Date: Thu, 9 Mar 2006 11:03:53 -0800 (PST)
From: Reflex <reflex012004@yahoo.com>
Subject: Trapped Muscle-Cop Part 18 {Reflex} (M^M bd nc reluc humil)
Disclaimer: If you are under 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read
material of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story
contains descriptions of sexual activity between men. It is entirely a
work of fictional entertainment.
Trapped Muscle-Cop, Part 18
By Reflex (reflex012004@yahoo.com)
Copyright 2006
Part 18: A Brief(s) Respite
Lance Packer was on his bicycle making his early morning rounds. The
sixteen-year-old guy never liked having to get up early, but being the
local newspaper delivery boy for the past two years had given him a bit of
extra cash, which he liked a lot. An hour on his bicycle every morning
also provided a useful workout for the strong legs of the blond high-school
baseball player.
As Lance sped down the street, tossing the morning paper in the general
direction of people's doorsteps, he had no idea that this particular
morning one of the local residents was lying in wait. Colonel Dudley stood
behind the curtains of his livingroom window peeking out onto the street.
For at least the past six months, the morning paper never made it anywhere
near the Colonel's doorstep. Instead, it always ended up on the wet lawn,
turning into a soggy, inky rag before the Colonel could get his hands on
it. Enough was enough, Dudley had decided. He had already given Lance one
stern lecture about it to no effect. In fact, recently the paper seemed to
be getting tossed farther across the lawn so that not only was the paper
wet, but the Colonel's shoes got soaked as he was forced to walk to the far
end of the front garden to retrieve the blasted thing. He was sure that
Lance was doing this on purpose and was determined to catch him in the act
and give him one final warning.
"Ah, there you are, you little devil," Dudley muttered to himself. He saw
the baseball-capped teenager making his way down the street. The Colonel
couldn't help but notice Lance's fit muscular body. Lance's loose
navy-blue tank top was draped from broad shoulders and displayed the strong
arms with which the budding athlete hit his locally reknown home-runs.
From the sophomore's trim hips hung a pair of knee-length jean shorts. His
defined calves pumping on the bicycle pedals, hinted at thickly muscled
thighs underneath the loose denim. The Colonel mused to himself that if
this punk were only a few years older he would be getting more than a
lecture.
Whhhrrrrrrrrrrrrr... splat! Once again the paper landed on the far side of
the sodden lawn, nowhere near the front door.
Dudley gasped. "Dammit! You think that's funny don't you? Well, that
does it!" he growled to himself as he raced to his front door to catch the
high-school miscreant.
When Dudley flung his door open to run after the paper delivery boy, he saw
that Lance had got off his bicycle and was walking up to the front of
Martino's house. Dudley paused trying to figure out what was going on.
Lance seemed to be standing on the porch.
"Whoooaaa... shit! What the fuck?" said a stunned Lance as he took in the
sight of Rick and Tom tied down on the garden recliners. Lance had never
seen anything like this in his life. Tom looked at the teenager with
pleading eyes. Lance could see Tom's fingers scrabbling at the sides of
the lawnchair. Rick groaned into the bandanna that had been stuffed into
his mouth and sealed with a strip of duct tape. He was sure that everyone
in the neighborhood was going to know about this now. His hands balled
into fists in frustration as this kid stood there with a nasty grin on his
face. For Rick, this was the most humiliating experience of his life. He
hated not being in control and wondered what this kid was going to do. He
cocked an eyebrow at Lance and attempted to assert some authority. He
wanted Lance to untie him, but the words came out muffled and
incomprehensible.
"UN-PHYYY MN! UN-PHYYY MN! PHAAMED! WUMBBUH UNMPH!"
Lance felt a slight stirring in his pants and rubbed his crotch a bit. He
looked at the harness on Rick's briefs-encased cock. His eyes narrowed in
contemplation of the odd contraption. "Man, that's gotta feel kinda
funny," he said. He looked a little closer. "What is that?" Lance
resisted the temptation to reach out and touch Rick's trapped dick.
Instead, he turned his attention to Tom who was raising his hips up. Tom
seemed to be gesturing with his eyes like he wanted Lance's attention on
something in particular. What he wanted was for Lance to pull the
tormenting plug out of his butt. He didn't care who did it, he just
couldn't stand the relentless prodding of his joy-button and the ache it
was causing in his dick.
Lance gave Tom a curious look. "You gotta be kidding, man. You want me to
jack you off? Fuck, dude... no way!"
Tom shook his head back and forth. "NOPH! Gumph wumph pwooofff ove!"
Lance laughed. "No comprendo, man. Geeze, you guys are into some crazy
shit." Looking at Tom, he asked, "Hey, haven't I seen you around. Don't
tell me you're the cop that lives here. My mom says he's kind of an idiot,
real stuck-up. If that's you, dude, I guess you finally got what you had
coming, huh?"
