Date: Sat, 12 Apr 2014 19:59:19 -0400
From: Bradley Carson <bradleyjcarson@gmail.com>
Subject: Chief Jack Albertson - Chapter 3 - A Cold Snap

Welcome back to the fictional world of Pleasant View, Kentucky!  This story
brings back the characters and locales I first introduced in 2011-12, in my
previous series "Officer Jack Albertson," which can still be read in the
Adult Friends section right here on Nifty.

*DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction, based solely on the author's
own personal fantasies, and no real names or real situations are used.  The
character of Brad Carson's physical appearance is totally based on myself,
although nearly all other aspects of the character's life are totally
fiction.  If you are under 18 years old, or if it is otherwise illegal
where you are to read about masturbation and consensual gay sex between
adult males, then do not read this story.  Permission is NOT given to
repost or share this story anywhere else by any means.

************************************

Chief Jack Albertson - Chapter 3 - A Cold Snap:

Just then Ronnie – well, that was what they knew him as here in this
hick town, anyway - was looking through a pair of binoculars as he sat in a
nondescript dark sedan alongside the lake road not too far from where
Barney and Billy Jack had gone parking earlier in the evening.  He saw the
red lights disappear over the mountaintop.  He also noted that the lights
in that house across the lake had gone on and off again around the time the
latest flight was taking place.  Perhaps someone there had spotted the
flight.  Perhaps they would talk, but maybe not.

The next day passed uneventfully for Brad and Jack.  Justin and Jack had
not really said much else to one another yet about what had happened the
day before.  Eric still had not mentioned what he had seen the night before
to Justin or anyone else yet, either.

The housekeeper who took care of the guest rooms in the inn for Brad and
Jack had finished her work quickly, since only one room had been rented the
night before, but on this night three rooms were occupied.  At 6:30 that
evening, while Jack was putting the finishing touches on dinner in the
kitchen, Brad popped into the spacious downstairs back sunroom which served
as a large den and lounge space for the guests, and let the guests know
that he and Jack were going to be entertaining friends privately over in
the formal dining room on the other side of the rambling old house, but to
just let him know if they needed anything, and that otherwise he would
probably see them in the morning sometime.

Since Brad and Jack had owned it, the "breakfast" part of the "bed and
breakfast" had been handled each morning there were guests by Mrs. Mosely,
a kindly widow who was a good friend of Miz Vivian's.  This spared the guys
from either having to cook breakfast and tend to guests in the morning
hours when Jack was busy heading off to the station, and Brad was getting
ready to open the adjacent Mercantile.  As for dinner, with all the cute
restaurants that had opened during the resurgence of downtown Pleasant View
in the last several years, most guests preferred to eat out while staying
at the inn anyway.  In fact, on that particular night the West Virginia
couple had already left for dinner, and the one solo elderly lady traveler
and the other younger couple who were in the sunroom all said they were
about to go out too.

Having taken care of that, by 7:00 Brad and Jack were sitting down to
dinner with Justin and Eric, and Miz Vivian and her husband Hank.

"It is so good to see y'all again," Miz Vivian cooed.  She was dressed in a
strapless, backless, zebra striped dress that accentuated her
still-impressive bosom, even if it was definitely pressing the season a
bit, although it had been a warm spring day.  Over the top, age
inappropriate attire was one of the many charms of the unimitiable Miz
Vivian Arnow Anderson, though, and she had always reminded Brad of an odd
cross between Blanche Devereaux from "The Golden Girls," and the type of
sharp tongued, quick witted redheads that Eve Arden had often played in the
old movies.  Her much more demure and slightly older husband, retired
attorney Hank Anderson, chimed in that he, too, was glad to see Brad, Jack
and their friends again.

"We had the most wonderful time down home in Georgia," Miz Vivian related.
She and Hank had just returned from a long vacation in Miz Vivian's native
Vidalia, Georgia, where her family owned the ancestral plantation on which
she had grown up.  She and Hank lived just outside of Pleasant View in
Hank's family's own sprawling country estate.  When the pair had married
just before Brad and Jack did so, they knew that between them they had more
than enough money to last the rest of their golden years, and this along
with their genuine, parent-like fondness for the guys was what had led them
to give Brad and Jack the inn at that time.  Of course Miz Vivian was still
a business partner in the bottled water company with them.

