Date: Wed, 24 Nov 2004 22:23:17 -0800 (PST)
From: Master Terra D <masterterradil@yahoo.com>
Subject: Officer Bradley

Officer Reginald Bradley was my wet dream.
	Officer Bradley, Reg to his friends, was a big,
burly, hairy, maybe Italian, maybe Greek, but all man,
wasn't handsome or cute. He was rugged, with a knife
scare that decorated his left cheek like some men wear
tattoos.
	Officer Bradley and I met under bothersome
circumstances.
	I'm not a gay man's stereotypical dream. I'm the
shade of white that is untanned, shorter than men like
at 5'9", with a slight carbo gut, and a face that's
somewhere between cute and handsome. I'm 37, and don't
care.
 	Don't get me wrong. On the rare occasions I go to
bars, I get hit on, but usually by drunk tops that
think I'm a pussyboy bottom. If anything, I'm the
opposite.
	I'm a leather top, into bondage and other leather
kink pleasures, and my specialty is getting men twice
my size to bend over for my pleasure.
	But that's not exactly where I met Officer Bradley.
	On my last trip to the bar, drug there by a friend, I
didn't keep track of my friend's drinking and before I
knew it, I was dragging him through the parking lot
when he started heaving.
	Ten feet away was Officer Bradley, in motorcycle
leather, writing a ticket on a truck with outdated
plates.
	I popped wood by the time he uttered the first word
as he approached. The parking lot light cast a glint
off the silver wedding band on Officer Bradley's hand.
I knew from other experiences that police departments
usually frowned on married officers wearing their
rings; it gives a perpetrator a glimpse into the
officer's personal life.
	Officer Bradley stood 6'5", huge chest tapering down
to a 34" waist with tufts of hair jutting from his
T-shirt under his uniform shirt. I guessed in his 40s,
again, just my type.
	Now, I could imagine his bent over my bed, his
leather-clad hands spreading his hairy ass cheeks for
me to use his married hole. I have a very vivid
imagination.
	My friend, Tom, got a disorderly conduct ticket and I
got enough information to run a small background check
on the officer.
	Name, address, phone number, wife's name, when he
started work, his back ground, just all those little
things that 5 minutes with an Internet search engine
and a phone book will give you.
	I'm a writer by trade. I write all sorts of crap from
porn to features on 86-year-old grandmas that knit
sweaters for recently disabled veterans. Nothing in
the officer's check gave me any hope he'd be into
dick., or into a dick up his ass.
	I didn't really give him any more thought until a
week later when I was home on a Saturday night,
rubbing down the leather sling in my basement. I
usually try to find a boy to do it, but the "boys" had
dried up lately. That's one reason I'd consented to go
to the bar the week before.
	"Is this Duane Rivers?" a familiar deep voice
resonated through the phone. I couldn't place the
voice at first.
	"Yes. And this is?" although it was more of a
statement than question.
	"This is Officer Reginald Bradley. We met a week ago,
outside the bar? I think you were trying to help a
friend."
	Damn, my dick straightened again.
	"Yes, Officer Bradley, what can I do for you?" I
asked, trying not to sound harassed and annoyed.
	"I'm off duty, sir. I mean, Mr. Rivers. You can call
me Reg," he said.
	My eyes rolled. What the hell did this guy want?
	"Okay, Reg. That's fine. So, why are you calling?"
	"Could I come over?"
	Now I was annoyed. I was also missing what was
actually going on because I was so annoyed.
	"Reg, I don't mean to be rude, but why do you want to
come over? Why are you calling?"
	There was a LONG pause. VERY long.
	The light bulb went on over my head before he started
his stammering explanation.
	"Well, I was where you were the other night, and I
did a little discreet inquiry," he said, not really
forming sentences. "My wife's at her mother's for the
weekend. I thought maybe...I was interested in....Sorry,
I'm not making any sense."
	"Reg, I think I know what you're saying," I replied.
"You're curious about men."
	Yeah, I'm that blunt and forward.
	Another long pause.
	"Reg, don't be shy. I don't do shy. Obviously, you're
curious and so you're asking. I take it you already
know where I live," I stated.
	"Yes, sir," he answered, his job training kicking in.
	"Come on over, Reg," I said, and hung up.
	I've had these calls before. They so seldom show that
I don't even think about watching for a car to pull up
or a knock on the door.
	So, 5 minutes later when the bell rang, I kind of
jumped.
	Who's bothering me at this time of night, I thought,
opening the door. Usually, it's a friend trying to bum
money off me, or a guy who thought we were meeting
tonight (read, he wants pity sex ^Ö another thing I
don't do).
	There stood my wet dream, in a combination of
motorcycle leathers and jeans/T-shirt.
	"Hi...sir," he said.
