Date: Sun, 10 Aug 2008 17:45:48 +0000
From: hankster1430@bellsouth.net
Subject: The Secret Life of a Cop - Short Story

The Secret Life of a Cop
Prologue

Author's Note:

I am really having difficulty classifying this story.  It is based on fact,
but the facts as I know them are so scanty, that most of the tale is an
exercise in filling in the blanks.  At the end of the day, it's a work of
fiction based on true facts.

The story of Tom and Luke was related to me many years ago by a friend who
was acquainted with them.  My friend, let's call him Sam, died much too
young of ALS, Lou Gehrig disease, so unfortunately he can't fill in the
gaps, even if he knew them.  Obviously Tom and Luke are fictitious names.
I never knew their real names.  It doesn't matter.  I wouldn't reveal them
if I did know.  So make of the story what you will.  My only concern is
that you read it and enjoy it.

HWB


Part One

Let's start with Tom (Thomas Connelly).  He's twenty-eight years old; tall,
blond and handsome; a police officer with the West Palm Beach, FL police
department; a very tough cop; married to Maureen; has never cheated on her;
has two sons aged four and one; lives in suburban West Palm Beach at 2020
Commodore Circle; favorite sport is baseball; plays on a police hard ball
team; his best friend, and patrol car partner, is Luke.

Now let's talk about Luke (Lucas Demetrius).  He's twenty-seven years old;
tall, dark and handsome; a police officer with the West Palm Beach, FL
police department; a very tough cop; married to Emily: has never cheated on
her; has one daughter aged three; lives in suburban West Palm Beach at 2021
Commodore Circle; favorite sport is baseball; plays on a police hard ball
team; his best friend, and patrol car partner, is Tom.

When they are not working, tending the lawn or minding the children, they
each stand in front of their homes, which are directly across the street
from one another, and toss a baseball across the road.  That's really not
quite accurate.  Tossing conjures up a vision of an easy lob.  Their goal
is to throw the ball so fast and so hard that one day the catcher will not
be able to catch it in his well oiled mitt.  So far neither has been
successful, and each really hopes they never will be.  Sometimes, even
through the mitt, the palm of their hand is red and sore after the
pitching.  They are both in great physical condition and they are very
strong.

Tom's in-laws live in Tampa, FL and Luke's in-laws live in Queens, NY.  At
least twice a year, each of the wives takes a week or two off and visits
her parents with the kids.  When Tom's wife is away, he is expected every
evening for dinner at Luke's.  When Luke's wife is away, he is expected
every evening for dinner at Tom's.  It's a given.  There are no formal
invitations issued.  None are necessary.  After all, these two guys lay
their lives on the line as a team every single day of the week.

Every Saturday night, if the men are not working, the women get a baby
sitter and they go out together.  Sometimes, it's just a movie, sometimes
it's just dinner, sometimes it's dinner and a movie.  Once or twice a year,
it's a Broadway musical at the Kravis Center for the Performing Arts.  None
of them drink, and they rarely visit any local bars.

The men have each received several commendations for their heroic police
work.  More importantly, they volunteer at local boys' clubs and coach
baseball and soccer in their spare time.  Both are true heroes and role
models in their community.  All the kids look up to them, and aspire to be
just like them when they grow up.

The caption on their pictures would more than likely read: "All American
Hero" so no matter what you read from here on in, they will always be true
all American heroes.  I am about to reveal a very private secret and it
won't change who they are or what they represent.

Let me inform you that Tom has a tiny little secret.  He is gay, but he
doesn't know it for a fact.  He has not gone beyond voyeurism.  So far he
has limited his activity to reading gay porn on the internet and entering
gay chat rooms.  He himself does not chat, but reads everybody else's
postings.  So far, this big, strapping, macho man hasn't had the courage to
post a comment of his own, or to go any further than that.  His biggest
challenge is keeping his secret from Luke.  He is consumed with lust for
his work partner.

His most difficult moments are when he is alone with Luke in their patrol
car or in the showers after a baseball game.  He must control himself from
wanting to pull Luke to him, kissing his lips, sucking his cock, or shoving
Luke's cock up his ass.  It is pure torture for him, but so far Luke does
not suspect that Tom is in love with him.

Maureen is often too tired after a day with the kids to offer him sex, and
if she does, she has a `let's get it over with' attitude.  So Tom
masturbates a lot.  When he is whacking off he fantasizes he is with a man,
doing some of the things he has read about on the male porn sites.  It
doesn't seem to bother him in the least that he is fantasizing having sex
with a man.  It's an easy secret to keep to himself, and from his best
friend Luke, so far.