As Miz Vivian was rambling on a bit about their trip, Brad was gazing
across the table and Justin and Eric.  Justin was wearing a grape-colored
button-down shirt, but his hard, muscled upper body was still very evident.
And Brad was thinking how much fun it would be to run his tongue into that
sexy cleft chin.  Those dark eyes and buzzed brown hair, and damn, that bit
of chest fur on display at the top of Justin's shirt.

Justin was also checking Brad out.  He looked so good in that light blue
polo that perfectly matched his eyes, Justin thought.  And those sexy
black-rimmed hipster glasses he was wearing just suited Brad.  Like Eric,
Brad was a chubby guy but carried it well.  Brad, however, was tall,
whereas Eric was sort of short.  At any rate, Justin was thinking about how
much he would like to kiss Brad's lips and then work his way down.

Meanwhile, Jack was having similar thoughts about both Eric and Justin, as
they both were thinking how much they would love to have the furry, beefy,
masculine police chief fuck the hell out of them, and then return the
favor.  He looked so hot in his pale green button-down shirt, his black
hair slicked back smoothly and dark blue eyes twinkling in the lights of
the candles on the table - Miz Vivian always said it just was not a real
dinner party if you didn't have candles, so they did.

And like his husband, Eric was gazing with pure lust at both Brad and Jack,
imagining the things they could do to him - hell, sometime right there on
top of that big antique oak dinner table if they got the chance.

Brad's other longtime best friend Bobby, who he missed seeing since Bobby
had moved back home to northeastern Kentucky, would say if he could see
this scene that the way the four of them were checking each other out so
lustily over the dinner table reminded him of the "Love and All the
Trimmings" sequence in that old Streisand flick "On a Clear Day You Can See
Forever," Brad was thinking to himself in amusement.

"Eric, Brad tells me you are still doing just a wonderful job running the
water plant for us," Miz Vivian drawled.

"Thank you, Miz Vivian, and I'm still very grateful for the job," Eric
replied sincerely.  The job as plant manager had come at a very good time
two years before, shortly after Eric had lost his job in accounting at the
local auto parts plant when it had shut down.

"So did y'all HEAR what happened down by the lake last night?" Miz Vivian
then asked with excitement.

"Oh Lord," Jack asked, "So did Barney or Daddy tell you about that?"

"What?" Miz Vivian asked.  "No, I haven't seen either of them today.  No, I
heard all about it from Flora Mae Tate this morning down at the beauty
shop."  Flora Mae was a neighbor of Justin and Eric's on the lake road.
Miz Vivian continued, "Well, I told her that she should have called you,
Jack, but she said she thought people would just think she was going crazy
in her old age - I had to remind her that she and I are NOT old, mind you -
but anyway."

"Umm, what exactly did she say happened down there last night?" Jack asked
cautiously.

"Well," Miz Vivian drawled excitedly, "She said she was letting that cute
little poodle of hers out to go wee-wee about midnight last night, when she
saw this horrible dark winged, red-eyed thing flying right over the lake
towards them!  Said it like to have scared her to death, and that she
grabbed little Fifi up, ran in the house, locked the door, and hid under
the covers until she finally fell asleep.  Peggy Ann down there at the Kurl
Up and Dye Beauty Shop heard her telling me that and told her she had dyed
that hair one too many times and lost her marbles, but Flora Mae swears to
Gawd the whole thing is true."

Jack then explained what had happened to his dad and Barney slightly
earlier the night before, also down by Pleasant View Lake.  He added that
the officer sent out to investigate hadn't seen a thing and that no planes
had been reported missing.

"Well, Flora Mae said it flew right over them as her and Fifi ran like hell
towards the house, and she got a pretty good look at the thing.  Said it
looked more like a muscular man with wings than any plane anyway," Miz
Vivian said.  "Can you imagine?  I mean I love muscular men, but sure as
hell not ones with wings and nothin' but a pair of big ol' scary red eyes
where their handsome face oughta be, thank you very much."

"Well, I can definitely vouch for Flora Mae not being nuts, that is unless
we both are," Eric spoke up, and everyone turned to look at him curiously.

He then filled his five friends sitting around the beautiful old antique
dinner table in on what he had seen from his and Justin's living room
window at about the same time the night before that Flora Mae and Fifi had
apparently also seen it much closer-up from outside her nearby house.

