Road Trip

By T. Chase McPhee

Published on Sep 7, 2006

Gay

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.

"ROAD TRIP Steel" wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

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"Y'know Miguel, this is really good," I said to him, as he busied himself at the stove.

"Gracias."

I knew enough Spanish, to get by.

Roberto mentions, "You wouldn't think of it that way, if you knew what was in those eggs, Anthony."

Suddenly, I stopped the chomping, holding my last bite in my mouth.

"Roberto, you got to learn to hold your tongue," Miguel says, placing both hands on my shoulders. "What you think Anthony start to think about me?"

I smiled, once again chewing away at the grub.

"Sorry."

In Roberto's defense, I swallowed, then proceeded, "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

After a pause, I asked, "By the way, what exactly is `in' these here eggs?"

"Get ready to vomit," Roberto warned.

Giving a second warning, Miguel asks, "Roberto?"

"Sorry."

Miguel sits, stabs at his food, places it in his mouth and chomps away. After a slug of coffee he digs in on the conversation.

"Mmmmm, just the way mama taught me," he speaks of his own cuisine.

I was curious. It must have shown on my face.

"Nothing unusual," Miguel states, "eggs, milk, Jack cheese, dried pig's ear..."

Roberto giggles. I know I must've turned every color of the gay flag.

"Um, dried pig's ear? Y'mean like Porky Pig?"

"You like him too?"

While I thought about running to the jon, Miguel delved into his past, rattling off every Warner Bros. cartoon character, mentioning different episodes. Looking across the table, Roberto held this fasination for whether I was going to be sick.

"Excuse me. I think I have to piss."

I didn't lie. I had to piss. Right after losing my whole breakfast.

"Miguel says he's putting together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

I turned, to see Roberto standing there, smiling.

"And did he give you hell?"

"For what?"

I flushed, rather than putting him through what I puked into the bowl.

"Oh that. Sorry. I didn't know it would really make you sick, to mention it."

"Well do me a favor from now on. If it's not hamburger, chicken or an ordinary pork chop, then don't mention it to me!"

Roberto was really out to make things right between us. Still, with my pants unzipped, he came over behind me.

"Here, let me help you with that."

I looked down, to see his hands coming around the bend of my torso. One hand took over holding my 9.5c. Running his hand from it's hairy base, to mid-length.

"How do you expect me to piss like this?"

"Why? What's the difference if you hold it or me?"

He was playing dumb. Coy. Mischevious. As bad as I had to piss, it wouldn't come out! Now what? Coming around from behind, I knew Roberto wasn't going to help out with my bladder. But he sure did wonders with helping forget about the pig's ear.

"Ooooooooooooooh," I sighed.

Bending over in half, his tongue ran the length of my tube. As if speaking to me, my cock and churning balls told me not to stop him from unbuckling my belt. Soon my pants lay at my ankles, the opening of my briefs holding my cock in place, as Roberto tongued the length.

"Damn!" I said, looking up at the ceiling, squinting my eyes, from the pleasure.

It felt so, so good, to have his hot, wet tongue massage my now rock hard shaft. Then his hands, sliding up, under my shirt, finding my nips in the mass of chest hair, tweaking them.

"Oooooooh shit!" I gasped.

It seemed as if they had been wired to my cock.

"Hee heee... I knew you have sensitive nips!"

"What tha?"

I didn't even apologize to Roberto, slapping him in the face with my cock, as I turned. There, Miguel stood, his hands at his sides, instead of under my shirt.

"What do you think you're doing, Miguel?"

"I not make you feel good?"

"Yeah. I mean..."

"You like your nips... tweakie?"

Looking at him, he behaved the total opposite of the first time I met him. Gone was the rough, tough outer appearance and demeanor. Instead, the angelic face coaxed me into being forgiving.

"Um, yeah. It felt good."

"Ah, Miguel, you're interrupting something here."

As a sudden change in the weather, Miguel shot back at Roberto, "You watch your mouth or I'll take you out back for a whipping!"

"Um, that happen much?"

"Que?" Miguel throws his attention from Roberto, back to my pocket.

"The whipping? You whip Roberto a lot?"

"He never whipped me until yesterday."

"I have a feeling there's a lot of pieces missing to the puzzle here."

