Date: Fri, 16 Aug 2002 13:01:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bart Hanks <bart384@yahoo.com>
Subject: Getting Got (Part 3)

             Part 3

We stood there in Larry's living room and I couldn't
believe all that had happened tonight.  First Kevin
catching me jerking off, then Butch and Norton showing
up to film me and Kevin doing stuff with him blowing
me and me giving him a hand job, and then Larry coming
along and acting like he was going to arrest us, and
finally me and Kevin here at
Larry's where he had just smeared this stuff on my
dick and made me shoot off.

"Remember," Larry said, "if you try working your dick
in any way, it will start itching like hell again, and
I don't think you want to go through that any more."
Turning to Kevin, he added, "I want him primed for the
big show."

At that moment his cell phone rang.  He turned away
from us and went back into the bedroom.  It was
obviously a police call because the moment he
answered, his voice sounded different: businesslike
and respectful and almost military.  He kept his voice
hushed after that, and when he came back into the room
a few minutes later he tossed Kevin the keys and told
him to take my handcuffs off.

"I have to go out," he explained.  "There's been a
minor wreck and since one of the vehicles is a van
from Channel 5, they want to make sure we look good
and active.  I can drop you two back at the school.
This is probably only a fender bender, but you know
how the news likes to make cops look bad."

Larry seemed proud of his job.  Me, I was busy pulling
my pants up and trying to keep my dick away from any
friction with my clothes.  Kevin watched me with great
amusement, but I didn't know what he had to be so
happy about.  The time would come, I was sure, when he
and I would have it out, in more ways than one.

"Come on, you guys.  The big show will have to wait"
Larry said as we dashed down the outside stairs.

"Where is the accident?" Kevin asked as we rode
hurriedly through the night towards the school.

"Out on Glishom Road near the Interstate."

"Butch lives out that way.   Did they say who was in
the other car?"

"No, just that the media were there and I needed to
get out there quick."

We jumped out hurriedly at the school and Larry took
off.  Typical Larry, he sounded his siren and flashed
his lights once we were conveniently out of the car.
He was the policeman on his way to investigate an
accident.  Big deal.

Once inside my car, Kevin said, "Let's go out there
and see what happened.  I know that area real good and
we could watch the investigation."

I was fumbling in my pocket for the keys, and trying
the best I could to keep from having my shorts rub
against my dick.  It was like almost anything would
get it aroused and I didn't want that itching to start
up again.   I was sort of halfway wondering if I
soaked in the tub when I got home, would that help get
rid of the red spots and also take this
horny feeling away?"

"Can't you find the keys, or are you just having fun
in your pocket?" Kevin asked.

"Kevin, man, I am going to grab you by the balls the
first chance I get.  Of course I'm trying to get the
keys out.  If you had this stuff on your dick you'd
know what I'm going through."

"I don't know why you'd be feeling horny. You've
already shot off twice this evening. And who knows how
many times earlier today?"

I had my keys, and I lunged for him, grabbing him
between the legs while he tried to wiggle away.  He
pushed me with his hand, but I had that bone of his in
my fingers and I held on tight.  Although he was
twisting and trying to get away, that thing of his was
practically pulsing with energy.

"Your dick sure likes this," I told him.

"Leggo, man!"

I finally did, and he relaxed.  Starting the engine, I
pulled out of the parking lot and headed west under
the dark August night.

We saw the lights before we reached the scene.  A farm
truck had apparently pulled out into the road at the
same moment the TV van had rounded the bend.  The farm
truck, we discovered as we pulled up to the scene and
got out, had tilted enough to spill produce
all over the place.  We could see Larry setting up
flares and trying to take down information.  Another
police car came up while he was interviewing the
driver of the truck.

There seemed to be just three TV people: the
cameraman, the night reporter who usually covered
local events, and the technician.  I couldn't tell who
had been driving.  Then as I looked around I saw Butch
and Norton.  I was glad to see Norton still had his
camera, since the video in it was what I wanted to get
back.

I wondered if Norton had intended to take some shots
of the scene and maybe sell it to the station.
Obviously their own cameraman was not available to be
filming since Larry was getting information from him.
 I hoped Norton had sense enough to not use the same
tape for these shots as the one with me on it earlier.

