Page 12 of The Fed Sex Man

“Why am I being stopped?” Tyson asked.

“We’re searching for someone,” the officer responded. “License and registration, please.”

“A specific someone?” Tyson asked. “Do I fit the description?”

“License and registration, please,” the officer said.

“Is the individual you’re seeking driving a 2004 Mustang Cobra?” Tyson asked in a snide tone. “Silver in color?”

“License. And. Registration.” The officer cocked his head. “Please.”

The please was in the most sarcastic of sarcastic tones. It was just my luck. My first date since my junior year in college, and it was going to end with Tyson and I being hauled to jail before I got a chance to show off my mad blowjob skills.

While I prepared for the car doors to fly open and the cuffs to be snapped in place, Tyson explained his position further.

“Under the Fourth Amendment of the United States Constitution, I’m protected against illegal search and seizure. Lujan versus State made it clear that the state of Texas has deemed random checkpoints contrary to the Fourth Amendment,” Tyson said in a stern, but respectful, tone. “There’s no specific reason for stopping me, therefore this is an unwarranted stop.”

The officer stared blankly.

“Am I being detained?” Tyson asked.

The officer leaned away from the window. His eyes thinned to slits. His right hand hovered over the holstered pistol that was secured to his belt.

Oh. My God.

We’re going to be shot.

Tyson and the police officer glared at one another. After what seemed like an eternity, the officer broke Tyson’s gaze.

“Sarge!” the officer shouted. “You’re going to need to come over here.”

The sergeant meandered to the officer’s side. He looked at the window, and then at Tyson. “Roll the window down,” he demanded.

Tyson shook his head. “I can hear you just fine.”

The sergeant lowered his mouth to the opening. “License and registration, please.”

“Under what grounds am I being stopped?” Tyson asked.

His voice was expressing the irritation that was obviously building within him. I had no idea why he was so frustrated and wondered why he didn’t simply comply with the officer’s demands.

“We’re looking for someone,” the sergeant said.

“Do I fit the description?” Tyson asked. “Was he driving a silver Ford?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” the sergeant responded.

“Am I free to go?” Tyson asked.

The sergeant motioned beside the police cars that were parked in front of us. “Pull over and shut off the car, Sir.”

“Am I free to go?”

No, you’re not. He just told you to pull over.

“Pull over and shut off the car, Sir?”

There, see? He wants you to pull over.