"Come, amigo. We talk."

Without thinking of my pants down around my ankles, I started to step.

"Whoooooooooooooooooooa!"

"Watch it, Anthony," Roberto called out.

Falling forward, Miguel's arms went right around my waist. Even as Roberto tugged at my shirt, it wasn't enough to his advantage to keep me up on my feet. As a natural reaction, my arms went over his brother's shoulders. About 5'10, a hundred and ninety pounds, several inches shorted and smaller around the waist than myself, one would never had guessed the strength the Miguel had in his arms.

"Anthony.. you okay amigo?"

Bracing myself, I moved my hands to his shoulder and righted myself, as if doing a pushup.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Then, looking down at my pants, I remarked, "Damn pants!"

"Here, let me help," Roberto obliged, tugging at the beltline, hoisting them up.

"I help too," Miguel commented.

The form of help he offered, had been optional. My cock hanging out of my briefs, wanted an issue in me finding my way out of the jon. Yet, Miguel made it part of the rescue mode.

"Yeah," I coughed, "um thanks a whole lot, Miguel."

I appreciated the fact that I didn't have to bother pulling my briefs away from my body, reaching down in and retracting it through the manmade hole in the fabric.

"No problemo," he retorted, a smile on his face.

"I hope you got your jollies, Miguel."

The comments from Roberto this time, shamed Miguel. Rather than taking it as a wiseass encounter, he blushed a little.

"Let's just forget about it?"

So that's what we did. I zipped up my fly and we headed out into the kitchen. In a bag, Miguel had placed the p'n'b sandwich, accompanied by a gray thermos.

"I make coffee. Roberto?"

"Yes?" he asks gathering up some napkins.

"I want you make sure you take everything you need from your room. Here, I have box for you."

He handed Roberto an empty box.

"Y'know Miguel, it's not like you're never going to see him again," I offered.

"You come and visit?"

"Sure we will."

Then, I said that stupid remark again.

"Got to get your money back for you."

I laughed.

He laughed.

Roberto said, "You're loco, Anthony. I going up to my room."

I stayed there with Miguel, while he poured another cup of java for us.

"You do that for me?"

"Do what?"

He paused, sipped, then said, "Maybe you wrestle?"

"Wrestle?"

"You wrestler, no?"

"It's been a few years."

"Then maybe after you get better, I set up wrestle match?"

I wasn't entirely opposed. I entertained the thought.

"We'll see, Miguel. I'm not promising anything at this point."

As I sat at the table, taking a sip of my coffee, my other hand enterained the bulge in between my legs. As I sat there, I smiled at him, as he smiled back. I wondered if Miguel knew what kept my hand busy. Good thing he found an excuse to leave the room.

"I go check on Roberto. He take long time."

I acknowledged him. After he left, I scooted out from under the table. As if feeling up my erection didn't convince me of my thoughts of wrestling with one of the guys Miguel would be setting me up with. Right away, thoughts of tough Juan, filled my brain. The more I reflected on his bold pecs, rounded stomach, hair covering his entire frontal region, those big fists, the more I wanted to get off.

"Oh shit!" I said out loud.

Same thing feeling up my hard shaft in my jeans, I had to reach inside, my right hand diving under my belt. I looked up. Sure thing. I had cum. Like an idiot, instead of unbuckling my belt and doing the proper thing, I stuffed the paper towel inside, to mop up. Upon hearing footsteps on from the hallway, I clammed up. There wasn't enough time to retrieve. Yet, it's a good thing that my 9.5c behaved like a pup.

"Oh, don't bother with that," Miguel said, mistaking me for wanting to do the dishes.

"Are you sure?" I lied, catching his drift.

"You be on your way. You have a long drive."

Smiling, Roberto asks, "Is it alright if we get tired, to stop at Hojo's?"

Once again taking out that bank roll, Miguel peels off a few hundreds.

"You go north, not south. You go to Hyatt!"

I tried to protest, but for right now I didn't feel like putting up with a word-fight. I've had enough abuse over the last twenty-four hours. Neither, did I protest the long hug from Miguel, plus the extra `brotherly' touch, when he fondled my balls. The fun part came, when Roberto caught on.

"Owwwwch!" Miguel yelled when Roberto slapped his hand away.

