FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A good start to a summer week can hardly take a better form than a good cold cup of ice cream. There's just something about sitting inside the parlor to eat it, whole atmosphere brought together between the white tile floor and pastel walls, the posters of blown-up, deliciously detailed, and far too perfect menu options advertising sales and new flavors, the entire place feeling like a refrigerator that someone had unplugged half an hour ago - all the while the sun blazes outside in an empty blue sky, rays coming down bright and full between the buildings. If you look closely, you can see the wispy heat-haze vibrating up from the black asphalt of the road.

Still, though, I had things that I'd like to get to, so I remained long enough afterwards to let the remains of my ice cream melt into the bottom of the cup, which I tilted back onto my tongue before leaving the place. The heat of the day hit me like a wall as soon as I pushed against the glass door, the little tinkling of the bell hanging above catching my ears for a moment. It wasn't really so bad once you got used to it, but that transition from cool ice cream parlor to thick, heavy summer heat... God, I felt it. That dropped the week's good start to a good-ish, especially combined with how I'd gone out for ice cream to treat myself after a somewhat tough shift at work this morning.

Unfortunately, though, that good-ish started to drop into something a little bit less so once I'd turned the corner around the next block. That corner led down a slim yet clean alleyway into a mostly-unused back space between a building on this street and one the next over, something that could have been used for a parking lot if not for the impossibility of access except, say, on a bicycle, like the one I'd taken with me today. A police cruiser did sit at the curbside just in front of the alley, though.

However, it looked as though someone were standing right next to my bike, locked to a partially rusted signpost. A Doberman, it looked like, short pointed tail sticking out from the pressed grey of her clothing and velvet-backed triangular ears standing straight up atop her angular muzzle. She just... stood there, arms crossed in front of her chest, weight leaning to her left, looking down at my bike. Then, suddenly, one of those ears flicked back towards me, with her gaze swiftly following.

A footpaw started tapping, then, and I took a closer look at her outfit. It wasn't just color-sensible with a grey top and black pants, nice and proper, clean and tight. This Doberman had a badge patch sewn onto her left sleeve, a heavy belt with a radio and a couple pockets, a certain unyielding strength to those brown eyes and thin mouth. I realized what I'd gotten myself into almost before she popped open one of those pockets to take out a notepad and pen.

"Hey, hey, now, wait a second-" I held a paw out as I approached, shielding my eyes from the sun with the other. The officer turned to face me fully, now scribbling something out on the ticket. "What are you doing? I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"

Those brown eyes flashed up at me above the rim of her notepad and, without saying anything, she jerked the back of her pen up towards the very sign I'd chained my bike against. NO PARKING, it said, in faded pinkish-red lettering with a little image attached.

Frowning, I looked back down from the sign to her, and the bike. "I don't..."

Then in a smooth, low voice, like molten chocolate if she weren't halfway through writing me a ticket: "You aren't allowed to park vehicles here."

"It's a bike."

"_Technically,_that's a vehicle. I work by what the book says." As she spoke, the Doberman's eyes drifted up from her notepad and to my muzzle again, then from there down over my shoulders and body. Getting a good read on her target, judging whether she'd be able to properly restrain me were I to resist. "What's your name?"

Before I could think about it- "Lukas."

"Last name."

"Kawika."

The officer shifted her weight to her other leg and clamped her pen between her teeth for a moment. With her paw now free, she flipped through the pages of that notepad a bit. "Lukas?"

"With - with a K." God, already my heart was beating in my throat. I don't like conflicts like this.

"Mm. Yeah." For some reason it seemed like she looked longer at me than at her pad. "Let me see... otter. River otter? River otter. About... five-seven?"

"Five - five-eight."

"Five-eight. Blue eyes..." Another few pages flipped. "...Oh, my. You've got a knack for misbehaving, don't you?"

That made me frown. Sure, I have a bad memory, but the only run-in with the police I can remember was this one time in early high school when someone I only kind of knew was found to have weed in his locker, and they asked me to help out... "I... what?"

