Date: Wed, 5 Oct 2016 09:45:28 -0600
From: Colton <coltonaalto@gmail.com>
Subject: Spring Break Happens in Vegas - chapter 22 - the end

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SPRING BREAK HAPPENS IN VEGAS

By Colton Aalto

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – ... STAYS IN VEGAS; EPILOGUE

An hour after getting fucked by Caio and inadvertently begging two cops to
do me, too, I was sitting in a stark office in juvenile detention. The cops
initially hauled me to the main jail for booking, assuming that I was 21
because I was busted in a gay bar where I was supposed to be 21. When they
discovered I was only 17, it gave them another reason to arrest me –
being underage in a bar – but they had to shuttle me to the juvenile
detention facility, which was a couple of miles away.

The timing of my entrance at the juvenile facility couldn't have been
worse. I was still handcuffed and accompanied by two beefy policemen when
we were stopped just inside the building to let the juvenile residents
troop in from the exercise yard. The handcuffs I was wearing made it was
apparent I was a new resident-to-be, and I attracted plenty of unwanted
attention and snide comments. It started with catcalls and whistles and
went down from there.

Several rough looking dudes stopped long enough to sneer into my face and
explain in graphic detail exactly how I would be servicing their cocks
later that night. I got a quick and thorough introduction into what a jail
sissy and a prison wife were, and I was apparently a lock to star in both
roles. The two policemen accompanying me had smirks on their faces,
suggesting they weren't going to rush to my defense.

Some of the dudes in detention looked far too old to be juveniles, and
several of them were big and muscular enough to twist me into a pretzel.
Jail was going to suck. I would be thrown to the hungry pack of wolves I
had just witnessed traipsing in from the yard.

My life was over. The cops had me for a series of miscues, any one of which
would get me disowned by my parents and likely by my uncle, aunt and twin
half-brothers as well. Being in a bar, underage. Underage drinking and
illegal drug use; a test at the main jail before I was transported showed I
had alcohol and marijuana in my system, two more counts against me. Okay,
while my parents would be scandalized about all of that, my uncle, aunt and
brothers' reaction would likely be more along the lines that I was an idiot
for getting caught.

But my other mistakes were much more worrisome. Being stark naked in a
public place. Propositioning a cop. Make that two cops. I had no doubt that
the police detectives would interview some of the bar patrons and uncover
the two dudes who had witnessed me engaging in sex in public, too.

Caio was a wild card. He could keep his mouth shut about everything, but if
the cops targeted him, I had no doubt that he would give them an earful if
it helped him avoid charges. Hell, he might embellish his story and claim I
sold him marijuana or was guilty of prostitution. I had to hope that Caio
wouldn't spill the beans about how I also was committing incest by having
sex with my twin brothers. It was one thing to fuck my own life up, but I
didn't want to get my brothers in trouble.

I had managed to accomplish an impressive array of criminal activity on the
day I was supposed to meet my birth father. I could envision my uncle
apologizing for my absence and saying, `Unfortunately your son is in jail
on morals charges. He was arrested for drugs and intoxication, public
nudity, sex in public and propositioning two police officers." Great way to
be introduced to my birth father.

I had a sudden flashback to the dream I had on Lake Mead my first night in
Vegas: my father, with a self-satisfied smirk, saying, "I told you God was
going to punish you!" I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

I was escorted into a small, nondescript office. The cops who transported
me took my cuffs off and waited for a detention officer before giving him
my file and taking off.

The detention officer gave me a skeptical look and asked, "So, what do you
have to say for yourself, son?" The officer was leaning against a big
wooden desk while I sat in a chair in front of the desk. He towered over
me, probably being 6'4" or 6'5". He sported a shaved head and a light
salt-and-pepper beard. I figured him for 30-something. Fuck, he looked
awesome. Admittedly I thought any guy in a uniform looked hot, but this man
was built and was amazing in his uniform. His nametag said, "Montagna."

There was no point in denying anything. "Um, I shouldn't have done what I
did," I said, staring up at the officer.

Officer Montagna chuckled and said, "I'll say. At least the next time you
proposition a police officer, son, proposition one who likes fucking twinks
rather than propositioning a straight, middle-aged guy. Not one but two."
He raised an eyebrow slightly and, if I wasn't mistaken, gave me a faint
smile.

Montagna's comment gave me a wild idea. I wasn't going down without a
fight. I couldn't let my father think he had won. "Is there any chance that
you can, you know, just dismiss the charges?" I asked. "I mean, I don't
have a record or anything, and I'm supposed to leave town tomorrow. My
parents will kill me if they find out."

Montagna looked at me with a somewhat bemused smile. "Kid, everyone in this
place can say the same thing about their parents. If they have parents. You
really mean that you want me to pretend none of this happened?" he asked
skeptically.

Exactly. I couldn't have said it better. Hopeful, I replied, "Uh, yeah, I
guess."

But Montagna had his arms folded across his chest and his body language
wasn't giving me any reason for optimism. I began to fear he would shake
his head and chuckle at what an idiot I was to even suggest such a thing.

However, when it came, the officer's reply was ambiguous. "Sometimes we
dismiss charges, son, but it's not that simple. It has to be under the
right circumstances."

I saw a glimmer of hope. Perhaps my case could fit into the right
circumstances. If I was completely out of luck, Officer Montagna wouldn't
have raised the possibility. So there was a chance, even if it was a tiny
one.

Montagna gave me a sharp stare and added, "And it requires a boy with the
right attitude and willingness to show appreciation."

Wow. Had Montagna given me a hint that if I showed enough appreciation I
might escape my fate?

I was in Vegas, and I was going to gamble. If my gamble failed, I wouldn't
be in a worse position than I was already. I had nothing to lose. As it
stood, I would be spending my night in juvenile detention with the thugs I
had seen coming earlier competing to see who could make me squeal the
loudest in my new role as a jail sissy. My unknown birth father would be
happy he never met me. My gloating adoptive father would kick me out, if I
was lucky, but probably would lock me up and throw away the key. My uncle
and brothers would scratch their heads and feel fortunate that I was
exposed as a psycho before they got further involved with me. I had one
slim chance to turn things around.