Often when Maureen has told him that she is too tired for sex, Tom goes
into his den to go online.  He not only closes the door, but he locks it.
He has a secret screen name and a secret password that he hopes Maureen
could never guess.  Even though Tom's cut cock is an average seven inches
hard, his secret screen name is `Wellhung.'  His secret password is
`Policebiz.'

Once on line, he enters his favorite chat room: `Twenty Something in WPB,
FL.' He scans the list of screen names of the people who are chatting in
the room.  If he thinks a screen name is particularly enticing or
particularly interesting, he clicks on that name and then brings up that
person's profile.  He has often been tempted to contact some of them, but
he always chickens out.  He wants to experience male sex so badly that it
hurts, but he is scared to death to pursue it further.

One night he entered the chat room and was attracted to one of the screen
names in the chat room, because it was almost like his own.  He clicked on
`Hungwell.'  Then he went to Hungwell's profile:

Age: mid twenties; (Reality Check: 27) Height: 6'1"; (Reality Check: 6'1")
Weight: 185 lbs; (Reality Check: 200 lbs.)  Hobbies: Pleasing my man;
(Reality Check: Has never been with a man) Motto: I've never met a man I
didn't like.

Tom found the profile to be pretty standard, but he was more intrigued by
the screen name.  He entered the chat room, clicked on Hungwell, screwed up
his courage and sent him an IM.



Part Two

Wellhung: Hi Hungwell.  How goes it?  Hungwell: Hi Wellhung.  How goes it
with you? Interesting screen name!

Tom's heart began to beat overtime.  He never expected a reply and he was
extremely nervous.  He had no idea what to say.  Before he could answer, he
got another IM from Hungwell.

Hungwell: I just read your profile.  You sound like you're me.  Wellhung: I
know.  Ain't it a hoot?  Hungwell: Are you really mid twenties?  Wellhung:
28 Hungwell: 27 here, really 6'1", 200 lbs. Sorry Wellhung: No problem. I`m
6'2" and 210.  I guess we both need a gym.  Hungwell: You sound like a nice
guy.  Wellhung: I am.  You sound nice too.  Hungwell: Everybody says so.
Wellhung: What's your favorite thing to do?  Hungwell: Play sports.
Wellhung: I mean sexually.  Hungwell: Sorry.  I'm new at this.  Wellhung:
Me too.  Hungwell: Are you as scared as I am?  Wellhung: Yes, I'm scared
too.  Hungwell: I'd like to try some man sex sometime, but to be honest,
I'm married and I'm not sure about this.

Wellhung: Bingo. I'm married too.  Scared shitless, but horny, curious and
if I can get some courage, I'd like to try it with a dude sometime also.
Need someone who has to be as discreet as I have to be.

Hungwell: Right.  Wellhung: This IMing shit is hard to do.  Can I E-mail
you sometime?  Then I can think about what I want to say, and we can get
better acquainted.

Hungwell: Great idea.  Let's get to know each other by being pen pals
first.  Maybe there's a future here.  I've been pining for a long time.

Wellhung: Me too.  I'm signing off now and going to my E-Mail. Ciao.
Hungwell: Ciao.




To:  HYPERLINK "mailto:Hungwell@aol.com" 
Hungwell@aol.com From: 
HYPERLINK "mailto:Wellhung@aol.com" 
Wellhung@aol.com Subject: Getting
to Know You Time: 11:02 PM Tuesday Jul. 14

Hi Hungwell.  It was nice chatting with you this evening.  Here goes.  I'm
going to let it all hang out (no sexual innuendo intended). I'm happily
married with kids, but I have been wondering what it would be like to have
sex with a man for as long as I can remember.  When I jerk off, I fantasize
I'm playing 69 with some one who looks like Rock Hudson or Brad Pitt.
Sometimes I get really bad and imagine that Rock or Brad is fucking me or
I'm fucking one of them.  I'm curious about how all that would feel, but
right now I'm curious to know if you have similar feelings.  I must tell
you that I am surprised that I feel comfortable sharing this with you.
Maybe it's because we are in the same boat, but probably it's because
you're anonymous.  Wellhung.

Tom re-read the note, and did not hesitate to click on send.  He decided to
wait ten minutes to see if Hungwell would answer him.  While waiting, he
returned to the chat room and was pleased to note that Hungwell was not in
the room.  He hoped he was still on line and was writing to him.  He added
Hungwell to his buddy list and it indicated that he was indeed on line.

