Denny, the Vice Cop
by Bill Fore  - b4@earthlink.net

     I had been an L.A. cop for almost a year... working out of the
Hollywood station.  I had just been reassigned and partnered with a hard
little broad about two years older than me.  Tough-as-nails Angie had
graduated from the police academy about six months before I did.  She was
the top female in her class... a short- haired dishwater blonde
five-foot-six body builder and Karate black belt who could manhandle just
about anyone.  She and I were assigned to street patrol working general
crime and vice on the night shift.  Even though Angie was a first-class
bitch, it was far better than the dull traffic detail I had been working
for my first eleven months as a cop.
     At the time this occurred I was twenty-three, six foot two, broad
shouldered, muscular, a second generation medium brown-skinned
Hispanic-American.  Angie didn't especially like me and often called me
"pretty boy," because of my very youthful model looks.  I wasn't really
macho and she often said she was a better man than I was.  The guys at the
station said they thought she was a "dyke" who didn't seem to like any
males.  I was constantly being teased by the other male officers in the
locker room about not putting my finger in the "dyke" while I was alone on
patrol with Angie.
     Not in a million years!
     I had never been really comfortable around girls, although I hid it
well and dated a lot in high school and junior college.  So... I felt
especially threatened by hard little Angie.  When we were on duty I was
always on edge and played everything exactly "by the book" with her.  You
see, there was an on-going sexual harassment investigation at our station
and I certainly didn't want to get involved in any of the pending charges.
     Since she was my senior, Angie drove our old beat up patrol car while
I handled radios.  She was one wild driver and loved sirens and chases.  My
idea of policing was entirely different, but I had to go along with hot-
rod Angie and her tough cop escapades.
     Each night was a wild adventure.  We usually had one, two or three
serious "domestics" a night, an overdose or two, some street fights, and
often also had to cover robberies and work backup on homicides.  It was
frequently very gory stuff, and I sometimes wondered what had made me want
to be a cop.
     One of our prime jobs was to keep the pressure on the hundreds of
prostitutes and hustlers working in Hollywood.  As long as they were
walking and minding their own business we couldn't legally harass them, but
if we found them loitering or intercepting a "john" we'd stop them, run
their i.d., frisk them for drugs and hopefully scare them enough to get
them moving again.  Sometimes we'd even try to scare the "john," too.  A
few times we hauled the prostitute or hustler in for a few nights on some
vague or real charge, but only if they were regulars or had outstanding
warrants.  Most of them were disgusting, dirty drug addicts.  I didn't like
the duty and didn't see what good we were doing, but it was policy so we
kept doing it... night after night.  I think Angie loved it!
     Every month, regular as a clock, Angie had one or two sick days.  I
could tell when they were coming because the two previous nights were pure
hell.  She was an absolute bastard on those nights.  But, when she was on
sick leave, life was heaven because I normally drove the shift alone.
     This was one of those "night before's."
     I'd been partnered with Angie for about five months.  We were working
Santa Monica Boulevard just after dark one night when we saw a "fresh" kid
standing on the other side of the street with a back pack in his hand
waiting for a light to change.  Angie roughly said, "let's get 'em,"
flipped on the siren and did a hairy U-turn in heavy traffic.
     We slid to a stop with all of our lights flashing in front of the
startled kid.  In our headlights it was clear that he was someone we'd
never seen before on the streets.  He looked very different from the
hustlers we normally busted... about fifteen or sixteen, very clean cut,
curly blond hair, well built, tanned, and an exceptionally handsome face.
It was a very warm, tropically humid August night so he wore only white
Levi cut-off's (or "rip-off's") with white socks and sneakers, and had a red
tank top draped over his shoulders.  He was a real sight and his body
looked surprisingly terrific.  (Like I said, most of the kids we picked up
were duds...  bad face, bad skin, dirty, out of shape.)
     This kid was the perfect "chicken," and couldn't possibly have been
there for long or he would have caused a "chicken-chasers" traffic jam.
The guys that cruise the street looking for young kids to have sex with
would have thought they'd seen a vision with one good look at him.
     His Missouri drivers license said, "Kenneth D.  LeRoux," and indicated
that he was about a month over eighteen... five-foot-five, 135 pounds,
blond hair, blue eyes.  I went back into the car and ran the info on the
computer while Angie bent him over the hood of the squad car, frisked him
for drugs, roughed him up far more than necessary and generally scared him
shitless.  Angie came over to my window to check for warrants and I told
her he was clean.  "Okay, Denny, he says he just got off the bus.  Let's
cuff him, put him in the car and give him the evil Hollywood lecture."