I summoned my best `go for what you want' resolve, took a deep breath and
reached for Montagna's crotch mumbling, "Maybe I can show some appreciation
and help influence the circumstances."

Time seemed to stop as my hand touched the bulge in Montagna's trousers. I
expected him to shove my hand away, yell that I was a pervert who didn't
learn from my mistakes, and lock me in a windowless jail cell. But he
didn't. Instead the tiniest smile crossed his lips.

Emboldened, I went to work. My hands, shaking, fumbled with the zipper on
Montagna's trousers. I was met with a pair of tight white briefs. I pulled
Montagna's trousers and briefs down to reveal a pair of muscular, hairy
legs and a nice-sized cock slumbering in a bed of dark pubes. I was on
Montagna's cut dick and balls in seconds, licking them and coaxing
Montagna's fuck pole to stiffen.

Montagna kicked off his shoes, trousers and underwear and pulled me to my
feet. He lifted my T-Shirt over my head as I quickly unbuttoned his
shirt. The officer had a damn nice chest, covered by a spray of dark
hair. He drew me into a deep kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth as his
hands slipped my shorts over my hips and began to knead my bare ass cheeks.

Montagna was an ass man. Good. If I had a pathway out of jail, it ran
through my asshole. Using it was my best chance.

I wrapped my hand around Montagna's cock and began to pump it, feeling it
get rock hard. Montagna moaned slightly as we continued to kiss. I couldn't
help but run one hand through the light hair on the officer's chest,
stopping to twist his tit. His right nipple was pierced with a barbell, and
I worked it in a circular motion, eliciting a happy moan from the stud
clenching my ass cheeks.

It crossed my mind that maybe Montagna was going to fuck my ass and still
keep me locked up. But I could hardly turn back now, and, in truth, I
didn't want to. Even if that was what he planned to do, getting my hole
opened up before an army of juvenile delinquents used my ass for their
nightly enjoyment was probably smart. Not that Caio hadn't done a good job
of spreading my ass at the bar, but it could only help to stretch it again.

I dropped back to my knees and took Montagna's hard cock into my mouth,
gradually working it down my throat and then beginning to bob back and
forth, deep throating the officer. He let me work his cock instead of
grabbing my head and face fucking me, and I concentrated on giving the man
an awesome blow job. I needed to perform and perform well if there was any
shot at convincing Montagna to cut me loose.

I was concentrating so hard on sucking Montagna's cock that I was startled
when he pulled me to my feet, shoved some papers off his desk and bent me
over it. I pulled open my ass cheeks, expecting him to ram his cock into my
fuck chute, but instead I felt his smooth beard against my skin and his
mouth licking my hole. His tongue began to dart in and out of my ass. I
held my breath, figuring that Montagna had to be tasting the leftover lube
from Caio using my hole earlier in the day. For that matter, he was
probably about to get a big gob of Caio's cum, as well.

If Montagna noticed anything, he didn't let on. He ate my ass for a long
time before finally coming up for air and aiming his stiff cock at my
hole. Having been loosed up by Caio and relaxed by Montagna's rim job, I
took the policeman's cock with no trouble. Montagna was tentative at first,
but once he realized he was dealing with a slut twink who wasn't going to
complain, he wasted no time in going balls deep inside me. I clung to the
top of Montagna's desk and moaned as my boi pussy was filled with cop dick.

I was quickly discovering that I had a fondness for being fucked by a
mature man who let you know you're getting fucked the right way. Montagna's
big hands held my hips as he plunged into my hole, grinding his cock in my
butt and thrusting it into me like he was drilling me a new asshole. Gentle
he was not. He delivered a rough fuck that let me know I was there to serve
him however he wanted. I wasn't complaining. It was damn hot. There was
something about the tall, hairy cop bending over me and taking me like he
owned my ass that rang my bell.

Montagna dicked my boi pussy for at least 20 minutes before ramming his
cock into my butt with one final thrust and spewing a huge load of ball
juice deep in my hole. He was panting and sweating by the time he
finished. As soon as he pulled out, I rolled around and eagerly mouthed his
cock to clean it. He grabbed his semisoft tool and slapped it against my
face a couple of times. "You liked that, didn't you boy?" he asked.

"Yes, sir!" I replied. Montagna had to be blind not to see my stiff cock,
so there was hard evidence, so to speak, of the fact I had gotten off on
getting my ass plugged by a rigid police dick.

"I thought so," Montagna said. "Now get up and bend over that desk
again. And stay put. I want that ass exposed."

It wasn't what I anticipated, but I was going to do exactly what Officer
Montagna said. I heard him pull on his pants and then his voice on a
phone. "Joe, can a borrow you for, oh, say an hour? Maybe two. We have a
new case we need to resolve, and right now he's spread eagled on my desk."
I couldn't hear Joe's reply, but Montagna chuckled in response.

I waited in nervous anticipation for a few minutes, wondering what was
going to happen. I heard the door open and close and a soft whistle. "What
do we have here, Sal?" a voice said. I assumed the new voice belonged to
Joe, but his voice sounded exactly like Sal's – Montagna's. I felt a
rough hand on my bare ass cheek.

"Ah, mio fratello, he goes by Jen Woods and he's charged with a series of
morals offenses. Arrested in a gay bar – despite the fact that he's only
17. Not only was he underage, he was underdressed as well. Underdressed as
in completely naked. Under the influence of alcohol and marijuana. And,
best of all, he propositioned several uniformed police officers."

"Wow! Who?"

"Garrett and Anderson for starters."

"Jeez! He must be a desperate slut. You'd think he could do better than
that."

"He can. And he did. I was the third officer he propositioned, and I
scratched the boy's itch a little. I was thinking you might help him out,
too. Judging from how hard his cock was after I dicked him, I'd say he
liked it. Liked it a lot."

"What about it boy? You want another stiff cock in your boi pussy?"

I had no idea whether Joe or Sal had asked the question. The two men
sounded identical. But regardless of who was questioning me, I had a quick
answer. "Yes, sir!"