After a little while he heard the little bell indicating he had an E-Mail
coming in.

To:  HYPERLINK "mailto:Wellhung@aol.com" 
Wellhung@aol.com From: 
HYPERLINK "mailto:Hungwell@aol.com" 
Hungwell@aol.com Subject: Getting
to Know You Time: 11:18 PM Tuesday Jul.14

Hi Buddy: There's nothing you can tell me and no emotion you can feel that
I haven't known and felt.  You already know that I am married; we both are.
But the desire to be with a man is consuming me.  My wife never gives me
head.  She thinks it's dirty.  Talking of dirty, I long to stick my cock up
some hairy, dirty ass hole and then have the guy fuck me right back.  I
keep imagining that the feeling of being filled up in your gut must be so
sexually electrifying.  Who better than another man can know and feel what
you are longing for?  A woman sleeps with you because it's her marital
duty.  I sometimes wonder if there are any women who really enjoy sex with
a man.  Not from the way my buddies talk at work.  I'll bet most women
would rather be with another woman for the same reason I'd rather be with a
man.  I hope you won't think I'm being too forward talking like this, but
like you said, I feel comfortable sharing this with you.  Also, it is
really a wonder that I have found someone who understands and isn't judging
me.  My best, Hungwell

Tom did not hesitate to answer back.

To:  HYPERLINK "mailto:Hungwell@aol.com" 
Hungwell@aol.com From: 
HYPERLINK "mailto:Wellhung@aol.com" 
Wellhung@aol.com Subject: Getting
to Know You Time: 11:48 PM, Tuesday, Jul. 14

Dear friend: Funny you should say that about judging someone.  A wise man
once told me that we can have thousands of friends, but we cannot consider
ourselves to be lucky unless we can find one special person to whom we can
reveal our innermost secrets, without fear of being judged, and with the
certainty that we will still be friends after we have poured out our
hearts.  He told me to find that someone and I would find a true friend.
The rest are mere acquaintances.  I know this is crazy.  We just met, but
already I have told you, and you have told me, that one tremendous secret
that haunts both of us.  Are we still friends?  I think so.  Are you
judging me?  I think not. Have I found that one special friend?  I hope so.
Why I have tried a hundred times to confide in my best friend, but I
couldn't even tell him what I have just revealed to you. I think it would
end our friendship.  So I guess that demotes him to a mere acquaintance. I
would like to continue our conversation, but I hear my wife stirring.  She
may be looking for me.  I promise to write again as soon as possible.  From
my heart.  Wellhung.


The next day, Tom told Luke to drive the patrol car.  Luke could tell that
his friend was pre-occupied and was glad to help him out.  Tom just
couldn't get Hungwell out of his mind.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Luke wanted to know.

Tom thought, `That's what Hungwell called me, buddy.'  "Nothing's wrong,"
Tom answered. I've just got a lot on my mind.  I'll be fine.  Hell, I am
fine."  Suddenly Tom was his old self again.  Tonight he would write to
Hungwell, but he couldn't make time go faster so he might as well land back
on earth.  After all, his job required his total focus and concentration.

Tom couldn't wait for Maureen's bedtime, so after dinner, he told her that
he had some important paper work to do.  He went into the den and locked
the door.  It was still summer and light outside.  Luke happened to call to
see if he wanted to pitch a few balls, but he declined.  Now Luke was sure
that his buddy had some problem.  He determined to find out what was
bothering him.

Tom logged on with his dial up connection and vowed to switch to DSL.
Finally (it seemed forever) he reached his E-Mail.  There was a letter from
Hungwell which was written after Tom had signed off the night before.

Hello dear friend, I agree with your definition of true friendship.  Since
you are the only person in the world who knows my secret and you haven't
labeled me faggot or given up on our budding friendship, I guess we are
real friends.  I feel good about that.  You got me thinking about someone
who I have always felt was my best friend in the world.  I started to ask
myself what would happen if I told him my secret, and I shuddered at the
thought.  There is no doubt in my mind that the friendship would end.  That
would be devastating to me, so I will keep my secret from him.  Ciao, good
buddy, Hungwell.

Tom hit the reply button.

I could hardly work today, thinking about you.  Believe it or not, I didn't
think about having sex with you, although that would be nice.  I thought of
you as being my friend.  I couldn't wait to get to the computer and write
to you, my friend.  I wanted so desperately to talk to you and share more
of myself with you.  Can I call you sometime?  Do you see us meeting in the
near future? Love, Wellhung.

Hungwell answered about an hour later and Tom was visibly upset.