     Angie loved this tough cop power-trip stuff so I only held the door
open while she cuffed him and roughly shoved him in the back seat.  His
tank top had fallen to the sidewalk.  I put it on the seat next to him,
along with his back pack, before I closed the door.  We had been blocking
traffic, so Angie slowly began to drive.
     The kid was very scared and told us his story along with lots of
tears.  He'd just walked from the Hollywood Greyhound station and was
heading to see a young man he knew from back home that worked at a
restaurant about a mile further down Santa Monica Boulevard.  The guy was
going to let him stay with him for a few days.  "I'm tellin' you, I ain't
no prostitute," he said.  "It hasn't come to that!"
     Kenneth had been on the bus for three days riding from Joplin,
Missouri, he said.  His mother was Polish, his father was French.  His
slight accent came because they'd lived in New Orleans for a few years.
His father had split to wherever.  He freely told us that his mother had
caught him experimenting sexually with another boy and had given him hell
for it for almost a year.  She had clearly given up on him and wanted him
out of her life.  He'd finally graduated and waited until he was eighteen
and had made enough money so that he could split.
     I believed him and ornery Angie was even softening.  We told him that
he was very lucky that he hadn't been attacked.  Angie added that lots of
kids on the street turn up missing and everyone thinks that a lot of them
are killed by the "johns" that pick them up for sex.  After about twenty
minutes of cruising and talking with the kid in the back seat, we pulled
into a side street and I uncuffed him.  He'd finished his cry and wiped his
eyes of the residue as soon as his hands were free.  We'd scared him enough
so that he wasn't sure he should go back out on the street.  I suggested we
take him to one of the homeless shelters, but they were a bit away from our
assigned beat.  He just continued to ride with us.
     When we got a chance we drove by the restaurant, but the guy he knew
had been fired two days before.  I detected that Kenneth's despair was
growing.  My own fear was growing, too.  When I glanced at him in the back
seat I realized that this beautiful young colt was oozing sex from every
pore and was beginning to have a very serious effect on me.
     We stopped for our break to eat and Kenneth pulled on his tank top and
came with us at Angie's suggestion.  Angie's new softness toward him really
startled me, especially because I knew she wasn't feeling good.  He was a
surprisingly bubbly kid with lots of personality.  When he told a story he
was lots of fun and very animated.  He looked even more fresh and sensual
in the bright lights of the restaurant.  Soon both Angie and I were calling
him "Ken" or "Kenny."  I was deeply intrigued by him in a very strange way
and he seemed to look at me a lot and pay special attention to me.  When he
smiled or laughed, my heart skipped a few beats and I became more and more
captivated... and scared.  He paid for his own meal, even though I'd
offered to buy it for him.
     He rode with us through the rest of our shift, watching us pick up and
book a guy for vagrancy who was really out of it, going to three domestics
to settle things down, catching a hooker and her john in the act of making
a deal, and a few other not-very-violent activities.  It was a dull night
so Angie, Kenny and I did a lot of talking.  Kenny's presence made a
"night- from-hell" with grumpy, hostile Angie bearable.
     We had decided that I would take Ken to the Covenant House shelter
about four miles away in East Hollywood when our shift was over.  When we
pulled into the station I unlocked my three year old Mustang convertible
and Ken waited in my car while Angie and I filled out some duty forms,
changed and checked out.
     I decided to have a midnight snack with Ken before dropping him at the
homeless shelter.  We ate, chatted and joked together, and then... after
some very weak moments as I fell more deeply under his spell... I suggested
that he could stay in my apartment for the night.  Again, he absolutely
insisted on paying for our meal... this time both his and mine.
     Home wasn't all that fancy, but it was all mine.  My father was an
unknown drifter who had charmed my mother into a one night stand.  Mother
was really a drifter, too.  She had moved away to Hawaii with her new
boyfriend just after I'd joined the department.  So... there was no
relatives around.  I was alone and free!
     My 4th floor apartment had a small living room with TV and stereo, a
kitchen and breakfast nook, a small bedroom with a queen-sized bed,
closets, and a large doorless bathroom with a huge step-in shower.  There
was a small side room with a toilet that could be closed off, but the rest
of the bathroom was wide open to the bedroom.  The apartment was on the top
floor in the back of an old remodeled building on one of Hollywood's little
side streets in the hills.  My unit was cut from a three bedroom
apartment... hence, the strange sized rooms.