"UDS NNNHH MN... WEH MN UUMPHH!" Tom tried to say.
"Yeah, you guys look like you're into some freakin' kinky shit. Hey, are
you a couple'a cocksuckers?"
"MMMNNNGGHH!" Rick shouted, his face turning red.
"Mmmmmgggghhhfff?" Lance repeated teasingly. "I told ya, I don't play with
other dudes' dicks man. You wanna see mine, though?" he asked.
Lance unzipped his fly, reached in and fished out his hefty teenage prong.
He stepped towards Rick's face.
"MNNUUDDFFPHHUUKKUUUUHHH!" shouted Rick into his gag. He jerked his head
away.
Lance laughed. "No matter, dude. Fuck, I've gotta pee, though. How 'bout
a little morning OJ for ya, huh? Maybe in that helmet... hey, you work
construction? That's heavy work, man... you gotta keep yourself hydrated,
ha ha ha."
Rick's eyes opened wide. He tugged strenuously at the ropes binding his
waist, his arms and legs, banging the lawnchair up and down on the porch.
Lance heard what sounded like someone clearing his throat. He turned
around, cock in hand to see the Colonel standing at the bottom of the
steps. Dudley's eyes fastened onto the teen meat sticking out of the
unzipped fly of Lance's shorts.
"Hmmmmmmmm, that's all you've got?" said Dudley. "No wonder you can't
throw the newspaper properly. Perhaps you were made for catching, not
pitching."
Lance was momentarily stunned, but quickly began to tuck his dick back into
his jeans shorts. "Fu..." He started to tell the Colonel to get lost,
when he was cut off.
"No, you fuck off... and I mean now, unless you want to be this
neighborhood's EX-paper-delivery-boy. And another thing, if that paper
doesn't land square on my porch from now on, I'll be telling people just
what I saw you doing here, sucking these two men's cocks..."
"WHAT? NO FUCKIN' WAY!"
At that moment, the front door opened. Pete stepped onto the porch in a
bath towel. He reached down to Lance's yellow vinyl carrier bag and pulled
out a copy of the newspaper. "I believe this is for me," Pete said without
a trace of humor.
Lance nodded his head, leaned down and picked up his bag. He looked around
and said to no one in particular, "What the hell is this place?" Everyone
stared at him. He latched the strap of the carrier bag over his shoulder
and ran down the steps to his bicycle.
Pete looked at the Colonel and said calmly, "You must be Dudley."
The Colonel realized his tongue was hanging out. He rolled it back in,
cleared his throat and coughed. "Uh, yes... who are you?"
Pete looked at Tom and Rick.
Tom squirmed in his confinement. Pete reached down and removed the
clothespins from Tom's nipples.
"AAAAMMMMMMFFFF!" Tom squealed as the blood rushed back into his sore nubs.
Pete ran his fingers across Tom's muscular pecs. "Itchy?"
Tom groaned.
Pete smiled and looked over to Rick. "Soon boys... Colonel, step inside."
Pete held the door open and ushered Dudley into the foyer.
Fifteen minutes later and Colonel Dudley walked back out the front
door. His eyes twinkled and his moustache twitched. He looked at Rick with
a smile. Rick's face conveyed confusion and frustration. Dudley reached
over and tapped his finger on the tip of Rick's semi-hard cock, strapped
into his cotton briefs. He kept tapping until Rick was fully hard. Rick
expelled a blast of warm air from his flaring nostrils.
"This cotton is real damp around your knob, boy. Looks like you have been
doing quite a bit of leaking," Dudley said casually.
Rick grunted and balled his hands into fists. The muscles in his arms
pushed tight against the skin.
Dudley gave the hard cock a final tap. "I hear you two dickwipes have been
discharged, and from the looks of things, without honor. Not quite army
material, are you? I'm not surprised."
Rick's body bucked in the chair. He desperately wanted to reset the
Colonel's clock. The thought of Dudley or anybody having the upper hand
over him drove him nuts.
Dudley stood up straight and chuckled. He walked over to Tom and patted
the blond hunk's bloated orbs through the stretched jockstrap. Tom
whimpered. He wanted to squeeze his thighs shut to protect his cum-filled
sack, but instead, his big, muscular, hairy legs seemed unable to move,
giving Dudley full access. Tom shook his head back and forth, trying to
say "no". Dudley nodded "yes" and laughed. He reached down with one of
his fingers and touched the base of the plug lodged tight in Tom's
studhole. Dudley pushed on it a couple of times making the cute
muscle-stud squirm and grunt. Satisfied that he had taken away a little
more of Tom's self-control, the Colonel resumed a rythmic tapping on Tom's
trapped balls. Within a minute Tom shot of glob of spunk into the
cotton-mesh pouch. The Colonel closed his fingertips like an inverted
tulip around Tom's prickhead and in a light, corkscrewing manner scrubbed
the tender flesh as it strained against the stretchy fabric of the jock,
now sodden with Tom's goopy, spermy ejaculate.
