Less than two minutes later, 3 cars from the tribal police had boxed the car in. The police were searching the vehicle and had the occupants out and sitting on the curb in handcuffs. About 5 minutes later, 2 more cars showed up with a shift supervisor and another officer.Steven was watching from around the corner at what was going on. He’d watched as the officers took the notepad from the back of the car and put it on the hood not knowing what the writing was. He’d gotten his monocular out and tried to read some of it. He managed to make out a couple words when he stopped.Steven knew exactly what language it was. He read and spoke Persian very well. He’d taken a course in college that taught him the basics. He’d learned the rest from his time in the desert with the Marines.Getting his phone out, Steven called the supervisor. He picked up after the third ring. Before he could say hello, Steven started talking. “Johnny, don’t hang up and pretend your talking to your boss. I’ll explain. She was able to contort her body in all different positions and sometimes she watched my cock going inside her feminine folds with great interest. She would even spit down at my dick going inside her to help me with lubrication the old-fashioned way. She was also no stranger to anal sex and would beg me to shove it, “all the way up inside” with a frenzied look of lust in her eye that confirmed her depths of depravity with no doubts on my part.I had a weird dream last night that I was a referee in a boxing match between Tippi the third chair on the defense team and Ms. Alexandra Honeysuckle the stunning prosecutor with the fantastic boobs and the great backside.The strange thing was they didn’t have boxing gloves.They were pulling hair and scratching with their long nails like a real alley cat fight and not a boxing match. I watched them kicking with their bare feet and using their elbows and knees in ways that most professional fights prohibited.Misty the clerk of court was cooling.
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