That’s my Job
By:
Brian Holliday
(© 2010-2019 by the author)
Editor:
Rockhunter
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's
consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Streetlights were coming on as I left the apartment building; last call of the day, thank God. My partner had bugged out early when I said I could handle this one alone. Boy, had I been right. My supervisor had a good laugh when I called it in.
A beat cop was walking toward me. His collar was loose and his tie was missing. I figured he must be off shift, too.
“That your ambulance?” he called.
“Yeah, sure. Is there a problem?”
“You’re blocking the hydrant.” He aimed his chin at the yellow painted hunk of metal near my bumper.
“So?” I was irritated. “It’s not like I was paying a lot of attention when I parked. Some dog complain to you?”
He frowned. I noticed his eyes drifted below my belt before he yanked them back up. “Call couldn’t have been too serious. You’re alone.”
I shook my head. I would have just got in and drove off, but he was kind of cute, a little taller than me but maybe around the same age, all rigged out in that nice clean uniform. Made my whites look bad, especially at the end of the day. I’d spilled some antiseptic on my sleeve and there was a dime-sized drop of dried blood on my shoe from that guy with the broken nose. Oh well, hazards of the job. Besides, that look of his made me wonder. Was he interested in how I parked, or…?
“OK, if you need my life story… mom thought her kid drank some window cleaner or something. Turned out it was just one of those energy drinks. Kid’s fine, but she and dad are driving him to the hospital, just to be sure.” I waved at the man and woman headed for the parking lot towing their four year old. The boy grinned and flipped me off… kids today. Little fucker’s mouth was still blue.
I turned back to the cop. “So, why you taking time out of your busy criminal-catching day to hassle me…” I noticed his nameplate, “Officer C. Mallory?”
“Charlie.” He watched the citizens as they stuffed junior into a minivan. “I was walking home from the station and saw you run in,” he said. “Thought you might need some help.” He glanced back at me, tried a smile. Damn, he had nice blue eyes.
“Sure,” I said. “So you waited right here on the curb. Real helpful.”
“I was on my way in when you came out.” He undid the next button on his shirt, looked down at my nameplate. “J. Peterson. What’s the ‘J’ for?”
“Just call me Pete.” No way was I telling him my name was Julius. “Say, officer.” I smiled, looked him up and down. Flat belly, broad shoulders, just my type. “Where do cops go when they get off… work?”
He grinned back, giving me a little jolt where it counts. “Depends. What about EMT’s?”
“There’s a place or two I like.” I unlocked the van’s passenger door. “I’m headed for Joe’s Grill now. You’re welcome to tag along.”
“Hey, why not? Never rode in the front of one of these.” He climbed in. Sure had a nice ass.
I got in the driver’s side and watched him buckle his seatbelt. I measured the distance across the console and wished the van had a bench seat. Charlie checked out the interior, admired all the bells and whistles, and turned to check me out, too. He winked. “All set.”
“OK,” I said, and put the big van in gear. “Don’t even think about trying the siren, and keep your hand off the stick – while I’m driving, anyway.”
He laughed, pulled his baton out of its holster and stroked his fist up and down the thing a couple times before stowing it under the seat with his equipment belt. “I’ll try to remember that.” My cock twitched.
The bar wasn’t busy on a Thursday night, just a few cars in the lot. I parked way in back and jumped out, stopped to peel off my stained jacket. The t-shirt underneath was still clean and tight, just the way I like them. The cop seemed to appreciate that, if his leer meant anything. I flexed my biceps and pecs a little, proud of the work I did to keep in shape for the job – and for other things. “Looks like a good idea,” he said, and pulled off his shirt. His undershirt was white, too, and the way it bulged made me think he worked out, too. He took off his cap and tossed it on the seat. “Let’s go in. I’m thirsty.”
A couple of beers and a burger later, I was feeling pretty good. Charlie leaned back in the booth and sipped at his latest brew. “You like being a cop?” I asked.
One of his feet found mine under the table. “It has its moments,” he replied. “You like what you do, Pete?”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of stupid stuff and some false alarms, like tonight, but most of the time I feel like I make a difference. That’s what we all want, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. But it’s not all we want, is it?” He had the hottest eyes I’d seen in a while, and his black buzz cut and end-of-shift stubble made me wonder where else he was hairy. His nipples pushed the knit fabric of his shirt up into two little points. I shifted to adjust my cock.
Charlie finished his last fry and pushed the plastic basket aside. “You want anything else,” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Nah,” I said, concentrating on the feel of his hard-soled shoe on my calf. “I’m good.”
“Prove it.” He smiled a little, eyes half-closed.
I grinned and stood up, thinking it was a good idea to leave now, before my half-hard got much harder. I was sure Charlie’s crotch had a bigger bulge than I remembered.
We walked back to the ambulance faster than we left it. Charlie stood close while I unlocked the door.
“You always drive the same van?” His voice was husky now.
“Nah,” I said. “Whichever one’s available, they’re all pretty much the same.” My mind was so not on work. Charlie walked around and tried to look in the rear windows, but they were painted over.
“What all’s in the back?” He looked at me and grinned.
A light bulb went on in my head. “You wanna see?”
“Show me.”
The stretcher’s sheet was clean since I didn’t need it for my last call. Every bit of space had its use, from the gooseneck lamp mounted over the cot to the equipment and medication storage spaces on the walls. “Can I get a closer look?” he asked.
I nodded and ran a palm over his ass as he climbed in. I followed, just in case he needed any help finding things. The doors closed behind us and I thumbed the lock.
He sat on the edge of the cot and slipped off his shoes. They thumped to the floor one by one and I kicked them under the cot along with my own. Lights from the parking lot shown dimly through the windshield. We didn’t bother with the lamp.
“Kinda convenient back here.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head. His chest was furry and a dark trail ran south from his navel. He reached for my hips, undid my belt and pants button, then pushed me away and lay back on the little pillow.
“Yeah, lots more room than a patrol car.” I leaned forward to run a hand over his chest, the curly hairs rough against my skin. I rubbed each hot, hard nipple with my palm and he moaned, low in his throat.
“You like that, huh, Charlie?” I asked.
“Yeah, man,” he sighed. “More.”
