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Santana gropes a boob over the layers of fabric and sighs in frustration. There’s no easy way under the short-sleeved but high-necked dress, which is layered over an even higher-necked, long-sleeved t-shirt, which is probably layered over a totally unnecessary bra.

“Jesus Christ, Girl-Chang. Did you design this outfit specifically to keep your tits safe from me?”

Tina can’t tell if Santana’s trying to be funny or what. Brittany is the one who insisted on this very specific outfit, as they both well know. The white t-shirt was no problem, and the baby-blue dress was a pretty simple design so she just sewed one, but it took her some time to track down stripey pastel tights and lime green plastic rain boots in her size. “You don’t have to touch my ‘tits’ at all,” she points out. (Tina kind of hates the word tits.) “There’s no making out at all between the guy and the girl in the comic book.”

The comic book, that’s why they’re here.

Santana’s cousin Hugo is a cop in Philadelphia. They visited while they were there on tour with Mercedes, and he gave Brittany this comic book about, like, what cops are allowed to do to you if they arrest you or something. Santana’s not sure if that’s what the whole comic book is about—she’s only read the part that Brittany made her read the next morning (and many times since).

It was way too early, but the way Brittany rubbed up against her and whispered “Santana” all seductively in her ear made her not mind too much about missing out on sleep. But then when she smiled and opened her eyes Brittany just shoved the book in front of them. “This is so hot,” she said.

The book was open to a sequence of panels of a blonde, female cop handcuffing and searching—pushed up against the side of a car—a young, blue-haired woman in a blue dress, striped tights, and kid-like rain boots. It was kinda hot, Santana agreed. Not hot enough to be woken up early, maybe, but...

“Don’t those two remind you of someone?” Brittany prompted.

“Uh, you and me?” The cop definitely looked like Brittany. Santana didn’t actually see herself in the arrested chick—she would never wear that outfit, for example, or dye her hair blue...but comic girl did have a skin tone that could plausibly be called Hispanic. Anyway, it didn’t matter. If Brittany wanted her to be that girl in a role play or something, she’d be more than happy to do it.

But you and me wasn’t the answer Brittany was looking for. “You’re not an Asian with blue hair!”

Oh, that girl was supposed to be Asian? Santana looked again. Yeah, she could see that. But she had to point out, “We don’t know any Asians with blue hair.”

“Tina, silly!”

Oh, right, Tina. She had never had all-blue hair, and it had been several years since she had the blue streaks even, but okay.

Santana was honestly not that thrilled to see Brittany getting all hot and bothered at the idea of a Brittany-Tina cop-arrestee scenario. If it had been someone that Brittany hadn’t ever actually slept with it wouldn’t be so bad, but...

She knew it was just the one time. And it was like two years ago and she and Britt weren’t together at the time so it wasn’t cheating or anything. And it wasn’t like Brittany constantly brought it up or talked about Tina a lot, so Santana didn’t think she was harboring any secret feelings. It was just a little weird.

But Brittany was really excited about this damn comic now. And she really wanted to act it out—not with Santana as Tina, but with Tina as Tina. She wanted Santana to be Tina’s boyfriend, who’s also arrested but who’s a much more minor character. Basically Santana would be there to watch.

Which...Santana ended up agreeing to. Hey, she likes to make Brittany happy. And it’s not like they’ve never played with a third person before. She did refuse to help try talking Tina into the idea, though, and she absolutely refused to have any part in Brittany’s plan to steal a cop uniform from Hugo.

But she ended up helping with both.

The less said about the uniform theft, the better, but convincing Tina to play was actually shockingly easy: they pretty much just had to ask. Santana actually might have respected Tina more in high school if she’d realized then how slutty she was. But it does make her complaint now about making out with Santana a little annoying. “There was nothing sexual in the comic at all,” she counters. “The comic is just a departure point for the sex.”

“Fine,” Tina says. It really wasn’t clear to her when Brittany and Santana called and said they were going to be in Providence and wanted to get together that Santana was really going to be involved in the whole plan. But since she is—and since Tina’s already spending her Thursday night not finishing a huge paper that’s due the next day but instead sitting in her car on the side of a road outside of town about to get fake raped by a fake cop—she decides to make the most of the experience. And if that experience is going to involve breast-groping? Well, Santana’s are nicer than hers anyway, not to mention more accessible. She starts to unbutton Santana’s top.

“What are you doing?” Santana asks, placing a hand over hers.

“What do you think?”