"There we go, blondie. If I were you, I'd get used to it... fast! So
long, chumps," Dudley said with a snicker. He straightend himself up
again, and fairly jogged down the steps and across the street. His
pressed, tan-colored army trousers were tented. It was time for Jason's
breakfast.
**********
Pete looked down on Tony's sleeping body. The beefy Italian cop was lying
face down in nothing but his jockstrap, the sheets tangled about his tanned
hairy legs.
"Man, I can smell ya from here. Real nice and musky," Pete whispered to
himself. He leaned over and sniffed quietly down the crack between Tony's
firm glutes. He blew softly up and down, paying special attention to the
area near Tony's tightly closed ass pucker, hidden between the two luscious
muscled mounds. Tony let out a faint groan and clenced his butt cheeks a
tiny bit. Otherwise, he didn't stir. Pete reached up to Tony's shoulder
and gave it a gentle shake, trying to rouse him out of sleep.
"Hey buddy?"
Tony grunted into the pillow. Pete let out a soft low giggle and rubbed
Tony's shoulder briefly.
"Hey... hey... time to get up guy. The sun is shinin'... we got things to
do... come'on," Pete said. He let go of Tony's shoulder and slapped the
dozing cop's left butt cheek - smack!
"Wha...hoooo!" Tony yelped. "Okay, okay... heh heh, ya bastard... I'm up!"
"Get some clothes on, stud. We gotta get those two numbskulls off the
porch. I've got coffee brewing in the kitchen."
Tony yawned, stretched his muscles and said, "Be right out."
Pete mussed Tony's hair and headed off towards the kitchen. Tony looked
around for something to put on. He dug around in the chest of drawers, but
didn't see any of his clothes.
"Fuck, where's my gear?"
He saw his tee-shirt, gym shorts and sneakers on the floor and resigned
himself to putting them back on. No big deal, he thought. Pete was
wearing the same clothes from last night. They'd just stink a bit this
morning. He could change later.
It was around 8:00 in the morning when the Colonel, peeking through the
curtains again, saw Pete and Tony come out onto the porch. Pete went over
towards Rick, and Tony seemed to be talking to Tom.
"Ah haaaa... so it's true... here Sargent, have a look," Dudley said to
Jason.
Dudley moved his telescope on its tripod so that the lens poked between the
curtains. He stepped behind the chair in which Jason was sitting and
pushed it forward so that Jason could look through the fancy apparatus.
Leaning forward a bit to look at the scene across the street was about all
Jason could do. He was in his household uniform, the skimpy tee-shirt and
obscene shorts with the locking belt. A slender plug was lodged up his
butthole. His wrists were fastened with nylon straps to the armrests of
the sturdy metal-frame chair. His ankles were pulled back and likewise
fastened to the chair's hind legs. A similar strap was pulled taut across
his waist, keeping the handsome young cop seated. His mouth was stuffed
with his own briefs, kept in place by one of his own dirty socks tied in a
knot behind his head.
From behind the bound hunk, the Colonel's hands were slowly sliding down
Jason's chest towards the two stiff cones punching against the tight thin
cotton at the tip of his pec ridge. Having his chest teased this way
always made Jason weak.
The Colonel spoke softly into Jason's left ear, "It's goodbye Rick and Tom.
Bet you are glad to see them go, aren't you... That hot partner of yours
looks mighty happy too, doesn't he... yes, he can taste his freedom. Hope
he enjoys it. It's rather an exquisite turning of the tables, you have to
admit. There he is free as a bird... and here you are sliding deeper and
deeper and deeper into sexual entrapment." The Colonel reached down and
rubbed Jason's hard pecker through his shorts. Jason whimpered. How the
fuck was this happening to him? It was like the Colonel knew some kind of
secret code for making Jason instantly hard and horny. He looked at his
arms and legs... all that big hairy muscle, flexing helplessly. The sight
of his studly body all tied up made him even hornier.
"I wonder if he will try to rescue you?" the Colonel resumed. "Maybe. Or
perhaps he will remember the little game you tried to pull on him? What do
you think big boy?"
Jason grunted loudly into the gag and gave the Colonel a fierce look.
Dudley just laughed and said, "What are they doing now?"
**********
Tom gulped in fresh air, relieved to have the damp gag out of his mouth.
"Fuck, Tony. I hardly got any sleep last night," he said.
"Aw, come'on dude. What'd you expect? Hey, as pay-back goes, that wasn't
so bad," Tony replied with a grin.
"Wasn't so bad? Dude, I got mosquito bites!"
