Date: Wed, 26 Mar 2014 21:54:04 -0400
From: Jake Preston <jemtling@gmail.com>
Subject: Psychic Detective 25

Psychic Detective 25
By: Jake Preston

This is a work of erotic gay fiction, intended for readers who enjoy a
murder mystery in which fully developed characters interact sexually and in
other ways. Their sexual encounters are sometimes romantic, sometimes
recreational, sometimes spiritual, and almost always described explicitly.
My attention is equally divided between narrative, character development,
and sex scenes. If you don't care for this combination, there are many
other excellent "nifty" stories to choose from. And remember that while
nifty stories are free, maintaining a website is not. Please think about
donating at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Writing is usually a solitary avocation, but not necessarily so on
nifty.org, where a longer story appears in installments. If my characters
and my story grab your attention, you can always intervene with suggestions
for improvements. All sincere comments will get a response!

Jake, at jemtling@gmail.com



       *  *  *  *  *  *


Chapter 25
Adventure at Blue Mounds



	Jack's and Calvin's journey to Lakota was not without incident. In
Rock County- the southwestern corner of Minnesota- they exited Highway 90
to visit Blue Mounds State Park.  "It's one of the best places in the
country to see buffalo," Jack said. In the distance they saw a massive blue
rock formation. A sign on the road said 'SIOUX CLIFF' with a directional
arrow, and below in smaller letters, "Precambrian Quartzite Formation."
They could see Sioux Cliff from a distance, a massive formation of blue
rock. The road circled north, away from the cliff.  They had to walk south
on a trail to reach it. As they got closer, the cliff's coloration
alternated between blue and pink. When they reached their destination, the
quartzite was unmistakably pink.

	"What's simultaneously blue and pink?" Calvin asked.

	"I give up, what?"

	"A Sioux!- blue in public and privately pink," Calvin said,
playfully, and added, "Lucky for me."

 	"Maybe we're both lucky," Jack said.

	They held hands atop Sioux Cliff, gazing down on a herd of buffalo
a hundred feet below, feeding in a grassy plain powdered with the bright
yellow flowers of prickly-pear cacti.  "Cactuses, cacti, I think the
correct form is cacti," Jack said.

	Grass and cacti grew at the top of the cliff, too. Calvin picked a
yellow flower and tucked it behind Jack's right ear. It wasn't a flamboyant
display of affection, but anyone watching them would have assumed they were
boyfriends.

	"Someone's watching us," Jack said.

	"Where?"

	"To the east," Jack pointed. "You can see a glint of light off his
field glasses."



	* * * * * *


	Jack asked Calvin to drive. They left Blue Mounds and went north on
a country road, the opposite direction from Highway 90, until they came to
a tiny village called Auburn. A Shell station, a Baptist church and
cemetery, five or six houses, a one-room schoolhouse, a general store, and
a restaurant that doubled as a saloon- that's all there was to the
village. While they filled up the gas tank at Shell, Jack said quietly,
"We're being followed."

	"How do you know? I didn't see anyone," Calvin said.

	"It's a hunch. Maybe I'm wrong," Jack said.

	Calvin parked parallel by the restaurant, where they ordered
cheeseburgers and shakes.  Jack was accustomed to being treated well when
he visited restaurants in uniform. In this one, the middle-aged woman, who
doubled as waitress and cook, was distinctly unfriendly. She kept looking
out the window at the road. Maybe she's distracted because she's waiting
for someone, Jack thought to himself.

	"I think we should get back to the Interstate," Calvin said.

	They stepped outside the restaurant. A police cruiser was parked
next to their car. A cop in his thirties got out and approached
them. "South Dakota, eh?" he said, inspecting Jack's ID.  "Who's this,
then?- Calvin Cohn, Duluth. Well, Mr. Cohn, I'm sorry to say you're under
arrest."

	"What do you mean, under arrest? What's the charge?" Jack asked,
astonished.

	"Vandalizing state property, and impersonating a law enforcement
officer," the cop said.

	"You must have us mistaken for someone else," Jack protested.

	"No mistake. I've been following you since Blue Mounds," the cop
replied.

	"This is ridiculous!" Jack exclaimed.

	"Ridiculous? Mr. Cohn vandalized a prickly-pear cactus in the state
park," the cop said, "and he drove an official Sheriff's car, thereby
giving the false impression that he was a law enforcement officer from
Lakota County. I'm sure I'll have more charges after I've finished
searching your car."