You are moving way too fast for me.  I already cherish our friendship, but
I am still not sure if I could have sex with a man.  If we were to meet,
even for a cup of coffee, I am afraid it might go further.  I don't want to
do something I will regret later on.  Hungwell

Tom answered:

Dear friend: You are so right, and I do apologize.  I don't want to lose
your friendship.  No more pressure, I promise you.  Let's just correspond.
If you reach a point where you think you would like to meet me, I'll be
ready.  Your friend, Wellhung.

Tom wrote to Hungwell several more times but received no answer.  He was
really distraught.  He went to the chat room every night, but Hungwell was
not there.  He chided himself for having rushed things.  He was so
distracted at work that Luke threatened to request a different partner.
His appetite was so shot that he lost a ton of weight.  All his uniforms
needed altering.

Luke kept begging his friend to tell him what was wrong, but Tom said he
couldn't tell him, that he wouldn't understand.  Luke grew angry.  "If we
are real friends," he said, "you can tell me anything."

Tom's heart skipped a beat when he heard that.  Could he really tell Luke
the truth?  Would he be judgmental?  Would they still be friends?  He knew
he could not say anything, and turned away from Luke's friendship.

When it seemed he could not sink lower, and Luke was ready to make good on
his promise to get a new partner, Tom received an E-Mail from Hungwell.

Dear Wellhung.  I am sorry I haven't written.  To tell the truth, I was
trying to get you out of my system.  As you can see I have had no
success. I have missed your notes (and your friendship) more than I can put
into words.  As for the sex part, I have been whacking off constantly and
fantasizing that you and I are doing some pretty nasty (and wonderful)
things together.  I guess what I am saying is, yes I am ready to meet you
if you still want to meet me.  Maybe we'll love each other and jump right
into bed.  Maybe we'll hate each other and that will be the end of it.
Even if it's the end, I am ready to confide in you that I won't stop
looking for a man to have sex with.  It's all I think about.  I believe I
am possessed and the devil won't leave me until I do it.  I'll leave it to
you to set the time and place to meet.  Love, Hungwell.

Tom was shocked at his reaction to the E-Mail.  He started to cry.  He
hadn't cried since he was a kid.  He might have been crying but he felt
like a million bucks.  There was still enough light out to play some ball.
He called Luke and told him to step outside with his mitt.  He was
challenging him to catch his fast balls.

Luke was delighted and ran outside so fast, he got out before Tom.  They
could only play for about twenty minutes when it got too dark to see.  When
the game was over, Luke crossed the street and did something he had never
done to Tom before.  He embraced him in a bear hug and whispered in his
ear, "Welcome home, buddy."

That night after Maureen fell asleep, Tom ran to the computer.  His buddy
list indicated that Hungwell was on line.  Instead of going to E-Mail Tom
sent him an IM.

Wellhung: Hello dear friend.  Hungwell: Hello to you, buddy.  Wellhung:
I've picked a place to meet.  It's very public so one of us or both of us
can bolt out, if it should go that way.

Hungwell: I have a feeling it will go well.  Where shall we meet?
Wellhung: Can you make it Saturday morning at 11AM.  I'll create a chore I
have to handle.

Hungwell: I can do that.  Where?  Wellhung: How about City Place in front
of Starbucks.  I'll meet you out front.

Hungwell: How will I know you?  Wellhung: I'll carry a black attaché case.
It's Saturday.  I don't think there will be many guys toting a business bag
wearing shorts.  I'm 6'2" and blond.  That should help.  How shall I know
you?

Hungwell: Don't worry.  I'll look for a tall blond wearing shorts and
toting an attaché case.  I can't wait.  See you there.  Ciao.

Tom had three whole days to wait, and time never went slower.  Luke was
amazed at the change in him, but was willing to accept this good turn of
events without questioning it.

On Saturday morning Tom told Maureen he was way behind in his paper work
and had to go down to the station to catch up. He left the house carrying
an attaché case.  He got to City Place and was parked in the parking ramp
an hour before meeting time.  At first he wanted to go wait in front of
Starbucks but he was afraid that if Hungwell saw him and didn't like what
he saw, he might run.  He decided to get to Starbucks promptly at 11AM.
Coincidentally, Hungwell reasoned the same way.  Both of them were sitting
in their cars waiting for time to pass.  They were at opposite ends of the
parking ramp.