"It goes on and on." She kept her voice smooth and even, eyes glittering as she looked between the pad and my face. She had stuff on me written down in there? "Downloading things you shouldn't..." Th-thump. "Using public internet for that, nonetheless..." Th-thump."Distributing unlicensed pornographic material - yes, homemade content counts..."Th-thump. I didn't even know they could book you for that one.

Also - my account is private, and there's no way I'd let a police agency follow me. Unless she used her personal account, in which case - well - who could blame me?

"You..." I swallowed. Throat felt dry. With that one word, the Doberman's sharp eyes fixed on mine again, and it felt like someone suddenly jabbed their thumb against the base of my spine, shooting me upright and forcing me to fix my posture. I think she hit all three points on that: a gaze forceful enough to crack a brick wall at ten feet is obviously a known trait of officers, of Doberman dogs, and of self-assured women. "You have all of that? Right there on that... in that..."

Something in her look, then, a little tweak to her lips, a slight curl to her otherwise straight line of a mouth, or that glimmer in her eyes - something made me trail off, made the fluttering in my chest turn to something slightly different. She stood about a full head and a half above myself, and since I'd been so scared of breaking eye contact, it took me until now to notice that she wore the top of her uniform with one too many buttons open. Black bra against dark-chocolate fur, the color difference magnified in the midafternoon sun.

"Oh." She tapped the end of the pen against a spot on the notepad, though because of that height difference - and how she kept it angled away from me - I couldn't see what it said. "Look here. Two counts of public indecency..."

That one couldn't_be legitimate. I mean - yeah, sure, I've had my pants around my ankles in public _several times, but I've never been approached by an officer or arrested for it. Not even for that time in the bookstore, or at the pool, or the nude beach (which, come on), or in the bathroom at the science building on campus before I graduated, or-

"Lukas."

My gaze had drifted... towards that slight flash of black fabric. I swallowed and forced my eyes back to hers, not trusting myself to speak.

It continued, though, that something in her look that made me doubt the ticket and the past infringements. There was definitely a flick to her ear and tail, and the slightest suggestion of a smirk on her lips. The slim alley closed off most of the sounds of the road, though every now and then the wssh of a car passing by still drifted in.

"I can't help but wonder, you know. Otter like you. Two counts under your belt..." The tap of her pen against the waistband of my pants made me jump. I don't wear belts; the Doberman flicked the hem of my shirt up, glanced down, tapped the button of my fly. "So to say. I don't imagine that you're looking to add a third to that?"

At first, I could do nothing but swallow, squirm, and try to keep my mouth shut. There's no way that she... but, then again, a hunger glimmered in those dark eyes that probably couldn't be sated by something like a cup of ice cream, little bubblegum bits included. The way she held her weight like that, how she'd intentionally - there was no way it wasn't - unbuttoned her shirt like that, the... the flash of fang and tongue to her sly little grin. How she now leaned against the signpost, one arm stretched above her head against it for balance, and her sleek canine body between me and my bike.

Sensing my hesitation, the officer shrugged with her free arm and straightened up, again putting her chin above the top of my head. That small movement sent a soft hint of her scent up against me, rich cloying canine underneath a softer perfume above... "Or, maybe not," she went on, that note of eagerness now replaced by nonchalance. "I could just send you off with a warning, and we'll be good."

"Well-" That one word ensured that her gaze fixed right back on my muzzle, and there was that feeling again. Like going on stage for a performance in high school: I've got to do well. I've got to do my best. Short, smooth fur, soft like velvet, the hint of sleek muscle visible in the shape of her body even through her uniform... my words felt dry in my throat, yet still I managed to get them out. "I guess I could - uh, at least resist arrest?"

"Could you."

Her reply came nearly before I'd finished the... offer. Suddenly an entirely different glitter came into her gaze, and this time there could be no denying the smile that touched her lips. She reached up to brace her arm against the pole again, and then she was leaning forward over me, wrapping me in the gentle scent of dog and heat and interest. Another car went by on the street beyond the alley; I thought I could hear the edges of a conversation, too, before it was gone.