I took a nipple in my mouth, rolled it against my tongue, scraped it a little with my teeth. He arched his back, groaned. I bit the other one, harder this time. His back came off the mattress. “Mmm… yeah. So good…”
My cock felt like it was in a vise. I unzipped and let my pants fall to the floor. I ripped off the boxer-briefs underneath, too. God knows where they went. My dick sprang out straight, pointed at Charlie like the needle on a compass. A long string of precum drooled from the piss-slit.
Charlie reached out and grabbed me. I was paralyzed while he stroked, then raised up to take my dong in his hot mouth. “Aw… Jesus… “ I managed. The cocksucker knew what he was doing.
I pulled away. Had to or it would all be over in a minute. I pushed him back and got his pants off, tossed his jockstrap into the front seat. He reached down to stroke his hard cock, but I pushed his hand away and sucked it in, swirled my tongue around the big mushroom. He groaned and put a hand on the back of my head, his hips thrust to fuck my face. I let him slide into my throat until I could feel his pubes scratch at my lips, and then swallowed on it a couple times. “Ohhhh… “ he moaned, loud and long. “Oh, yeah, buddy, suck that cock. Mmmmm… “
I took his hairy balls in one hand, felt for his hole with the other. He was sweaty and slick and my finger slipped right in. He moaned louder when I wiggled the finger around, shivered and shook when I found his love nut.
I pulled off his prick and spit on my fingers, pushed two into him this time. His chute opened up and sucked the fingers in and he pushed his ass against my hand, begging for more.
I squeezed his balls, weighed them in my palm. The skin on his thighs was smooth and I liked the way his muscles moved as he writhed and stretched. I rubbed a hand over his belly - enjoyed the feel of him - and he grabbed it, sucked a finger into his mouth and bit the knuckle gently.
“Hey,” he groaned. “I need it bad, buddy. You gonna help me out?”
“That’s my job, man.” I panted. “That’s my job.”
He grabbed his legs and I pulled his hips almost off the cot, stopped for a good look at his pulsing pink rosebud. Then I found a condom and a couple packets of KY on a shelf and slathered one packet on my throbbing dick, emptied the other in my hand and worked it into his hole.
His ass did its best to take all my fingers, but I rolled on the condom and fed it my thick meat instead, shoved the head in with one motion. He let out a cry like half a scream, so I waited a second before pushing in a little more. “You OK?” I gritted.
“Yeah,” he panted. “Yeah. Just don’t stop.”
I backed off and thrust in again and he pushed back. Damn, he was so fucking tight and hot. He let go of his legs and wrapped them around me, pulled me all the way in. I bent down and bit one of his nipples hard, then the other, while he threw his head back and moaned. Then I grabbed his hips and pounded his ass.
He was stroking his own cock in time to my thrusts when I felt my balls crawl up and start to churn. “Oh, man,” I said. “I can’t hold it, I’m gonna blow.”
“Me, too,” he whimpered. “Let it go, man.”
My whole body went into spasms, jerked once, twice, again and again until I forgot to count. Charlie’s cum splattered his face and chest.
“Jesus.” I sighed and folded over on top of him. My prick slowly softened until it plopped out. “What a ride.”
Charlie chuckled and his hand came up to ruffle my hair. “Thanks, Pete. Fuck, I needed that!”
I’d just recovered enough to knot the condom and toss it in the waste can, wipe us both down with a towel, when there was pounding on the back of the van, and a loud voice yelled, “What’s going on in there?” I grabbed my pants and shirt and pulled them on quick, threw a sheet over Charlie as I hurried to unlock the double door. I opened it a crack and there stood a beat cop – another one! This guy was maybe fifty with a few extra beers around his middle, but his eyes were sharp. He stopped pounding the door with his Billy club but kept it ready in his hand. I swallowed hard.
“Yes, officer?” He tried to see around me, but I made my body fill the whole space.
“Just wondering why an ambulance was bouncing around like that. What the hell were you doing back here?”
I licked my lips. “Uh, emergency call. Somebody found a drunk in the parking lot. Poor bastard. Had to pump, his uh… stomach.” Behind me, Charlie made a choking noise.
“That him?” the cop asked.
“Yes, sir. Now that I’m done, uh… pumping, I should really get him back to the hospital. To a doctor, you know?”
“Right. Just thought I’d better check. This ain’t the best neighborhood. Lots of strange things happen around here.” He tried for one more look, then turned to go as I got out quick, slammed the door and headed around to the front, hoping my zipper was up. Where in hell were the keys?
I started the van with the spare from under the dash and pulled out of the spot. The officer watched as I drove away. I just hoped he couldn’t hear Charlie laughing his ass off. Fuckin’ cops.
“You ever been in jail, Pete?”
We were lying on the couch, head to foot or, should I say, cock to mouth. Charlie had just swallowed the last of my cum and I was still savoring a mouthful of his, so the question came out of left field.
“Huh?” I said. Charlie’s a cop, and I’m an EMT, but I had yet to ask him if he’d ever been run over by a truck. Of course, we didn’t know each other that well.
“You heard me.”
“No, man, I’ve never been in jail and I never want to be. I’ve seen enough cop shows to know what happens in there. Just in case you’re wondering, I like my asshole just the size it is now, thanks.” What a fucking stupid question.
“Oh, come on, Pete. You get so excited over nothing.”
“You didn’t complain when I got excited about your dick a minute ago, and that’s next to nothing.”
After we finished wrestling around on the floor of my apartment, best two falls out of three - I won by squeezing his balls till he hollered - Charlie got right back to his subject.
“OK, you haven’t been in jail. Have you ever been arrested?”
“For what… speeding on the way to the hospital?”
“For anything! Man, you’re tough to talk to… ”
“So? Shut up and come here.” All that wrestling had got me hot again, and it took Charlie half an hour to cool me down.
So, we were panting and sweating on my bed - king-size mattress on a heavy brass frame - and damn if he doesn’t start up again.
“Look, Pete, don’t get me wrong… I really like all the sex we’ve had. But I was just thinking – I mean… I’m a cop and all – let’s try something a little different.”
Before I could go for his balls again, he got me in a hammer-lock and explained.
“How about, next time I come over, I wear my uniform and we try out the handcuffs and baton?”