At 10:55AM each of them got out of their cars and started toward Starbucks.
Tom's heart beat was at a dangerous pitch. They didn't know it, but they
were walking toward each other.  Suddenly Hungwell saw a black attaché case
being carried by a tall blond man wearing shorts and walking toward him.
He stopped dead in his tracks and would have run, but Tom had already seen
him and he too stopped cold.  There was no way they could run from each
other so they continued to approach one another.  Tom looked into
Hungwell's dark eyes and asked, "Hungwell?"

"Yes, and you must be Wellhung."

Tom placed the attaché case on the ground and embraced Hungwell.  "Oh my
God," he said.  "Luke, it's you.  Oh Luke, no wonder I fell in love so
fast."

"We should be ashamed," Luke said.

"Sorry, man, but I refuse to be ashamed of loving you," Tom reacted.

"Not that," Luke corrected him.  "I was thinking about what you said was
the true mark of friendship.  We didn't trust each other enough to tell the
truth.  That will never happen again."

"Amen," Tom agreed.

"Where can we go to be alone?" Luke asked.

"Can you wait until tomorrow?  Maureen is going to Tampa for two weeks with
the kids.  Naturally, I'll have dinner at your house.  We'll toss the ball
around a little, and then we'll tell Emily you are going over to my place
to shoot some pool.  What happens then is that a whole lot of fantasies are
going to come true."

They went into Starbucks, ordered coffee and found a quiet table.  For
almost two hours they did what they both had wanted to do for years but
feared the results.  They poured their hearts out, telling each other how
much love they felt toward one another, and how their secret yearnings
tortured them.

The next day went as planned.  Maureen loaded up her mini van, strapped in
the boys, kissed Tom goodbye, a chaste peck on the lips, and left.  During
the day Tom and Luke did yard maintenance chores, but the afternoon
tropical sun cut it short.  They each showered and put on sweet smelling
fresh clothes; shorts and tank tops.

Tom hung out at Luke's the rest of the afternoon, watching some old movies
on TV.  He whispered to Tom that he had some male porn videos to watch
later.  He had confiscated them in a vice sting.  He figured that they both
needed some instructions.  When it came close to dinner, they helped Emily
set the table.

After dinner, they played catch for a while, a very short while, and told
Emily that they would be at Tom's playing pool.  They rushed into the house
and headed for Tom's bedroom.  They shed their skimpy clothing as quickly
as possible and jumped into bed.  They faced each other and wrapped their
arms around one another.  Their erections were pressed hard against one
another.

"How great is this?" Tom asked.  "Shall I put on one of the tapes?"

`Nah," Luke answered, "I think we are men enough to know what to do.  Just
tell me you have lube in the house.  You promised to make my fantasies come
true."

They started by playing sixty-nine.  At some critical point, Luke
interrupted and told Tom that as much as he wanted Tom to come inside his
ass, this was too good to stop doing.  He wanted to continue sucking until
they both came.  "After all," he said, "we have a life time to experiment
with everything else our bodies have to offer one another."  With that he
resumed sucking Tom and Tom resumed sucking Luke.  They came almost
simultaneously, and surprised each other by swallowing whatever was offered
to them.  Later they both agreed that it tasted like honey.  Luke said that
it only tasted like honey because it came from his honey.  They lay wrapped
up in one another's arms for some time.  They kissed passionately and
stroked their cocks.  But eventually Luke said that he had to get home
before Emily began to wonder what was going on.  Before he left, they both
assured each other that sex with a man had more than lived up to each of
their expectations.

In the next two weeks the guys played a lot of pool together.  They tried
every form of male sex they could, and loved everything and every minute of
it.  They had some difficulty adapting to anal sex at first, but after it
was mastered, they both agreed it was the best form of man sex.

When Maureen returned, Luke began to urge Emily to take their daughter and
go north to New York to escape the oppressive summer heat in Florida and
possibly a hurricane or two.  Luckily for Tom and Luke, she thought it was
a wonderful idea.


Epilogue

Author's Note:

As I told you at the beginning, I really don't know what has become of
these two happy lovers.  I can tell you that my friend Sam told me that
they came to several all gay parties that he made at his house.  They came
as a couple.

I would like to know if they were able to handle a double life, but I'll
never find out.  I seem to feel that they could handle it well.  Neither of
their wives seemed to demand much sex, and I'm sure they could handle what
little was expected of them.

By this time their kids are teen agers and I wonder what sexual paths they
have taken.  These things seem to run in families.

I just want to remind you that this story is based on fact.  The two lovers
did meet on the internet and it did turn out that they lived across the
street from each other.  The rest of the story was dreamed up by me.  I
have no idea what each did for a living.  I doubt that they were cops or
even worked together.  It just makes the story more interesting.  HWB