"Honey, why in the world didn't you wake me up?" Justin asked with concern.

"Well, it was gone, it flew off on the other side of that mountain across
the lake while I was watching, and besides I thought you would think I was
batshit crazy," Eric explained sheepishly.

"Well, it does sound a lot like that Mothman stuff you are so interested
in," Justin admitted.  "But if Barney, Billy Jack, and Flora Mae all saw it
last night too, then obviously there was SOMETHING flying around out
there."

The ever level-headed Hank Anderson had been taking all of this in, and
offered an idea.  "You all know bird watching is one of my hobbies.  A sand
hill crane can actually look a good bit like what they all saw last night."

"No, don't go there, with all due respect, Mr. Anderson," Eric disagreed.
"That sand hill crane theory was just what they tried to say was going on
in Point Pleasant, West Virginia back in the '60's, but none of the
witnesses then agreed, and that was definitely not what I saw last night,
either."

Brad mentioned that by coincidence a couple from Point Pleasant, West
Virginia was currently staying in the inn.  They all discussed the matter
further, and agreed that it was definitely mysterious.  The conversation
moved on to other things, and the pleasant dinner was soon over.  The group
all adjorned into the formal parlor for coffee afterwards, and after a bit
more conversation, Miz Vivian yawned and stretched and pronounced that it
was about time for her and Hank to be heading home.  Goodbyes were said all
around, but Eric said he thought he and Justin might stay just a little
longer, much to the delight of Brad and Jack.

The two couples went back into the parlor and sat down again after seeing
Miz Vivian and Hank off in the foyer.

"I'm glad you wanted to stay longer," Brad said to Justin and Eric.  "Jack
and I were wanting to talk to you tonight."  With that Brad got up and shut
the doors to the parlor and locked them, to ensure privacy from any guests
who might be wandering around.

"Must be serious," Justin said with a smile, hoping he knew what they were
wanting to talk about.

"It is," Jack said.  "I filled Bradley in on what happened between you and
I in the locker room yesterday, Just'."

"I'm sorry again about that, Jack," Justin said earnestly.  "I should not
have grabbed you like that."

"No, you shouldn't have," Brad spoke up.

"Sorry, Brad," Justin said, "you're right, I shouldn't have."

"Don't get me wrong," Brad added, smiling now.  "I am not happy that you
did that but I understand why you did - just before you thought."  Justin
nodded in agreement, and then Brad went on.  "But Jack and I talked about
it, and that is why we wanted to talk to you tonight.  And, we think that
if you guys are up for it, we would like to pursue starting to play around
with you guys some.  See where it leads."

"That is great," Eric said with a smile as Justin nodded in agreement,
smiling too.  "Justin and I have talked about it too, and we think we could
all have some really hot times and get even closer as friends, too."

"So do I," Jack agreed.

"You guys have heard us talk about how hot it was when we played
exclusively with Bubba and James before they moved," Justin added.  "We
have missed that, and you guys are the only friends we have who we feel
attracted to enough and trust enough to maybe get to that point with
again."

"Same here," Brad said, and Jack agreed.

"Let's try to set up a time when we can just see what happens and where we
can go with it," Jack suggested.

"No time like the present," Justin suggested with an evil grin.

"Not with guests in the inn - I have a feeling we won't be the quietest
foursome if this goes like I think it will," Brad said, grinning.

"I was just kidding," Justin said, "But you are right about that.  Here
isn't the greatest place anyway - I don't see how you guys ever manage to
fuck without Nanny and Poppy tourist overhearing."

Jack laughed, "Good thing about a big ass old house.  We're way at the end
of one wing of the second floor, and the six guest rooms we rent out are on
the other side.  But, you're right, I think we could be a lot more flexible
at your all's place."

"Jack, I can't wait to show you how flexible I can be, buddy," Justin said
with an evil smirk.

"You are bad," Jack said, laughing.

"How about Saturday night then?" Eric asked.

"Sure, seven o'clock work for you guys?"  Brad asked.

"Yeah, that'll be great," Justin agreed.  "If this cold ass weather is gone
by then, we'll have a cookout first before we see what all else we want to
get up to."

"Sounds good," Jack agreed.

