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Skinny Hitchhikeresses All Hookers, Cops
By Brian K. White
Apr 11, 2007, 11:00

Yeah, Baby, you'd better watch out, thems legs is cop legs... hot cop legs

I'm a beneviolent man. I always hold doors for old ladies, throw pennies into the tray, pick up to deliver hitchhikers and entertain whatever needs they may have. My kindness has never been rewarded, but also never punished like it was last Friday around midnight when the needy ugly I picked up turned out to be a cop.

I always pick up hitchhikers so long as I can't spot a machete. I've been w/o wheels before and I know how sincerely it sucks. Further, if my newfound passenger should offer to trade me a quarter for a smoke, who am I to decline? That's a smart investment for sure. Lately, however, my fiscal sensability has gotten me into trouble.

First off, let me assert how very annoying it is to pick up a stranded, off-hours pedestrian only to discover she's only looking for drug cash, for a handy BJ, or to contribute to the cum-dumpstery of her ill-flavored tuna-coochie. Mind you, I'm not a heartless man. I know true need when I see it and always part with what few dollars I have to help such thusly binded and bound women, but what followed is a tale outright outlandish.

Just last Friday I was cruising the main drag near the airport when I saw a semi-attractive hitchhiker I'd never seen before. When I picked her up I immediately noticed she lacked the trademark hitchhiker intravenous trackmarks and underlying ugliness. She wasn't pretty for sure, but her ugliness seemed more natural and less drug induced. I was excited to help her get where she was going. Hell, I was halfway to cumming her there already.

Then it got weird. Unlike normal stranger passengers in my non-descript late model sedan, she only made conversation and all without a peep about HJs, BJs or sopping wet VgJs. For a minute I wondered if she was too high, but figured the caravan of Chevy Capricees in my rearview were deferring her from offering due gas money.

Boy was I wrong. Even though I could smell her stanky cock-socket I then assumed she was a cop. No big deal to me as I was just giving that ugly whore a lift, cellulite and all. I addressed her assuming she was an undercover police officer when I said, "Listen bitch, you gonna suck this hardass boner or what?"

Apparently "hardass boner" was a keyword because she pulled her gun on me before I knew what was happening. This wasn't out of place for me as, again, I hasten to point out I've picked up girls hitching before. What was strange was that it accompanied a dozen police units surrounding me.

Being surrounded by cops whilst driving a young crack-lady around is also nothing new, but nothing I haven't been able to talk my way out of. What nipped me in my Beethoven's Balsac was the uncommon combination of bitch, badges and cop cars.

It was fully 20-hours of cornhole protecting terror before my understanding wife was able to bail me out, but I'm not upset.

They aren't as innocent as they look. They're undercover detectives and they're about to nail you, um, er, cuff you? Whatever.

I still vehemently assert my innocence, and so does my ridiculously overpriced attorney (with a success record to match his rate of acquittal and dismissal), but I've learned a very important lesson. While picking up hitchhikers is still the sign of a big heart, it's imperitive to determine that your passenger is in withdrawl before requesting compensation for transit, warmth, and even gas.

Also, if she doesn't look like a traditional streetwalker, thrash her about the places she might tote a wire so severely that the transmitter will fail and she'll be incapable of testifying. Just say she might have had a weapon, the police love that lie of an excuse for beating one to death's very doorstep.

So for now I'm on probation, if you have any ugly friends I might lie to or coerce, your referral would be greatly appreciated.

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