"So, do I understand correctly that you're asking me to fuck your ass?"

"Yes, sir. I'd like you to do that."

"Well, then, maybe I can help you out, son." I chanced a quick look behind
me and saw Joe dropping his pants.

I was expecting Joe to ram his cock into my ravaged boi pussy, but instead,
like Sal had done to me, I felt a soft beard and a hard tongue slip into my
asshole. I gasped, more from surprise, but Joe's tongue felt wonderful in
my ravaged hole. I moaned and instinctively pulled my ass crack apart,
giving the officer full access to my fuck chute.

Joe had to be tasting lube and cum, likely two types of both. But just like
Sal, he didn't mind it, and soon his tongue was flicking in and out of my
hole and driving me crazy. In no time Joe had me writhing on the desk and
hungering for a second dose of stiff cop cock in my hole.

Joe made one final plunge into my ass with his tongue, and his mouth was
replaced by a hard cock, probing the entrance to my hole.

"Don't worry about easing your cock inside our boy. I opened him up, but if
it hurt, he took it like a champ. Tight as hell once you're inside,
though. I think you're gonna like this little slut's fuck hole. Like it a
lot." The voice had to be Sal's, but I had no way to tell the two officers
apart based on their voices.

I had been holding my crack open for Joe's tongue, but I spread my cheeks
even farther. "Yeah, you're hot to trot, aren't you boy? You want my cock
inside your hole?"

"Yes, sir!" My only regret was not being able to see Joe as he dicked my
fuck tube. I do love guys in uniform.

Joe slipped his stiff cock inside my ass and he forced his way inside me
with a steady, powerful thrust until I could feel his pubes against my butt
cheeks. I moaned as Joe gasped, "Oh, fuck!"

"Told you," Sal chuckled. "This is an ass made to be fucked."

"Damn, you're fucking right, bro!"

Exactly like it had been with Sal, Joe let me know who was in charge and
why I was there. He was in charge and my role was to serve as a fuck hole
for his cock. He bent over me and I could feel the hair on his chest
against my bare back. Joe's hands grabbed my shoulders and I felt totally
in his control as he nuzzled my neck and drilled into my ass.

I worked my hole, desperately wanting Joe to like dicking it. Fuck, even if
Sal locked me up with the juvenile thugs and threw away the key, it was
worth propositioning him and getting double dicked by two officers who knew
how to fuck an ass and how to fuck it right.

Sal hadn't been gentle with my boi pussy and neither was Joe. It crossed my
mind that now I knew first-hand what it was like to be manhandled. Or maybe
cop mauled was more accurate, given how savagely Joe piston fucked my hole.

But... I liked it. I loved the sense of being controlled by Sal and Joe and
getting my ass rammed by two studs whose cocks had obviously been inside
plenty of dudes. I also loved servicing Jan and Jon's twin cocks. And I
would never turn down another round with Arlo's long dong, even though the
kid was my age or younger. Maybe I was obsessed with cock, obsessed with
getting my ass fucked, regardless of the age of the men using me.

Joe's fuck of my boi pussy took as long as Sal's had, and Joe might have
been rougher. I didn't complain in the least, instead moaning and begging
the officer to use me. His dick, ramming my defenseless hole like a
jackhammer, was breeding my ass and breeding it good.

All good things must come to an end. Joe seeded my boi pussy after a hot,
20-minute fuck. As soon as he pulled out, I instinctively turned around and
went down on him, carefully cleaning the officer's cock. It wasn't until
Joe slapped his semisoft fuck pole across my face a couple of times that I
realized Joe's body was the mirror image of Sal's.

The two officers had the same build, the same sized cock, the same spray of
dark hair on their chest, and the same smile. The only difference was that
Joe had a full head of wavy, dark hair while Sal's head was shaved. I was
struck by how much Joe looked like Joe Manganiello. Maybe it was because
they shared the same first name, but the resemblance was uncanny. I watched
Manganiello in True Blood on TV in secret, as my fundamentalist preacher
father considered it the work of the devil, but Joe Manganiello was hot by
any measure.

"What do you think, bro? Is his twink ass as good as advertised?" Sal
asked. Fuck. Sal and Joe had called each other `bro' twice. Maybe police
officers used the term all the time, but I didn't think so. Sal and Joe had
to be brothers. That would explain their eerie resemblance.

"Better," Joe said. He was still breathing heavily.

Sal had pulled on his pants but was still shirtless, and his abs and chest
looked identical to Joe's. Sal's shaved head made him look older than Joe,
but absent that difference, I couldn't distinguish the two men.

Joe slipped back into his pants and Sal and Joe sat down in two chairs,
staring at me. I was still sitting on the floor with my back to Sal's desk,
where I had been after washing Joe's cock, and, feeling awkward, I stayed
put. "So, what are we going to do with our little teenaged slut?" Sal
asked.

Joe shook his head. "Hard case, given the perp shows no remorse for his
behavior. I mean, after he propositioned Garrett and Anderson, he
propositioned you and then me. Hardly the conduct of a boy who has learned
his lesson." He raised an eyebrow and gave me a hard look.

I frowned over whether I had technically propositioned Joe. I mean, I told
him I wanted him to fuck me, but I hadn't exactly come on to him. Not that
I wouldn't have, because he was damn hot. I was probably splitting hairs,
because there was no doubt that I had propositioned the other three
officers. Two of them accidentally, but one on purpose.

"It won't go easy for him inside," Sal said. "He's too damn pretty for his
own good. Smooth twink body, but enough muscles to know you're not fucking
a kid. Bubble butt that won't stop. That hairless asshole; damn, it's gonna
be really popular. And the pretty face, blue eyes and the pouty,
fuck-my-mouth red lips. Big red lips that look like they were made to suck
cock.

"Remember what happened to the last pretty boy? He wasn't close to as cute
as this one, but he was in the infirmary with anal tears before a week was
out. The juvenile judge let the kid out for his own protection, but that
isn't likely to happen to our Mr. Woods. He'll have an army of juvenile
delinquents swearing that he came on to them, and given that he's in for
propositioning in a gay bar, the judge will never take his word against
everyone else's."