Tony looked over at Pete untying Rick's ankles. The two guys laughed.
"Mosquito bites, huh? Where? Here on your chest?" Tony asked.
"Yeah, right there... hey, NO, don't scratch 'em, man... NO... aw shit!"
Tom whined.
Tony was gently scrabbling his fingers across Tom's hairy pecs. So far as
he could tell, there were only three or four bites, but that would be
enough to make Tom's sexy chest itch like crazy for the day.
"Oh man, Tony. You're gonna get 'em all worked up... aw
fuck... nnnggghhh..." Tom grunted as he watched Tony's fingers circle
closer and closer to his stiffening nipples. Tom couldn't help himself.
Instinctively, he flexed his big weight-trained muscles in his bonds and
wiggled his booted feet. He was getting turned on and his fat cock was
starting to harden-up again in his jock. "Aw heck yeah, your workin' my
pecs, buddy, makin' 'em itch and I can't fuckin stop ya. I'm gonna be
scratchin' my hot juicy tits all day and that's gonna fuckin' keep my dick
hard... oh man!"
Tom looked at Tony and saw that the cop's gym shorts were seriously tented.
Tony followed Tom's gaze and noticed his own condition. He abruptly
stopped playing with Tom and stood up straight. Tom saw the frown on
Tony's face and smiled to himself. A thought crossed his mind, "Yeah, I
might be the one tied up, but you, buddy, are still the one that's
trapped... way fuckin' trapped."
"Hey," Pete said. "Get him untied, will ya. I'm nearly done over here."
Tony looked over and saw that Pete was untying Rick's wrists. Pete was not
exactly in a hurry, but he didn't want to draw this out. Having Rick
helplessly vulnerable to whatever Pete might wish to do to him was hugely
tempting for the big construction boss, but he had to play his cards
carefully. What he and Tony had done to Rick and Tom last night was easily
explained away as pay-back for what had been done to Tony, and that is how
Pete wanted Rick to remember it. Pete had to look clear of any personal
sexual motives in order to keep the upper hand with his employee. One
false move, his hand lingering too long on Rick's sturdy thighs, and the
Machiavellian schemer might become alerted to the possibility of chipping
away at his boss's macho reputation. More importantly, Pete didn't want to
do anything that might compromise Tony's trust in him.
"Yeah, I'm workin' on it," Tony replied. "Just havin' a bit of fun
reminding Tom who's boss now," Tony said with a satisfied grin. He stepped
down to Tom's boots and started untying the ropes that secured Tom's big
feet to the reclining lawnchair. The backs of Tony's fingers brushed
against the soft leather of the boots and in a second of distraction he ran
his palm across the top of one of the boots, towards the rounded toe. Tom
noticed and kept watching. Tony quickly returned both his hands back to
the task of untying the multiple knots in the ropes. His hunched-over
position was uncomfortable so he squatted at Tom's feet. As his hands
fiddled with the tangled strands, something about the feel of the rope sent
a tingle down his spine. He looked up at Tom's tanned legs. They were so
big and muscular and thickly covered in dark-blond hairs. Tony's left hand
dropped down to his crotch and he gave his dick a squeeze before catching
himself.
"What the fuck am I doin'?" he muttered. He returned to the knots. Tom
flexed the muscles in his calves and thighes. If Tony had looked at Tom's
face, he would have seen a huge grin.
With the ankles free, Tony stepped over to Tom's right wrist. Five minutes
later and both Tom's hands were free as well. Tony kneeled down behind the
chair and undid the ropes that secured Tom's waist to the recliner. Tom
sat up and looked at Tony.
"Yeah...what?" Tony asked.
"These ropes around my biceps, Tone. The knots are all over the place."
"Oh yeah, hang on... here, stand up, will ya, I'm tired of bending over,"
Tony said.
Tom pushed himself off the right side of the chair and nearly fell into
Tony.
"Sorry, I haven't got my balance yet and since I can't move my upper
arms..."
"Yeah, yeah... turn around," Tony said. "Man, what the hell was I
thinkin'? I put knots in back, in front, everywhere."
"Tell me about it, dude," Tom chuckled.
No sooner had Tony untied a knot in back, then he had to reach around Tom's
chest to untie one in front. Tom wondered why Tony didn't just spin him
around. Instead, working from behind forced Tony to look over Tom's
shoulder. Consequently, the two guys were pressed together, front to back.
Tom could hear Tony's deep breaths as the cop subconsciously inhaled the
ripe sweaty odors wafting off Tom's upper body. Tom could also feel Tony's
solid pipe nestling between his butt cheeks. It was clearly twitching in
those tight gym shorts he had on.
When that final knot at the center of Tom's chest was loosened, the rope
fell away. Tom immediately raised his arms up to stretch them. He then
rolled them into a double-biceps pose.