"You already had your fun with Anthony's balls, remember?"

Smiling, getting over the slap of pain, he responded with a grin, "Such sweet memories!"

On the side, so Roberto couldn't hear, Miguel did mention our `wrestling chat'.

I stood my ground as "You never know."

Leaving, driving away from the service station, I sensed a feeling of a sentimental nature, with Roberto.

"You're going to miss him, aren't you?"

"Yes and no."

"Oh? How's that go?"

"Miguel's been real good to me. He did as best he could raising me after our folks were killed."

"How did that happen?" I inquired, turning north.

"No, don't go on the highway. I'll show you a shortcut, Anthony."

"If you say so."

I sensed reluctance, but then again there seemed to be a lot of mystery surrounding Roberto. Most likely he could say the same about me. We knew very little about each other, other than our sexual preference in bed.

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine with me."

"I'm okay with it."

Even though Roberto said so, he let the seat recline an inch or two and remained quiet. He really had my attention, even though I focused on the unknown road trip ahead.

"It's sort of how we got into all this."

"Your meaning is kidnapping guys like me?"

He reached over and put his hand on my thigh. I could see he still had regrets.

"It's behind us now, okay. Plus, if it never happened, I wouldn't have known a lot about myself. About how..." I sighed. "About how I could possibly fall in love with a man of the same sex."

As if ignoring my feelings, though I hardly think it the truth, Roberto spat out, "It was in the afternoon. My dad and Miguel's mom headed home from the market. They turned the corner at Miller's Road, but the oncoming car turned left at the same car. He sideswiped dad's truck. Losing control, he ran right into a tree. Miguel's good friend, Gregor called him."

"Gregor? Doesn't sound Hispanic to me?"

"He isn't. Half of him, at least. His dad is Russian, his mom Latino."

Pausing, I provoked, "So Gregor phoned Miguel and?"

"Miguel has always had this thing about law enforcement. He never trusted them."

"I see, so he decided to take the law into his own hands, is that it?"

"You got it."

"How old were you when this happened?"

"I was twenty-two. Miguel is three years older than me."

"I see."

He continued, "Gregor met us there, giving us the bad news about our folks. EMT people had checked them, right there in the car. They found no pulse. However, the guy that hit them, was pulled out very easily. Gregor stood there with us, telling us what he saw. He was there, tending the cows, when it happened. He saw the whole thing."

Roberto tensed up, but I let him continue.

"Damn court let him off easy. According to the investigation, my dad's driving attributed to the cause. Of course, that's not how Gregor saw it. Anyway, he got off with a slap on the wrist."

"The other guy?"

"Yeah." Then thinking a minute, Roberto recalls, "Pete Crawford."

"That's his name?"

"Yeah."

Then Roberto really started rolling the facts out.

"Miguel turned his vehicle off the road, out near the old Rt. 45. Not many people travel there. They use the new highway. I'm not sure all that happened to Pete. When Miguel brought him in... same way as you."

"Hanging, stripped naked from the two truck hook?"

"Yes, except not as sophisticated."

"How's that go?"

"For Miguel's first victim, he used ordinary clothesline rope."

"I see. Then what happened?"

"Miguel led him out back, throwing the rope over a tree limb and hoisting his body up, his arms over his head. Y'know, in a way I felt sorry for him."

"Why is that?"

"He wasn't much older than Miguel. Later, from his license... I always got in the habit of holding on to the men's wallets."

"To check them out?"

Roberto knew what I meant. The same way he ransacked my wallet, finding out my name, date of birth, where I hailed from and my work status. At first he mentioned `professor', when he found my college ID.

"Depended on how hot they looked."

"Oh? I must've looked like Ben Affleck, huh?"

"Oh, much more so."

Coming at an opportune moment, the stop sign gave us the advantage for a quick peck.

"So, I take it Miguel gave this Pete guy, hell?"

"I'll say. Then when he was done, Pete didn't look like he was breathing. He had welts all over his body. Miguel asked me, `you think he's had enough?' I told him I thought more than enough. He already knew I was getting sweet on the guy's looks."

"So, Miguel knew you had been gay?"

"We both knew about ourselves way before that."

I knew that would have to be saved for a bedtime story.

"So then Miguel let the fellow rest and send him on his way?"