     The best thing about the place, besides the low rent, was a nice, very
secluded deck outside the bedroom.  I hung an old rug on the railing so
that nobody around could see anything.  For an hour each afternoon, before
I went to work, I'd often lay in the sun bare ass naked, get more deeply
tanned, stroke my randy cock and dream strange sexual thoughts.  I also
kept an old barbell on the balcony for some light nude workouts.
     When we got off the old elevator and quickly toured my "digs", Ken
acted very impressed.  He thanked me for letting him stay and told me over
and over again that he didn't want to cause me any trouble or get in my
way.  Actually, I'd been very lonesome in the place and had been thinking
for about six months about getting a roommate.  Since there was only one
bedroom and bed, I knew I would have to be very careful about the roommate
idea, and I didn't want anyone at the department thinking something weird
was going on with me.
     As I said, it was a warm August night and I had been sweating in my
hot uniform.  Although Ken didn't look or smell skuzzy, he claimed he
hadn't showered since starting his trip.  I found two bath towels and
handed him one.  He went into the bathroom and immediately pulled off his
cut-off's, sneakers and socks.  I noticed that he wore no underwear.
     I tried not to look!
     I couldn't help it.  I stole a few glances while Ken was getting the
water set.  He was one hell-of-a sexy, good looking kid with a small,
beautifully muscular frame and what appeared to be a very oversized, cut,
beautifully veined cock and big, dangling balls.  Beyond a doubt he was by
far the most sensual male I'd ever seen in my life.
     He left the water set after he finished his shower and motioned for me
so, as he toweled dry and watched, I stripped and began my shower.  I
preened as I washed myself, trying to be sure that he saw only my best
angles.  I had been proud of my deeply tanned, gym-made body with it's
seven and a half inch cock, but now I was feeling a little nervous knowing
I was being so closely scrutinized by this very handsome young male.  I was
surprised at myself.  I really wanted to impress him.  I thought that some
of my feelings seemed like a girl on her first date.
     Wrapped in towels, we laid on the bed and talked for a while.  He was
very bubbly, but I was getting sleepy.  Ken noticed that I was fussing with
a sore back muscle.  He talked me in to letting him give me a back rub, so
I laid on my stomach on the open bed, clad only in the towel wrap, while he
knelt beside me and massaged my sore back.
     His rubbing was terrific... like a tonic.  The next thing I knew it
was morning.  When I woke up, Ken was laying beside me on his side under
the sheet... looking at me.
     "Hi!"  His voice was soft but very friendly.  "Hi," I said.  "You
slept good, Denny.  I've been needing to take a leak, but I didn't want to
wake you."  He patted my shoulder and began to get up.  When the sheet fell
away I noticed that Ken was totally nude and had a full hardon that he
didn't try to hide.  Now I saw him much more close-up.  His expanded organ
really did look oversized for his compact body... probably eight and a half
inches or so, thick, with a big, beautiful crimson cockhead.
     He allowed me a long look as he stretched.  Then he turned and I
watched his tight buns bounce as he walked to the bathroom.  I heard the
stream of water hit the commode and last a long time.  He washed his face
and brushed his teeth before returning to lay on the bed next to me again.
He smiled.  "Whew... that's a load off my mind," he said with a wink.  I
was glad that the sheets hid my own erection.
     "Ah, officer... listen," he smiled.  "I don't want to get in your way
this morning.  I'd like to catch a shower and then make a phone call to
Venice.  I think I've got a day or two of work for a photographer I talked
to before I left home.  If he wants to use me, then I'll have enough to
avoid the shelter.  I can rent a place with the modeling money I'll make
and then get a regular job... probably a waiter.  I've done that before."
     I don't know what I'd been thinking, but I was very surprised to think
that he might not be around when I got home that night.  I told him he
should stay with me until he got on his feet.  I was astonished to hear the
words coming out of my mouth.
     When I got up to shower I felt his eyes on my body.  I noticed that
the towel I'd worn the night before was missing.  I observed that it was
neatly hung up in the bathroom.  I wondered what, if anything, could have
happened after I'd fallen asleep.
     I showered while Ken was busy at the sink shaving a few stray hairs
from the groin area of his body in preparation for his photo shoot.  It was
almost like he was playing with himself and I had a hard time not watching
what he was doing to himself with the little razor.  He had one leg up on
the wash basin as he carefully handled his half erection, stretching it to
be sure there was no stray hairs.  Of course he was nude, and his eyes
often swept my body as he watched me shower via the mirror in front of him.
My God, what a sight.  I had to will myself to look away as the sensations
surged through my groin.
     When I finished in the shower, Ken showered, too.
     I remained naked while I shaved my face as Ken soaped himself up.  He
vigorously washed his cock and balls and they seemed fully hard again when
he'd finished.  It seemed that he was either a very free person, or that he
was putting on a show for my pleasure.