	"Come in, Reg," I said, taking a tone half way
between casual and master-in-the bedroom.

	Officer Bradley stepped inside and I closed and
locked the door behind him; he heard that.
	"I...see..."
	I cut him off.
	"Your curious about men having sex with each other,"
I said, touching his left arm with my right hand. This
guy could easily pummel me if things went wrong. I
knew why he'd picked me; I looked like he could take
me. But while he could physically, he couldn't
mentally.
	I pulled his huge left hand to the inside of my right
thigh, where the tip of my cock could be felt through
my jeans. "You're curious what it's like to feel a
dick down yer throat, a hand on yer bare ass, a man's
lips crushing yers. And I'm guessin' the only reason
why you're really curious is because your wife won't
go down on you."
	Married men interested in man sex are one of 2
things: horny and willin' to stick their dicks in
anything, or bottoms who married because it was the
right thing to do.
	My philosophy is they have holes to screw at home so
they don't need mine; therefore, I fuck married men. I
love sucking married dick though.
	Just like the way for a woman to get a man's heart is
through his stomach, the way to get a married man's
ass is through his unsucked dick.
	I placed my left hand on his right thigh and he
shuddered. I could see his dick growing through the
leather chaps and jeans. Big dick. Yep, he's a bottom.
	"Mr. Rivers...."
	"Call me `sir', Reg," I commanded, stroking his inner
thighs while his hand crawled up toward my crotch.
"This is what you came to find out about, Reg.
	"This is why you ran a background check on me and
asked around about me."
	I made a mental note that this was the first guy to
ask around about me without anyone telling me;
usually, I know what they're doing before we ever
meet.
	I shoved my hands up under his T-shirt and had it off
him before he knew what was happening, and locked my
lips on his right nipple while my left hand crept down
around his cock.
	Never jack a married man in heat like this. They'll
blow their load, and then most of the time, they're
done. Usually I go over the ground rules with new
meat: I'm in charge. We both get off, or neither gets
off. And if you have a virgin ass, I get to break it
in, either now or later, but it's my cherry to pop.
	My right hand unzipped Reg's jeans and they were down
around his ankles while my left hand fondles his nuts
and stroked that area between his asshole and nuts. He
reflexively stepped out of his jeans and was bareass
naked in my living room while I still had all my
clothes on.
	My right hand placed his left hand on my dick, still
inside my jeans. He rubbed it through the demin while
I stood up as he sat down, heading that direction with
a little help from my left hand.
	I looked down and saw his hairy horse cock. I
estimated 10 inches of cut pecker, standing straight
up.
	Officer Bradley had my dick fished out through my fly
with no encouragement and was sitting there, boned,
stroking my 6.5 cut thick dick that was a little below
his face.
	I placed my right hand under his chin and lifted it,
making eye contact.
	"Reg, do you want to suck my dick?"
	"Yes, sir, I want to suck your cock."
	"You ever suck dick before?" I prodded. Married men
that are new to dick tend to be embarrassed talking
about sex, and Reg was no different.
	He blushed. "No, sir, but I want to suck yours."
	"Go ahead, married boy," I said.
	He briefly paused at the comment, then took my precum
drooling pecker into his moist, hot mouth.
	Natural born cocksucker. Wow, he was good. Nothing
looks hotter than a big, burly man sitting naked on
yer leather couch, sucking yer cock, except maybe that
same man, legs up in yer sling, taking dick for the
first time.
	Reg actually hummed around my pecker as he sucked. He
deep throated with ease and worked the tip on his
tongue into my jizz slit, finding every nerve ending
my his wedded tongue.
	He used his right hand to assist him and I felt his
wedding band on my ass as his left hand rested there,
giving him a little control of the action.
 	Reg was enjoying my dick too much. I recognized the
sign. Married man realizes he's broken the vows and
wants to just suck the cock and leave.
	I stroked behind Reg's ear lobes, usually a sensitive
spot of many men. No response from Reg, so I stroked
the back of his neck. A moan escaped around my cock.
	Bingo.
	I pulled my spit-soaked pisser from Reg's mouth,
looking down at him as he looked up like a puppy dog
wanting its bone back. I held a hand to his forehead
to keep him off my cock.
	"You're quite the cocksucker, Reg. You do a damn fine
polishing my knob, officer," I quipped.
	"Please don't call me that," he said, truly
embarrassed for the first time.
	I reached down and tweaked a nipple. "Officer, stand
up."
	He did, while I kneeled down.
	His 10-inch tube was going to gag me. I love suckin'
cock, but I'm no size queen. I like them swallowable
and tasty. Cocks the size Reg had were better for
handholds while fucking.
	I fondled that spot between his shithole and nuts
while I stroked that dick with the other hand. There
is a technique that you can stroke a man so he remains
hard, but can't come.
