Officer Kaz yawned wide. She had once looked eagerly across what she privately saw as her highway. That had been six hours ago. Now it was boring. Hopelessly, totally, and irredeemably boring.

At first, Kaz hoped for some commotion. A gang of hopped-up bikers right out of Mad Max; a kidnapping victim banging on the trunk lid; even some rich bastard in a Lamborghini driving three times the speed limit. Nothing happened, and as time went by, Officer Kaz disabused herself of the notion that chaos was a good thing. Of course she liked to swing her truncheon into her rowdy suspects' unsuspecting gonads, and a cavity check was a great way to amuse herself. But this was a tired, boring kind of shift, and Officer Kaz had begun fondling herself in the last hour or so. In light of the urge to jizz while on the clock, Kaz was happy for the peace.

It was difficult not to fondle herself, and the reason why was, at least in the beginning, benign - her crotch was always uncomfortable. Because of limitations in the binary, male-or-female paperwork that came with the job, she was issued female trousers. There was simply not enough room in them, because Kaz, though her profile read female, had generous male equipment.

Like any good officer of the law, Kaz performed simple adjustments now and then. Most often, she tweaked her low-hanging balls so one testicle went down either leg hole. It was a far from ideal solution for a cramped situation, but dammit, an officer of the law had to adapt. Kaz knew she wouldn't get promoted if she complained about silly things like not having enough ball room.

But any time Officer Kaz fondled herself, no matter how noble the intention, she ended up going too far. The short of it was that Kaz was an otter, and though some of her lutrine fellows denied it, otters had hair-trigger sex drives. A rub and a nudge to repack her package was typically all it took. On some days, even a breeze could set her off.

A car went by. Kaz had one paw on the radar trigger, the other on her penis, which appeared in lewd relief down her pantleg. The car was going two kilometers over the speed limit, and slowed to five under when the driver saw her cruiser. She shook her head and sniggered.

Kaz dropped the radar in the seat. She rubbed insistently on her cock bulge and shivered. "Nothing to do tonight," she murmured. "Glad I've got a good imagination..."

Indeed, the otter had many experiences to draw on for inspiration. In short, she got around. Her absolute favorite thing to do was to play the part of a trap; and more often than not, she wrecked the asses of muscular idiots at the gym expecting some free pussy. And best of all, they usually came like nobody's business in spite of plaintive claims that they were absolutely not fags. Bullshit, Kaz thought now, a grin spreading big and toothy across her face.

She unbuttoned her uniform top. No bra underneath that, just like there were no panties under her trousers. Reaching into the folds, she fondled one of her plump tits, tweaking and twiddling the nipple to wake it up. When it was stiff, she gave it a twist and crooned.

Kaz was getting hard. That would became uncomfortable in a hurry, as she knew from experience, so she stayed one step ahead of her eager meat and opened up her fly. The scent of musk wafted from between the flaps of her trousers, mixing nicely into the sweaty smell permeating the cab. Kaz lamented that she stank like a man on these sweltering shifts.

Officer Kaz reclined her seat by a few degrees. The glans of her throbbing pink meat bumped the bottom of the steering wheel, smearing droplets of pre on the vinyl. It was far from the worst fluid that had ever been spilled in a police cruiser.

She glanced half-heartedly down the road both ways. Then she grinned at the taboo of what she was up to, and she gripped her penis like a flight stick. Moron bodybuilders with tight asses and sissies with eager muzzles could get her off all day, but in the end, nobody could work her pecker quite like she could do it herself. She knew all the best places to touch, where to linger, how to add to the experience. As she stroked up toward the glans, she bunched up her foreskin around the knob and gave it a polishing rub. And when she pulled on down, baring the tip in its entirety, she teased her piss slit with a blunt claw. It made her shudder.

Kaz slid her webbed paws up her taut body, stopping to squeeze her breasts, making their plush flesh bulge around her fingers. She felt her pulse throb in them and then let go, but before she let her paws fall away, she pinched her nipples to the point of masochistic delight.

Once again, Kaz gripped her meaty shaft. She masturbated quickly, and her precum dribbled copiously onto the floor mat, each drop landing with a distinct pitter-patter. She curled her toes in her boots and gripped the door handle. Rather dully, she looked out at the empty highway, but behind her eyes she was picturing any one of the men she had plowed in her life. They were all such fine lays. Kaz loved having a dick.

A deep groan escaped Kaz with a heave of her bust. She arched out of her seat, feeling the tingle of an orgasm, but it was a false start. She nevertheless paused and gripped the foremost inches of her cock tightly, keeping the foreskin bunched up over the glans just in case she popped. As the pleasure died back, she eased off.

A great amount of pre which had collected in her foreskin spilled loose in large droplets and smeared into her fingers and across her webbed membranes, spreading musk and moisture. She shamelessly lifted her stroking paw and savored her dirty fingers. Kaz not being one for half measures not only sniffed them, but also ground them against her nose. Then she sucked them clean and licked her webs, and only then did she return to her masturbation. Now the smell of her own penis was smeared across her nostrils like a film, and she was ready to go the distance.

Kaz fondled her heavy balls. The downy fur sluiced through her fingers, and she noted with self-satisfaction that her entire coat was so cuddly. Being a girl in spite of her downstairs, Kaz liked to know she was pretty and well-groomed. In the same moment as she praised her good grooming, she squeezed her nuts, albeit not as masochistically as she liked to twist her nipples. The mild pain still made her bite her bottom jowl, and she hissed, letting her eyes roll back and close.

Just a few tugs more on her fat prick did the job. The otter pointed her toes inward involuntarily, and she curled them as much as she possibly could, bending her sturdy boots. A warbling moan shook out of her and her breathing pulled into uneasy huffs. "Fuck, ah, fuck," she uncreatively bleated. Her taut body trembled - and then she started to spurt.

Her first rope, like a warning shot, was ineffectual and stringy. It hit the bottom of the steering column and diffused, then thinned out and dribbled to the floor. But there was no time to appreciate the strange beauty of this first rope of semen as it formed stringy webs and mutedly shined in the dome lights, for Kaz had much more to give.

Through her enormously pent-up ejaculation, Kaz covered the steering column and the floor mat beneath with a coat of fresh spunk. She held her cock tightly, hoping to aim it down and mitigate the mess, but she could not resist the impulse to masturbate through her climax. She jerked and tugged, and her spitting cock blasted its mess on her face and hair, her bared tits, and the ceiling of the cruiser, ruining the felt with a stain which would no doubt puzzle many officers for years to come.

The database computer got a facial on its touchscreen. She bestowed upon the passenger seat a wad of her cum which would eventually form a stain nobody felt comfortable asking about. Finally Kaz's high-pressure spurts ended, and her penis then merely dribbled down itself in a slovenly manner. The laziness of the drool fit the tired way it fell flaccid so soon after the big event. Kaz herself fell back in her reclined seat and completely ignored the Ferrari that tore past her at what was easily twice the speed limit. "Fuck it," she breathlessly said aloud, hanging a sticky paw out the window. "Break time."

Officer Kaz made a half-hearted effort to clean up with some thin napkins from the coffee shop, but gave up not long after cleaning her person. Cruisers came back to the garage in worse condition. At least, as she would argue when accosted by a superior, the car was still running and had no blood in or on it.

But that was later. Kaz sat back, still fully exposed, and grinned. Being a cop was almost as fun as being a chick with a dick.

Story Credit : https://www.furaffinity.net/user/ceeb