Hell, I couldn’t believe it. I’d had sex twice in the last couple of hours, and I was getting hard again.
“Who’d wear the handcuffs?” I asked, cautiously.
Charlie said, “Umm… “ Then he saw the look in my eyes and said, “OK, you can handcuff me the first time. But then I get a turn… OK?”
I told him that sounded fair. Shit, when I was a kid I always wanted to be a cop… or a house painter.
Next Friday night was it, and Charlie arrived right on time, his uniform pressed and his badge shiny. I’d looked around for a criminal outfit, but hey, they wear anything, so I went with a t-shirt and jeans. I didn’t plan to have them on for long.
I slammed the door and, just to make the kidnap thing realistic, I bent down, threw Charlie over my shoulder and high-tailed it for the bedroom. I shoved the cat out of my way and, before Charlie knew what hit him, I’d tossed him on the bed and stuffed a sock in his mouth. (Hey, I told you I watched a lot of cop shows.) Charlie had told me he didn’t like cats much. That was OK. Most days I didn’t like the cat either, and I was pretty sure he could take me or leave me.
Charlie’s eyes got big when I grabbed the cuffs off his belt and closed them on one of his wrists, then the other, after passing the chain through the pipes on the brass headboard. I grinned. I hoped Charlie was getting what he wanted. Maybe he hadn’t bargained on me carrying people around for a living.
That done, I pulled the baton out of its belt holster. It was black painted metal, maybe eighteen inches long, an inch around, and smooth as glass. I held it where Charlie could see it and stroked my fist up and down it a few times, then rubbed it across his lips. “Whatcha think, big guy?” I said. “You wonder if I know what this is for?” He said something, but with the sock in his mouth it didn’t sound like much.
I didn’t think Charlie would kick me, but I got up and sat on his legs anyway, just in case. I tied a rolled-up bandana around his mouth to keep the sock in. Then I started to unbutton his shirt, real slow. I was hard as a rock by that time, and I had to stop to unbutton my fly and let little Pete out for some air.
Charlie whimpered. “What’s the matter, baby?” I gave my cock a few strokes. “You want some of this? Well, maybe later. Right now, I got things to do.”
I unbuttoned his shirt all the way down, pulled it out of his pants and laid it back. His nipples were making hard points, and I bent down and licked each one until you could see their little brown circles through the wet cloth of his t-shirt, then I bit one. Charlie bucked up like a bronco at that, and he did it again when I bit the other one. “You like that, don’t you, Mister Policeman. Let’s see what else you like.” I leaned up and nibbled one ear lobe, then bit down hard. Charlie moaned.
I leaned back, rubbing my dripping cock against Charlie’s abs. Man, I wanted to see that hairy chest and feel it against my prick. His damn shirt was too tight to pull up though, and that stopped me until I went to the kitchen and found the scissors. A little cut and the shirt ripped all the way up. I licked and bit Charlie’s hairy pecs while he thrashed around. Then it was time to get down to business.
I got off the bed and slipped off my jeans and t-shirt, making sure Charlie was watching. Then I untied Charlie’s shiny black shoes and dropped them on the floor. His socks came next. I’d never paid much attention to his feet, but I grabbed one and rubbed the sole with my fist. Charlie curled up his toes and tried to pull away, but I held on and sucked the big toe into my mouth, running my tongue around on it like it was something else. Charlie’s eyes closed. I thought I’d better remember that trick for later.
By this time, Charlie’s prong was making a ridge down his thigh with a big wet spot at the tip. I loosened his belt and undid the button and zipper. Charlie lifted his hips and let me slide his pants down and off, tossing them over my shoulder. They must have hit the dresser because I heard all kinds of things falling. Charlie’s boxer briefs held his cock down his right leg, and I stopped to admire it. No matter how I teased him about it, it was a nice cock and plenty big enough for me. I bent and nibbled up the inside of his hairy thigh, stopping before I got too close. Charlie raised his hips and made a noise, but I didn’t pay any attention, just went back to his other leg and nibbled my way up there, too. Precum was pouring out of his cock, making a little puddle on the sheet. Mine was in the same condition, drooling all over Charlie’s thighs and belly. Charlie’s eyes were pleading with me and I thought, ‘what the hell’.
I eased his briefs off over that hot piece of meat and it sprang up to point at his navel. My cock was so hard it hurt, but there was still one thing I had to do. I grabbed the Billy club and pushed Charlie’s knees against his chest. His hole was winking at me. “OK, Mister Policeman, I hope you’re ready,” I said, holding up the big black stick so he could see it. His eyes were like saucers now, and I didn’t let him know I’d dipped the end into some lube. Hey, we were just pretending, after all.
The slick metal went in with only a little push and I had six inches in before I knew it. Charlie groaned, and I figured I’d hit his button. I drew the thing back, smooth and easy, and shoved it in again. Damn, it was intense. Watching that shiny black tube slide in and out of his hot little hole made me even hotter. I had to clench hard before I shot off right then and there.
I figured I wouldn’t last much longer, and Charlie was throwing his head from side to side like he does when he gets real excited. I pushed the baton in one more time for good measure, and wiggled it around some, then pulled it out and rolled a condom on my prick as quickly as I could.
Charlie’s hole was plenty slick, and his chute opened and gobbled up my meat clear down to the balls. I held still a second, trying to catch my breath, but Charlie wouldn’t have it. He started moving his hips up to meet me, his cock bouncing up and down on his belly. I gave in and started pounding him for all I was worth, our bodies sliding wetly against each other, my balls slapping his ass, sweat pouring off me and onto Charlie’s chest and abs. Charlie’s head thrashed back and forth until the gag fell out of his mouth. All of a sudden, I felt lava boil up from my balls and down my tube, and then Charlie erupted, screaming, “Fucking Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” I went off then, and thought I’d never stop shooting. It came all the way up from my toes.
So, after a while, I lift my head and look around, and I’m lying on Charlie’s wet and sticky chest, and both of us are drenched with sweat and cum. Charlie’s eyes open and he gives me this big, stupid grin.
“Was that great, or what?”
I had to admit that he might have had a pretty good idea. I rolled over beside him, and just lay there for a minute, wondering if I could stand up.