“I’m supposed to be a guy,” Santana reminds her.

It’s a weird objection, Tina thinks, because Santana hasn’t made any particular effort to look like the blond guy in the comic, or like a guy at all. Yeah, she’s wearing pants, but not, like, super butch ones or anything. And she’s got her hair down and makeup and jewelry on. But rather than argue the point, Tina just says, “I always touch guys’ chests when I make out with them.”

Santana doesn’t buy this excuse for a second. Brittany told her all about how obsessed Tina was with her tits that time they hooked up. Not that she can blame her; Brittany’s tits are awesome, after all. As are her own. (They should be—she paid good money for them.) So, fine. Tina can touch them. She undoes the top four buttons for her.

Tina quickly unbuttons the rest and slides her hand under the bra before Santana can object. Hey, if she were making out with a guy who happened to be wearing a bra—wow, that would be interesting, wouldn’t it?—she would definitely reach under it. Of course, Santana feels nothing like a guy under her bra. She mainly just feels...weird. It’s weird touching another girl’s breast. It was weird with Brittany too, but everything about that night was weird in the awesome way things are when you’re high.

Nobody is high tonight. Santana wanted Tina to bring some weed—apparently she’s under the impression that Tina smokes, like, all the time and is maybe even a dealer or something—but Tina drew the line there. She’s a little worried about this plan anyway. Even though the road they’re on is pretty deserted, if any real cops do happen to drive by, they’re probably going to stop to investigate—or maybe “help”—what looks like a cop assaulting someone by the side of the road. And when it becomes obvious that it’s just someone impersonating a cop...well, they can hopefully talk their way out of it, but probably not if they’re caught in possession of drugs.

Tina twists and leans, trying to kiss Santana, because it seems like the thing to do when you’re feeling someone up. But everything’s awkward in the front seat of the car—the center console is in between them, and the steering wheel in front of Santana would make it awkward to try to sit in her lap or anything. Maybe Santana could come over and sit in her lap, or... “Wanna move to the back seat?”

“Why, you little minx.” So-called straight girls, Jesus. Well, Santana is super hot. Probably even Kurt Hummel wants to do her, if he’s being honest with himself. So Tina wanting her is no surprise, really.

They move to the back seat, and Tina immediately straddles Santana’s lap. She kisses her, and it’s weird and uncomfortable at first, but Santana has these lips that are almost as soft and plump as Sam’s, and they taste like cherries, and it’s nice. And she keeps sort of massaging Santana’s breasts and playing with her nipples, and then Santana moans a little, and it’s hot. It’s, like, really, really hot. Tina shifts a little bit, and Santana doesn’t have, like, a bulge or anything to rub against, obviously, but still, just...just moving around on her lap feels really good.

And it feels even better when Santana’s hands start moving up her thighs. The stupid striped tights she’s wearing are kind of thick, unfortunately, but she can still feel the warmth of her hands, and the pressure, as Santana is kind of squeezing, which feels awesome.

Santana wishes she hadn’t gone and moaned. It’s embarrassing to get turned on so fast by a straight girl who doesn’t even know what she’s doing. (Or does she? Maybe Tina’s been experimenting more in college.) It’s just that her tits are really sensitive—so sue her. But Tina’s totally writhing around in her lap, so she probably didn’t even notice. And it is actually pretty fun—making her writhe like this. Santana doesn’t even really notice what her hands are doing until they get stuck in the hem of Tina’s dress. Well, that’s easy enough to fix. She pushes the dress up around Tina’s waist—Tina even helps!—and grabs a tights-covered ass cheek in each hand.

Officer Brittany Lopez is on patrol. Keeping the streets safe. And so forth.

What’s this? A suspicious vehicle, pulled over off the side of a deserted road. Officer Brittany better investigate. It looks suspicious.

She pulls her cop car over—her unmarked car, that is; it looks like a rented Kia but it’s totally a legit cop car—and gets out. She takes just a second to check herself out in the side mirror. Wow, she looks super hot in this uniform, she thinks as she rubs a smudge off the Lopez name tag. She’s totally going to wear it when she fucks Santana tonight. After her cop shift is over, obviously. When the streets are safe again.

“Stop in the name of the law!” she announces as she approaches the suspicious vehicle. “Officer Lopez demands your license and registration!” She pounds on the driver’s window and only then notices that the driver’s seat is empty. As is the passenger’s. Her eyes are pulled to the back seat, where she sees her girlfriend with her shirt wide open and her hand between another girl’s legs!