"Oh know. He wasn't done with Pete by a long shot. Word got around, from Gregor, whom Miguel mentioned his plan to."

"Risky, wasn't it to tell someone else?"

"No. You see, Miguel, Gregor, Juan and some of his other buds, go back a long way. They are like blood brothers. They watch out for each other."

"I see. Um, that Juan has a powerful fist."

Overriding my thought, Roberto continued his story.

"He had me take care of Peter, after tying him eagle-spread to the bed. I um...maybe I was acting like a dumb kid. I know he was the one responsible for our folks death, but I couldn't be that mean to him."

"So, what do you constitute as `not' being mean?"

"Well, Anthony, this had been the first older man I've ever been close to. I was real excited."

"I know the feeling."

Roberto smiled at me.

"So, after washing his chest, stomach and..."

He sort of blushed.

"And his `other' parts?" I saved Roberto from saying.

"Yeah. I... I wanted to so badly..."

"Make him feel good?"

I think Roberto was picking up on my thoughts.

"Um," he scratched his head like it would help, "I guess you can say that."

"So, did you give him as great a blow job as you gave me?"

Roberto laughed out loud. If he wasn't attached to his bucket seat, he would have been rolling on the floor.

"Nah. I think I gave you... hey! What's this?"

"Oops!" I replied, feeling his hand on my crotch.

I don't believe Roberto made me pull over to the side of the road. Reaching over, he unbuckled my belt, unzipping my jeans.

"You're wet. Was I getting you off?"

"Oh no. I swear. It's from before."

"Before? When?"

"At the station. While I waited for you and Miguel to get your things."

He scratched his head.

"Other than me, what could do that to you, Anthony?"

It took me all of two minutes to explain about Miguel's idea of the wrestling match.

"You're `not' going to do it."

I couldn't believe I found myself contesting him.

"But why not?"

"Anthony, haven't you had enough? You just complained about Juan's big fists."

"I said he `had' big fists. I never said I didn't like feeling him punching me with them."

"And you `liked' that?"

I had to think a second. Is that what I was alluded to? Was I saying that I `liked' feeling Juan gut-punching me?

"Well?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"I don't get you Anthony."

"I don't get me neither."

Roberto sat back, not saying a word.

"Um, can I zip up now and get back on the road?"

"What's `that' in your briefs?"

"My cock and balls?"

I know he didn't believe me. He had to pull open the elastic, spot the white paper towel and tug it out. He held it up in front of him as if it was something repulsive. Then he did the weirdest thing I have ever seen.

"Mmmmm... smells good."

"Ewe. I can't believe you said that."

"Anthony, it's cum."

"I know it's cum, but do you have to smell it like that."

"Nothing wrong with smelling it, Anthony. It doesn't matter if it's here on this paper towel or sticking to the hair around your cock and balls."

I rolled my eyes, looking out the windown, then turned back. Talk about weird stuff!

"So, what your saying is, the cum that shoots out of my cock and lands on my hairy pubes is the same as what's on that paper towel?"

"Yeah."

A bedevilled spirit came over me.

"Then taste it!"

"What?"

I shrugged my shoulders, saying, "If it's the same... and did you not say that you `had' to have your protein, Roberto?"

"But that was different."

"Oh. Okay."

I put the car in gear.

"I don't know what the big eal is Anthony."

"No big deal. Forget I mentioned any of this. The garbage pail is behind the seat."

Starting out once again, I looked out onto the road to enter. Not a car had passed up since we arrived on the shoulder, but still you never know. I jambed on the brake.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" Roberto called out.

"I don't believe you did that!"

"I thought your mind was on the road."

"It was, but I happened to turn just in the nick of time!"

He smiled.

"You saw me, huh?"

Smiling back, I nodded yes.

"Well, to tell you the truth Anthony, it tastes better fresh out of you cock."

"I'll file that for future reference," I replied, looking back on the road, for the second time.

"Also."

I hesitated, looking over to him.

"It's also a world of difference, licking at your wiry pubes, than this smooth paper towel."

"But the main thing is," and I made this sound romantic, sensuous, "is that you are getting your nourishment!"

I flipped the car in gear and headed out onto the road.

"Got anything to clean my hand off with?"

"In the glove compartment..... no! Wait a minute!"

