybe we can work something out,” he said, his voice tight with desire.
“Oh, could we? I’d be grateful. Really.”
“How grateful?” the deputy asked. He was pleased his tone was a neutral, commanding, police voice again.
“Very grateful – as long as my husband doesn’t find out,” she said so softly.
“Oh? Are you one of those women who screw around?”
“No, but I find you so sexy,” she whispered as she leaned into him, letting her breasts crush against his chest. She raised her head and nibbled on his neck.
“You’re a hot little number, aren’t you?” he replied as his hands dropped to squeeze her ass. He was rough with her, digging his fingers in, feeling the firm muscle twitch under his hands. She pushed her crotch against him.
“For a big, strong, cop like you, I’m burning up,” she moaned, as she drove her tongue into his mouth, both hands holding his head against hers.
Deputy Khurana held her hard against him, feeling her heat, feeling her squirm. She moved away, her hands on his belt. Her eyes burned as she stared at him. He yanked the blouse back over her shoulders, pinning her arms, freeing her breasts. He tweaked her nipples.
She sobbed; her eyelids fluttered. He pulled her rich, brown hair back, arching her over the Car’s bright red hood. He hesitated, looking at her there: her breasts bared for him, her hair wild around her. But it was her face that drove him insane. He saw her desire, her need. She whimpered. Greedily, he lowered his head to her breast. Hungrily, he sucked a nipple into his mouth.
With his free hand, he found the button at the waist of the skirt. Next, the zipper. Rachana moaned again and wiggled as Deputy Khurana yanked the skirt down her legs. He grabbed the panties and jerked. Jerked again. The panties shredded. He tossed them away.
The deputy jammed a long, strong, finger hard up between her legs and his thumb found her clit.
“Ahhhh, ahh. Yes,” Rachana moaned as her back arched. Her thighs clamped around his hand, trapping him there, his finger buried in her. He could feel her pussy muscles spasming on his hand. He watched her bliss.
He waited as she floated down again, holding her protectively against him. He felt her shiver, then tense in the instant before she shoved him away. Slack jawed, he stared. Hands on hips, eyes flashing, she was a nymph, naked but for her stockings and shoes.
“I don’t want to have sex with you. I’ve changed my mind,” Rachana said regally.
“Like hell you have!” the deputy snapped.
He charged. She ran, ran over the rise, down the glen toward a single, old, oak tree majestically standing amid a patch of clover. He caught her there, grabbing the brown mane flowing behind her. They fell in the lushness, his body trapping hers. Roughly, he shoved her on her back in the rich clover. She looked over her shoulder to the tree. The deputy’s gaze followed hers.
A hook had been screwed into the base of the oak. It was not at ground level now, but about twenty inches up the bark of the giant tree. Strong hard hands locked the handcuffs over her wrists. He slipped the cuff chain over the hook, pinning her arms, and pulled her toward him, away from the tree.
Naked, cuffed, stretched out, Rachana felt the clover soft under her and the breeze cool on her rigid nipples. She watched the deputy as he towered over her. She tingled as he set aside his belt and gear, quivered as his massive chest came into sight. Her heart raced as he lowered his uniform trousers.
The deputy watched her face as he yanked down his jockeys. He saw her eyes dilate, saw her tongue flick across her lips, as she stared at his hard cock. As he dropped to his knees, she locked her legs together, ankles crossed.
“Open your legs so I can fuck you,” the deputy growled.
“No,” she replied haughtily.
Deputy Khurana grabbed a trim ankle in each of his powerful hands. Her face contorted as she struggled to keep her legs tight. She squirmed and twisted, but the deputy was too strong. His muscles corded as he slowly pulled Rachana’s legs apart. Her skin was slick with sweat when he fell between her legs.
“I’m unprotected,” she whispered, her big brown eyes searching his face.
The deputy froze for an instant, until a wicked, masculine, smile crept over his face.
“Good. I’ll get you pregnant,” he said.