"Oh, that feels good," he said.
Tony watched from behind as Tom kept his left arm pumped, but brough his
right hand over to rub the soreness.
"They're a little red from where the ropes dug in," Tony said looking at
Tom's arm, taking in the thick muscle sheathed in that tight,
sweat-covered, skin, "but, uh, that'll be gone by tomorrow, dude."
Tom brought his arms down and looked over his shoulder at Tony. He let out
a little sigh and in his best seductive whisper said, "Hey, man, could ya
help me get that thing outta my ass. It drove me nuts all night. You
really got me good there, bro."
Tony looked down at the solid roundness of Tom's jockstrapped ass and
swallowed. He put his left hand on Tom's back and pushed until Tom was
bent over. Tony then crouched down and tentatively raised his right hand
towards Tom's downy-haired butt. As he stared, he leaned in a bit. Tom
thought he heard Tony sniffing. Then he felt two fingers trailing down his
cleft. He smiled to himself and tried to look over his back.
"Ya found it, dude?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah... here, hold on a sec," Tony said, refocusing his
attention. With his thumb and index finger he got a grip on the base and
gently pulled.
"Uunngghh!" Tom grunted. "Oh yeah, oh yeah... that's it, bro... get that
thing outta there... real nice and gently... oh man, that feels
better... uunggghh... OH! Hoooohhh, thanks man... whew!"
Tom stood up and turned to face Tony who was still crouching, holding the
slimy black butt toy in his right hand. Tom took the plug from Tony's
fingers and then lifted Tony's right arm a bit. He inserted the plastic
device, covered in his slippery and smelly butt juice, under Tony's right
armpit. Tom then lowered Tony's arm, and pistoned the plug back and forth,
effectively fucking Tony's armpit with it and wiping the plug off on the
underarm of Tony's tee-shirt. Tony stayed motionless, watching what Tom
was doing. His dick was now so hard it was pushing out the waistband of
his shorts.
"There you go, dude... all cleaned for ya. Sorry about your tee, though,"
Tom said with a wink.
"UH HUM..."
Tom and Tony looked across the porch to see Pete and Rick staring at them,
each with his arms folded. Rick had a very satisfied grin, as if what he
had said to Pete last night about Tony liking it, was just proven true.
Pete spoke up. "Right... get packing, you two," he said to Rick and Tom.
"And don't take anything that doesn't belong to you! We'll be watching."
Rick headed into the house. Tom flashed his eyes at Tony and said,
"Ooops!" He shrugged his shoulders, confident that he had just taught Tony
a parting lesson, and followed after Rick.
Tony stood up, his face red.
Pete looked at him and said, "Those two are tricky. We've gotta keep an
eye on 'em."
To Tony's huge relief, Pete didn't seem like he was going to make anything
of what he had just seen.
**********
There were a few disagreements over what belonged to whom, but all-in-all,
it took less than an hour for Rick and Tom to load up Tom's truck with all
their worldly goods. Several of the big black plastic garbage bags were
filled with the guys' dirty clothes, neither Rick nor Tom being of a mind
to do their laundry on a regular basis. Rick was pissed off about leaving
behind some of the gadgets he had bought - the cameras and various toys -
and had tried to build a case for them belonging to him, but in the end, he
had to concede since they had all been paid for with Tony's money.
As Tom finished tying a tarpaulin over the back of his truck to keep things
from falling out, Rick strolled over to his new Nissan and opened the door.
"Carter!" Pete yelled, "aren't you forgetting something?"
Rick gave him a blank look.
"The keys, guy. The keys to the house. Hand 'em over," Pete said.
Rick reached into his pocket, pulled a set of keys out, rattled them in the
bright late-morning sun, and tossed them over to Pete. He looked over at
Tom and said, "Follow me."
As Tom was about to get into the cabin of his truck, Tony stopped him.
"Hey buddy, just one last thing," he said. Tony took hold of Tom's left
wrist and popped the latch on the big shiny metal watch. "I'll take that,"
he said. "Here's your's. I kept it good and safe for ya. Ha ha ha ha
ha!"
Tom let Tony fasten his cheap old watch back onto his wrist. "Man, this
sucks," he grumbled. Tony patted him on the shoulder. "No hard feelings,
dude. Now get the hell out of here and don't let me catch you speeding."
Pete watched this brief parting scene with amusement. He couldn't believe
what he had just heard Tony say. "What the hell is that?" Pete thought to
himself. "This guy literally fucked you over and was prepared to use your
body, your house, and your money for as long as it suited him and all you
have to say is 'no hard feelings'? Good thing you are the hottest fuckin'
muscle-stud I ever laid eyes on, Anthony Martino, because you're even
dumber than I thought you were!" Fortunately for Pete, his thoughts were
illegible on his smiling face.