Too late.

"Will you watch where you're going? Hey, what's this doing in here?"

"Um, I dunno," I innocently lied.

Nobody ever rides in my car but me.

"So, you hadn't any clue to yourself being gay, huh?"

"I found it, okay?"

Holding it up, Roberto flipped through the issue of Genre.

"Very cute. Very, very cute. Gorgeous! And what's this?"

"What?" I asked, knowing he probably got to the part I would regret him noticing the most.

"These penned in circles around these numbers?"

"Oh, I thought sometime I'd take a vacation, maybe."

"Whiteparty.org?"

"Oh. The pen must've slipped."

"In a perfect circle around the Double Tree in Miami?"

He wasn't letting up. If I wasn't driving, I could have snatched it away from him before he discovered other' things. He had' to notice the facing page!

"Wow! Do you make `that' kind of money, Anthony?"

"Wishful thinking."

"What's wrong with car?"

"Nothing."

"Then why would you want to get a 2007 Jaguar XK?"

"I like the color silver."

Roberto wasn't finished with me yet, but also, his mind became engrossed with the hot boys, along the way.

"These guys are soooooo awesome!"

"I can tell."

He picked up the magazine and looked at what I assumed.

"Hee hee... um, it's not these pictures that are makeing me hard."

"Yeah. Sure they're not, Roberto. It's my pants that you forgot to zip up."

"Oh shit, sorry about that."

He reached over, tried zipping my pants up, but the zipper got stuck in my briefs.

"Oh well."

"Yeah. I'll fix it whenever."

At least he buckled my belt, even though the zipper and button on my jeans remained undone. At the same time, I thought I could steal the Genre magazine away from him, but did it really matter at this point? In fact, it occured to me, `let him find what he wants'. I had no shame.

"Wait til you get to Parke and Ronen."

"Where's that?"

I giggled, spotchecking Roberto intently searching through Genre.

"Hmm. The Asian dude is cute."

"That's what I thought about the Israeli `dude'."

"Hey, they're like us."

"How?"

"Parke's Asian and Ronen's Israeli."

I thought about it, but not too long.

"Something about your family I don't know, Roberto?"

"Like what?"

"Um, was your birth mother Chinese or something?"

"No, why?"

"You're Hispanic."

"Yeah, dah."

"Well, I'm neither Asian, nor Israeli."

"I know that, Anthony. With a name like Toricelli, how could you be?"

I wasn't getting very far with all this.

"Can we start over?"

"How far back do you want to go?"

"Maybe to where you licked the paper towel?"

After flipping through the Genre once more, he tossed it back in the glove compartment and shut it.

"There! My hands are all clean."

LIke a little kid, Roberto had to hold up his digits and prove it. Two minutes later I turned on the radio, catching Aretha singing `Respect'. Into the first lyric, Roberto took over the tuning button.

"Cool!"

Next thing to spurt out of the speaker, Wyclef Jean yelled, "Shakira, Shakira!"

I smiled, almost cracking up, as Roberto danced around in his seat, doing mostly arm movements, as if walking like an Egyptian.

Next up, he's singing, "What is love...lady don't hurt me... don't hurt me...no more"

"Hey, you know you have a good voice."

"What?"

"I said you have a good voice."

"What?"

"I said..." then the rest of my sentence came blasting out, as he turned down the loudness, "you have a good voice!"

"You don't have to yell, Anthony. But thanks."

The volume shot up and I shuddup!

Soon all that jumping around and crooning, put Roberto into the reclining mode of the bucket seat.

"It's all yours, Anthony. Let me know when we get there."

"Get where?"

"The Hyatt."

"Where is it?"

"Up the road."

"I see."

Pressing the button, my normal listening station returned.

"Hey, you like that?" He asked me.

"Yeah."

We have found something in common, as Diana Ross sang, "I'm comin' out... I want the world to know... gotta let it show..."

As I listened to the song, I thought about the last two days. I drove and drove and drove, until I came to a `T' sign.

"Yo, Roberto!"

I slapped him on the thigh.

"What?" he said, half human, half yawn.

"Which way?"

"I dunno. Miguel said keep on the road and we would come to the Hyatt."

I leaned over the wheel and looked to my left, then to the right. I ran smack dab into Roberto's face.