     We even made and ate some healthy bananas and oatmeal together in the
kitchen while still both bare ass naked.
     Ken got directions from the person he called in Venice, asked me where
to catch a Westbound bus, and wouldn't hear of me giving him a ride
anywhere.  I gave him the spare apartment key, he dressed in another pair
of very short (and dangerous) shorts and a tank top, pulled on some bulky
white socks and high top sneakers, thanked me profusely for my help, gave me
a little pat on my bare ass, smiled, thanked me again "for everything" and
took off.
     My mind was a sea of contradictory thoughts.  Ken clearly had fooled
around with at least one other guy by what he'd told Angie and me.  He
seemed very free and open.  I had been trying to hide my curiosities about
other guys, and now was face to face and bare ass to bare ass with one of
the most sensual males I'd ever seen.
     The apartment seemed very empty after Ken had gone.

     I laid back on the bed and jacked off with my wild new dreams to a
very quick explosion.  I snoozed for a while and woke up with barely enough
time to get dressed for work.
     Angie was sick, right on schedule, so I had the freedom to be on my
own that night with my thoughts.  It was a dull night, with only some
traumatic moments securing a murder scene for homicide near the end of my
shift.  I didn't spend any time harassing the prostitutes and hustlers.  I
figured that Angie's night off was their night off, too.
     I raced home at the end of my shift without stopping for my usual late
night snack.  As I came through the door I noticed that the lights were on
and that the apartment had been thoroughly, meticulously cleaned.  There
was, however, no sign of Ken until I went into the bedroom.  There he was,
sleeping bare ass naked on his back on the freshly made bed... one knee
cocked to the side and his huge prong fully erect and kissing his navel.  I
just stopped and stared for a moment.  His breath was very steady and he
seemed dead asleep.
     I stripped and showered.  When I finished I saw that he'd awakened and
was laying on the bed watching me.  I'd worked myself up into almost a full
hard on when I was toweling myself dry and daringly walked into the bedroom
without waiting for it to soften.  "How'd it go?", I asked.  He smiled.
"Four-fifty, and more in a week."  Ken was up on one shoulder with a hand
absently fondling his still hard cock.  "In fact, I got enough to buy a
late dinner for a very handsome and really nice cop I met last night."
     We both dressed in shorts and tank tops for the warm night.  I drove
to another suburb out in the valley (where I'd be less likely seen) to eat
at a famous all night deli.  It was great fun!  The place was noisy and
crowded.  We ate, talked, joked, and generally continued to hit it off
really well.  I was surprised to see how many other customers, both male
and female, eyed both of us.  Ken mentioned my sore back again when I
winced once.  I told him I'd just pulled a muscle working out a few weeks
before, and he said I was going to get another massage.  "Ah, Kenny, you
don't need to do that."  He said he wanted to and wouldn't hear of "no."
     So... when we were back in the apartment I stripped naked as directed
and laid out across the sheets on my stomach.  Ken got out a towel and his
bottle of lotion, and then stripped also.  He kneeled beside me and began
working on my back.  After a while, as he expertly kneaded my muscles, he
got on top of me, straddling my legs.  His fingers felt expert.  From time
to time I felt his cock and balls touch my legs and ass as he worked.
     Then he knelt beside me and worked over my legs...  first one, then
the other, deeply massaging me from toes to ass cheeks.  He spread my legs
and worked over each one, moving to straddle my calves while massaging the
backs of my thighs and my ass cheeks.  I regularly sensed his balls
touching and slipping over my hot skin where he knelt.  It was a wild
sensation!
     He worked the lotion deeply in to my naked flesh, even rubbing it down
my ass crack and lightly over my sensitive anus with his fingers.  I had a
roaring hardon from the erotic massaging as Ken's fingers continued
sweeping over my back, ass, and thighs.
     "Okay, officer... roll over."  He had to say it twice, and even then I
hesitated.  I tried to quickly will my erection down but with no luck.  I
rolled over as Ken watched.
     Again he straddled me.  I glanced down a moment and saw that he too
was fully hard.  He wasn't trying to hide it, either!  His hands worked
over my neck and chest...  then down my arms, and slowly over my stomach.
He moved to kneel beside me and began working over my legs.  Again... from
toes to upper thighs, he slowly massaged the lotion deeply into my skin.
He brushed against my hardness from time to time, causing electrical shocks
to course through my body.  Then, he straddled my stomach facing my feet
and began running his hands down both of my legs.
