Dear Penthouse:

I never thought this could happen to me...

One night, I guess I was speeding as I drove home after what could best be described as a long day at work. I was almost on my last nerve when I heard the sirens and saw the police lights behind me. I was being pulled over. 

But I was pleasantly surprised to find that the policeman walking towards my car was a woman. A hot woman. Her cop shirt strained against her enormous tits. She wore the standard navy blue micro-mini and stiletto boots issued to women police.

She bent over. I couldn't keep my eyes off her perfect cleavage. "Do you know why I pulled you over?" she asked.

"N-no," I replied. My penis was erect, if I remember correctly.

"You were going 65 in a 35 mile per hour zone. May I see your license and registration?"

My hands fumbled nervously with the blow torch as I went about melting the ice barrier the secures my glove compartment.

I gave her my license and registration. We got to talking. She likes The Smiths. I said I do too. Then we talked for like half an hour about Morrissey. I've never met a woman who liked them as much as I did and in the same way too. And it seemed like she was getting into talking to me.

But I couldn't tell though if she would want to date me or if she was just...I didn't want to ask her out and then have her freak out, "I was just talking to you! No I don't want to go out with you!" So I didn't push it. But, as I was driving away, I was like, "You know what? She might have said yes. She kind of looked at me when I said bye." And she said, "I never get to talk about The Smiths." Why would she say that if she wasn't at least a little interested? I shouldn't have rushed the conversation like that! Fuck! 

Oh, wait. Her name was on the ticket. Maybe I can call her. There we go. I'll do it tomorrow. We'll see. She also didn't seem that interested, though. I mean she would have put her number on the ticket too, not just her name. But maybe she's not allowed to.