Had her scent strengthened? It was probably the close quarters of this unused space back here, tall brick walls on four sides with a cardboard pallet in one corner, and two windows across from us. Luckily, though, those windows looked black and thick with the dust of disuse - though before I could double-check to be certain, her strong, strong paws suddenly gripped my shoulders, pushed me the three or four steps back against the wall, and pinned me there, breath forcing its way out of my mouth with a huff.

I certainly hadn't gotten manhandled by a police officer before. Nervousness flashed through my chest, seeing her face again, feeling the power in those arms and the confidence of her moves... until she stopped, and I waited. The grip didn't tighten from there, but she certainly didn't let go, either.

Then - "Well?"

I swallowed. The tip of my rudder flicked between the back of my leg and the wall. "W... well what?"

In a flash her paws repositioned themselves, one gripping my waist with her thumb lifting up underneath my shirt and the other under my arm, and - and suddenly it was my chest and the side of my muzzle being pressed against the brick wall instead, the pores of the surface grabbing and pulling against my fur, while the Doberman leaned in over me from behind. A firm grind forward under my forcibly-raised tail, a push and slide of heavy yet tight breasts against my upper back, a hot breath in my ear - and in another smooth movement she clasped both of my wrists in one paw, her other still in place at my waist.

"Resist."

So I tried. I really did. I pushed off against the wall, I tried to hook a footpaw around her ankle, I squirmed and shook and wriggled... and, really, all I succeeded in doing was grind even more firmly back against her, the so-familiar feeling of a warm body pressing up underneath my tail just making my squirm in a different way. Her breath came out against my ear and the side of my muzzle in short little bursts, a silent laugh; out of the corner of my eye I could see sharp fangs glittering in a fuller grin.

"Hmm. No wonder you're on record so many times." Blunted claws played at the short fur right along my hip, the ends of her fingers just barely teasing beneath the waistband of my jeans. Even as the officer did that, she still pulled me back against her, working her hips up and forward under my tail and then sliding back down, not in the blind forward-and-back of someone unused to topping, but with the smooth confidence of someone who preferred it. She didn't - have a strap underneath there, did she? I widened my stance a little, pushed back again... earned a chuckle in response. "You can't get away even if you try."

"I mean..." Okay. The struggle had made me a bit breathless. Especially with the way that paw on my waist teased closer and closer to my fly... when had she put her pen and pad away? "I can try without really wanting to."

Abruptly the Doberman shifted her muzzle to my other shoulder, and brought that paw sliding smoothly up my chest underneath my shirt. The feeling of calloused pawpads and short claws running through my short fur sent a shiver down my back, and before I knew it, I'd grinded back against her again. Down that paw went, then, back towards its original place, though this time it kept on going until she'd hooked her thumb behind my fly and cupped her fingers around the stiff ridge just below, sourced from more than just the zipper.

A squeeze, a tug, a slip of her thumb behind the button to pop it free, and then from there back behind the waistband of both my pants and underwear beneath... "Oh. Look at that. Sexual acts in public. I'll have to add that to your list, too."

Hearing the Doberman say things like that with such stoic confidence still made my heart flutter in nervousness, but at the same time... I gave my best attempt at a growl, as much as an otter could do, and pushed back against her again. And also throbbed in her grip, still separated by the thick denim fabric.

"Don't mouth off at me," she went on, fingers trailing up towards the hanging flap of the button-clasp. Another second and she'd found the zipper itself, and with a smooth, swift pull there, then a little shimmy to loosen my jeans... and the officer finally slid that thumb beneath the elastic of my underwear again, pulling both that and my pants halfway down my thighs in a smooth motion around my waist. She made sure to pull forward in front, giving enough room for my already-hard shaft to spring out into the warm summer air. "And- what's this? There's your third public indecency count..."