The unexpected spell of cold weather to which Justin was referring had
moved in rather suddenly, just since they had dinner.  When seeing Miz
Vivian and Hank off a little while before, they were all surprised at how
the temperature had plummeted while they were eating.  Hank had to loan Miz
Vivian his blazer to drape over her scant dress as they dashed to their
Lincoln parked out front.

Justin and Eric exchanged hugs with Brad and Jack as they left to go home,
and everyone noticed that everyone else was more than a little aroused.
Saturday night was sure going to be a memorable one for the two couples.

While the dinner party had been going on at the inn, Ronnie had been staked
out in the same place by the lake as the night before.  There was no flight
that night, however.  Finally at around the same time Eric and Justin had
left the inn, Ronnie decided that he had done enough of this for one night.
It was time to head back to that ratty apartment they had gotten him on the
other side of Pleasant View and get some sleep.  His aching back reminded
him that his current one was one of the gawdawfullest cover jobs they had
ever assigned him to – never mind if he did think he looked pretty damn
good in those brown uniforms.  He started the car and the radio came on to
Mix 94.5 up in Rosemont, a pleasant old/new pop station he had taken a
liking to since coming to Kentucky.  "What a wicked game you play..." came
the sexy velvet voice of Chris Isaak out of the speakers, as the station
was playing the singer's signature tune which had been a big hit back in
the early 1990s.  At this Ronnie chuckled to himself and began to softly
sing along, as he started driving down the lake road back toward town.  Ok,
so he had to admit that he did look a lot like the guy, even if Isaak was
about fifteen years older than Ronnie.  Ronnie just hoped he still looked
that good when he did get to his late fifties, as Isaak was now.

The resemblance, Ronnie remembered, had been the source of one too many
jokes from other agents back when he first had joined the FBI.  "Twin
Peaks: Fire Walk With Me" was playing in all the theaters back then, with
Isaak was playing FBI agent Chet Desmond.  Whatever name they gave him
after he was done being "Ronnie," he damn sure would make sure it wouldn't
ever be "Chet."  He had heard way too much of that in those jokes back
then.  All of that, and his time as an FBI agent in general, for that
matter, seemed so long ago now though, and frankly so – was innocent the
right word?  At any rate, those naïve guys who were still with the
Bureau thought they were tough shit - just like he used to - but actually
they just simply had no idea what really went on in the shadows.  That much
Ronnie had come to be sure of.

Without knowing who lived there, Ronnie was soon passing by Eric and
Justin's house as he drove back to town.  The female DJ on the radio cooed
that this was, "a Mix 94.5 Classic Double Play," and soon Chris Isaak was
singing, "I know somebody and they cry for you..." as "Somebody's Cryin'"
began.  Again Ronnie sang along with his doppleganger, but he was thinking
when the hell did the early '90s become "Classic"?  God he was getting old.
Meanwhile, inside the Mid-Century Modern house he was driving past, with
its huge glass windows overlooking the lake, which Ronnie thought made it
look a lot like the one that had been perched on that cliff in "North By
Northwest," Eric and Justin had just gone to bed.  Justin smiled and
wrapped his arms around Eric and pulled him close as he kissed him.  Eric
responded and kissed Justin hard as both of their dicks began to grow.
Eric was always up for making love with his man, even if he had thought
that after last night's great sex they might be just turning off the lights
and going to bed tonight.  But then they both had gotten pretty horny
earlier thinking about their upcoming evening with Brad and Jack, though.

Eric Jamison was five foot, eight inches tall with a typical furry cub type
of body and a nice six inch cock which was rock hard at the moment.  His
dark eyes, behind wire-rimmed glasses all day, were now gazing into
Justin's, the glasses having been laid aside on the nightstand before he
got back into bed.  Justin loved his geeky little bearcub, and as hot as it
was pounding him the night before on the deck, what he really loved lately
was to get fucked by him.  He soon was lifting his legs to Eric's
shoulders.

"Fuck me, baby," Justin said lustily, gazing up at Eric in a way that made
Eric's already rock hard cock throb even more as he quickly grabbed the
lube front the nightstand, greased up and entered his tall, handsome
muscular cop man.

"Uhh!" Justin exclaimed in pleasure, as Eric's cock hit bottom and began to
slowly fuck in and out of Justin's tight ass.  "Harder!"