	"My car is off limits," Jack said. "You don't have probable
cause. I'm on official business in a Lakota County car. I've got
confidential files and evidence that pertain to a felony murder. If you
enter that car, you'll be compromising the custody of evidence, and I'll be
filing a complaint to the Minnesota Attorney General."

	The cop backed off, but despite Jack's protestations, he insisted
that Calvin would have to appear before the Justice of Peace. "Fortunately,
he's in the General Store, so we can take care of business right away," he
said. Jack and Calvin followed the cop to the General Store.

	A radio played country music. The proprietor and JP, Hugo Black,
was taking inventory and singing "Mean Eyed Cat" along with Johnnie Cash-
"I get my woman and my money from the general store...." He was a stout
stud in his fifties, with unruly brown hair and wicked green eyes. He
feigned disinterest in his visitors. "Courtroom's in the back of the
store," he said, pointing without looking. "I'll be there in a few
minutes." The cop conferred with Hugo Black while Jack and Calvin waited in
the makeshift courtroom.

	"Magistrate's court is in session," Hugo Black said pompously when
he entered the room. He read the cop's police report about Calvin picking a
yellow flower and driving the Sheriff's car under pretense of being a law
enforcement officer. "How do you plead, Mr. Cohn?"

	"These aren't violations," Jack protested.

	"They are, in our little town," the JP said. "I'm entering a plea
of 'Guilty' on Mr. Cohn's behalf. The fine is $500 for vandalism, and $2500
for impersonating an officer. You can pay the $3000 now, or I can hold
Mr. Cohn in our little jail cell until the fine is paid."

	"This is a shake-down. Even if we were willing to pay this fine
based on trumped-up charges, we don't have $3000," Jack said. "We don't
even have $300 between us."

	"That's too bad," Hugo Black said. He looked Jack over, appraising
his athletic figure and the promising bulge in his trousers. "Look, boys,
I've got a proposition. You can work off the fine tonight and be on your
way in the morning. I know you guys are lovers, but we'll keep that
confidential. . It's not something you want your county commissioners to
find out about from a magistrate. All you have to do is share the goods."

	"You're harassing and exploiting a prisoner," Jack said.

	"Not at all," Black said. "I'm not asking Mr. Cohn to do
anything. I'm merely offering you the opportunity to work off the fine on
his behalf. The minute you agree, Mr. Cohn will be free to go and the
judgment against him will be quashed." He gave Jack an evil smile. "It's a
good deal. You might even like it, and your secret will be safe with me."

	This time it was Calvin who protested, but Jack said, "Enough, CC,
I'll take the deal."

	Hugo Black led Calvin outside the General Store, and locked the
front door. He hung up a CLOSED sign, and led Jack up the stairs to his
second-floor apartment. "We'll start with a shower, so get yourself
naked. I'll be back in a few minutes," he said. From the top of the stairs,
Jack overheard him on the phone. It sounded like he was inviting another
man over.



	* * * * * *



	When Calvin got out the front door, the cop was waiting for
him. "So the JP let you off," he said. "Look, you've got a long wait, and
you need a place to spend the night. You can hang out with me, if you're
willing."

	"What I gotta do?" Calvin asked.

	"Nothing you haven't done before," the cop said.  "My house is the
ranch-style two miles up the road. You passed by it on the way here. You
can come with me, or you can stay put for the night. As far as I'm
concerned, you're a free man. You can do what you want."

	Calvin noticed that the cop, a tall beefy guy in his thirties,
wasn't bad looking. He had carrot-red hair, soft blue eyes, and a pair of
pronounced dimples on his cheeks. His trousers were too tight around the
ass, but most of his weight appeared to be muscle. Maybe it wouldn't be so
bad, he thought. He got into the cruiser. When they got to his home, the
cop turned friendly. He introduced himself as Randolph O'Brian, "but you
can call me Randy the Riveter," he laughed.

	"My friends call me CC," Calvin said. "I guess we're gonna be
friends."

	"That's the spirit, CC! Can I buy you a beer?"

	"Beer would be great," Calvin replied, "unless you've got something
stronger."

	"We're in the middle of a vast prairie. Of course I've got
something stronger," Randy said. He led CC to a small corner bar in the
dining room, where he had a dozen different forms of alcohol. "Maybe Jack
Daniels, I think. Just the thing when you've had a rough day. Let's skip
the glasses. We can just pass the bottle back and forth."

	"Sure, we might as well," Calvin agreed. "Since we're gonna be
exchanging liquids, we might as well start with the bourbon."

	"I like the way your mind works, CC, you Vandal of Cactuses and
Impersonator of Sheriffs," Randy laughed. "Is a game of strip poker
possible?" He held up a deck of cards.