"What? Are-" My words caught in my throat, then melted into a sigh when her paw wrapped around my cock, slid towards the end, drew slowly back towards the base. My hips gave another thrust. "-you gonna arrest me?"

"Hmm." The Doberman continued stroking me slowly, the languid rhythm of her paw - she gave a squeeze with her forefinger and thumb each time she drew over my head, foreskin bunching up for a moment there and making me squirm - matching that of her hips, still grinding and shifting against my partially-revealed rump. "Let's pretend I haven't decided yet. Though I am curious..." She bobbed her head around over my other shoulder again, then gave my ear a small nip between sharp teeth. That one sent a warm shiver bouncing down my back, which ended in another throb in her paw. "May I borrow some more of your time, citizen?"

"You may." Then, an idea. With the next grind against the canine, I widened my stance a little more and then shifted, allowing the officer to tug my pants down a little further - and then I looked over my shoulder, trying to hide my residual nervousness behind a cocky grin. "Just in case, I'd like to say that I consent to a strip search.

Her answering scoff made that ear flick. The Doberman's weight lifted from against my back, though her grip still held on my wrists; next thing I knew, she was pulling me backwards over towards the pole against which my bike was still locked. "Don't push your luck. I guess I will have to cuff you, though."

"I guess you will."

Sharp brown eyes flicked up to me, then, in the brief moment when I turned to her. That same hunger and eagerness still glimmered there, though, and I could tell that her gaze lingered on what she'd done to me before the jangling of the chains caught my ears - and the stiff metal, made warm under the sun, clasped around one wrist and then the other, binding me not too tightly to the pole. Finally I could straighten back up, and I did so without concern for how my pants continued to drop down my legs.

Honestly, a good part of my confidence only came from the intensity of it that she displayed. The officer took a step back, then, one paw on her waist and the other at her chin as she looked me up and down, down and up, up and down again. I squirmed underneath that powerful gaze, realizing in that minute that she'd gotten me in a _hell_of a position: handcuffed to a pole, my bike's lock keeping me from sinking down to the ground to sit, pants and underwear halfway down my legs and boner on full fuckin' display.

Then, though, she drew my gaze back up on her through the simple act of popping another button of her shirt open. Maybe the Doberman knew that that would catch my attention, and that I'd follow those dark-furred paws of hers as they drifted slowly down her front, finding and releasing the clasp of her heavy belt, pulling it open a bit, then opening the fly of her pants as well... and a hint of matching black panties slid into view for a moment, before it just disappeared again behind her paw. Two fingers seeking, rolling, spreading through fabric, diving down, sending a spark of a shiver up her back, which echoed out between parted lips as a breathy sigh.

I looked up to her muzzle again and swallowed, expecting her to come forward and pull my muzzle down against that black fabric, or for her to pull it to the side and grind against my face just as she'd been doing under my tail, but... instead, the canine dropped to a low squat in front of me, resting one paw on my hip and returning the other to my length. A few faster strokes, forward and back, pushing me against the pole and drawing a full-body shiver out of me... and she made sure to wait for eye contact again before she pursed her lips against the end of my cock, placed a gentle kiss there, then swirled her tongue in beneath my foreskin and dove down.

A low _thunk_reverberated through the metal of the pole as soon as my head bumped back against it, jaw hanging open in a sigh as warm as the summer air. The handcuffs jangled around my wrists again as the Doberman made me wriggle and strain against the pole, lifting up onto my tiptoes and settling back down in rhythm with her slowly bobbing head, broad flat tongue cupping my cock as she went down and then swirling around when she came back up.

I swallowed again and looked back down, watching her angular muzzle bob between my legs, taking me to the hilt so that I could feel the warmth of her exhaled breath waft through my pubic fur... and she opened her eyes and met my gaze once more, which of course knocked it astray. So powerful. She worked slowly, deliberately, diving down and remaining there with her tongue pressing my shaft up against the roof of her mouth, suckling just enough so that I could feel it; and when she came back up, she'd let her paw follow, again bunching my foreskin up at the end so she'd have something to dig that tongue underneath.