"Sorry," He replied.

"I'm not."

I needed to wind down, after all that straight driving. Cupping his hand behind my head, I put my lips to his.

"Oh no!"

"What?"

He pointed down at his crotch.

"I made you hard?"

"No. I gotta pee!"

I made a corporate decision, turning right.

"OOOooooh I have to go soooooo bad!"

Roberto looked like he was ready to burst any moment. As if Michael Jackson, he held his crotch tightly, groaning.

"I guess this is as good of place as any."

"Here? In plain sight?"

He convinced himself, shooting out the door of the car, slamming it shut. He ran behind a bush. While Roberto pissed his gut out, I put my hands behind my head and closed my eyes. I awoke to tapping on my window.

"Oh shit!" Rang out of my mouth.

There, standing at my window, was a man in blue. I touched the button, letting the window down.

"Problem sir?"

Looking in the window, I know he had to see my black briefs, stuck in the zipper of my jeans.

"Oh that," I jumped the gun.

"Want to step out of the car."

"What for? I haven't done anything..."

"There's laws for being indecent, in this county."

"Indecent? It's not like my.. you know what is hanging out, Officer!"

However, I figured I better humor the man. Getting out, I glanced to the side of the road. Playing it smart, I saw that Roberto had already been alerted. Hanging low, he peeked out through some twigs.

"Hands on the car."

I placed my palms on the roof of the short car.

"Spread your legs."

Good thing Roberto had at least fastened my belt or else my jeans would be at my ankles. That is if my brief's jaws gave way!

"Want to take your wallet out of your pocket, buddy?"

Buddy'? Getting kind of laxed, isn't he? I thought about it. I remember somewhere, reading about this Gaydar' stuff. I thought I'd have a poke at it!

"Not really. Would you terribly mind getting it yourself?"

I expected any minute of feeling his wrath being dealt out on me. However, I had this other strange feeling gnawing at me, too.

"Um, Uh... well... I..."

I smiled. This `Gaydar' stuff really works! Turning, I removed my hands from the car. Also, feeling a bit proud of myself, proud that I tried out this gay thing and it worked, I felt taller than my six foot stature. When I fully faced him, I saw what I truly had here, at the end of my fishing rod. Maybe the same height, broad shoulders, completely filling out the uniform, definitely a workout guy.

"Here, let me get it out for you Officer..." I leaned in, reading the metal bar, purposely moving my chin close to his face, "Adam Steel, is it?"

"Yes," he replied, slightly shaky.

"Nice name."

"Um, thanks."

The whole time, he took pot shot glances to my crotch. Suddenly, Roberto appears, to the side.

"Hey, how you doing?"

"Good," Officer Steel replied.

Roberto stood right next me. I think he sensed more than I did. At least, from his ensuing comments, it seemed that way.

"Like my friend's crotch?"

I didn't expect his direct remark.

"What are you talking about?"

`Uh-oh, we're in deep shit now'. Suddenly my Gaydar theory collapsed.

Then as if the image on Miguel, Roberto says, "You want his cock bad, don't you?"

"Roberto," I tried saying throught the corner of my mouth, strangling the words, "icksnay on the gay-snay."

This time Officer Steel said nothing. I also noticed how he began to get awfully sweaty, as if the sun bore down on us with two hundred degree temps.

Then, stepping out, to the side of us, hands on hips, he talks like Miguel would do, directing, "How long you been on the force, Adam?"

`Adam'? We're toast now. That's total disregard for the law!

But he remained casual. Shrugging his shoulders.

"Two months."

"Have you ever sucked a man's cock?"

His gaze shifted from me to Roberto.

"No," then back to my zipper, "but I..."

"You want to, don't you Adam?"

I couldn't believe Roberto. It's as if Miguel stood here with us. He was playing this cop to the hilt.

"I..."

"Say, have you got a blanket in your car, Adam?"

Looking back to Roberto, Officer Steel replies, "Yeah, I've got one."

"Why don't you get it and meet us behind that bush over there?"

"Yeah?"

As the police officer walked back to his cruiser, Roberto and I headed for the bush.

"Are you crazy?"

"Get off it, Anthony. You want Adam to suck you off as much as he wants to do it."

"But he's a cop?"

"So? What makes him different from any other gay man?"

