Raped policewoman

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The sun was going down as I yawned and forced myself out of bed. Most people get up when the sun comes up, but here I was making my way into the kitchen for my first cup of coffee at sundown. I had been doing it for almost two months now and my body still hadn't adjusted. By the time I finally did get used to it the bastards would change my schedule and I'd be right back where I started, futilely trying to catch up on the hours I had lost.

As I sat in the kitchen nursing a cup of discount instant coffee that tasted like boiled eucalyptus leaves, I asked myself for the thousandth time why I was putting myself through this shit. Here I was, a 25-year-old woman with a degree in sociology and an IQ of 134, keeping the hours of a night watchman.

You probably think I'm a dog, a regular bow-wow. Well, forget it. Everybody who's seen me says I'm attractive and I have to admit it's true myself: the bulges I see in men's trousers when I walk by don't lie. I have long lustrous raven hair, high pointed tits as firm as marble, long sinewy legs that love to wrap themselves around things, what everybody says is a terrific looking ass, and a cunt framed by a luxuriant growth of silky black pussy hair that can fuck all night. Right now, if I had a normal job, I'd be getting off work and undoubtedly some great looking stud would be taking me out for drinks and dinner and later we'd hit the sack at my place or his and his hot steaming prick would be pumping up my throbbing pussy.

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