	I use that on a lot of first-timers. They're used to
15-minute sex, if that. To me, that's not sex; that's
a fart.
	I kneeled in front of Reg and subtly got him to
spread his legs wide while I licked his cock. I licked
up the shaft and around the tip without taking it in
my mouth. I teased Reg's dick while using spit to
massage around the rim of his ass with a finger,
giving him the pleasure of touch before the pleasures
of a finger fuck.
	"Sir, I'm going to cum," Reg whimpered.
 	I squeezed his nuts from his body and pulled my face
away.
	"You cum and you go home now. And you don't want
that, Officer Bradley, do you?"
	He looked me in the eyes. "No, sir."
	I popped a finger up his shitter, and targeted his
prostate.
	A deep, guttural moan escaped from Officer Bradley
and his knees wobbled.
	"You like that finger up yer ass, Officer Bradley?"
	"Yes, sir. I do."
	I wiggled the finger wickedly as I shoved a finger in
his mouth.
	"Ugghhhhhh."
	I wrapped my lips around his cock and maneuvered
until Reg was bent over my couch, his ass in the air,
exposed for my use.
 	I slid a second finger from my other hand in his
moist, warn hole and started alternately finger
fucking the hot officer's hairy poop chute.
	"You like that, married boy?" I smirked.
	"Yes, sir. Please keep doing that, sir," he begged.
	"Did you think you'd come over here and wind up bent
over my couch getting finger fucked, officer?"
	"No, sir."
	"Think I'd be finger fucking yer married shitter?"
	"No, sir."
	I could almost hear crying in his voice.
	"If you don't like this, I can stop."
	"Please, sir, don't stop," he whimpered, but pushed
his hairy ass further onto my fingers.
	"Okay, boy." I smiled broadly. This macho officer was
pure pussy for being manhandled.
	I stopped the 2-handed poking and switched to 2
fingers on the same hand, working him open for a third
digit.
	I reached under with my left hand and started milking
Officer Bradley like a cow while a trio of fingers
ravaged his booty.
	Officer Bradley moaned, groaned, whimpered, sighed,
and shoved his ass further back on my fingers until I
thought he might swallow the whole hand, while trying
to fuck my left hand to no avail.
	"This a virgin ass, boy?" I asked, a humiliating
prelude to popping his cherry.
	"Yes, sir," he grunted.
	I pulled my fingers out and looked at them. "Damn
virgin holes," I thought. That's the problem with
virgins; few have heard of enemas, but I knew what I
was dealing with when the beefy policeman sauntered
into my house.
	"Stand up, boy," I commanded.
	Virgins have lots of options when it comes to loosing
their cherries.
	On the bed, on a couch, a chair, the dining room
table, a vehicle, garage, alley, street, the options
are endless.
	I prefer to take married virgins in their own beds,
but I wasn't in the mood to make the trip.
	"Turn around," I instructed, and then shoved those 3
fingers under his nose. "Take a whiff."
	He took a short sniff, then a couple of deep ones.
When he took the third one, I smiled my biggest smile.
	Officer Reginald Bradley was a virgin pig boy. He
liked the smell of his own ass. My cock could not be
harder, ever.
	I rubbed those finger right below his nostrils so he
could smell his ass all night long. With my left hand,
I pinched his left tit. I shoved the right-hand
fingers down his throat where he greedily cleaned
them.
	His left nipple was raw by the time he finished the
right hand. I grabbed his dick with my right hand and
started walking him around the house, trying to figure
out where to take his ass.
	"Bark like a dog." I commanded.
	Now, men, even really wild men who are into piss play
and other such functions, usually draw a line at
making animal sounds. They'll wear a collar, but when
you bring out the leash, they balk.
	Officer Reg did, too. I squeezed his cock a bit more
as I did my version of a boy-cock walk into the
kitchen.
	"Bark, boy."
	"Sir, I can't. I'm not a dog," he pleaded. "Just fuck
my virgin ass, please, Duane."
	He crossed several lines here, but I'm still not sure
to this day he realized all the errors he'd made.
	I smacked his left ass cheek with my left hand VERY
hard as I squeezed his cock tighter.
	"That's `sir', boy. I didn't say you were a dog. I
told you to bark like one!" Another slap on his ass.
"Yer ass will get fucked when I want, where I want,
and as I want, boy!" Another spanking, but on his
right side.
	The towering officer stayed bent over as he
contemplated his predicament. Officer Bradley could
beat me to a pulp, stood 6 inches taller, was muscles
to my average body, and had the training to take me
out as if I was a common street trash pick pocket.
	"Sorry, sir," he said.
	"Bark."
	"woof." It was a sorry excuse for a bark. Even a mute
dog would be ashamed to have done it.