As Rick and Tom headed off down the street, Tony let out a loud whallopping
"Wooo-Haaaa" and headed into the kitchen. Pete handed him a glass of
orange juice.
"Hey Tony, what've ya got planned for today?" Pete asked.
"I wanna clean this place up a bit, but before I do that I'm goin' for a
good long run. You wanna come with me?"
"Naw, thanks guy, but I should get home... clean up... get a few things
done. Listen, you wanna get together later this afternoon or
somethin'... stoke up the grill in the backyard and lay on a few
burgers... down a few brews and generally fuckin' celebrate?" Pete asked.
"Totally, man. I am so fuckin' down with that. How 'bout I give you a
call a little later?" said Tony.
"You're on chief. Talk to ya later." Pete said.
Pete grabbed his car keys off the counter and headed out the door. He
shouted back, "Hey, man, have a good run!"
Tony waved. "Will do, bro. Later!" He closed the kitchen door and headed
towards his bedroom. His first act was to strip the sheets off his bed and
throw them in the wash. He searched through his drawers again for a clean
pair of briefs. Finding nothing, he scratched his head and looked about
the room. His eyes landed on a pile of clothes shoved in a corner beyond
the bedside table. He recognized some of his things, knelt down and
started digging through the mess. He picked up a pair of his underpants
and inspected them. He picked up another and another. Every pair had piss
stains or large stiff encrustations of dried cum.
"Awwww geeeze, those bastards were wearin' my own fuckin' briefs... shit!"
Tony looked at the pair in his hands. As his thumb and index finger rubbed
back and forth over the crotch, he felt the stiffness of the material. On
closer look he noticed blond pubic hairs in the pouch. "Tom must have worn
these," Tony muttered to himself. He brought the dirty briefs up to his
nose and inhaled. He pressed them tighter, breathing in Tom's pungent
crotch odor.
Tony snapped his head up. "What the fuck am I doing?" He stood up and
turned around, catching his reflection in the full-length mirror next to
the chest of drawers on the other side of the room. With the odiferous
briefs still in his left hand, he looked at his reflection. He couldn't
resist smiling as he saw himself in those little white gym shorts, every
contour of his tight bubble butt delineated, his thick darkly-haired legs
on full display. He ran his right hand across his chest and down to the
hem of his snug tee-shirt, feeling the solidity of his muscular torso.
When the fingers of his right hand reached the elastic waistband of his
shorts they hesitated and then slowly dipped inside. Looking in the
mirror, he watched his hand fumble with the waistband of his jock, then
felt his strong fingers inch their way down and around his hard cock. Tony
grazed his itchy cock-tip with his thumb. He grunted and spread his legs a
bit, feeling the pull of the tight shorts across the tops of his meaty
thighs. He smiled at his reflection, admiring his square jaw, full lips,
seductive brown eyes, and the thick brownish-black hair on his head.
"Dude, you are so fuckin' handsome," he said to himself.
Tony raised his left arm and pumped the bicep. "Ah yeah, fuckin' hot
muscles, man..."
He brought his pumped up bicep to his lips, stuck out his tongue and gave
the hard muscle a couple of gentle licks. His right hand was now
corkscrewing his engorged dick-knob. While Tony was licking his bicep he
could smell the briefs still gripped in his left hand. He brought them
back to his face and inhaled again. Using a couple of fingers he started
shoving the crotch of the briefs into his mouth, watching himself in the
mirror as he did it. Instantly, his salutary glands started churning out
saliva, dampening the stiff, dirty cotton material as he chewed on it.
Tony let out a little whimper. He brought his left hand over to his right
bicep and squeezed the thick muscle. Soon he was using that hand to feel
up his whole arm, sliding his sweaty palm and teasing fingers from his
tee-shirt sleeve down to where his right arm ducked into his shorts.
"Nnggghh... hottt phukin' arrrms... oh wyeah, big 'n haareee... phittt..."
he moaned into the briefs packed into his warm mouth.
On a downward slide, Tony's left hand tucked down into his shorts, sliding
past his right hand and cupping his big hairy balls. He began gently
squeezing his nuts with one hand while with the other, he continued
tormenting the tip of his dick.