     His back was to me now.  I looked down and saw his beautiful ass, his
hole, and his dangling balls as he worked.  His cock was almost tip to tip
with mine, and occasionally they touched.  He picked up each leg and
lovingly massaged it, causing our cocks to brush lightly against each other
a few times more.  To my mind, there was no way the scene could have gotten
more erotic.
     Finally, he moved to the side, spread my legs, and knelt between them
facing me.  "Just say stop, anytime you want, Denny."  His voice was husky
and just above a whisper.  Our eyes met and he smiled very tenderly.  His
hands were covered with more oil and he again massaged my chest, slowly
working his hands down over my sides and my stomach.
     He massaged up and down my thighs, lightly brushing my hard cockstem
with the sides of his fingers.  His fingers then moved between my spread
thighs and worked under my balls, brushing the tender nuggets and lightly
touching some of my most erotic zones.
     I involuntarily writhed in ecstasy.
     With more oil, Ken now began to more freely brush against my balls,
running a finger over the back of my cockstem.  I put my hands on his
thighs as if to brace myself as my body involuntarily writhed with his
touch.  He began to actually run his oily hands over my pulsing pole,
slipping a finger lightly over the ridge behind my cockhead.
     My torso was writhing and my cock was pulsing with euphoria.  I could
have no more said "stop" than I could have flown to the moon.
     Kenny slowly caressed my hardness, running his fingers over my tender
nuggets and then below, fingering my sensitive asshole, and then running
one hand over my chest and delicate nipples while the other hand started a
prolonged fondling of my pulsating pole.
     I could handle no more.  My body bridged, I moaned, and as Kenny began
to jack my fiery prong my cock started to frantically throb and I started
to shoot volumes of cum over my chest, face, stomach, the headboard, and
his hands.  Volley after volley of my cum flooded the area and it took many
seconds before I was able to settle myself back on the bed.
     Ken just knelt between my legs and watched me.  "God, Denny... that
was beautiful," he whispered.  His hands spread the copious cum around on
my chest, and then he bent over and kissed... then licked my still
palpitating poker, finally taking the whole damp cockhead into his mouth
for a long minute.
     Kenny used the towel to wipe off the drying cum, and then he laid down
on top of me... cock to cock, his face just above mine.  He looked at me a
second and then he kissed my cheek.  Before a moment had passed we were in
a deep embrace, my hands around his muscular body, our lips locked together
in a passionate kiss, our two hard organs pressed tightly against each
other.
     We quickly moved from kissing cheeks to mouth to mouth activities.
I'd kissed a few girls on a number of occasions and hadn't thought kissing
was any big deal.  God, how wrong can you get?  Kenny's mouth was hot and
moist.  Our lips met freely for many minutes, and then his tongue began to
lightly probe my mouth.
     As we kissed he slowly began grinding his body against mine.  My cock
had never lost its hardness and Kenny's was just as firm.  The two swollen
swords rubbed against each other in most erotic ways.  I realized that my
hands had been gripping his tight buns, pulling him tighter against me as
our bodies moved.  I also realized that my mouth was at least as aggressive
as his was in promoting our deep kissing activities.
     He rocked back and forth as he lay spread across my body, our hot,
moist skin touching from neck to toes, and our stiff prongs slipping up and
down against each other.  I sensed by the sounds of his breathing against
my ear and the contractions of his muscles that he was nearing an orgasm.
My own body was totally electrified.  Moments later Ken began kissing my
mouth more fervently and his body movements became more violent.  Then, as
if he had a seizure, his whole body froze.  A moment later I felt his cock
wildly throb against mine, and then hot fluids flooded over my stomach.
     The experience was far too much for me to handle.  Almost instantly,
following his eruption, as our mouths were locked in deeply searching each
other, my second explosion of the night doubled the fluids between us.
     We slept in each other's arms.  We showered together, ate together,
loved together, worked out and tanned on the little balcony together, and
then Ken found work body modeling and waitering while I spent eight hours
with old Angie in the beat up squad car.
     Kenny and I have been lovers for almost two years, now. Angie is out
of the picture, due to a secretive reassignment, and I have a new rookie
male partner who always seems to be watching me like a hawk... especially
eyeing my body when he doesn't think I'm looking.  I pay no attention to
him and still play the straight role on the force, because... at
home... every desire I've ever had or even dreamed of is being totally
satisfied.

                                 -0-

NOTE: This story is from a series we call, "First Encounters of a Close
Kind."  If you like it, let me know.  Drop an E-mail to b4@earthlink.net.
I read each E-mail personally.  Many more stories are ready and available.
--- Bill Fore