I didn't really know what anal tears were, but they sounded bad enough that
I didn't want to find out.

My plan to seduce Sal had worked, but I hadn't exactly gotten what I wanted
out of it. If at first you don't succeed, keep trying. "I uh, was hoping
that maybe you could, you know, dismiss my charges since I've never been
arrested before. I'd be really, really grateful if you could. Appreciate it
a ton. I'd agree to do anything." Given that I had happily offered up my
ass already, I had no idea what else I could do.

"Well, son," Sal said, "if you were from Vegas, we might be able to work
something out. Maybe some community service. And my brother and I could
arrange to fuck your tight ass often enough so that you wouldn't need to
solicit any more police officers. We're identical twins and we share the
same attraction to tight twink asses. But, since you're headed out of town
tomorrow – that is if you're not locked up here – I don't see how
that would work."

I rushed to say, "Well, uh, I might, you know, visit my aunt and uncle
again." Before I continued, the realization that Sal and Joe were identical
twins gave me a sudden, brilliant idea. Sheer genius. Well, only time would
tell if it was brilliant, but it was the one thing I could offer the
officers that I hadn't already given them.

"You know," I said, licking me lips and giving my best imitation of a
sex-starved twink. "One thing that sounds really hot is to get
double-fucked by identical twins. Even better if it was two hunks in
uniforms, and better still if it was two studs who know how to fuck a boy's
pussy. No way am I going to ever proposition a police officer again, not
now that I've been fucked by the two hottest men on the police
force. Double-fuck me and let me go, and I promise that whenever I can get
back to Vegas, you'll have the use of my ass for whatever you
want. Including repeat double fucks."

Neither Sal nor Joe said anything, staring at me in disbelief. Go after
what you want, I told myself. Not waiting for a response, I crawled over to
Joe and tugged his zipper down, exposing his cut cock, fresh from its tour
of duty in my ass. I began to lick it and coax it back to life, mumbling,
"I didn't get a chance to suck your cock as much as I did your brother's."

I worried that it would take a long time to get the stud officer hard again
because he had climaxed in my ass only a few minutes ago. His cock didn't
jump right to being rock hard, but that merely made me redouble my
efforts. I was soon rewarded by the swelling of Joe's manhood, and not long
afterward, it filled my mouth.

Sal, meanwhile, had gotten behind me and was eating out my well-used
hole. I loved the feel of his beard against my ass crack. I tugged Joe's
pants down to his ankles, exposing his thick, hairy legs.

The twins soon switched positions, with Sal offering up his stiff cock and
Joe working my ass. Fuck, his tongue was driving me crazy, making me want
to have a stiff fuck rod buried in my ass. Or two stiff fuck rods.

Joe finally lay down on top of the desk and I happily lowered my ass and
impaled myself on his erection. His cock plunged into my hole with no
problems and he began guiding my hips up and down. My own dick was rock
hard and leaking pre-cum like a faucet. Staring down at Joe's hot body, I
couldn't help but think I was riding Joe Manganiello and the stud was
fucking my ass. Again.

I felt Sal's lubed cock at the entrance to my stretched hole, and I moaned,
"Yeah, fuck my ass. I want both of your hard cocks inside me at the same
time." Sal obliged me by forcing the head of his dick past my sphincter. I
had the same brief moment of disbelief that I had experienced when Jan and
Jon, and then Aleksei and Evgeny, had double-fucked me. And I can't say it
didn't hurt some. But no way in hell was I going to complain.

Sal gradually forced his dick all the way inside my hole and, once there,
he began to pump in and out, sliding his cock against Joe's identical fuck
pole. Joe pulled me down into a passionate kiss. He growled and ground his
mouth against me, kissing the same as he fucked. Hard. The feel of his soft
beard against my face and his hairy chest against my bare pecs reminded me
that I was getting my ass double-fucked by men who knew how to use a hole.

I kinda hoped I was the first guy they had double-fucked. I wondered if the
stud officers had had sex with each other the way Jan and Jon had, and
Aleksei and Evgeny, too. I was in a three-way with twins, so I suppose that
technically counted as yet another round of incest. Maybe I was merely
aiding and abetting incest, but it sure was hot.

The stud cops doubled-fucked me for a good, long while when we broke long
enough for Joe and Sal to change positions. Now I was pressed against Sal's
chest and letting his tongue rape my mouth while Joe rammed his cock into
me from behind, sliding against his brother's rod, which was already wedged
deep in my hole. All three of us were drenched in sweat. I could feel my
hair plastered against my forehead.

Sal lifted my ass up so that he could pound my pussy by thrusting
upwards. It was a good thing Joe was 6'4" or 6'5" because he was tall
enough to keep his cock buried in my hole despite the target being raised.

If Sal and Joe hadn't double-fucked guys before, they quickly figured out
what to do. I was merely a tool that the officers were using to get their
rocks off. I got the impression they were making love to each other and
using me as a sex toy. That was okay with me. My head was spinning with the
sensations of being sandwiched between two massive men and having my ass
feel incredibly, impossibly full. My dick was leaving thick strings of
pre-cum on Sal's flat, hairy stomach.

We changed positions once again. This time, Sal was still on the desk and I
was still sitting on him, but the officers turned me around so that I faced
Joe. Fuck. I had been on the edge of cumming the entire time that the
police officers used my boi hole, but now, with my ass completely filled
with double cop cock and staring at a Joe Manganiello look-alike who was
kissing me and twisting my tits, I practically lost it hands-free.

My hole was getting raw from the marathon double-fuck when the Montagna
twins got on the floor with their crotches pressed together and made me
lower myself on their identical poles. I sort of liked the position,
because I could see Joe to my left and Sal to my right and I could control
how deeply and how rapidly I impaled myself on their paired cocks. But the
position stretched my abused hole even wider.