Then I hear the cuffs rattle against the headboard and Charlie says, “Get me out of these things, OK? I have to take a piss.”
“Sure,” I said, propping up on one elbow. “Where are the keys?”
My cat is crazy. Maybe it’s my fault for getting him, because I knew he was fixed when he came from the pound, and that’s got to mess a guy up, right? So maybe because he can’t go out on the town and fuck whatever kind of other cat might have made his tail twitch, he just sits around the apartment thinking of ways to give me hell. He’s big and brown and striped and when I adopted him they told me his name was Fuzzy. What kind of a name is that for a tomcat, even when he’s had the tom parts removed? All he had left below his tail was a little furry sack, so I called him Fuzzballs. Yeah, I know. Shut up.
I looked all over for those damned keys, which Charlie said were small and silver and on their own ring and had been in his pants pocket, where they were not, now. Charlie’s wallet, and his car keys and a bunch of change, were on the floor in front of my dresser. Nothing else was there except Fuzzballs, sitting in the doorway, one hind foot in the air, licking his ass.
Houston, we have a problem.
Now, if you ever had a cat, you know they’re not like Lassie… they aren’t going to fetch and bring you whatever it is you think you need. It doesn’t matter if you yell, or throw a pair of black policeman’s socks at them, or chase them down the hall. All they’re gonna do is hide until it suits them to come out, and then maybe cough up a hairball in your cereal.
In the meantime, Charlie was yelling at me. I came back and stood and looked at him.
“Haven’t you got a hairpin or something?” he said.
I ran a hand through my inch-long gelled spikes. “Sorry, honey, I must have left them in my purse.”
“Well, you must have a piece of wire around somewhere.” I did, but the bent coat hanger was too big to go in the keyhole, and the clip on my pen broke off inside the lock.
“Oh, man,” Charlie said. “I really gotta piss!”
Well, it wasn’t the first time I’d held his dick but, if you ever have to do that, make sure you use something deeper than a salad bowl.
After I mopped things up, I stood and looked at Charlie. “You got any suggestions?”
“Jeez, I guess I could call one of my buddies and have him get a spare key from the station, but I’d never hear the end of it. Besides, you broke the damn pen in the lock!”
After we’d argued about that for a while longer, Charlie asked if I had any ideas.
“One, maybe,” I said. And I called Jason.
Jason is a good guy. He and I have been buddies since we trained together as paramedics. After that, I stayed with the hospital and he went a different direction – going on to become a firefighter. Jason was straight, but he knew I wasn’t, and he’d told me enough of his secrets so that I could trust him with one more of mine. I figured if anyone could get Charlie out of those cuffs, it would be Jason.
I lucked out and got him on his cell, and in ten minutes Jason arrived and joined me next to the bed. He raised his head and sniffed hard. Couldn’t blame him, the room reeked of sex.
“Damn,” he said, looking at Charlie, arms cuffed over his head and still mostly naked, except I’d thrown a sheet over him. “You guys do this kind of thing a lot?”
I shook my head. “First time for me.” Charlie just looked away, his face red as a fire truck.
“Huh,” Jason said, and walked over to bang on the brass pipes of the headboard. “I always was curious about what two guys did. Now I guess I know.”
Charlie struggled to keep his cool. “Say man, can you help me out?”
Jason nodded and paced back and forth a couple of steps. “Maybe so. I gotta look things over here, never seen a situation quite like this one before.”
It seemed to me that Jason’s pants were getting a little tighter in the crotch. We’d showered together, but I’d never seen him with a hard-on. Always wanted to, though… I walked over and twitched the sheet off Charlie. “See, this is one hell of a problem, Jase. Think you can do anything about it?”
Jason smiled. “I think a hacksaw would cut through those pipes, but it would be a shame to ruin the headboard. I might have a pipe wrench that would work, but I’d have to go get my toolbox…”
“Can you do it or not?” Charlie was running out of patience. He noticed Jason staring at his dick, so he turned away as much as he could. That, of course, gave Jason a view of his ass… Charlie has a nice ass.
“Sure, I do things like this all the time…“ Jason said. “Get people out of sticky situations and stuff. After all… that’s my job. I’m just having a little trouble concentrating right now…”
Charlie twisted around and gave me a really dirty look. “I thought you were straight!” he said to Jason.
“I am,” Jason said. “It’s just that my girlfriend’s out of town… “
“I think we can work something out,” I told him. “And, Charlie, just remember… this started out as your idea.”
I’m kind of hoping that Charlie wants to play cops and robbers again real soon. Jason says he hopes so, too. I’m not so sure about letting Charlie handcuff me though. After all, it worked so well the way we did it the first time, why mess with perfection?
Charlie says give him a week or two, at least. Somebody told his captain that Charlie was walking funny while on his beat the next day. I told Charlie not to worry, he’d get used to it.
And damn if Fuzzballs didn’t jump up and drop those handcuff keys right there on my chest the next morning. Stupid cat. At least it beats the mouse he brought me last week.
It had been a good day for an EMT. Nobody died, at least not while they were in my ambulance, and one person actually thanked me after I got his wife safely to the hospital. So I was in a good mood when my cell phone buzzed. Charlie’s face lit up the screen and I gotta admit I was glad to see him… until he started whining.
“C’mon, Pete! You promised!”
Well, I didn’t think I’d actually promised, but I guess Charlie had a point; it was my turn to wear the handcuffs. We both had the same night off again, which happened about once every couple of weeks and Charlie liked my king-sized bed, so we were going back to my place. (His bed was queen-sized… but we won’t go there.)
I didn’t want to let on, but the handcuff idea kind of scared me. I never liked feeling helpless or out of control. I had an idea that Charlie was going to want to fuck me, and I hadn’t let that happen very often. I just hoped to hell he knew what he was doing. Maybe he’d learned something from my good example.
Charlie showed up in jeans and a T-shirt, no cop uniform tonight, but freshly showered and shaved. I’d gone through the same routine when I got home, plus picking up the apartment a little and changing the sheets. He had a pizza box in one hand and a bunch of daisies in the other.
“Flowers?” I said. “What the hell, Charlie? You got the wrong place? I think your girlfriend lives two doors down.”
“Come on, Pete. Guys can like flowers, too.” He headed into the kitchen. “You got a vase?”