Actually, from here against the pole, if I stretched my neck I think I could just barely, _barely_see a sliver of the sidewalk and road beyond... and my heart leapt in my chest every time someone walked by in either direction, especially when it seemed that they had their muzzle pointed _this_way. The officer didn't seem to notice or care, though; another few slow, steady bobs, paw following her muzzle, and then she drew back and swallowed, thick strand of saliva still hanging between her lips and my twitching cock.

"There we go," she rumbled, and stood back up. "You're all ready now."

Words came at a bit of difficulty to me, between heavy breaths: "...Ready? For what?"

The canine just gave me another sly, hungry grin, a fang sticking out from under her upper lip, as she slid her pants just far enough down her legs. That drew my eyes again, down towards soft, glistening pink flesh visible between strong, tight thighs, the fur there melding from dark blackish-brown to a softer rich caramel.

Then, though, she paused, one paw still clutching the waist of her lowered pants. She glanced at me again. "Are you comfortable?"

"Huh?"

The Doberman leaned in, not enough to put her muzzle level with mine, but just so to make me wriggle again. "Are you comfortable."

I swallowed. "W-well, um - the cuffs are, kinda... like, with the lock of my bike, and-"

That lean in suddenly became a lot sharper, and with a jerk of her arm and a tense snap, the chain keeping my paws bound to the pole broke, releasing my arms from that slightly-uncomfortable position. Confused, I rubbed my wrists, and looked up at her. "What-"

"They're breakaway cuffs." The Doberman resumed sliding her pants down, then decided to leave it at one leg still on. "I wouldn't use actual cuffs on someone who hasn't done anything wrong. Yet."

"And you just - have those with you? What if you mix them up for the real-"

The officer wouldn't let me finish that statement. Smirk still across her muzzle, she leaned in too swiftly for me to react and took each of my paws, the broken cuffs still clinging to both, and swung them up over my head - and somehow, in a firm _click_after only half a second of fiddling, managed to reattach the chain. This time, though, she'd bound me with my arms up over my head, so the most I could do was lean forward and try to wrap my tail around the pole for balance.

"Wh-" I tugged on them, putting all my strength from both arms and the weight of my body, and still all I succeeded in doing was make them grind against the pole and rattle my bike a little bit. The officer's grin deepened; she continued with her pants, finally kicking them and her panties off of one leg.

"There. Is _that_more comfortable?"

I swallowed yet again, following the smooth line of that bare leg. "I - I mean, right now, yeah, but it'll... hurt in a bit..."

"Then I won't take long."

"Wait!" I eyed her belt, still hanging around the waist of her half-discarded pants. "What if something happens and an actual criminal comes by? And you're..."

For a moment the Doberman frowned, confusion flashing in her otherwise bright brown eyes. Then, though, leg half-raised in preparing to swing it around me, her ears perked and she breathed a soft laugh.

"Oh, God. Jeez, Lukas, I'm not a policewoman. I - I'm a high school security guard."

I looked her over again. Fooled me. "Wait..."

"I mean..." She motioned down at her half-undone shirt, and the heap of pants hanging over one footpaw. "The grey. I don't have a gun or a taser. My radio's been dead this whole time. I can't actually arrest anyone. I thought..." She frowned again, then shook her head, leaned in, nipped at my neck, drew her paw up along my still-hard length. "Jeez," the Doberman murmured into my ear, "I'm sorry, hon. I thought you knew and were just playing along."

Admittedly, though, finding out did lead me to bump my head back against the pole again and breathe out a sigh of soft relief. So earlier when I'd asked her if she was going to arrest me, and she said let's pretend I haven't decided... "Gosh."

Warm fingers wrapped around my length again and gave a few more pumps. Suddenly I was made aware of the closeness of her body, and how she had me angled down between her legs... "I'm sorry if I scared you. It's just - I'm in heat, and you're cute. And you didn't say no, so."