Figuring I needed to capitalize on my last chance to avoid the disaster of
being locked up, I worked myself practically to exhaustion, bouncing up and
down on the two stiff cop cocks until I was sweating like a pig and I
feared my legs would cramp. My dick didn't need much encouragement to stay
rock hard and sloppy with pre-cum, but I periodically stroked it a couple
of times.

"I want to feel your cum against my cock," Sal growled. I didn't see how
that was possible unless I pulled off Sal's cock, but then I realized he
was talking to his brother. Joe responded by thrusting upward as I dropped
down, growling and ramming his cock deep into my boi pussy. A moment later
he moaned, "Oh, fuck!" I felt my ass get sloppy wet with thick spunk.

Sal didn't last much longer, grabbing my hips and forcing me down on his
lurching rod as he climaxed inside me. Joe fisted my cock for perhaps 20
seconds before I blasted a load across his chest and abs. I was prepared to
suck it up, thinking that licking Joe's awesome chest would be wonderful,
but Sal pre-empted me and ran his tongue up and down his brother's chest,
scooping up a mouthful of my jizz and feeding it to Joe as they shared a
passionate kiss.

I wasn't watching the first kiss the two brothers had shared. I strongly
suspected they shared the same secret that my half-brothers Jan and Jon
shared. A little brotherly incest on the side. Maybe more than a little
incest. The thought of the two masculine hunks in bed together, flip flop
fucking, gave me a wonderful image for jacking off. Not that I didn't have
a thick mental photo book of those after my week in Vegas.

Watching the two studs make out was hot, and it occurred to me that perhaps
I had yet another entry in my imaginary Guinness Book of World Records –
Gay Sex Edition. Surely nobody could say that he had been double-fucked by
three sets of identical twins over three consecutive days. Actually,
because Aleksei and Evgeny had double-fucked me early Sunday morning,
followed by Jan and Jon later that morning, the count was three sets of
twins over two consecutive days. Three double fucks in 36 hours. My ass
would never be the same. I happily cleaned Sal's and Joe's spent cocks as
they kissed.

The officers pulled on their uniforms and checked for messages, but then
Sal sat down at his desk. Joe had me stand, naked, and walked around as if
he was inspecting merchandise, occasionally feeling my muscles or running
his hand up my crack.

"Maybe I'll just keep you here as a fuck toy," Sal said, grinning at
me. "Bring you in here first thing in the morning and work your ass all day
long before I send you back to the thugs in lockup to use your holes all
night long. What do you think, Joe?"

"Kid's ass is amazing," Joe said, grabbing both cheeks. "Be a shame to give
it up." Perhaps my high stakes gamble wasn't going to work after all,
although if that was to be my fate, I couldn't say the gamble had been a
complete failure.

My disappointment must have shown on my face, because after a pause, Sal
sighed and said, "As tempting as it is, we're not gonna do that, son. But I
hope you've learned your lesson. People come to Vegas and think there are
no rules and they can do whatever wild things they want. That's not the way
it works. It's not as easy as the advertising slogan, `What Happens in
Vegas, Stays in Vegas.' I hope you realize you can't repeat your little
adventure at the bar ever again."

"Yes, sir, I do. Absolutely."

Sal nodded. "So, Mr. Woods, I'm giving you a second chance. Here is what I
will do. Since you don't have a record and because you just made a very
persuasive case that you'll never proposition a police officer again,
present company excepted, I'm going to release you and recommend that the
charges against you be conditionally dismissed in six months. During that
six-month period, you'll report to Officer Montagna and me once a week if
and when you are in Las Vegas. I think you know what will happen to you
during those meetings. This afternoon was a short – and I do mean short
– indication of what to expect. Those meetings are to ensure you have
absolutely no reason to ever proposition a police officer, other than one
of us.

"When you're in Illinois, you'll check in electronically, once a week,
promptly. You'll need to make at least one more trip to Vegas to appear in
court for the final dismissal of your charges. That can be in six months or
at any time after that, but until you appear in court the dismissal will
remain conditional and subject to being revoked for any misconduct. Any
misconduct at all."

Joe bent down and whispered something to Sal. The shaved-headed officer
smiled and added, "Officer Montagna reminds me that there is one final
requirement. The court hears dismissals on Mondays. You'll need to report
to us at the end of the day on the previous Friday and be prepared to
remain in our custody until the hearing on Monday.

"Joe and I have a little cabin in the mountains outside town. We have a
nice collection of toys there. During that weekend, Officer Montagna and I
will want to see exactly how grateful you are for the charges being
dismissed and make sure you've learned your lesson. Consider the weekend as
a sort of final exam in which you can demonstrate more of what you just
showed us. The only difference is that you'll need to be at the top of your
game for two and a half days rather than merely two hours." Sal exchanged a
knowing glance with Joe.

Despite having shot a load minutes earlier, my cock announced its happiness
with the arrangement by stiffening as if it was saluting the two hunky
officers. Joe notice, and his fist closed on my cock and squeezed,
hard. "Fucking kids," Joe said, "They can get just thinking about sex."

Sal stood up and said, "Good luck, son." I realized I was free to go. "Get
dressed. Officer Montagna – Joe – will take you home. I warn you that
any other fuck ups – getting in trouble with the law, getting in trouble
in school, you name it – and the conditional dismissal will go away. And
then you'll have to face the music. Understood?"

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir," I gushed. I couldn't believe my Vegas-style,
high stakes gamble had worked.


Epilogue

Officer Montagna – Joe – pulled his police cruiser up to the parking
garage at my uncle and aunt's penthouse, and Carlos, the hunky guy at the
valet stand, gave Montagna a big smile and greeted him. He clearly knew
Montagna. Maybe that shouldn't have been a surprise. If you got rid of the
tourists, Vegas wasn't that big of a town.

Carlos's eyes went wide, however, when Montagna opened the rear door to his
police cruiser and I climbed out. Only police officers were allowed in the
front seat, and in any event, technically I was still charged with a
laundry list of crimes. Carlos frowned and gave Montagna a questioning
look.