I stuck the flowers in a plastic milk jug and left them on the kitchen table. With luck, Fuzzballs the cat would eat them.
I suppose Charlie was just trying to be nice. I guess it shows just how uptight I was about the whole handcuff thing. No way did I want Charlie thinking of me as the girl.
So we ate pizza and drank a few beers, and when I finished my third one I noticed Charlie staring at me with this look on his face. “Okay,” I said, “let’s get this over with.” And we went into the bedroom.
There had been a little problem with the keys to the handcuffs the first time Charlie wore them, so I told him he’d better stash the keys in the drawer of my nightstand. Then I looked to make sure they were really in there. Think I’m paranoid? Next time you wear the handcuffs.
So finally, there we were on the bed, naked, me flat on my back with my arms stretched over my head, the cuffs attached to my wrists and the headboard, my ass propped up on a pillow, and damned if Charlie doesn’t push my knees up to my chest and start to lick my asshole.
Yeah, I know, guys do that all the time. I read about it on Nifty. Perfectly normal… but it never happened to me before, see?
For a minute I couldn’t decide how I felt about it, whether it was great, or tickled, or just felt plain weird. Then it occurred to me—this was Charlie, my hot cop fuck-buddy, between my legs with his tongue in my ass! And, from that moment on, I was hard as a rock.
And he kept at it, first just licking all around, and then nibbling on my butt cheeks, and finally sticking his tongue into my hole, as far as it would go, which was pretty far. By the time he stuck a finger inside, I was thrashing around and making all kinds of noises that I never heard anybody make before. Charlie raised up and looked at my face. His eyes had gone dark and his mouth was half open. His expression was so damn sexy it made my cock jump. “You like that, baby?” He asked in a deep hoarse voice, as he wiggled his finger around in my ass. About then he hit my button and the only answer I could give him was a groan.
Charlie pulled his finger out, which made me groan again in protest, held up two fingers where I could see them, sucked on them, and then stuck both fingers back inside my ass. There was enough precum on my belly to lube six assholes by then, and Charlie pulled out his fingers after a minute and rubbed them in it, then stuck three digits inside. Charlie has big hands, but those fingers were not enough. I felt so open by that time you could have driven a Mack truck up there, and I wished someone would. Charlie must have gotten the message because he got up on his knees and looked down at me. “You ready, Pete?” He asked.
“Damn,” I panted out, “I been ready. Hurry the fuck up!”
Charlie grinned and rolled on a condom, then leaned over and I felt the blunt head of his prick at my back door. Charlie’s not the best endowed guy in the world, but when his tool slid home it felt fine. He began to move in and out and each stroke hit me in all the right places. The head of his prick on my prostate sent little lightning bolts all the way up my spine until my brain was on fire. It felt so good I couldn’t help but raise my hips to meet him, and I would have grabbed his ass and pulled him in farther if not for being trussed up in those damned handcuffs!
As it was, Charlie took his time. He’d thrust in hard and fast for a minute or two, until I was right on the edge, and then he’d back off and just lay there, barely moving at all. Every time he stopped I’d swear and yell, but he’d just grin, like torturing me was the most fun he’d ever had. After the fifth or sixth time of that, I lost it and started to beg. “Please, Charlie,” I said, “don’t stop. Fuck me harder, man. Give me that big cock!” Which was an exaggeration, but damn I wanted to come so bad!
I needed to grab my dick and I couldn’t, so I yanked on those cuffs until my wrists started to hurt and the brass headboard rang like a gong. I opened my eyes and Charlie was grinning down at me like a son-of-a-bitch and then he really started to pound me. It felt so fucking good I let out a howl and then there was only the sounds of our heavy breathing and the wet slap of hot sweaty skin on skin.
An electric sizzle built up in my guts, getting stronger and stronger and all of a sudden it flowed right up through my prick and cum shot out like a fire hose. Spunk went all over my face and chest. Hell, I think some of it hit the wall behind the bed. My ass spasmed around Charlie’s cock and he let out a yell, and I swear I felt him spurt as he unloaded inside me. “Pete,” he said, “oh, fuck, Pete!”
Well, we were both out of it for a while after that. Handcuffs or no, I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to, and Charlie just lay on top of me and moaned.
After a long while Fuzzballs jumped up on the bed and began to sniff around. Charlie muttered something about claws in his back and I opened my eyes and stretched. My asshole was kind of sore, but man I felt great, you know?
Charlie sat up, got the keys out of the drawer and unlocked me so I could feed the cat. He dumped the cuffs and keys back in the drawer instead of his pants pocket, and I wondered if he thought we might use them again tonight.
I also wondered how hard Charlie would have to work to convince me to be the one to wear them. Not very hard, I decided. Funny how your mind can change like that.
“Geez,” I said, dumping tuna crunchies into the cat’s bowl. “I never came without somebody touching my cock before.” Charlie just looked at me and grinned, but in kind of a proud way that didn’t make me want to slug him… too much.
There was still some pizza left and we had a couple more slices and another beer, both of us still naked, but hey, my apartment is on the second floor so who was gonna see? I couldn’t help but notice how good Charlie looked, even with pizza sauce in his chest hairs.
Now, you gotta understand that I am in no way a romantic, so I was kind of shocked when I heard myself say these fateful words: “Uh… Charlie… you wanna stay over?”
Shocked me even worse when he gave this big shit-eating grin and said, “Yeah.” We both stopped and kind of looked at each other, wary-like, but then there we were, committed.
I needed a shower to wash the cum out of my hair, and it seemed logical to ask Charlie to share it, like, to save water and all. We started out just lathering our own selves, but then Charlie grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed my back and I had to return the favor. By the time we were out and dried off, we were both hard again.
Our eyes kind of met in the bathroom mirror. Little by little we each moved closer, then Charlie shut his eyes and then I did too and our lips came together.
Out of everything that happened tonight, that might have been the most shocking, because we kissed and kept on kissing and I don’t know how long it was before we stopped and just stood there in a clinch, his arms over my shoulders and mine around his waist and our erections rubbing against each other. We kissed again on the way to the bedroom, flopped down and morphed into a sixty-nine without even talking about it.
This time it was slow, but still really good. I just had enough strength left to kiss Charlie again before we pulled up the sheet and passed out, still wrapped in each other’s arms.
