Monica knew that she should've heeded her intuition; should've listened to the little voice inside her head. But her excitement had overwhelmed any doubts, rendering her brain's warnings meaningless in a flood of hormones. Ignoring her intuition always prompted an equal and opposite reaction. Monica's Law was once again in effect.

She'd felt the first tingle driving up Highway 36 just before the town of Dirkson. She'd seen the cop car idling on the side of the road far enough in advance to slow down to just over the speed limit. But as she passed, he'd watched her car for just a moment too long. Longer than a traffic cop might watch a car passing through his speed trap. Longer than a small town cop might take to assess an unfamiliar car. Longer even than a man might stare at a busty blonde driving by in a red sports car with the windows rolled down. Just a tad too long.

She could've stopped in the town of Dirkson for a Coke from the local liquor store. She could've popped it open, driven to the small municipal park, and enjoyed it in the shade of an old oak tree. She could've waited for another hour at least, and still would've had time to beat Roger to the spot in the woods. But her excitement, her lust, had been too demanding.

She could blame nothing, and no one, else. One part of her brain had tried to warn her. But the other part had been busy creating elaborate fantasies for the hours ahead. When her fiancé had suggested that they get a head start on their vacation, she'd jumped at the chance. And when he'd laid out his plans, she'd left work almost immediately.

"Here's what we'll do," he'd said, calling from his office. "Take 36 up past Dirkson. About five miles out of town there's a side road called "Cook Road." Take that, it's gravel, down to the end, past all the farms. At the Dead End sign there's a little two track that leads into the woods. Don't worry about the Private Property sign, nobody cares about it. Take that path about two miles into the woods until you get to a little clearing. Don't worry, you'll know it. There's no place else for you to go. I'll meet you in the clearing about four. And then we'll just do what comes naturally."

That phrase, 'do what comes naturally,' had been the real kicker for Monica. She knew that he meant they were going to have sex in the open, out in the grass or under the trees. It was one of her favorite fantasies, and the few other times they'd done it outside they'd fucked like crazy. It had been a no-brainer, and she'd hit the road with visions of orgasms dancing in her head.

Sure, she'd get there a couple of hours early. But that would only add to the excitement, help build the anticipation. Plus, she could entertain herself out there in the woods, miles from any prying eyes. She could get herself hot, take herself to the edge a few times, so she'd be wet and primed and ready when Roger showed up. So she'd driven straight up, making only one stop.

She looked in the rearview mirror at the flashing lights, watching as the cop climbed out of his cruiser and started towards her. Tall, solid, self-assured, he approached her car calmly and unhurriedly. Just another cop making another stop. Except that they were miles from nowhere. And it'd be two hours before another soul might turn up.

Monica regretted making that single stop on the highway now as the cop stared down at her. His eyes were unreadable behind the dark, mirrored aviator glasses. He could be searching the car for drugs. He could be looking for weapons. But she could feel his gaze on her, a feeling she knew very well. He was looking down her dress at her ample cleavage. And looking beyond that at the hem of her dress, where her legs disappeared below the fabric. As a 36 D blue-eyed blonde, she experienced that gaze a lot.

Don't make me get out, she thought at him, assuming a studiously unthreatening posture. She did have secrets to hide, but if she got out they wouldn't stay hidden for long.

"License and registration, ma'am," he said, his voice as impassive as his gaze.

Shit. She should've gotten those out already. She should've been prepared for that. Now she'd have to lean way over to the glove box, and he'd be watching her the whole time. There was no way to refuse his request, either. She leaned over, acutely conscious of the way her breasts spilled forward to fill out the front of her dress; of the sweat suddenly cooling on her bare back; of the way her dress rode up to suddenly expose her thighs and ass. He took her paperwork without comment, appearing to study them but probably watching as she adjusted her dress to better cover her breasts, legs and back.

"Would you please get out of the car, Ms. Stanson?" he asked in a neutral voice.

She didn't detect a note of interest there; maybe he was gay. She could only hope.

She stepped out of the car, berating herself for having stopped at the travel area. Instead of greeting Roger in her business attire, she'd wanted to surprise him with a sexy outfit. So she'd changed into a sheer, white, spaghetti strap sun dress, so short that it barely covered the bottom curve of her ass, and with so much cleavage that it barely covered her nipples. To make matters worse, she'd shed all of her underwear. She wore not a bra nor panties, only the dress and a pair of high heels. She looked hot and sexy, but for the wrong man.

"Step around to the rear of the vehicle," the cop intoned, his voice and manner betraying nothing.

Was he even aware how vulnerable she felt? Or was he already fucking her with his eyes?

"You realize you're on Private Property?" he asked, escorting her to the rear. She nodded. There was no denying that. She'd passed three Private Property signs on the way to the clearing.

"Mind if I take a look inside?"

She nodded again, not sure if she felt more nervous about standing there so exposed, or by his dispassionate demeanor.

She watched through the rear window as he bent into the front seat, then reached around to extract something from the back seat. As he strode back she could see the two pints of tequila in his hand. She'd brought it to have something to drink with Roger. A way to lubricate their inhibitions.

"It's illegal to have an open bottle of alcohol in a vehicle. Were you aware of that?" he asked, placing the bottles on the trunk lid with a solid thump.

"I wasn't drinking and driving, if that's what you're getting at," she retorted, no longer so submissive.

"I didn't say you were drinking and driving. I said you have an open bottle of alcohol," he replied calmly, flicking the broken seal. "And it looks like a good third of it is gone."

She had taken a few sips at the rest area. But that couldn't be a crime, could it?

"Put your hands on the top of the trunk and spread your legs. I'm going to call this in, and I don't want you running off."

As she bent over, she felt the tickle of the wind in the cleft between her legs. Just below her chin, her breasts dangled freely inside her dress, unfettered by the thin fabric. She didn't need to look back to know that he now had an unobstructed view of her ass and pussy, and could probably see her tits and nipples as well. Ostensibly still clothed in the dress, she felt totally vulnerable and exposed. Worse, though, was the knowledge that she'd placed herself in this position.

The minutes passed like hours as she stood stretched over the trunk of her car. Occasionally she'd hear the crackle of the police radio, but mostly the only sounds were the wind in the trees and the birds chirping. She began to sweat in the midday sun, and soon droplets were gathering in the valley between her breasts and slowly rolling down her tits, to finally dangle from her nipples before falling onto the fabric below. She could feel sweat dampening the crack of her ass and the folds of her pussy and wondered how it might look to the officer. Did it sparkle in the sunlight? Or simply make her skin glisten? She didn't doubt that he'd be studying her cunt from the safety of his car. Or that he'd be imagining his cock thrust deep between her legs. He may appear dispassionate, but no man could resist such a blatant sexual come-on, no matter how unwilling.

How could she get out of this? If he just listened to her explanation, and didn't jump to any conclusions, she'd be able to convince him that she'd just made a mistake coming here. But if he didn't listen? Did she want to spend the weekend trying to clear this up? Or get Roger involved? He didn't have much of a sense of humor when it came to stupid mistakes. What she needed was a Plan B. Just in case.