“Are you sure?” Rachana replied as her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes. I’m sure,” he replied softly.
Rachana laughed as she thrust her pelvis toward him.
“What’ll my husband say?” she giggled naughtily.
“He’ll love to see your belly swollen with child,” the deputy replied.
Deputy Khurana lodged the tip of his cock in her tight, wet entrance. Slowly, he pushed, feeling the walls of her pussy spasm around him. God, her pussy is so hot, he thought as he slowly pulled back again.
“Quit teasing me!” Rachana moaned in his ear. “Fuck me hard, you big cocked stud! Make me pregnant!”
Satiated but reinvigorated, Deputy Khurana gazed at the beauty of the naked woman who lay at his feet. As he dressed, she recovered from the pleasure they’d shared. The cuffs still dangled from one of her wrists as she walked naked ahead of him. He could see her thighs shiny with his juices, see her ass sway provocatively in front of him.
She found her skirt. Straight legged, she bent from the waist to retrieve it. His cock hardened again at the sight of her still bloated pussy. His need grew as she wiggled back into the red skirt. Again she teased him as she recovered her blouse. Watching him watch her, she fastened the buttons.
He grabbed her and kissed her hard and deep. She squirmed against him as he held her neck in one giant paw while the other crushed her to him.
Deputy Khurana heard Inspector Khan’s cruiser turn into the road to the Municipal’s place. Quickly, he pushed Rachana away from him and straightened his uniform.
Before the Inspector’s cruiser came to a stop, he saw the two of them. Rachana was rubbing her wrist. The Inspector knew exactly what had happened. It wasn’t the first time a deputy had caught a young woman speeding on this road. He opened the door, scowling at them as he put on his hat. He strode toward them, straightening his belt and gun.
Rachana shifted from foot to foot. Deputy Khurana tried to stretch the collar of his suddenly too tight shirt.
“Adi,” the Inspector said stiffly.
“Inspector,” Deputy Khurana replied nervously.
“How’s your patrol going? Any problems to report?”
“Uh, fine, sir,” the deputy replied, trying to look the Inspector in the eye. “No problems, sir.”
“No crime out here, huh?”
“No, sir.” The deputy desperately wished he were somewhere else.
“And you, young lady,” the Inspector continued, “shouldn’t you be home fixing dinner for your husband rather than tearing up the county roads?”
Rachana didn’t reply, but glanced up at Deputy Khurana as she slipped her hand in his. The Inspector shook his head.
“I thought when you two got married this monkey business would stop,” the Inspector said wearily.
Rachana took a tentative step toward the Inspector. Her eyes were wild was mischief as a wicked grin grew on her face.
“I had a long talk with Nish yesterday,” Rachana said. “She told me about this place, about the oak in the clover. She told me a lot of things you never told me.”
The Inspector blanched. Rachana smiled and took another step toward him.
“Nish said if Momma hadn’t owned a hemi-head Dodge, I might never’ve been born. Well, Daddy? Was Nish right? Was I really conceived under that oak tree?”
The Inspector’s color almost matched the Car’s bright red. He cleared his throat several times.
“Nish talks too damn much,” he mumbled.
Rachana grinned from ear to ear as she seized the advantage.
“If you want a grandbaby, you’ll have to tolerate my Car and me a little while longer, Daddy.”
“Well, as long as the monkey business has a good purpose,” the Inspector blustered, easing his way back toward his cruiser.
Deputy Khurana put his arm around his wife as the Inspector opened the door of his car.
“Oh, Daddy,” Rachana called gaily. The Inspector turned to look at her.
“Thanks for the hook. It sure comes in handy,” she said with a giggle.
Again red with embarrassment, Inspector Khan bumped the cruiser back toward the blacktop. In his rear view mirror, Deputy Khurana and Rachana were locked in an embrace.
A vision filled his mind. A vision of a majestic oak tree. Of a naked young woman lying cuffed in the rich clover. Of a deputy between her legs as she screamed her joy.
Tears filled his eyes.