Eric obliged, and soon was full-throttle pounding his hot man.  His hands
were reaching down and kneading and pinching Justin's muscular, fur covered
chest and nipples as he fucked him so hard.

"Oh-UH!" Eric grunted, "FUCK that ass is so good, baby!"

"Ah-UH! Uh!  FUCK ME!!!" Justin groaned, loving how his man's cock was
filling inside of him.

Soon they had rolled around, Eric's cock never leaving Justin's hungry ass,
so that Justin was now astride his hot bearcub and riding the hell out of
that hard cock.  "Oh GOD!  FUCK!!!" Eric groaned, loving how Justin's ass
was feeling as it bounced up and down again and again on his throbbing
member.

They were both sweating now, in spite of the chill that had crept into the
house, as a cold snap had moved in and the temperatures had plummeted since
dark.  Eric thrust up to meet Justin's hot hole again and again, loving how
their lovemaking was feeling.  He reached up and pinched both of Justin's
nipples hard just then.  "I'm gonna cum!!!" Justin groaned.  With that he
shot seven or eight huge, creamy globs of his hot sticky cop cum, which
splattered down all over Eric's furry chest.  "Ugh!  FUCK!!!"  Eric
exclaimed, as he shot his own big load up into his man.

Meanwhile, upon arriving back at the Battlefield Apartments on the tired
side of Pleasant View – my God, did they always have to be so cheap when
moving him to a new town? – Ronnie walked into his two-room efficiency
in what had once been a roadside motel and slammed the door behind him,
kicking off his shoes as he walked across the room.  He turned on the heat,
as the temperature had turned very cold, at least for April, just in the
last couple of hours.  Frost was a possibility that night, meaning he might
have a windshield to scrape before starting that godforsaken UPS route the
next morning.  Joy.  When reading up on the region before starting this
assignment, Ronnie had learned that Kentucky weather folklore calls for a
"little winter," or "cold snap" to coincide with the first spring blooms on
each of the various area flowering trees.  He had found this to be
surprisingly accurate, and judging from the profuse deep red blossoms of
the redbud trees he had noticed while driving the UPS route earlier in the
day, he supposed this must be what the yocals called "Redbud Winter."

At forty-three years of age, Ronnie had never been in a serious
relationship, although he had enjoyed more than his fair share of sex with
both men and women way back in his college days.  Graduating from Stanford
with honors at 21, he had taken that first FBI field office job fresh out
of college, and had not really ever looked back since along the long,
strange road that had led him from there to here.  With his tall, lean,
muscular body, hairy chest, shock of slicked back dark brown hair, still
rather boyish face, and piercing blue eyes, he did indeed look very much
like the singer and actor Chris Isaak, and was as a result nearly anyone's
definition of sexy.  But, as far as sex, somewhere along the way Ronnie
without really even realizing it had become what you might call a
solosexual.  He truly preferred getting himself off to anyone else's
attentions; it was better and a hell of a lot less trouble.  Especially for
a man who never even kept the same name or the same town for very long.

Ronnie sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his socks, and began
to unbutton the plain white dress shirt he had put on after changing out of
the brown UPS uniform earlier in the evening.  He stood up and tossed the
shirt carelessly aside, his nipples hardening as the still-chilly air of
the room hit his lean, muscular, hairy chest.  He slowly unbuttoned his
dark dress slacks, but walked over to stand before the full-length mirror
on the back of the bathroom door before going any further.  Ronnie gazed in
smiling approval into the mirror at his erect nipples and strong chest,
running a caressing hand gently across them.  He gasped in audible
pleasure.  He slowly slid down the zipper of the black slacks, dropped them
and kicked them aside, freeing his long, slender flaccid cock to flop above
his big full ballsack.  He had gone commando that night, sensing that his
obvious bulge and the even more obvious ridge of his cockhead in the tight
black pants had given a cheap thrill to all of the women and more than a
few of the men when he had strode cockily (quite literally) in to have
dinner at the Ramblin' Rose Diner in town before going to the lake to watch
that night's activities.

Ronnie ran his fingers through the black bush above his cock, which was an
impressive five inches even when soft.  He then caressed his big, full,
hair-dusted nuts, and gasped in pleasure again.  His impressive cut rod
began to rise to attention then, quickly becoming rock hard as he watched
in delight in the mirror.  It was soon standing at its full engorged nine
and a half inches, as Ronnie began stroking it fast and hard.