I don’t know what woke me, but the room was pitch dark and quiet. Then it came again – a kind of glassy tinkle and then a scrape like an opening window.
I’d almost forgotten Charlie was there in the bed with me, but then I felt him sit up and it all came back. “Wha…?” I said, and Charlie put a hand over my mouth.
That’s when I saw a flashlight beam, and then someone was standing in the door to the bedroom. My brain went into overdrive and all I could think about was how the hell had he climbed up the fire escape without us hearing and then the flashlight was in my eyes.
“Whatta we got here?” said this slimy little voice, “I don’t fucking believe it… faggots!” The guy laughed and flipped on the bedroom light switch.
He was a skinny little fucker with a dirty ski mask over his face, and it pissed me off that he was standing there in my bedroom in the middle of the night. Charlie’s hand had slipped down off my mouth and I opened it and said, “What the fuck do you think you’re…” And then I saw the gun.
It wasn’t like Charlie’s revolver; it was small and kind of square and black, and the hole in the muzzle moved to point right at me.
“So, girls,” the little rat said, taking a step closer. “Which one of you is the wife?” And he started to laugh. “I think we ought to have a little fun before I see what you got in this dump worth stealing.”
Charlie didn’t say anything, but I felt him stiffen behind me as the gunman walked closer, his eyes fixing on my chest and belly, bare because we’d kicked the covers to the floor. Fuck, why was he looking at me like that instead of Charlie? One ass-fuck and I’ve got a sign on my forehead?
“Turn over,” the guy says to me, and I’m thinking he’s going to have to shoot me first, then he takes one more step, stumbles, and I hear a yowl and Fuzzballs goes running for cover, his tail as big as a pine tree.
The guy’s gun wavers and he stumbles again and almost goes down, and Charlie is up like a flash. One kick from him, like Walker the fucking Ranger from Texas, and the little twerp’s gun goes flying into the closet. I sit up, and there’s Charlie, kneeling on the guy with one of the guy’s hands twisted up behind his back. The little man’s swearing up a storm.
“Hey, Pete,” Charlie calls, “toss me the handcuffs.” And I know right where to find them.
The asshole was even uglier after Charlie pulled off his mask, but he shut up when Charlie told him he could tell all the other guys in lockup about how he was arrested by a fag. I offered to dial 911, but Charlie decided to call some of his buddies at the station instead, and three of them were there in nothing flat. We barely had time to throw on our jeans.
Charlie let them in, telling them what happened in cop lingo, talking about 457’s and perps and other stuff like that. They all kind of looked at me, and I stepped up and said I sure was glad that Charlie was too drunk to drive home, and had passed out at my place after we hit the bars together. Charlie stood tall then and introduced me as his best friend. It wasn’t a declaration of love or anything, but it was a start.
The cops milled around a while, looking at the broken window in the kitchen, and the daisies in the milk jug, and I went and knocked out the rest of the broken glass with a hammer, swept up, and then covered the hole with a piece of plywood left over from when I built the window seat for Fuzzballs.
Finally they hauled off the asshole burglar, not swearing anymore but still wearing Charlie’s handcuffs, with a promise they’d return them tomorrow. He saw the guys out the door, laughing nervously when they asked if he thought he’d need the cuffs again tonight. Then we were alone.
Charlie looked at me, and I looked at him. I knew what he was thinking. Were we outed? I didn’t know about Charlie, but I couldn’t manage to give a fuck.
“Hey,” I said, walking up and running a finger down the middle of his chest in what I hoped was a sexy way, “You really are a cop, huh, Charlie?”
He grinned. “Yeah, that’s my job, lover.” He stared at me with those hot eyes and that made me remember how good he could make me feel.
Lover, huh? I could deal with that. Pushing Fuzzballs off my pillow, where he was busy licking the paw the burglar had stepped on, I lifted the sheet. “Come on, lover. Let’s go back to bed.”
Fixing that broken window could definitely wait until tomorrow.
“Pete,” Charlie said, out of nowhere, “how many other guys are you fucking?”
He didn’t sound uptight or anything, just interested, and it was midnight and I was relaxed because we’d been in bed for about four hours and hadn’t been to sleep yet, so I answered him. “You’re the only one in the bed, asshole.”
His suddenly raised knee did its best to connect with my balls, but he missed. I didn’t think his heart had really been in it, anyway.
“I’m serious, Pete,” he said, after I’d wrestled him down and was sitting on his chest, my cock half-hard again and aimed at his mouth.
He hadn’t fought me all that much, and the look in his eyes was one of his serious ones. He raised his head up and kissed the tip of my prick - which felt good, but I thought was kind of silly. Then his lips bent in that one-sided smile of his and my heart took a flip-flop in my chest.
I rolled off him and studied the ceiling, thinking about the Cubs game until everything settled down. Then I said it: “None. How about you?”
I didn’t mind telling him he was the only one; I guess I just didn’t want to hear his answer to the same question. I’d met a few of his cop buddies, and I was sure at least two were gay, but gay or straight, who wouldn’t go for a roll in the hay with Charlie if they got the chance?
Charlie’s hand came over and stroked down my arm as he said, “You’re it, Pete.”
I blinked. Really?
After our first go at kissing, we’d kept that as part of our relationship. It mostly made the sex better for me, and Charlie didn’t seem to have any complaints, so I leaned over and kissed him, hard, which led to more fun things.
Laying there afterwards, Charlie snoring next to me, I felt relieved. More than that, I felt happy. Charlie said I was his one and only and he was mine and I was happy. That must mean something.
But what?
It was right after that I asked him to move in. It seemed the smart thing to do. If he was living with me, he wouldn’t be as tempted to go out without me and maybe find someone he liked better and I wouldn’t have to find a new fuck buddy - or that’s how I thought about it at the time.
He’d been living in a studio apartment in a low-end part of town, though I knew he could have afforded better, and he spent most nights at my place anyway.
Why shouldn’t we be roommates?
Pure logic, right?
We didn’t go to the bar as much, living together, or out to eat either, since Charlie was a pretty good cook, so we were saving money. I’m not sure if I ever felt sensible before, except maybe on the job, but it didn’t feel bad. In fact, it felt pretty good.