	"Bark!"
	"Woof."
	I squeezed his dick so hard he tried to bolt away
from me, but I let go, and hit both his knees from the
back, sending him falling.
	Officer Bradley had my dick rammed down his throat,
his arms pinned under my legs and an express on his
face of total confusion.
	I pulled my dick out after his third gag.
	I stood over him.
	"Officer Bradley," I started. He was pissed.
	"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked, half mad,
half frustrated.
	"You said you asked about me, Officer Bradley. You
knew what you were getting into when you came over. I
know it and you know it," I said, shoving a finger
roughly between his pecs. "Bark, you fuck!"
	"Woof!"
	"Like a man, not bitch!"
	"WOOF! WOOF!"
	"Good dog. Turn around."
	He did and I put the collar on him.
	He hung his head and started crying. "I'm sorry. I
can't do this." He started sobbing.
	"Too late, officer. You came, I'm conquering, and yer
dick is telling my you love it."
	I'd walked Officer Bradley through most of the house,
trying to pick the perfect place to take his
virginity.
	 I settled on my bed. Not the bed I use for playing
in the guest room (don't tell my guests!), but the bed
in my bed room.
	I bent Officer Bradley over the end of the bed and
looked down at his hairy cherry. My bed doesn't have a
footboard, and the headboard is a mirror. That was
another reason I choose my bed.
	"Officer Bradley, before we met, did you fantasize
about men and sex?"
	"Yes, sir," he responded. I heard frustration, but I
knew why. He wanted fucked, not to answer questions,
and couldn't figure out why I'd start asking questions
now.
	"What kind of men did you fantasize about fucking
you? Military men? Fellow officers? Truck drivers?
What, boy?" I asked. He was a macho officer. He
fantasized about a macho man like himself taking his
cherry, and I knew it.
	I pull his hair on his head so he could make eye
contact with me in my mirrored headboard as he
answered.
 	"Look at me, boy."
	He did. "There's a guy on the force, former Marine,
that I've seen in the showers, sir," he said.
	"A real man's man? The kind of man women cream over?"
I asked, drilling into Officer Bradley's eyes.
	"Yes, sir."
	"Ever fantasize about a  guy with a gut fucking you?
Forcing you to eat his dick? Making you bark like a
dog?"
	My eyes held his gaze, then he looked in the mirror
and saw himself, collared, bent over, ready to be
fucked.
	"No, sir."
	"Reg, you belong to me, now. You are my property.
Your wife is the only other person you may have sex
with. When we're done, you will do as I say, when I
say, and visit me once a week."
	I placed the tip of my cock at his ass pucker.
	"Do you understand, boy?" I asked, still looking in
the mirror.
	"Yes, sir," he said, hanging his head. I grabbed the
hair on his head and yanked him up.
	"Look at me, boy. Do you understand?" I said.
	He looked straight into my eyes, and a tear trickled
down his right cheek.
	"Yes, sir."
	I plunged my dick in with no more ceremony. My dick
slid into Officer Bradley's muscled, hairy hole and I
felt him push back as I plunged deeper.
	"Fuck me, sir! Harder!" he begged. I smacked his ass
as a dicked his burly butt.
	I watched his ass hairs cling to my dick as it
pistoned in and out off his hirsute hole.
	The collar around his neck gave me a hand hold, but I
prefer a man's nips and cock, and Officer Bradley's
10-inch handhold was not to be ignored.
	Half way through my fuck he came. I didn't even slow
down as he did. His legs did give out after he came
and I cockshoved his chiseled cop bod onto my bed and
kept fucking.
	After 15 minutes (yeah, his ass got 30 minutes of
fucking for his virgin ride), I pulled out and rolled
Officer Bradley over. His eyes were rolled up in his
head and I felt curled toes on my thighs.
	I let loose my load on his face, aiming sticky cum
into his mouth and hair. He lay there, enjoying the
sensation of spunk on his visage.
	I nabbed my digital camera off the side table and put
my still hard dick in Reg's mouth, and he started
suckling on it.
	I snapped some pictures of Reg with my cock in his
rugged face, cum dripping off his manly mug. He tried
to resist, but a couple of smacks to his dick stopped
him.
	The camera disappeared before Reg regained any
sensibility. I wouldn't need the pictures to keep
Officer Bradley in line; he was mine; the pictures
were more humiliation for a man that never dreamed
he'd become another man's sexual dog.
	I didn't send Officer Bradley home to his wife that
night. Instead he spooned up against me, my cock
lodged up his ass and nipple clamps on each tit. I
sent him home in the morning, property fucked and
used, humiliated and subservient to me.


I appreciate all your feedback, men. I hope you
enjoyed this as well.
Master Terra D