"Ahh!  Oh yeah!" Ronnie grunted approvingly at himself in the mirror.  He
soon was sprawled on the bed, long hairy legs spread wide, loving every
second of jacking his long slender prick fast and hard.  He tended to go
for a long time and to be a huge, shooting cummer, and tonight was to be no
exception.  As he was midway to his release, Ronnie was too distracted to
know that a long, black Cadillac had pulled into the spot out front next to
the black Crown Vic that Ronnie was driving while in Pleasant View.

The man in the old Cadillac had also been noticed when he stopped at the
Ramblin' Rose earlier that night.  The diner had recently reinstituted
old-fashioned car hop service for the first time in decades, and the
like-new '67 Sedan DeVille and the man in it both turned several heads.
When he had stopped for a late dinner at ten o'clock before driving to the
lake, the man noted that the temperature was already starting to drop as he
rolled down the window and placed his order into the speaker in a very
precise, pleasant, crisp voice with all the diction of an old-school radio
announcer.  The girl inside who took his order through the drive-in speaker
would later also describe his voice as sounding, "Sorta almost mechanical -
you know, like the NOAA Weather Radio sounds giving a storm warning, or
almost like those computers who talk for people who can't."

The waitress who brought out his order noticed that the man was probably
every bit of 60, but was still incredibly handsome, as he again rolled down
his window when she approached with his order and as he took it and paid
her for it.  He, like his ride, looked like he had just come from the set
of "Mad Men," dressed in a white shirt, black tie, and black suit. He was
very slender and very tall, which was apparent even when seated in the
Caddy.  He had slicked back salt and pepper hair, and really the most
handsome face the waitress had ever seen, especially on a man of his age.

He didn't really say much at all, she would later recall, but she clearly
remembered that big, wide, handsome, but somehow unsettling smile that had
remained plastered across his face throughout their little transaction.
She thanked him and was still staring into that smile as he rolled the
tinted window of the Cadillac back up to have his dinner and block out the
chill night air.  As she walked back into the restaurant, she noticed that
the twenty he had handed her, waving her off when she started to give him
change, was more than just a really good tip over the cost of the man's
Rueben and fries.  It was also a really old bill.  A closer look revealed
it to be a 1966 twenty, bearing the signature of LBJ's treasury secretary.

Ronnie was reaching a shattering orgasm there on the bed now.  "FUCK!! Oh,
FUCK!!! Uh!  UHHH!!!" he grunted loudly, not caring if the neighbors heard,
as volley after volley of thick, white cum began to fly from his big dick.
Two squirts hit him right on the mouth and chin.  As the orgasm was still
rolling through him he licked his lips, tasting his own sweet cum in
delight.  He scooped up some more off his chest and ate it lustily.  Soon
he was asleep, sated and tired, and still bare-assed naked there on top of
the covers of the broken down old bed.

He had no idea that the Cadillac had pulled in out front.  He had no idea
that the man driving it was now standing just outside the window with its
shades which Ronnie had neglected to close, thinking secretly that he
wouldn't care if someone did get the pleasure of watching him pleasure
himself.  The man from the car was rather glad he had missed that
spectacle, although the drying cum on Ronnie's chest hair and the way he
was peacefully sleeping neither left any doubt as to what he had just been
up to.

Ronnie's self-pleasuring was of less than no concern to the man from the
Cadillac, though.  He had much more important matters to deal with.  The
man straightened his black jacket, climbed back into the Cadillac, started
it, backed out and started driving back out toward the country, where he
could make his rendezvous undetected.  He was thinking back to having been
through Kentucky on the way to West Virginia for that infamous first
assignment of his way back when.  He had been only 18 back then, but had
looked much older.  Now, ironically, everyone said he looked younger than
his 65 years.

Only the two red taillights of the vintage Caddy were visible in just a few
moments, as Indrid Cold drove on out of town.

TO BE CONTINUED...

*NOTE: The author welcomes positive comments and feedback from other adult
gay males.  Send emails to bradleyjcarson@gmail.com and I will look forward
to hearing from you and responding. I especially want to hear from you if
the story causes you to have a good orgasm...or several!