"Hhhnnnnnnhhh..." Tony let out a quiet moan and sank to his knees on the
bedroom carpet. He saw himself in the mirror and lusted after his own
massive spread thighs. He wanted to run his hands through all that soft
dark hair. "Ohhhhh... hottt musssel copph," he said through his stuffed
mouth as he watched the muscles in his arms while he worked his cock and
balls into a frenzy. His balls felt so warm and sweaty. They were
tingling so much he thought he could feel them churning up a massive batch
of his thick cop sauce. His dick was pulsing hard. While his thumb grazed
the tip, stoking the intense itch, his fingers strummed the underside of
the shaft, teasing the tightly stretched satiny skin. Tony closed his
eyes. His mind filled with the image of his own cock. He wanted to lick
it bad. He wanted the feel of a wet tongue sliding up and down his hard
rod. In his mind's eye he could see himself lapping and sucking on a fat
juicy cock tip. As he nursed on the delicious meat, his eyes took in the
view of a firmly muscled abdomen leading up to solid jutting pecs covered
in thick short brown hairs. Smiling down at him was... Pete. Tony's eyes
flew open. He groaned into his gagged mouth. His dick lurched back and
then boom! Wad after wad of steamy sticky man juice erupted in his shorts,
pouring into his cupped hands.
"UHH! Unnngh... OH!
Hunnnngh... hunnngh... hunnngh... phwaaaaawww... nnnnngghhhhh... oooooohhhhhhh... mmmmmmmmmmnnn... ggggggggwwwaaah."
Tony spit the briefs from his mouth, inhaled deeply and looked down at his
shorts. Carefully, he pulled his hands out, trying not to spill his jism
all over his jock pouch. He looked at the pools of cum in his hands.
Slowly, he raised himself up onto his feet. Keeping his cupped palms in
front of him, Tony walked to the kitchen. He found an empty glass on the
counter and poured the gloopy contents of his hands into it, using his
fingers to wipe his palms clean, making sure to get everything into the
glass. He then wiped his hands on his tee-shirt and started rummaging
through a couple drawers until he found what he was looking for - a basting
brush. Tony dipped the brush into the cum and swirled it around, getting
it good and coated. He lifted the brush out of the glass and raised his
left arm, putting his left hand behind his head. He looked at his muscular
arm and at the tufts of pit hair poking beyond the short sleeve of his
tee-shirt.
"Yeah... I'm gonna take care of you guys now... gonna get ya all nice and
glossy."
Tony brought the dripping brush to the edge of the shirt sleeve and tucked
it under, pushing the brush down into his dense forest of black pit hair.
He swiped the brush back and forth, coating his reeking armpits.
"Oh man... oh man, shit yeah... I'm coatin' my pits with my own
cum... gettin' those ripe hairy caverns all slicked up and sticky and even
smellier... shit that's nice."
Tony had to stop for a minute to adjust his dick, which had sprung back to
full bonerization. He then resumed basting his left pit. When he was
about half way through the cum in the glass, Tony switched hands and raised
his right arm to get that pit all good and basted too. When the glass was
empty, Tony put the brush down and sniffed his pits. The underarms of his
tee-shirt were now damp and sticky. Tony flexed his biceps and brought his
nose down to his right pit. He was utterly lost in the smell. A minute or
two later he looked up at the clock on the wall.
"Shit! I gotta go for my run," Tony blurted out. He grabbed the keys that
hung on a string by the kitchen door and headed out. As he reached the end
of the driveway, he saw the Colonel coming out the front door of his house.
Dudley waved for Tony to come over.
"Officer Martino, you wouldn't be going for your usual run, by any chance,
would you?"
"Yeah, why?" Tony asked. He hadn't given any thought to the Colonel yet,
but suddenly realized there was still some sorting out to do.
"I met your friend Mr. Dubro... what was his name?"
"Dubrowski."
"Yes, Mr. Dubrowski. I understand that things have, er, changed over at
your place."
"That's right Colonel."
"Well, I do hope we can remain friends and that this won't interfere with,
uh, my, uh, special relationship with Officer O'Reilley."
"Uh huh... we'll have to see about that," Tony said noncommittally.
"Yes, well, we shall talk later. Meanwhile, Jason could do with some fresh
air. I think he'd like to join you on your run, if that's no trouble."
"Nope. No problem. It's not exactly like I've never met him before. He
is my partner on morning patrol, after all."
"I'll just go get him. Won't be a minute."
Jason came out the front door reluctantly. He was actually pushed by the
Colonel. Tony's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Jason had on running
shoes with no socks and his buff hairy chest was on full display. No big
deal. Tony often ran with his shirt off. At the moment, however, Tony was
thinking that it might be better for Jason to run in the nude since the one
item of clothing he was wearing was a pair of bright pink satin running
shorts.
"Holy Pride Parade!" Tony shouted. "You look fuckin' gay, man!"
Jason looked at Tony like he could strangle him. "Do not start with me,
asshole," he said. Then under his breath he growled, "You fuckin' got me
into this, you had better get me out of it. Hear me? You have no idea
what that fucker does to me."
Now it was Tony's turn to look pissed off. "You wanna bet? And as for who
got who into what, we've already been over that, fucker. You were tryin'
to drop me in the shit and you got caught in your own trap. So, don't
whine to me about it. Anyway, just shut-up about it now. I'll come up
with something. Come'on, move your pretty ass, time's a tickin'."