"How do you know he's gay?"

"He wasn't wearing a wedding band and believe me. I know!"

Somehow I knew Roberto was talking straight. I felt it too, in the mental sense, as well as the physical.

"Here. Give it to me, Adam. You start taking your clothes off."

"My what?"

"Anthony, help him, will you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. Help Adam get his clothes off. I think he's a little shy."

`But why me?' I questioned myself. However, as I stood in front of the blond police officer, I felt so, soooo horny.

"Ready?" I asked him.

"I don't know about this."

As with Roberto, I began to get the bold spirit. I risked touching Adam's uniform. He watched, as I unbuttoned the top button, then the second, then third. I was down to his beltline. There was no turning back. I tugged it out, undoing the last button. Taking both sides of his shirt, I peeled it back, over his shoulders. Staring me in the face was his perfectly smoothe chest and stomach, except for the little wisps of blond hair around his nips.

"You keep in shape," I complimented him, still nervous.

"Thanks. Um, can I..."

I knew what he desired. So did Roberto. After spreading the blanket, he appeared next to me. He had stripped off his shirt.

"Nice bod. You work out, Adam?"

"Yeah."

However, Adam wasn't interested in the subject of working out, as he gazed at Roberto's front. Moving close, Roberto took Adam's hands in his and place them on his bare torso.

"Suck my nip, why don't you Adam?"

Following Roberto's lead, he got closer, cocked his head and formed his mouth over Roberto's right nips. I looked at my lover, smiling, as Adam groaned. He must've wanted this experience as bad as I wanted it to happen, leaving his gun in the cruiser. However, the little pouch an officer normal carries, with the cuffs, remained on his utility belt. I thought, `not just yet'. Deciding I was getting behind, I quickly took my shirt off. Adam caught glimpse of my hairy chest and stomach.

"Oh wow!"

"Like `em hairy, do you Adam?" Roberto asked.

Gulping, he replied, "Yeah."

"Eat his chest!"

I smiled at the way Roberto put it. He also pulled my arm back, meaning `get comfortable'. Adam followed me, as we walked back to the blanket, spread out on the ground behind the bush. More shrubs provided the perfect, elusive backdrop.

"Take your clothes off," Roberto more than suggested to Adam.

Without further ado, sitting, he untied his black boots and pulled them off.

"Don't bother getting up," Roberto told him.

By this time, I had stripped down to my briefs. Roberto, had nothing left to strip. He stood there, hands on his hips, the spitting image of his brother.

"You want cock real bad, don't you Adam?"

He licked his lips. Then he reached out, to touch Roberto's hardening artery. `Oh shit!' I thought, as he touched the tip, getting a scolding from Roberto's hand.

"But, you said."

"Where's your manners? Say please."

I stood there, frozen.

"Um... please?"

Here this cop is sitting there on the blanket, naked from the waist up, bootless, blushing as he's asking to suck Roberto's seven inch stick.

"Ready yet, Anthony?"

"Me?"

"But?" Adam questions.

"You want it all, don't you Adam?"

"All?"

"Don't play stupid, Adam. You saw us playing in the car way up the road, didn't you?"

"He did?" I asked.

"Answer me, Adam?"

With the same red face, he replied, "Um.. I guess so."

"So, you pulled us over hoping we were gay, right?"

He looked to me, then back at Roberto.

"I guess so."

"You guess?"

"Uh yeah. That's right."

"And now you want to suck cock, right?"

"Uh.. yeah."

"And you want that ass of your's fucked, right?"

Gulping, Adam replied, "I hadn't thought about that."

"But you want it, don't you, being the little faggot you are?"

I waited for his answer.

"I suppose I can try it."

He couldnt have been more than twenty-five years old. Close to our own age. He was so gorgeous, in my own, unbiased opinion. All this mention of fucking though, caused my cock to twitch like crazy, my balls churning up their ammunition. I began to get as bold as Roberto.

"Strip those pants off, Adam."

He looked at me, then went for his belt buckle, looking at it. As he undid his belt buckle, Roberto and I looked at each other, smiled, him gesturing to me to `ram it'. I wasn't too sure about that, but proceeded along, ad libbing.

"First lube him up."