That is...she knows it’s not Tina and Santana, it’s a cute but unknown blue-haired Asian girl and her boyfriend. But...she was expecting them to be in the front seat, and not making out quite so....enthusiastically. And Tina didn’t even dye her hair blue like Brittany asked her to! What the hell!?

She flings open the back door. “What the hell is going on in here, civilians?”

“G-good evening, officer,” Santana says, pulling Tina’s dress back down. Brittany actually looks kinda mad. She does tend to really get into it when they role play, though, so she’s probably just being in character. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Do you have a permit for these... activities?”

“We don’t need a permit,” Tina says. The girl in the comic is constantly talking back to the cop, so that’s what she’s supposed to do. “Leave us alone.”

“Out of the car,” Officer Brittany orders her. “Now.”

Tina scrambles out first. While they’re waiting for Santana to climb out too, Brittany whispers, “Why is your hair brown?”

“I told you I wasn’t going to dye it!” Tina whispers back. She tried to explain how much she would have to bleach her hair just to get it to hold the color and how it would be totally ruined, but apparently none of her explanation registered.

“You’re not very good at following instructions from officers of the law, are you?”

Tina’s not sure how to respond to that, because she’s not sure if they’re back into their characters or what. Luckily Santana’s here now, saying, “Officer, we were only—“

“That’s enough out of you,” Brittany dismisses her. “You just stand over there now.”

Santana closes her mouth and leans against the car door, accepting that her part in the evening’s activities is over. Except...she’s going to keep an eye on things. Brittany seems a little...well, she does get really into stuff like this, and Tina might not really be prepared. She has a safe word, of course—it’s Mr. Schue—but...Santana’s never actually had to use her safe word when playing with Brittany, and while she’s pretty sure Brittany would stop if Tina used hers...well, she’s just going to keep an eye on things.

That’s in addition, of course, to her agreed-upon job of watching for cars. The code word, if she sees one coming, is car!

“What was your boyfriend doing to you in that car?” Officer Brittany asks Tina. She holds a strand of her hair—which she’s just going to have to pretend is blue—and twirls it around her finger. “Was he hiding evidence on your person?”

“You’re not allowed to ask me that!” Tina objects.

“He was, wasn’t he?” Officer Brittany says. These damn kids today! Always hiding evidence on each others’ persons. The cute ones are the worst. Officer Brittany might have to teach this one a lesson. “I’m going to have to search you.”

“You can’t search me! I know my rights. The Fifth Amendment says thou shalt not... unreasonable search or seizure...“

Officer Brittany spins the blue-haired girl around to face the car. Blue places her hands on the roof—whether because she’s finally learning how things work or just to brace herself because she was taken by surprise, Officer Brittany can’t be sure. Probably surprise, given this one’s attitude. “You’re a mouthy one, aren’t you?” she asks. “Watch it, or I might find a better use to put that mouth of yours to.”

What? Tina’s not sure she’s okay with being “forced” to go down on anyone. “Brittany, we didn’t talk about—“

“That’s Officer Lopez to you, Blue.”

“You okay, Tina?” Santana calls over. She’s aware that nothing has actually happened yet and so she’s probably overreacting, but...

“Yeah, thanks,” Tina calls back. Just knowing Santana’s there paying attention helps her feel like nothing’s going to really get out of control.

“I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Officer Brittany tells Blue’s boyfriend. Turning back to Blue, she orders her, “Keep your hands where they are and spread your legs.”

“I want a lawyer!” Tina says.

Officer Brittany ignores this rude outburst and reaches down to push the perp’s legs apart herself. “Hold still while I conduct my search,” she warns.

Tina lets Brittany position her, and she holds still for her pat down. Brittany’s hands glide quickly up and down her arms and down her back…then around to her front and slowly up over her stomach before cupping her breasts. Tina gasps, and she’s not even sure if it’s a real gasp or a playacting one.

“Are you concealing any contraband in your bra?” Brittany asks lowly in her ear.

“No, ma’am,” Tina answers, forgetting for the moment that she’s supposed to be uncooperative. “I’m not even wearing a bra.”

“Really. Well, we’ll see about that,” Officer Brittany replies. She feels up the suspect’s chest thoroughly. Part of her job, after all, is to determine when suspects are being truthful and when they’re not. Manual, over-the-clothes inspection does not, in fact, indicate the presence of a brassiere. It does, however, indicate the presence of two perky little tits with increasingly hard nipples, and so Officer Brittany continues the inspection longer than is strictly necessary. Long enough to make the suspect moan, in fact. She speaks right into her ear again: “You like that, Blue?”