"Hey Kevin, there's your brother over there.  Go see
what you can find out about the tape

of us.  We need to get that thing back."

"Right."  He started off.  I was surprised he didn't
give me any smart comments, but I knew he had as much
to worry about with the tape as I did.  And who knows,
after all this is over, maybe Kevin and I might find
we have a lot in common.

The thought of Kevin made my dick twitch, and an old
ache deep inside me let out an echo of unfulfilled
things in the past.  But I didn't have long to think
about that stuff, because someone I had known from
school was coming over.

Woodrow Bonner, from the time he hit puberty, was
always known as Woody Boner.  And if anyone ever
deserved the name, he did.  I don't think that bone of
his ever went down. One summer at scout camp, it was
said he beat off so much his spine stuck out.  Back at
school in the fall when the story got around, guys
used to make him pull up his shirt in back so they
could see for themselves.

There was nothing unusual about his dick; in fact it
was pretty average, just a long pole with a knobby
head on the end.  Except for the head, it was the same
long slender size from one end to the other.  What
made Woody's 'woody' so famous was that it never
seemed to go soft, never seemed to relax, just always
seemed to be there hard as hell and pushing against
his pants.

Nothing could keep the damned thing down.  He tried
jockey shorts, but since he couldn't bend it, he had
to point it up and the thing was like a pipe going up
toward his belt.  Obviously boxer shorts were a waste
of time, but I have to admit he even tried those at
first, until the length became unmanageable and in
walking shorts with boxers his dick march straight out
in front of him.  A jock strap was useless.

But none of this ever seemed to bother Woody.  And
when a new teacher would call the roll and get to his
name and ask if it's 'Bonner,' guys would shout out,
"No sir, it's pronounced 'Boner'" and then add as an
afterthought, "from the French."

"Woody," I greeted him, "what are you doing over this
way?"

"I'm a trainee with the station.  I'm learning how to
be a technician's assistant."

I noticed he was wearing baggy clothing, and decided
maybe that was necessary to keep his secret from
standing out in his new job.

"Sounds great.  So will it be permanent when you
finish training?"

"I'll have to get at least two years at a technical
school, but I can go over to Clarksdale at night and
take the courses I'd need."

I was glad for Woody.  It sounded like a job he was
made for.  But I changed the subject to ask, "Any
problems with the accident?  Anybody hurt?'

"No," he replied his hand unconsciously slipping down
the front of his pants.  I knew he was making sure his
bone wasn't showing.  "But you know who's
investigating the accident?  Larry Biggs.  You
remember him from school, the guy who was jerking off
in the boy's bathroom?"

With Woody's reputation, I was surprised he would be
laughing about Larry.  But you never know.

"Yeah, I remember."

"You should have seen it, man.  His eyes were bugging
out and that damn dick was sending out spurts of cum,
and with everybody gathering around him, he couldn't
turn the thing off.  He just stood there gasping and
shuddering and that dick was bobbing up and down with
every spurt.  And when it was over, everybody
applauded."

"You say I should have seen it?  Woody, I was there.
In fact I was the one who walked in on him by accident
and hollered at you guys to come in and see."

Woody appeared crestfallen.  "Oh.  I forgot."  His
hand went down the front of his pants, and stayed
there.  I could see he was rubbing it against where
his bone would be.

"You were too interested in his dick to notice who
else was there."

Lost in thought, Woody nodded, and then suddenly
realized what he had admitted.  Snatching his hand
away from his pants, he said "No.  Wait.  That wasn't
what I meant."

I decided I needed to know Woody better.  I didn't
have time for much now, but since I was bigger than he
was and since it was dark where we were standing, I
stepped behind him and circled my arms around him.
Pinning his arms to his sides, I reached down in front
and found that mighty bone.  Woody jumped like he had
been shot.

"Hey!  Hey!  What - Stop that!"  He was pushing
against me but couldn't break free.

"You still have your famous bone, Woody.  And it feels
like it wants some action."  I was rubbing my hand
against his pants, and his bone was really responding.
 It was as hard as I remembered it from two years ago
when a bunch of us got him behind the gym and stripped
him and held him down and we each took turns feeling
that mighty dick.  We had done it on a dare, because
no one could believe that a real dick could stay up
that much; we thought he was faking it with something
artificial.  And then with him buck naked and that
dick right there, we could hardly quit working on it.
I remembered how well it responded, and how when I
went from wrapping my hand around it to working it
with my finger tips, how it
quivered and arched and seemed like a rocket trying to
take off.

