EXTRACT FOR
Body-Swap Bimbo
(Alana Church)

Millie took a step forward, lifting her hand to trace a random pattern on the officer's uniform. "I appreciate you being so understanding. I really do. What's your name?"



The tall man glanced down at her. Millie had hated being a short man. But now she found that being a short woman was so much nicer. For instance, she could lean forward just a little and let him look down the front of her shirt.



"I've always loved men in uniform," she whispered, letting her voice go soft and breathy. "I bet a handsome guy like you has all the women ready to drop their panties, right?" She smirked naughtily. "Good thing I'm not wearing any.



"What's your name anyway, tall, dark, and studly?"



"Jim." His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Jim Bixby."



"Well, Officer Bixby. I've never been inside a police car like yours. You can show me yours." A wiggle, and she lifted the hem of her shirt in clear invitation. "And I can show you mine," she breathed, her voice low and husky.



Bixby's eyes seemed fixed on a point six inches over her head. "It is strictly forbidden," he said, as if reciting from a manual, which he probably was, "to request sexual favors in exchange for leniency. If an officer is caught doing so, he may face disciplinary action up to and including termination of employment."



What a bore! "Well, that's just silly. Request sexual favors?" she laughed. "You haven't asked me for anything!



"But what if I just decided to give something to you? Like a nice, sloppy blow-job? That wouldn't be wrong, would it? I mean, you're not married or anything, are you?"



"No. I mean, I had a girlfriend. But..."



"That's settled, then," she declared with a firm nod. "Come on. She tugged at his hand. "Open it up. And then I'll open up. My mouth, that is."



As if he was in a trance, Bixby turned and opened the door of his patrol car. Looking up, Millie could see the window of their apartment, and Poppy's face looking down. She waved cheerfully and climbed in beside Bixby.



"Jim. I can call you Jim, right?"



"Sure." His voice was hoarse.



"Well, I'm not going to fuck you, Jim. Not in here. There's not enough room." Millie smiled, moving closer. "That's okay, right?"



He nodded, eyes wide.



"Good. I like a guy who's not all pushy." Turning in the seat, she put her hand on his crotch. Yes, there was a little something there. Or more than a little something. Maybe a big something. "Now you just relax, sweetie." She hitched up so she could whisper into his ear.



"I'll take care of everything."