“Uh huh. Wait, I mean...” Of course Tina likes it—Brittany’s really good with her hands, and she clearly knows her way around a girl’s chest. But she remembers that she’s supposed to object. “I mean, no! You can’t just grope me like that! I have constitutional rights!”

Officer Brittany presses down on the suspect’s back to prevent her from trying to flee. She’s about to go back to her inspection when she hears Santana yell, “Car!”

Damn it! She lets Tina go and slides into the driver’s seat. Tina gets in the back seat, and they both just sit there waiting for the car to pass. Tina doesn’t try to talk, thank goodness. Interrupting the scene is distracting enough without out-of-character conversation.

They wait and wait, and no car appears. Eventually Santana opens the driver’s door. “False alarm, I guess.”

Brittany makes a noise of exasperated disapproval. That is, Brittany doesn’t; Officer Brittany does. Brittany is a very patient person who loves Santana and is totally understanding of honest mistakes. Officer Brittany...not so much.

“Sorry!” Santana says. “I swear I saw lights. It must have turned off or something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tina says. “I’d much rather be safe than sorry.”

Oh, that’s it. Like Blue is running this show now? Hell no. Officer Brittany steps out of the vehicle and opens the back door. “Out,” she commands her suspect.

Tina is no sooner out of the car than Brittany’s spinning her around and bending her over the trunk. “Jesus, Britt,” she huffs.

And then Brittany’s sort of on top of her, pressing her into the vehicle, and she says very seriously into her ear, “That’s Officer Lopez to you, perp. Got it?”

It’s so un-Brittany-like, the way “Officer Lopez” is treating her, it feels like they’re not even playing around anymore. They are still, of course. Tina reminds herself of that, reminds herself that the sudden jolt of arousal she’s feeling is okay because it’s just pretend. Even if it no longer exactly feels pretend.

Especially when her arms get pinned behind her back and the handcuffs go on. They feel so...so solid around her wrists.

“I asked if you got it.”

Tina gulps. “Got it, Officer Lopez.” She sees Santana move into her field of vision to make eye contact, and she nods at her to show she’s still okay. Then Santana moves away again, and Tina quickly forgets about her.

“I believe my search of your person was only half complete.”

“No!”

Why do the cute ones always resist? Officer Brittany wonders. Do they realize it just makes them hotter? She hikes Blue’s dress up over her ass. It’s such a cute ass, too. The stripes on the tights really accentuate its curviness.

She almost hates to pull the tights down. But she does have a search to conduct.

Tina shivers as she feels the cool night air on her exposed ass. Maybe agreeing to this little plan of Brittany’s wasn’t the smartest thing she’s ever done. Except…the cool air is hitting other places too. Other places that she didn’t fully recognize the heat and wetness of before the cool air hit. So even if this isn’t the smartest thing she’s ever done, it’s bound to be some kind of superlative.

Officer Brittany pushes the tights down around the suspect’s ankles. That should give her easy enough access for the cavity search.

Sadly, Tina only agreed to let Brittany search one cavity. Brittany tried to explain that that wasn’t realistic, but Tina absolutely refused to consider any scenario in which Brittany would poke around inside her ass.

She did agree that the outside was fair game, though, and now Officer Brittany rubs her hands all over the two round cheeks. She runs a finger through the crack—which does not count as inside—and finds nothing hidden there. She pulls the suspect’s cheeks apart and, holding them awkwardly with one hand, uses her other hand to shine her flashlight on the cute little asshole. Resting her finger outside the opening, she asks, “Anything hidden up in here, Blue?”

“No!” Tina replies hastily. She wonders if she’s going to have to remind Brittany of the terms of their agreement. But, no, she already feels her fingers sliding downward, away from her ass.

They’re on her labia now, tracing up and down her slit. “How about in here?” Brittany asks, super low.

Tina’s stomach drops. Brittany’s fingers are just barely touching her, but they’re still sending shivers up and down her sides. “No, officer,” she answers, equally low. She feels a gush of fluids that she knows will soon be coating the “cop’s” fingers. “I swear.”

“If you would’ve been more cooperative maybe I’d be able to trust you. But now I’m just going to have to check for myself.” Officer Brittany slides two fingers in between the suspect’s folds. “You’re so wet, Blue. What are you? Some kind of whore?”