Returning to reality, I asked, "How long do you think
I can keep this up before you shoot?"

"Hey Jason, don't man.  That's mean.  If I shot, I'd
be all sticky inside and the front of my pants might
show the stain, and when it started to get cold I'd be
miserable."

"Sounds like it's happened to you before." I was still
massaging, and his voice was getting husky.

"Later, man, later" Woody said.  That sounded good
enough for me, and I released my hold.

"I'll take you up on that," I said, thinking that it
would be great to get Woody pinned down sometime and
work that bone until it was drained dry, milk it until
nothing was left, and see if it would go soft finally
when I got through.  That idea had great appeal to me,
and I thought I could get Kevin to help me.  At that
moment, Kevin came up.  Woody walked back to the van.

"Isn't that Woody?" he asked.

"How did you know him?  He was ahead of you in
school."

"Right.  But I've seen his picture in old yearbooks,
and I know his reputation."

"His reputation?" I asked innocently.

"Yeah.  You know, why he's called Woody."

Yes, I thought, and you looked his picture up because
that reputation of his turned you on.  But aloud I
said, "What did you find out?"

"Norton took the tape we want out of the camera and
he's been using fresh tape to film things around the
accident.  Our tape is still in his car."

"And where's Butch?"

"He's still near the car.  I couldn't get close to
it."  Kevin shifted slightly, leaning closer, and I
could feel the warmth of his body.  "You got any
ideas?"

"I got a bunch of them, Kevin, but for now let's see
if I can create a diversion and get Butch away from
the car and you grab the tape and head back to my car.
 Here are the keys.  Once you're in the car, start the
engine and when I come running, get ready to haul
ass."

Kevin nodded and took off.  I headed over to where
Butch was standing.  I figured the best ploy was to
try something that would get his attention.

"Hey Butch, Larry's looking for you."

He looked up startled.  "Huh?  What's he want me for?"

"The tape you promised him."

"Well, I couldn't make a duplicated yet.  I haven't
even been back to my place.  Norton and I have other
things on our minds right now."

"Well, Larry said for me to bring you over."  I
reached over and took him by the shoulder.

He turned around and glared at me.  "Keep your hands
off me, Jason.  I'll go to Larry when I'm good and
ready."

I gave him a push, he pushed back, and suddenly we
were tumbling on the ground.  I grabbed him and rolled
over, sending us far enough from the car that Kevin
could get to it and get the tape.  I heard the car
door slam as we struggled.

This was such a good position on top of Butch, that I
reached behind me and started getting his pants opened
and worked down.  That made him mad and he struggled
even harder, cussing and all.  Finally I had pushed
his pants and shorts down to his knees,
and as he wriggled I knew his butt was getting rubbed
in the stubble and dirt.

I grabbed his dick and started working it.  "This is
payback for what you did to me at the fence," I told
him.  "And you better quit your hollering because
you'll draw a crowd."  Actually Norton had started
looking over our way, but he couldn't see much because
he was where the lights were and we were in the dark.

His dick was fully hard even though he was so mad he
looked like he would explode.  It was a great feeling
working his dick.  I had thought about that for the
three years since he had held me at the fence with my
dick poking out, thought about revenge, thought about
getting his dick.  And I realized I had forgotten all
about Kevin.

I suddenly let go, jumped up, and started running for
my car.  Butch looked after me, and started to get up,
then realized he needed to pull his pants back up
first.  By that time I was at the car, and jumped in
the passenger side as Kevin pulled out onto the road.

"You got the video?"  I asked him.

"Sure did" he grinned.  "Where do you want to go?"

I still lived at home, but my room was upstairs at the
back, and we could go there without my folks knowing
anything.  I figured maybe it would give me a chance
to really get Kevin. "Turn right when we get to the
park, and I'll direct you form there.  Are we being
followed?"

Kevin looked in the rear view mirror.  "I'm afraid so"
he said.

                        (end of part 3)

Comments and suggestions are always appreciated.
Thanks to those who have written.
Bart384@Yahoo.com