"Wait, wait. So my bike-"

Her other dropped from my shoulder to my waist and she pulled me forward a bit, tugging on the chain of the handcuffs. The canine's height advantage meant that she could angle her lower body forward, rub the saliva-slickened head of my cock up against soft wet lips, push forward a little bit - and make me squirm all over again. So, so close. "I could write you a ticket, but nothing more. Not like I was going to. I don't have the right paper for it - all I've got is literally just a lined notepad."

It took effort to nod over towards the alleyway leading to the street. "And the cruiser?"

"My partner's. He's actually_an officer." Abruptly, the officer - or not - turned, bent over, slid the underside of my length up along her rear, against the base of her tail. Such sharp, wet heat there, and I could feel the deliberate twitching and clenching of her tailhole when she pushed back again... and then her paw was there again, angling me just a little bit further down, holding me in place even as I tried to press forward to sink into that warmth. "He's dealing with a disturbance at that apartment, and I got horny. Just - gosh, I _am sorry if I scared you."

Another growl rumbled in my throat, this one more impatience and desire than annoyance. I tried thrusting forward again, though only managed to strain my shoulders a little bit. "Give me an orgasm and I'll call it even."

Gosh, I could feel the heat of her glare even when she just looked over her shoulder at me and rolled her eyes. I gave the Doberman my best innocent grin in response, but _she_certainly had a response to that: a slow push back, a slight widening of her stance, an intentional squeeze, and yet again my head thumped back against the metal of the pole, and my hips strained forward to bury as deep inside of her as the handcuffs would let me.

This was, of course, not very far: I'd already pulled myself forward, and the canine took her sweet time in sinking slowly back onto me, slick wet warmth squeezing around my cock as she went, velvet-soft and wonderful. She kept one paw on her knee for balance and the other reaching back to press against my waist, keeping her movement on track as she went as well as pushing me back each time I tried to thrust forward again. It felt like - like when she'd had her soft tongue wrapped around my length from the underside, squeezing and slippery yet sticky, so, _so_warm. I shivered yet again, swallowed, let out another breathy moan, and for a moment thought I could hear her do the same.

Even if she preferred topping, there was no denying that she still loved this at least as much as I did. I could feel the shivering, the shaking of her muscles as she continued to push back onto me, past the halfway point and there picking up a bit of speed and force. Finally I let my legs and hips relax, letting the Doberman take over as I'm sure she'd intended from the start; not much longer and her rump pressed against my hips, earning another buck and throb from me, and then they kept on going. Pushing, squeezing, pressing my lower body back until I had to take a couple awkward half-steps away, and she grinded her body on mine against the pole.

From there it was easy going for her, and hell and a half for me. The canine flashed another hungry grin over her shoulder at me and got right into it, pulling herself forward and sliding smoothly back onto me, pushing me back into place against the unforgiving metal nearly before I could lift away to thrust. Again and again she went, squeezing around me as she did so and releasing, slick warmth dragging along my cock and pushing back, drool and arousal dripping down along my underside towards my sack and into a small dark spot on the concrete between my legs.

Soon she straightened up a bit, maw hanging open to let her panting out as loud as it might come. Head tossed back, eyes closed, hips working with the same hint of up-and-down beneath the rhythm as they'd had when she'd pressed up underneath my tail... and finally I could find some space to push forward against her rhythm, to sink further, deeper inside of her, so strongly wanting that feeling of being entirely buried in that wet heat. God, I could - feel each squeeze of her muscles, how she wanted it, too. I gritted my teeth, strained against the handcuffs, let out a tense sigh.

"Just..." the canine panted, tongue hanging out of her mouth, "let me know, okay? I don't want you- to-"

"Yeah. Yeah..." It was hard to swallow. Throat felt dry. Now the steady sound of her body pushing against mine joined the ever-present distant cacophony of the city, and the occasional noise of a car going by. I was still kept conscious of that. "I'm - getting there, if you'd... just..."