“No, I…”

The perp rubs herself against Officer Brittany’s hand. “I think you are. I don’t think that was your boyfriend you were about to let fuck you, I think he was your trick.”

“No! I would never take money for sex,” Blue says, still rubbing.

“I actually believe you. You’re such a horny little nympho I’m sure you do give it away for free.” Officer Brittany holds the suspects clit gently between two fingers. “Free to all takers, am I right?”

Tina groans. She is starting to feel like a horny little nympho, actually. Brittany’s holding her down with the hand that isn’t on her clit, so Tina can’t even get any friction. She can feel her clit throbbing between Brittany’s perfectly still fingers, however. “Britt, please.”

What did you call me?”

Fuck, that’s right. Brittany’s going to want to stay in character and on script through this whole thing. “Officer Lopez, please. Please…let me go?”

“Let you go!? I’m trying to do a routine body search and you’ve soaked my hand with your arousal, and I’m supposed to believe you want me to let you go?” Officer Brittany flicks at the suspect’s clit until she gasps and swears under her breath. “Tell you what. You can go after you come.”

Two of Brittany’s fingers slide all the way inside her then, and all Tina can say is, “Oh, god.”

Officer Brittany starts out slow. Blue is just such a slut for her, gasping and moaning all wantonly. That boy she’s with probably can never satisfy her. Not like Officer Brittany can. It’s a real public service she performs: keeping the streets safe, doling out sexy justice.

Brittany’s hand is awesome. Her fingers are reaching deep inside, and the palm or something keeps brushing over her clit. It’s just…it’s frustratingly slow. “Brittany, please.”

“That’s—Officer—Lopez—to—you!” Officer Lopez reminds her, thrusting in hard to accentuate each word. “Do I have to fuck some respect in to you?”

Oh fuck, just like that. “You wouldn’t dare. Try it and I’ll call my lawyer.”

So that’s how Blue wants it, is it? Just let her precious lawyer try to get her out of this. Officer Brittany fucks her harder, and faster, and with three fingers now. Blue goes Fuck!

Wait, that wasn’t Blue. Officer Brittany looks around and sees Blue’s boyfriend watching, touching his crotch. She winks at him, planning to deal with him later.

Tina’s beyond the point of being able to stay in character. She can’t remember the last time she was fucked this hard by a guy, and this is so much more intense even beyond the fucking. She’s handcuffed face down on a car in the middle of nowhere, and Brittany is so into the roleplay that there’s some part of Tina that’s not completely sure she could stop this if she wanted to.

The thing is, she doesn’t want to stop it. Is that fucked up? Maybe, but it’s so hot that she doesn’t care. “I’m not a slut, you know,” she says, mainly hoping to goad Brittany into calling her one.

“Yes, you are,” Brittany says. “You’re the sluttiest perp I’ve ever arrested. You’re going to come while I take you on the side of the road.”

“Oh god!” It’s true, she’s about to come. She screams out into the night as her channel clamps down around “Officer Lopez’s” fingers. Her body thrashes as much as it can, and she hurts her shoulder pulling against the handcuffs, but it doesn’t matter because there’s so much pure ecstasy coursing through her body.

Her orgasm goes on and on—several minutes, it feels like—leaving her completely drained when it’s over. Resting against the trunk of the car, all she has the energy to do is wiggle her hands a little and ask, “Can you take these off now, Britt?”

Britt does, because she’s not Officer Lopez anymore. “Oh my god, Tina, that was so hot,” she says, massaging her wrists and then her shoulders. “You should have seen yourself. How are you doing?”

“Mmm…I’m tired and a little sore, but…good. Do you want me to…” They talked about it before and Brittany said she didn’t expect her to reciprocate, but Tina feels like she should at least offer. Not that she has the energy if Brittany takes her up on it.

“No, I’m fine.” That is, she will be fine once she gets back to the hotel with Santana. “You shouldn’t drive. You want me to take you home, or Santana?”

“Um…Santana, I think. No offense.”

“No, it’s cool. I’ll follow you guys.”

“I can stay with you as long as you need,” Santana says. “I mean, either of us can. Or both.”

Tina briefly wonders how long Santana has been right there with them. “Thanks,” she says. She wants to say that it won’t be necessary, that she knows the two of them are probably eager to be alone together. But she also knows there’s a chance she’ll freak out between now and getting back to her dorm room and really want someone to stay with her.

She’s not freaked out now, though. Just tired and sore. And she’s definitely not going to get that paper done tonight. Even if it brings down her grade for the semester, it will have been worth it.