	"Uh, oh, I'm afraid I never learned how to play poker," Calvin
said. "I was raised in a strict religious home. The rabbi permitted cards,
but my father didn't."

	"In that case, I'll further your education," Randy said. "We'll
play a few hands until you get the hang of it. Then we'll play for real."

	Randy taught Calvin how to play Heads-Up Poker. "Usually a beginner
would learn 'Five-Card Draw, but Heads-Up is better when there are only two
players," he said. After an hour of instruction and practice, Calvin won a
few hands and said he was ready to play for real.

	"Good man!" Randy said. "You're a good sport, CC."



	* * * * * *



	Hugo returned to his apartment. In the living room, Jack stood up
to greet him, wrapped in a bath towel. "I thought I told you to get
nekked," Hugo growled.

	"Take it off yourself," Jack retorted. "I won't stop you."

	Hugo groped the frontal lump in the towel. "Hmmm, very promising
basket," he said. He moved behind Jack and ran his hand over the material
that covered his butt. "I could get next to this," he muttered. He slipped
his right hand under the towel and felt up the naked flesh of buns.  Jack
stood defiantly motionless. He didn't flinch when Hugo poked his butthole
with a finger.

	Hugo was a top's top, but as a short stocky stud in a tiny town on
the prairie, he didn't get many opportunities. Jack saw the signs. He knew
that Hugo took him for a top, and he was, in a way, for it was only after
meeting Calvin that he willed himself into becoming a bottom. 'Seeing as
how I'm gonna get fucked anyway, why not let Hugo enjoy his fantasy?' Jack
reasoned. He knew how to be a reluctantly submissive hunk.

	Hugo stood facing Jack and slipped a hand between his legs. His
finger poked Jack's butthole again. Jack winced and frowned, but didn't
resist. "You're gonna give me everything, boy," Hugo said evenly. He poked
Jack's butthole again and got a wince and a groan. Hugo smiled approvingly
at Jack's reaction. "Everything," he repeated, and poked Jack again. Jack
stood stoic, like a saintly Sebastian.

	Hugo pulled the towel off of Jack and whipped it in the air to a
loud snap. He whipped it against Jack's butt a couple times. Jack didn't
flinch. He examined Jack's body, head to toe, and fingered each cranny and
protrusion. He frotted Jack's cleft. Jack's cock grew erect and
throbbed. "Oh-ho!" Hugo exclaimed, gleefully. "The tough guy's got a soft
spot after all, and it's in his butt." Jack stood passive and stoic. "Me
cowboy, you bronco," Hugo said. Jack cracked a smile. He fondled Jack's
balls and stroked his turgid cock. Jack kept his countenance stoic, but
swayed his hips. Hugo sat on the sofa to watch the show. Knowing that Hugo
wanted a stud, Jack's go-go gyrations showcased his groin, but his erotic
musicless dance was not without ass- action. Jack ended his routine by
mooning his butt. Hugo gave it a couple loud swats. "You've been a naughty
boy, Jack. You're gonna get spanked and spunked, but first let's hit the
shower."

	In the narrow confines of the bathroom, Jack helped Hugo out of his
clothes. From his shorts there emerged an accordion-surprise. Hugo's dick
was just above average, seven inches erect, but it was the most voluminous,
thickest cock he had ever seen or imagined. "My friends call me Blatz,"
Hugo said when Jack fondled it.

	"Beer-can Blatz!" Jack exclaimed. "I think I'm gonna like this." He
offered Hugo a kiss on the lips.

	"I was hoping you'd get into this, Jack," Hugo said between kisses.

	"I'm getting there, Blatz," Jack said.

	"Time for viagra, then," Hugo said. They popped little blue pills
and stepped into the shower. Soaping each other was anatomical exploration
and foreplay. Jack must have had the squeakiest-clean ass in
history. "You've got a really nice dick, Jack, intact and all, but I'm into
butts, and yours is the sexiest," Hugo said. He gave Jack's butt a couple
loud open-handed swats.  Jack fondled Hugo's exceptionally generous
foreskin. They took turns docking each other.

	In the bedroom, foreplay took the form of spanking and oral
endearments. Hugo swatted Jack's bottom, harder and different each time,
and Jack reciprocated by kissing and tonguing Hugo's crannies and
protrusions. The foreplay ended with Jack rimming Hugo. Huge flipped Jack
on his front, flattened his back, swatted his butt, and drove his beer-can
breeding-tube into Jack's bunghole.

	"Bugger!" Jack exclaimed between groans, "bugger!"-in protest and
command simultaneously, telling Blatz to do what he was already doing.