Of course, having Charlie in my bed each night was a major benefit too.
I’d met Charlie’s mom and stepdad, Melody and Arthur, when they invited Charlie and me over for dinner, and they seemed nice, even if she was a Unitarian minister. After all my years in Catholic school, religion of any kind gave me the pip.
Arthur sold real estate, and when he started talking about houses big enough for a family, I asked to use their bathroom and didn’t return until the discussion turned to baseball. What the hell. Hadn’t they figured out that two gay roommates don’t equal grandchildren?
My mom was safely far away in Florida, so that was good. She wouldn’t be welcoming her gay son’s boyfriend into her home anytime soon. She lived about six blocks from my sister, my idiot brother-in-law, and their three below-average kids. I didn’t envy any of them. Besides, they’d probably go out of their way to tell everyone my first name was Julius.
And then I caught myself. Boyfriend. Was Charlie my boyfriend?
Wow. I’d been sexually active since I was sixteen and had gone through a lot of guys, but never had a relationship that lasted longer than a couple weeks - mostly just a night or two.
Maybe Charlie and I weren’t just roommates.
We’d been together for a while now, and I had to admit, if only to myself, that I liked it - a lot. In fact, it had finally begun to dawn on me why I was happy, and that was because what I felt for Charlie had changed.
He wasn’t just a friend I liked fucking. I was pretty sure, though it still scared me to think it, that I was in love with him. That’s what it means when you think about someone all the time and like being around them, right?
Well, what did you do when you loved somebody? That was easy. You made a commitment, even beyond living together. These days, even if you were both guys, you could get… um… married.
Scary, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. I was proud of Charlie. He was a great police officer, probably looking to be a detective sometime in the near future. I was proud to be seen with him, and if we got married, that would show the whole damn world how I felt about him, which would probably make Charlie happy.
Everybody at his precinct knew he was gay now, and only a few assholes seemed to care. I’d even gone to a couple of parties given by other officers as Charlie’s plus-one, and most people didn’t blink, not even when we danced together - which was all Charlie’s fault. I damn well knew I couldn’t dance for shit.
Anyway, I decided to bring it up and see what Charlie felt about the whole marriage thing before I lost my nerve.
It was harder than I thought.
We were sitting side by side on the couch, him reading and me trying to do a crossword puzzle but mostly gearing myself up.
“Um, Charlie,” I began, “you’ve been living here for a while.”
The cat, Fuzzballs, was sitting on Charlie’s lap, and he never sits on mine, not that I’d want him to, but that’s probably because he feeds the little beast bacon when he thinks I’m not looking.
He put his book down and moved the cat gently off his lap. “Wow, Mr. Obvious, you noticed!” he said with a smirk.
If I was Mr. Obvious, he was definitely up for Mr. Asshole.
“Yeah, I noticed. And it was me who asked you to move in. Remember that?”
He threw an arm over my shoulder and breathed in my ear. “Yeah, Pete, I remember, and I’m glad you did.”
I shivered and tried to stay focused. “Hey, I’m trying to say something here.”
“So say it.” He was paying more attention to my ear than what I was saying, and it was distracting as hell.
“I mean, what I wanted to tell you was… shit, Charlie, you’re giving me goose bumps.”
He moved away a little, but his eyes were hot - that look that really gets my juices flowing.
“Okay. Well, it’s just that, you know, I don’t feel the same way about you as I used to.”
His expression turned serious. “Oh?”
“No, I mean, people’s feelings can change, right? For good reasons? What I mean is, we’re not friends anymore, we’re…”
He sat up suddenly and held a palm in front of my face. “Great. Why am I not surprised? You don’t need to say the rest. Everybody at the bars told me you were fickle as hell, came in with a different guy every week, said you’d never settle down with me, but I said they were wrong, that you and I had something special. But turns out it’s me that’s wrong. Fuck it, let me grab my wallet and phone and I’ll get out of your hair. You can send the rest of my stuff to my mom’s or… fuck it… burn it, I don’t give a damn.”
He stood up and headed for the hall. What the fuck?
I followed him. “Charlie, what are you talking about? You’ve got to listen to me, I…”
“Haven’t you said enough? I get the picture, all right? I’m not stupid. I…”
I grabbed his arm. “Yes you are, you’re the stupidest motherfucker in the goddamn world if you think…”
He pulled away, and I staggered a little bit, to where I hit my elbow against the doorjamb. It fucking hurt.
“Can’t you leave me a little goddamned dignity, Pete? What do you want - you wanna see me break down and bawl like a baby because you fucking broke up with me? Well, get over it, because…”
And I hit him. I didn’t mean to, but he was yelling now and pushing me away, and it seemed like the most natural thing to make a fist and give him one right across the chops. He stood there a minute, his eyes going wide, a hand reaching up to hold his jaw, and then he hit me back, a solid right to the breadbasket.
I almost threw up.
I kind of lost it then, and I grabbed for him and got his shirt, gave a yank, and all the buttons popped off just like shrapnel.
He pushed against my chest again, but I held on, just wanting him to stay still and listen for a minute, though I had kind of forgotten what it was I’d meant to say. I got ahold of both his wrists and pushed him up against the wall. I heard his head connect with a thunk, and he tried to knee me in the balls, so I stepped closer and pressed my body against his to hold him still.
“God-fucking-dammit, Charlie, if you’d just listen….” His face was only a couple inches away, so close I couldn’t help but see the tears he didn’t want to shed making his eyes shine and that pretty mouth turned down at the corners, and suddenly I pressed my lips against his - not thinking, just wanting him not to feel sad.
I thought maybe he’d turn his head, but instead he bit my lip until I tasted blood. It hurt, but I didn’t feel like hitting him again. I felt like….
I let go of his hands and flipped him so his face was against the wall. He struggled, but I held him fast as I reached around and undid his jeans’ buttons. He was really struggling now, swear words rolling out in a string that didn’t make any sense. I grabbed his jeans and yanked them all the way down along with his boxers, then stepped on them while I lifted one of his legs with one of mine until it pulled out of the pant leg. Then I took a deep breath, let go of him entirely, and dropped to my knees behind him.