I thanked Montagna and hustled to the elevator bank, not waiting to hear
what he said to Carlos. I looked back and saw Carlos and Montagna
chatting. Fuck. I didn't know if the details about my arrest were
confidential or public. Montagna might be spilling the beans about my
escapades. Even if Montagna wasn't talking, Carlos probably knew Montagna
worked in juvenile detention. So it wouldn't be hard for Carlos to put two
and two together and figure out I had gotten in trouble. I might have to
bribe Carlos to stay quiet. Although if bribing the hot Latin stud meant
offering to show him how Ren had blitzed my ass around the corner from the
valet stand the night we got back from Alice's, I'd be happy to pay the
price.

I had time to shower, making sure my very tender and raw asshole was
thoroughly cleaned out. It occurred to me that Jon would have loved eating
out the accumulated cop cum, and would say it was a shame to let it go to
waste. So I stuck my finger in my hole a couple of times and greedily
slurped down the mιlange of college boy and tough cop ball batter. I
thought about introducing Jan and Jon to the double-fuck position the two
officers had used on me at the end of their marathon occupation of my
ass. But that only made me feel lonesome, because who knew when I would see
them again.

I changed into some of the expensive clothes that Jan and Jon had presented
me with when they departed earlier in the day. They looked good on me.

I was nervously pacing the penthouse when the doorman downstairs announced
the arrival of guests. I had no idea what to expect. As we waited for the
elevator, my uncle draped an arm around my shoulder and asked, "Are you
okay, Jen?"

I nodded. Meeting my birth father was something I desperately wanted, but
my mind was in a dense fog.

The elevator opened to reveal Addison Lind, Ricardo Noc and Quentin. My
first thought was that I was imagining it all. My second thought was that
someone was playing some kind of perverse practical joke on me. My third
thought was that I had another disaster on my hands.

I wasn't imagining the three men and it wasn't a joke. As for the disaster,
it was apparently going to play out in slow motion. My uncle shook hands
with the three men, introducing himself and my aunt. And me. I stared at
Lind, Noc and Quentin wide-eyed and they returned the favor. Our shocked
reactions didn't tip my uncle and aunt off to anything, but I suppose it
would be hard to know what a normal reaction would be to a first meeting
with a previously unknown relative.

My uncle introduced Lind as my birth father, Noc as his brother – thus
my uncle – and Quentin as Quentin Lind, Addison's son. Great. My week of
incest couldn't have been any weirder. I had had sex with my birth father,
two uncles and three half-brothers. All six men had seeded my ass, five of
them within the last 48 hours. My butt had hosted a veritable family
reunion of sperm.

In the back of my mind was a voice saying, `you've overdone it, Jen. Guys
don't sleep with their brothers. They don't sleep with their uncles. And
they certainly don't sleep with their fathers. You've done them all.' My
mind whirled as I counted up the men who had seeded my ass over the course
of the week. Okay, technically nine days. Twenty-four cocks, six of them my
relatives'. In order, it was Jan, Jon, Ren, Marcio, Dillinger, Katsumi,
Quentin, Cameron, Giovanni, Dolph, Ric, Arlo, Pyotr, Aleksei, Evgeny, Alec,
Addison, Rafe, my uncle, the man in the stall at RevoSunday, Brandon, Caio,
Sal and Joe. I had taken 24 different cocks up my ass. Twenty-four
different flavors of jizz had squirted into my hole. Several of the 24
cocks had pillaged my ass on multiple occasions, like Jan and Jon, who had
probably been inside me every day until I missed out on the mile-high club
today.

My track record didn't make me a slut. It qualified me as a slut on
steroids. An incest-crazed slut on steroids. Maybe I had gone a little
overboard.

But... I didn't regret a single one of those experiences. I'd do them all
again. What good was spring break, and spring break in Vegas, if you
couldn't go a little crazy?

My uncle was explaining how the DNA match between my birth father and me
had been discovered. Apparently, my father's oldest son, another one of my
half-brothers, had been in the British military and was killed a few years
ago in Afghanistan. The British had begun collecting DNA samples from their
combat troops – easier to identify bodies if they were destroyed beyond
recognition – and records of the soldier's DNA were included in a
database my uncle's company accessed. The soldier's sample matched my
DNA. Because we were only half-brothers, it wasn't a conclusive match, but
given that my father had known my mother – intimately, it appeared –
the connection was confirmed. To resolve any doubt, my birth father had
given a DNA sample that proved he was my father.

My uncle sensed the awkward reactions between my new family members and me,
and he tactfully suggested that my father and I might need a few minutes
alone. He escorted us to my aunt's office. It was smaller than my uncle's
study and looked like a show home office that had never been used. I
suspected my aunt had never actually set foot in her office. But I was glad
I wasn't meeting my father in my uncle's study, where my uncle had drilled
my ass less than 24 hours ago.

My father leaned against a glass wall. A spectacular vista of Las Vegas
spread out behind him. He looked at me and sighed. Rubbing his eyes and
looking totally like Hugh Grant, he said, "No reason to put off addressing
the 800-pound gorilla in the room; ignoring it is idiotic. I'm sorry for
what happened between us; trust me, I had no idea. Perhaps deep down
something about you reminded me of your mother and tripped something. I
don't know what to say."

I was glad my father broached the subject. His words quickly crystalized my
thoughts. "I'm not sorry," I replied confidently. My father frowned,
wondering if he heard me correctly. But I knew exactly where I was headed.

"I'm not sorry in the least. It was wonderful, and I'd do it again in a
moment. I'd do it now if we wouldn't scandalize the rest of the
family. Hell, I really don't care about scandalizing anyone. Making love to
you was wonderful and something I will always treasure. The fact I know
you're my father makes it a hundred times more special. You'll have to look
elsewhere for regrets. I have none."

My father raised his eyebrows and slowly smiled at me. Damn, he was Hugh
Grant. "I have only met one other person that would have or could have said
what you said. Your mother. She may even have told me something about not
having regrets that is eerily like what you just said. She was determined
never to regret anything she did, only things she could have done but never
chanced. That was her vision of life. It's uncanny how much you remind me
of her."