Tony gave Jason a swat on the butt. Jason felt the first tremors of
stiffening in his dick and silently prayed for it not to get full-hard.
**********
Across town Rick and Tom pulled up in front of their old apartment
building. They had let go of their place when they moved into Tony's
house, but now having literally nowhere to go, Rick was hoping that the
superintendant, might have some empty apartments. As it turned out, the
place was full.
"Everyone wants to live downtown these days," said Mr. Alvarez. "The rent
nearly doubled for that place you used to live in. My suggestion is try
over at the Barrington Arms on Poplar Street. You know, about six blocks
from here."
When Rick and Tom found the building, Rick grumbled, "You have got to be
kidding me. This is a dump."
"Yeah, well, let's not be hasty," Tom said anxiously.
Half an hour later and they had signed the lease for a third-floor walk-up
in back, fully-furnished, no references necessary.
"Okay," Tom said, "it is a dump, but it fits our budget."
Rick growled. "Let's go get our stuff."
Tom saw a look in Rick's eyes that he hadn't seen in some time... not
since high school when Tom had dropped by one evening to tell Rick that he
was going on a date without him and ended up tied to Rick's bed getting his
nuts drained while he licked out Rick's butt. After that night, Tom was
firmly in Rick's control. The thought of what might be going through
Rick's mind now made Tom a little worried. It also caused his dick to
punch out the front of his jeans.
**********
It was about 4:30 in the afternoon when Pete's mobile phone rang. He was
down in his basement putting the finishing touches on one of his projects.
Ever since he was a kid he had been into building things, working with wood
and metal. By the time he was in high school he had made all the furniture
in his bedroom. Pete's dad knew his son was a natural for the construction
business.
Pete was almost done working and contemplating a long shower when he picked
up the telephone.
"Hey, my favorite cop. How was the run, stud?"
Tony told him that he had seen Jason and that they were going to have to do
something to get him out of the mess he was in.
"Yeah, sure, we'll fix his problem if that's what you really want."
Tony made a comment about being happy to take their own sweet time and let
Jason stew a bit longer. Pete burst out laughing at the news of Jason's
pink running shorts.
"HA! Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Man, I'd have liked to see
that. So what's the plan for tonight, guy? 6:00? What's that, an hour
and a half from now? Yeah, that's perfect, man. Okay, I'll bring the
beer. See ya in a bit," Pete said.
Tony put the phone down and looked at his watch. "Right, shower first,
then the supermarket," he said to himself. He looked in the fridge to see
what else they might need, like salad or condiments.
Tony took a little longer than usual scrubbing himself clean in the shower.
Jason had told him that he really reeked. He decided to skip giving
himself a shave, heck, it was only Pete coming over for a little bar-b-que.
He dried off, styled his hair and walked out into his bedroom before he
realized that "Fuck! I've got no clean clothes!"
Tony walked over to his closet and kicked through the things lying on the
floor until he found an old pair of jeans.
"Damn, where are my new Levi's and where the heck is the rest of my stuff.
Those fuckers took most of my clothes. I'll have to see if Pete can get
those two jerks for fork over what they took from me."
Tony pulled the jeans on, barely getting the top button fastened. Then he
remembered that the last time he had worn these jeans was about five years
ago, when he was 20 years old. He was bigger now. He fished around until
he found an old white button-down shirt. He slipped it on and rolled the
sleeves up to his elbows, letting the shirt-tails hang outside his pants.
He had a pair of sandals somewhere in the closet, but for whatever reason,
on the spur of the moment Tony decided he would stick his freshly cleaned
dogs back into his raunchy-smelling sneakers. As he tied the laces he felt
his dick plump up a bit, but didn't pay it any attention. Tony snapped on
his watch. "Sheesh, forty-five minutes? I'd better get a move on," he
thought. He stuffed his wallet into his back pocket, checked himself in
the mirror, and grabbed his car keys.
Pete pulled into the parking lot, making sure to have a clear view of the
entrance to the supermarket. He was taking a chance that Tony had not
already gone inside, but he had cruised the lot a bit and hadn't seen
Tony's car. He opened his binoculars and waited. He didn't have to wait
long. Within five minutes he saw Tony enter through the sliding glass
doors. Pete put his truck in gear and headed to Tony's place. Of course,
he'd be there when Tony got home, but that was easily explained away - he
was in a good mood and couldn't wait to get the evening started. Plus,
he'd tell Tony he was hungry, which had the merit of being true. All told,
Pete figured he had about fifteen minutes from the time he got to Tony's to
unload his truck. Then he just had to keep Tony out of the basement.
While pulling into Tony's driveway he reached down and felt his pocket to
make sure he still had the keys Rick had tossed to him earlier.