My own body wouldn't let me finish that sentence. A hot, sharp wave of pleasure burst through my lower body, leaving my maw in a long, shivering sigh of a moan, and I pressed forward into her and tugged back until I bumped against the pole yet again; and, smirking, the Doberman glanced over her shoulder, slowed her rhythm for a fraction of a second, and took up the force and pace of the thrusting that I'd suddenly stopped. She pushed herself back and slightly up with her knees, other paw still braced there, using her own momentum...

"A-actually..." I had to swallow again. "About... about that, I-"

She licked her lips. Loudly. "Hm, already?"

The same eager growl from before made its way out from between my gritted teeth, and all of a sudden my tired body tried to take the rhythm right back up again, though too-strong Doberman hips kept me pinned against the pole. Even keeping me buried inside of her like that, she still found the space to work her body on me in _just_the right way. I swallowed again, I groaned, and grunted, and squeezed my eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth; I pressed forward against and into her as firmly as I could, settled back, forced myself forward again, rose up onto my toes, pulled on the handcuffs...

...and she pushed back once more, did whatever that was that felt so good, and right as that breath forced its way back out between my teeth, the Doberman pulled forward and reached a paw out to the ground to balance herself as I bucked forward into the open air, sending one, two, three, four spurts across the back of her uniform and up past her shoulder a bit... and then a few more lazier dribbles right down by the base of her tail, milky white against near-black, trailing down towards the puckered pink of her tailhole just below.

She watched over her shoulder, blinking back as that second longer spurt went by, then grinned. "There. Even now?"

Still panting, and now with the handcuffs the only thing keeping me upright, I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we're... even.

"Good." She took a moment to straighten up, run a pair of fingers between her legs, shiver and gasp, then reach down to tug her pants back up as though nothing had happened. A thick strand of slickness hung between those two fingers as she redid her fly, though, I noticed. "Unlike another part of you, Lukas, your warrants came up dry, and... I guess I can let this third count of indecent exposure pass," this last part said with a drag of those two fingers along the underside of my slowly-softening and _very_slick length.

I shuddered, jangling at the cuffs in doing so. "Rrf. Did that - pay my bail?"

Another eye-roll. "God. Don't make me ask for ball-gags to be made standard issue. I will need those cuffs back, though, so let me just..."

The canine made sure to lean in over me then, reaching up and behind me to give the chain another firm yank to pull them free. Finally released, my tired arms fell forward to my sides only for her to lift each wrist and, through some trick of her fingers, to pop the cuffs themselves free. If I'd tried, I'd probably be able to do that, but... whoever said I wanted to be free? I couldn't help but grin at her, and when she noticed, she rolled her eyes again, then stuck her tongue out and winked.

"You know, um..." I reached down to tug my pants up. The Doberman crossed her arms and watched. "That... uh, on your back, with the - the grey, it..." Wet spots really stand out.

She just shrugged. "I've got a jacket in the cruiser."

"In this weather?"

There was that ghost of a smile again. "Gotta be prepared for these things, right? You did take me by surprise a bit, though."

"Just imagine how I feel."

"I think my partner's about done, though, so I should be on my way." She brushed past me on her way towards the alley, briefly wrapping me in her scent again. Seemed like I'd only temporarily satisfied her; she did say she was in heat, right? The swinging of her hips, the sway in her tail, the way she looked over her shoulder again... "Thanks for humoring me today, Lukas."

"You, uh..." I scratched behind my ear. "Didn't give me much of a choice."

"I so did! I _asked_you!"

"I thought it was legit!"

"Well..." Another wink. "At least you'll know next time, right? Also, right - gotta get you your ticket..."

"Huh? I thought you said it was... bullshit..." I reached out as she handed the paper to me, looked across it, then returned to her and that devilish glimmer in her eyes. "...Oh. Yeah. Next time."

As she left, my eyes lingered on the streaks across her back. To think she was willing to go out in public, to walk across the sidewalk, with the evidence standing out like that... but, then again, she'd probably reek of me too, right? Just as I did of her. I looked back down at the "ticket".

Next time. Now I had her phone number, and no name to put to it.