	* * * * * *


	The first author to narrate a sequence of moves in a card game was
Alexander Pope, in The Rape of the Lock (1712), which was expanded in 1714
to include, among other details, the sequence of cards laid down by
golden-haired Belinda against her opponents in a game of ombre at an
elegant party in Hampton Court. In a post-heroic, post-chivalric age, ombre
was the closest an English aristocrat could get to fighting in battle, the
'battle of the cards' being an Augustan reprise of multiple duels in
Homer's Iliad. Not to exclude acts of derring-do from Hampton Court
altogether, a lascivious Baron- an unsuccessful suitor- attenuated
Belinda's glory by cutting a lock of her hair with a scissors, during the
moment of her victory-celebration.  Complaints and quarrels ensued. Belinda
threatened the Baron with her bodkin- a wicked hairpin. The comic double
sense of 'bodkin'- a short javelin and a hairpin- is lost on modern
readers. Notwithstanding a search, Belinda's golden lock was never
found. According to the Poet, that's because it flew to the sky where it
twinkles as a star, but I think the search wasn't thorough enough. Had they
separated the villain from his trousers and rifled his linens, they would
have found it nestled behind his scrotum.

	Belinda was the name of one of three moons of Uranus that were
known in 1714. The others were Umbriel and Ariel, who also appear as
characters in The Rape of the Lock. The Uranian allusion is telling: 'the
game of cards' was an idea with a future, in gay fictional episodes of
strip poker. A classic from the 60s was "Seven in a Barn"- made into a
movie in 1969- in which a straight-acting football star named John loses
the game and serves as a sex- slave while the winner won the right to poke
his ass. John's cherry-like Belinda's golden lock- was gone forever, but
John couldn't complain, for the game was fair and square. In gay fiction
ever since Seven in a Barn, many a guy has sacrificed his cherry in a game
of strip poker.

	And why not? Calvin was no virgin, but he identified as a top and
didn't like getting fucked. "So much the better," Randy said. "I like
fucking tops. Even more than that, I like fucking tops who don't like
taking it up the ass. But I'll give you a fighting chance, CC. In our game
of Heads-Up Poker, the loser takes off an article of clothing at the end of
each hand. When one of us gets naked, we keep playing until he loses again
and has no more clothing to concede.  Once a guy gets naked in strip poker,
all he's got left to lose is his ass. How will that be?"

	On to Heads-Up Poker, then: Calvin held his own in the game. Hand
for hand, Randy and Calvin shed shirt for shirt, belt for belt, shoe for
shoe, sock for sock, jeans for jeans. It would be scurvy of me to suggest
that to keep the game even, Randy threw a hand or two. After Calvin lost
the antepenultimate hand and got naked, Randy lost the penultimate hand and
got naked too, not by throwing the game, but by his inattention to it- he
couldn't keep his eyes off Calvin's erect circumcised cock. He hadn't seen
many of those.

	Down to the wire on the last hand, Calvin was dealt four face-cards
while Randy had three. But Calvin was a novice at poker. Randy took
advantage by claiming a hand that Calvin had won. In a word, Randy
cheated. "You played a good game, CC, but you just lost your ass," Randy
said, smiling wickedly, and swept up the cards in one hand. He led Calvin
to the bedroom. Calvin breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a stack of
condoms beside the lube-tube on the dresser.

	All the while when they embraced and fondled and sucked cock, Randy
fingered Calvin's cleft and his hole. He noticed that Calvin responded when
he wriggled a fingertip at the rim of his hole. He concentrated on
that. Still, Calvin was skittish. "You really are almost virginal, aren't
you, CC?" Randy said. He offered Calvin a vibrator. Calvin groaned when
Randy pushed it inside him, but he got used to it. "Tighten your sphincter
around the vibrator, CC," Randy said.  He did.

	"I don't feel much," Calvin said.

	"That's because I haven't turned the vibrator on yet," Randy said.



	* * * * * *



	With the tenderness of an empathetic lover who had just screwed his
boyfriend with too much cruelty, Hugo used a soft red hankie to wipe
santorum around Jack's battered portal. Hugs and kisses made amends for the
beer-can breach of his butt. Jack still panted with lust, but Hugo told him
to wait, as they were expecting a visitor.

	"The guy you telephoned earlier?"

	As they were speaking, an almost bald wiry man in his fifties, with
sharp facial features and piercing dark eyes, unlocked the door with his
key and entered the apartment. Hugo donned his jockey-shorts and greeted
him in the living room. Jack followed, in shorts. Hugo introduced the
stranger as Tim Donner.