He went completely still and bent his head to look down at me. I pushed his legs apart, and he didn’t fight me, just stood there leaning against the wall, chest heaving and mouth open. I parted his cheeks, leaned in, and licked.
Charlie shuddered, and I heard him inhale sharply, but I didn’t stop. His skin was hot and sweaty and tasted of salt and earth and musk. His little pucker quivered when my tongue caressed it, squeezing tighter and then relaxing a little each time. He moaned and leaned his hips back, giving me an even better view. I let go one of his cheeks and reached around to grasp his cock, which was pretty damn hard already - but not nearly as hard as mine.
Before long his dick was dripping precum and his asshole was dripping with my saliva. I started to stand up, but Charlie turned and knelt down with me, then ripped open my jeans as he kissed me hard. When he’d reached in and freed my cock, I pushed him down on his back and moved between his legs, then held his gaze as I pushed his knees to his chest.
He didn’t even try to look away, just brought his hands up to grip my shoulders as I spit into my palm, slicked up, guided my prick to his entrance, and eased in.
He winced for a second, then narrowed his eyes and pushed up until I was balls-deep inside him. Damn, it felt amazing.
I tilted my head in question, but he nodded. “Go.”
And I did. I’d never felt this driven. I had to take him as hard and fast as I could, let him know I wanted him now and forever so he wouldn’t be able to doubt it ever again.
His prick slid against my belly, and he moaned every time I bottomed out - maybe I did too. It wasn’t long before I felt that heat building up in my balls, an explosion about to happen, a volcano about to erupt, a natural event that couldn’t be stopped, not even by the end of the world.
“Charlie,” I groaned, and then I gave him everything I had, just as he screamed, “Pete!”
We didn’t move for a while. I think maybe I blacked out.
The next thing I remember is looking down into his gorgeous eyes and seeing him smile at me, his pants still around one ankle and mine about at my knees.
“Jesus God, Pete. We did that bareback.”
Well, looking for a condom and lube hadn’t been in the forefront of my mind a few minutes ago.
“You okay, Charlie?” I said, feeling stupid and inconsiderate, things I probably often am but never like to admit to.
He laughed a little. “Okay? You could say that. Look at our bellies.”
I rolled off him to look, and then I had to laugh. There was enough cum between us to stick down a whole new layer of wallpaper in the hall.
“If you’re all right, guess going bareback was okay. We both got tested three months ago, and I haven’t been with anyone but you since then.”
“Yeah, I guess it wasn’t a big deal,” Charlie said, smiling.
I snorted. “The hell it wasn’t. I’m pretty sure that was our best sex ever.”
He laughed. “You’re right. I guess you should piss me off more often.”
I grinned, raising up on one elbow. I remembered what I’d meant to say.
“How about if we get married? Then I could piss you off on a regular basis.”
Charlie’s eyes got like saucers. “What?”
“You heard me. Why don’t we get married?”
He cleared his throat, and when he spoke his voice had gone husky. “You mean that, Pete?”
“Yeah. I mean, yeah, my feelings for you have changed. You’re not just my friend anymore… I-I love you. That’s what I was trying to say when this whole thing started.” I cleared my throat before I started to cry, then thought I should lighten things up. “I think you should marry me, and then you’d be half owner of the damn cat. He likes you better than me anyway.”
Charlie’s grin looked like it might split his face. “Aw, he’d like you just as well if you fed him treats and petted him now and then.”
“Fuck the cat. How about you start petting me and feeding me treats?”
Charlie laughed. I mean, we were already on the hall floor, but he laughed so hard he started rolling around like a crazy man. Fuzzballs, who had wisely hid under the couch while we were fighting and fucking, must have got curious, because he crawled out, stood in the doorway, and meowed. Charlie grabbed him.
“Hey, buddy, you’re going to have two daddies to spoil you. What do you think of that?”
If I’d grabbed him, the cat would have taken a chunk out of me, but no, he curled up on Charlie’s chest and started to purr. I didn’t know if I should be glad or jealous.
Then I blinked. I was a cat’s daddy? What the actual fuck.
“Hey,” I said, “aren’t you going to say it back?”
“Say what?”
He knew damn well what. Was he going to make me beg? All at once he shoved the cat away and rolled on top of me.
“You know I love you, Pete. I’ve loved you since our first time in the back of that damn ambulance. Ever since you told that cop you were pumping my stomach when you were really pumping…”
I kissed him. Sometimes kissing Charlie is the only way to get him to shut up.
The arrangements came together faster than I would have imagined. Charlie’s mom decided most things, only asking our preferences about the cake and flowers and stuff, though I really didn’t have any. I guess Charlie did. That’s probably how we ended up with daisies all over the chapel - he said it was “our” flower.
We wore matching tuxedos with a daisy on the lapel. Jason and some of my gay buddies from the ambulance service and more than I would have expected of Charlie’s cop friends, including his captain, came to the ceremony at his mom’s church. Fuzzballs was not invited.
Charlie’s stepdad looked real proud, and his mom had tears in her eyes, but she wiped them away before standing up to read the ceremony for us.
I stumbled over my vows, even though all I had to do was repeat them, mostly because Charlie was standing there looking at me with his eyes all lit up and a big smile, and he looked so good I was thinking he should wear a tuxedo more often.
I didn’t even mind too much when she had me repeat “I, Julius, take thee, Charles,” and nobody laughed about my real first name, not even Charlie.
Then there was cake and punch and stuff.
The whole thing was intense. Charlie was schmoozing with his buddies, so I went and sat in a quiet corner with a beer before somebody could ask me to dance.
We were married, for Christ’s sake. I kind of couldn’t believe it.
Melody came over, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and called me “son,” which made me start to tear up like I’d promised myself I wasn’t going to. So I covered it with “So, you like being an ordained minister, huh? Marrying people and all.”
She linked her arm with mine, walked me over to where Charlie was standing, and said, “Yep, that’s my job.”
I kissed her and then Charlie, and as we were standing there his stepfather came over and pressed a brochure into my hand. Of course, it was all about houses for sale.
What the fuck. A year ago I was a happy-go-lucky asshole living alone and playing the field. Now I’ve got a husband I love and I’m daddy to a cat.
I guess anything can happen.
Thanks to Rock Hunter for his excellent editing.
Posted: 12/13/19