I suddenly wanted to know everything about my birth mother. Why hadn't I
ever wanted to dig into her life? Granted my adoptive parents subtly and
not-so-subtly discouraged it, and I knew that my adoptive father would be
furious if I showed any curiosity about my birth mother. But now I was
intrigued.

As if reading my mind, my father got a faraway look in his eyes and began
recounting how he met my mother and their relationship. I sensed that he
was deeply in love with her in some way. Still in love, 18 years after her
death. His descriptions of her left no doubt he put her on something of a
pedestal, but perhaps that was inevitable for someone who died so
young. And in a Porsche sports car. In the little bastard, named, according
to my brothers, after me.

My father paused and grinned. "You're the result of my last ditch effort to
convince myself I wasn't gay. At the time, I was married to Quentin's
mother; too frequently, marriages among royalty were still halfway
arranged, and ours was. Marriage hadn't made my interest in men disappear,
but when your mother came around – beautiful, carefree, vivacious,
exciting – I was immediately enamored. I felt surely I could be sexually
attracted to a woman like that. And I was. Making love to her was
amazing. I would have been happy with her. But she wasn't interested in
settling down. Not then and perhaps not ever.

"We went our separate ways, and I confronted my sexual orientation and came
out to my wife. Within weeks we divorced, before we even knew she was
carrying Quentin. Ironically, given the fact that you and Quentin share the
same birthday, it is quite possible that the two of you are the result of
my last two sexual experiences with women.

"Quentin grew up with his mother. I saw him erratically, partly due to my
life in Europe and partly due to my ex-wife's caution about exposing
Quentin to what she viewed as my lifestyle. When Quentin came out to her on
his 14th birthday, she promptly exiled him to live with me. I doubt I've
been much of a father to him, but he seems to have flourished. My lingering
concern is that he seems not to have close friends."

As my father's description of his past wound down, the 800-pound gorilla
made another appearance in the room. At least for me. I looked at my father
and said bluntly, "What we did yesterday, can we do it again? I want to
spend time with you and get to know you. Do father-son things, and do gay
father-gay son things. And I want to go to your bed to make love with you."

A small smile crossed my father's face. He pursed his lips and said, "Had I
known you were my son before we made love, I would never have considered
it. But without knowing we were breaking that barrier, we've broken it, and
I can't think of an intelligent reason to say no. I want to make love to
you as much as you want me to, and that is strange because I've never been
interested in young men. I've never blindly followed others' taboos and I'm
not ruling it out. I can't think of anyone I want to hold in my arms and
kiss and make love to more than you. But I think for now we need to take a
little time to assimilate things."

"Take as much time as you need," I said, impetuously kissing my father on
the lips and slipping my tongue in his mouth. "I've had as much time as I
need. I'm ready whenever you give the word. And I'm not going away, so
don't assume you can put me off forever." My father smiled and hugged me.

After my father, my brief meetings with Quentin and Ric were easy. Quentin
had absolutely no qualms about sleeping with his half-brother, but instead
was worried I would be freaked out and wouldn't want to have sex with him
again. When he pieced together that I cool with it, he was excited to have
a best-friend, fuck-buddy, brother-lover and thrilled about the prospects
of spending time together. He was Cedric Diggory once again. He said he
couldn't wait to get my cock in his ass and knowing I was his half-brother
would make sex twice as wonderful.

Quentin happily began making plans for us to go on trips together, listing
all the places in Europe he wanted to show me. For that matter, Quentin had
been in far more places in the U.S. than I had. I pointed out that, in some
sense, we would be stuck together for the rest of our lives, but that
merely made him give me a big smile, making him look like Cedric
Diggory. He followed that with a deep, passionate kiss before telling me if
I wanted him to, he'd go down on me for a quickie. As tempting as the offer
was, I begged off, figuring I had already taken enough chances for one day.

Ric was harder; I continuously reassured him that I wasn't bothered in the
least by what we had done, but I could tell he felt guilty. I would need to
work on him, but I was confident he would come around in the end. Maybe not
to the point of having sex with me again, but I wasn't going to rule that
out. Hell, getting topped again by my Ben-Barnes-look-alike uncle would be
worth the wait. I was pretty sure in time I would have his cock buried in
my ass.

My conversation with Ric answered the mystery of why he didn't share his
brother's last name. Apparently Ric was the illegitimate son of my paternal
grandfather, the Duke that Henry mentioned in passing when he escorted me
to the suite at the Wynn. Ric's mother was a Czech beauty and she had given
Ric his Latin-sounding first name and her last name. In addition to being
related, Ric and I shared something in common; we both were illegitimate
and carried our mother's last name.

My father and Ric were in the same situation that Quentin and I were in;
half-brothers, one illegitimate. I wondered briefly if my father had slept
with Ric, like Quentin and I had done. A young Hugh Grant and Ben Barnes
having sex. I told myself to get my mind out of the gutter. That would be
too bizarre.

By the time I finished meeting my newfound relatives one-on-one, my uncle
gathered us in his office. As we assembled, I was struck by the irony that,
over the course of the week, I had thought each of my relatives looked like
a British actor. My twin brothers looking like Freddie Fox, my father's
resemblance to a young Hugh Grant, Quentin being a carbon copy of Cedric
Diggory, Ric's smoldering Ben-Barnes-like looks, and my uncle being able to
pass for an older Alex Pettyfer. Freaky weird.

My uncle had a new surprise. With everyone settled in his office, he
announced, "Jen, I apologize in advance if you think what I am about to
tell you is the result of meddling in something that should never have been
disturbed. But in the course of testing your DNA sample against our
database, my investigators looked into your adoption paperwork. It's
routine to collect birth certificates and adoption paperwork for the
database.

"As it turns out, my brother never signed and filed your paperwork. I'm not
completely surprised, because at the time of the adoption he made several
offhand comments about not signing. He has consistently rebuffed the
lawyers' efforts to get him to complete the paperwork, even written the
court a letter saying he would not sign it. I knew he was embarrassed by
you having been born out of wedlock, and he told me that he would never be
able to look at you without seeing an illegitimate child. At the time, I
assumed he was merely letting off steam, but with him you never know what
to expect.