	Jack didn't want to way or think what was obvious, that Donner had
come as an invited guest to a three-way fuck-fest in which he was the
designated catcher. Jack's first impulse was to decline the honor, but
Blatz had been a blast that left him unsatisfied, so he went along with the
threesome- reserving the right to opt out if the sex got unpleasant. Tim
Donner carried a small gym bag. Jack wondered what was in it.

	Hugo took prurient delight in pimping Jack. He explained that
Donner owned the building- not the General Store itself, but the building
it was in-and the rent was $500 a month. "Donner will credit me for this
month's rent in exchange for your ass, Jack," Hugo said, "so you see,
you're working off more than the $3000 fine."

	Running his hands over Jack's body, Donner marveled at his
athleticism. "This one's a great specimen, Blatz," he said. "You've outdone
yourself this time. Are you sure you've got him trained?"

	"I just fucked the shit out of him and got no complaints," Hugo
said.

	Donner stood behind Jack and lowered his shorts. An inaudible sign
got a smile from Jack. He parted his legs and arched. Donner explored the
best ass he'd ever seen. "You're already pretty well lubed," he said,
speaking directly to Jack for the first time. He dug into his gym bag for a
leather collar and fastened it around Jack's neck. Then he dug out a leash
and fastened it to the collar. He led Jack by the leash to the bathroom,
where they soaped each other in the shower. Jack found himself warming up
to Donner, and to the game they were playing.  Maybe that was because he
was still horny from his session with Blatz.

	In the bedroom, Donner pinched Jack's nips. Jack and Donner knelt
facing each other.  Out of his gym bag came a pair of nip-clamps on a
pull-chain. "Are you ready for this?" Donner asked, but it wasn't a
question. He fondled Jack's cock.

	"I'll be ready as I'll ever be," Jack said.

	"From now on you must address me as Sir or Master," Donner said.

	"Yes Sir, Master, Sir," Jack said, getting his mind into the
game. Donner clamped his nips, and pulled the chain and the dog-leash
simultaneously. Then he let go the leash. With one hand he finger-fucked
Jack's butt, and pulled at the nip-chain with the other. Donner slipped his
hand between Jack's legs and inserted a finger.

      "Give it a squeeze," Donner said.

      "Sir, yes Sir," Jack said, and squeezed. Jack got the message. Each
time Donner pulled the nip-chain, Jack gave his finger a squeeze.

      Tim had no trouble maintaining an erection, but when he was
circumcised as an infant, a mistake in the surgical procedure made it
impossible to climax in a normal way, not even with the aid of viagra or
Cialis. "I need extra stimulation to get off," Donner said. "That's why the
sex toys, but it works for me only if you're getting pleasure, too."

      "I'll give it a try," Jack said, and corrected himself: "I'll give it
a try, Master."

      "You must do more than try, Jack. You must succeed," Donner said. Out
of his gym bag came a string of anal beads. "I call these my Black Pearls."
Jack doggie-styled and arched. For Donner, it was Jack's best profile. He
was into male butts, and stuffed black pearls into Jack, one at a
time. Jack felt a dull fullness. He flipped Jack on his back, ass-perched
at the end of the bed, and stood over him, between his legs. He pulled the
beads out, one by one, while Jack jacked himself. "Well-jacked, Jack," he
said when swaths of jism splotched Jack's abdomen. Suddenly he plowed into
Jack, and humped until he spooged. Hugo took Donner's place, and gave him
another dose of Blatz with his fleshy beer-can.

      "I've had enough," Jack said. "Can we get some sleep now?" Donner
made his exit.  Hugo went downstairs to resume his inventory in the store,
and let Jack sleep.



	* * * * * *



      The vibrator had its desired effect on Calvin. He lay on his back,
and moaned when Randy turned it on. Calvin writhed around vibrations until
Randy substituted cock and missioned him. Calvin didn't resist when Randy
flipped him and flattened his back. He fucked Calvin from behind.

      Next morning at the restaurant, Jack, Calvin, Hugo, and Randy met for
breakfast. This time the waitress was friendly. The foursome laughed about
adventures of the preceding day, and swapped stories about the nocturnal
games that followed. "We wouldn't have tried it, if I hadn't already seen
that you guys are lovers," Randy said. "It's not my place to criticize, but
maybe you guys should be more careful."

      "If we'd been more careful, you guys would never have met us," Calvin
said.

      Jack invited them to visit Lakota sometime. "Who knows?- Maybe I'll
show you the inside of MY jail!" he quipped.