I don't think Adam knew what Roberto meant. Not until he held my cock out, an eighth inch from Adam's lips. Slowly he opened. Pulling on my hard shaft, Roberto inserted it for him and me both.

"Oooooooooh!" I sighed, feeling Adam's warm mouth on me.

At the same time, Adam groaned.

"First mancock?"

"Mmmmm," Adam signified.

As Adam sucked away on my cock, Roberto knelt down on all fours. Adam stayed on me while Roberto pinned his cock and balls under the elastic waistband of his briefs. Soon he was on Adam's cock, licking his stick. Adam was in heaven. Getting closer, with my cock going further into his mouth, I suddenly felt him choking. My cock withdrew, as he coughed. Roberto popped off too. For the first time, I saw his fully erect piece of meat. It was beautiful, nestled in the bed of golden hair, big balls propped up on either side. As if a sex ed teacher, Roberto instructed him on how to deep throat.

"Ready, Adam?"

"I think."

"Magic words?"

"Um, can I please have that cock again, um..."

Roberto said, "His name is Anthony, but `sir' to you!"

"May I please have your cock, sir?"

I loved it! This cop was on his knees sucking me, bent over now on all fours, as Roberto's head lay in between his legs, sucking on his long cock. It'a then I was reminded of the little pouch, containing the cuffs. I felt powerful with them in my hands. Probably Miguel felt like this, as I put one around Adam's right wrist. He pulled off my cock and looked at me.

"You can trust us."

I know it sounded totally unrealistic, superficial, but Adam didn't say a thing, his mouth finding my cock and taking it back in, as I pulled his right arm behind his back, lifting the left and clicking the other cuff around his left wrist. After working up quite a sweat, his back reddened by the sun, sweat pouring off of his back, we had Adam switch places. Roberto lay down on the blanket, spreading his legs.

"On your knees, boy," I tested Adam.

He did what I told him, with, "Yes, sir."

With great agility, he did what Roberto ordered too, bending over and placing his mouth over my lover's hard cock, sucking away.

"Feels real good, Adam," Roberto complimented. "While you have my cock in your mouth, swirl your tongue around it.

However, when the head of my hard shaft touched his asshole, he popped off.

"Um, I think this is going to hurt, Adam. It's going to be tight going in."

He didn't reply, going back to eating Roberto's crotch out. As I warned, I did find him very tight. Probably not as tight as Roberto's hot hole. Still I had to push in hard. Unlike fucking my lover's tight hole, I worked it slowly. Then pressed hard.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkk!" He arched his back, popping off of Roberto's stick.

Panting heavily, sweating, his hair scraggily, Adam grunted, as I pressed on. For awhile, Roberto lay there. Then he sat up.

"You're doing good Adam."

Then he started making out with Adam, kissing him, Frenching him. He got under Adam, sucking him. After awhile, Adam reciprocated, bending over. They `69-ed' each other. I don't know how long we went at it. All I know is my back started to feel the burn, but my cock wasn't any different. As I rode Adam's ass, I took hold of the cuffs, using them as a catalyst. When I was ready to shoot, I pulled out and shot my load on his back. Laying back on the blanket, I recovered, as they went on a few minutes more. Soon they lay out next to me, each savoring their tasty protein meal.

After tidying up, Adam shook my hand, saying, "I'll never forget what you two did for me. It's been gnawing at me for ages."

"I know how it is," I reckoned with him, "to want to bust out be yourself. Who I was meant to be."

"Exactly," Adam sided with me. "I kind of like that `sir' stuff." Then giggling, fessed, "I can't believe I let you put my own cuffs on me. What a stupid, dangerous thing!"

Roberto confides, "But here you are, all dressed, back together again, all in one piece... except maybe your ass a little wider?"

We all laughed. Before departing, Adam took my telephone number, promising to come visit us, as soon as he got a vacation.

"All I want to know is how come I got a handshake and you got a kiss?"

"You were too busy fucking him, while I made out."

"True, but at least he could have given me a hug."

"I suppose. Do you think he'll really come visit us, Anthony?"

"Do you want him to?"

Roberto smiled, replying, "He was a good kisser."

"Plus, I didn't see you spitting out his `protein'!"

As Adam sped past us, he put on a display of lights and sirens for us, waving.

%

Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.

Next: Chapter 4: Cash N Dash


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