"What this means that legally, you were never adopted. With the paternity
test confirming your birth father's identity, Addison is now your legal
guardian and adoption paperwork won't be valid unless he consents."

My father spoke up, "I'll do whatever you want, Jen. If you want me to
authorize that paperwork, I will. Assuming your adoptive father wants to
sign it. That doesn't mean that I will stop thinking of you as my son;
quite the contrary. I lost one son tragically, but I'm thrilled to have
found another one. However, you've lived with your adoptive parents for 17
years and I will hardly stand in the way of that history."

My mind whirled. Was it possible I had been handed a path out of southern
Illinois? My uncle's comment about my adoptive father saying he would never
look at me without seeing an illegitimate child – a bastard – made
complete sense. That explained much about how he saw me and how he treated
me. My twin brothers loved the little bastard, and my adoptive father hated
him.

"So, if you don't authorize the adoption paperwork, then legally, you're my
only parent?" I asked.

"Yes, that's correct, Jen," my father answered, glancing at my uncle, who
nodded confirmation.

"That's what I want," I said.

"That's what I want, too," my father replied, "but you don't have to decide
this now. No reason not to take a day or two – or however long you need
– to think about it."

I shook my head. "I know what I want. I don't need more time." I had a
`get-out-of-jail-free' card and there was no way I wasn't using it as soon
as possible. I had gotten out of one jail hours earlier, and now I could
get out of another one, too.

Suddenly it occurred to me that only my birth father had to approve my
modeling contract. Gazing at him, I asked, "Will you sign my modeling
contract?"

I got puzzled stares from my aunt and uncle, who hadn't been aware of the
contract, but my father chuckled and said, "Of course, if that's what you
want. It will take a few weeks or a month for the paperwork to be filed
with the court before I'm confirmed legally as your father, but that is
routine and as soon as it is done, the contract will be finished."

Fuck! My modeling career was going to happen after all.

As the reality of my new situation sank in, I realized that, while I never
had to go back to southern Illinois, I had nowhere to live. My father was
headed to Europe, and even if the legal paperwork had been done, I lacked a
passport. This time my aunt seemed to read my mind.

"Jen," she said, "your uncle and I have discussed this, and we'd be
absolutely delighted to have you stay with us here in Las Vegas for the
next couple of months, until the legal paperwork is finished and we can get
you a passport to fly to Europe with your father. I'll have someone look
into the local schools, but maybe we'll just hire a tutor to help you
finish this year of high school. And when we relocate to Aspen for the
summer, we'd love to host you there. Unfortunately, you'll find that it's a
bit quieter around here without Jan and Jon, and I feel terrible that
you'll be on your own a fair amount because your uncle and I both travel
extensively in the spring. But Ren will be around when he isn't in the air
and he's quite fond of you. He told me he thinks of you as his little
brother. The downtime will give you an opportunity to work on your
studies."

Or time to work on other intriguing possibilities. I could console myself
with an almost unlimited variety of stiff cocks: keeping Ren from getting
too horny before he and Alice started sleeping together; servicing Dolph in
between his pussy invasions; occasionally putting Arlo's nonstop fuck rod
to good use; getting sandwiched between Cam and Gio during visits to the
lifeguards' locker room; enjoying a hard-bodied frenzy fuck during a
dalliance or two with Alec; getting pounded by Rafe in time to his music in
the DJ stand; being impaled on Aleksei's and Evgeny's twin dicks while they
gave me some Russian gymnastics lessons; hooking up with Brandon and his
fratboys for a little college fun; surprising Caio when he was cleaning the
gym by bending over a weight bench and begging him to fuck my ass; and
visiting Officers Joe and Sal Montagna on a weekly basis to keep my ass
well-stretched and out of jail. And there was always my uncle.

All of that was without exploring some other interesting options, like
Carlos at the valet stand and Vinny at the pool. Or the army of gay pool
attendants only an elevator ride away. Or Jan and Jon's friend Tion at
Revo. With Tion's help and my fake ID, I could hit Revo on Sunday nights,
and I would make sure the black hunk knew exactly how thankful I was for
his assistance. Yeah, it was going to be quieter without Jan and Jon, but I
would make do. I could handle the kind of quiet I was facing.

My father weighed in. "While you were talking to Quentin and Ric, your
uncle and aunt and I briefly talked about some possibilities for the
fall. Unfortunately, I'm on the road almost nonstop. You could join me on
my trips on occasion, but you need to finish school. Living in an empty
house in London or Monaco wouldn't be the best. I could inquire about
getting you into Quentin's boarding school, but jumping from an American
high school to a British boarding school for only a year wouldn't be
easy. And Quentin has been eager for a change of scenery himself. His
school is terribly inconvenient for his modeling.

"Jan and Jon will be starting at Columbia next fall in New York, and New
York might be an ideal base for all four of you – as convenient as
anyplace for me to visit and good for modeling, both the travelling as well
as shots in New York. There are some excellent day schools that would work
perfectly for you and Quentin. I don't mean to rush you into anything;
think about it and we can talk later."

I didn't have much thinking to do. Living with my three half-brothers in
New York sounded like a dream come true. I was going to have to work out
who I slept with, but I didn't think that was going to be a problem. Unless
you consider a sore asshole a problem.

With all four of us having modeling commitments, it was unlikely we'd be at
the house at the same time very often anyway. I knew Jan and Jon had the
hots for Quentin, and Quentin had let enough hints drop that I figured it
was only a matter of time before all four of us had sex together. Great,
fabulous, awesome sex. Okay, it was technically incest, but who the fuck
cared?

Now I had something to look forward to. To be precise, more fucking to look
forward to.

THE END (...at least of this episode in Jen's life)


For those of you who managed to make it all the way to the end, please let
me know how you liked the story. And if you are interested, I've started a
new story titled "The Taming of the Jock" posted in the gay/high school
category on Nifty.org. I promise to keep it shorter!

Thanks for your emails. I really appreciate hearing from
you. Coltonaalto@gmail.com

© Copyright Colton Aalto 2016