This story is absolutely fantastic!
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Lost in New England
- Thread starter 2008spike
- Start date
2008spike
Sex God
Jeremy M fidgeted.
It was Friday afternoon and he didn't want to be inside. He wanted to be on his bike. He wanted to be heading over to the Provincetown ferry terminal. He looked over at a perky blond woman sitting two chairs away from him, who was arguing animatedly, gesticulating with her hands.
"All I am saying is, I don't think we should be thinking of David Copperfield as some kind of Jesus figure. It's too early. Yes, he suffers, but he is hardly worthy of that kind of comparison. Especially in these early chapters!"
On the other side of the room, his friend Marcel crossed himself at the mention of Jesus. Despite the fact that he hated these sessions with the other English TAs, Jeremy M smiled. Jeremy M knew that Marcel had absolutely no religious affinities whatsoever.
The blond glared briefly at Marcel, who held his outstretched fingers over his chin as if to say, "what? Me?"
Jeremy tied to stifle a laugh, but failed. Everyone else in the room looked at him. He cleared his throat and apologized, almost meaning it.
Jeremy and the other English TAs in Professor Clifford Keatings class were meeting on Friday afternoon to agree on how they would grade the mid term essays on David Copperfield that were produced by the Freshmen this week. Sometimes they were some really creative essay topics that the first years came up with, sometimes there some totally wacky ones. Little David as Baby Jesus fell into the latter category. But since there seemed to be a few Freshmen who wrote of Young David the deity, there had probably been some who set up a study group and came up with them idea together. What they were discussing this afternoon was how to evaluate this particular form of off target interpretation consistently.
Marcel spoke.
"No way! All kidding aside now, this whole approach is just wrong! David was not acting like a God. He is just a little kid who got stuck in a lousy situation. He is doing the best he can! But he is certainly not deific."
Jeremy M watched Marcel argue with the blond woman. Even though Marcel was black, Jeremy could see his face redden, even from across the room. Marcel was usually a pretty quiet guy, but he could be intense when something really mattered to him. Today was one of those times. Clearly, Marcel thought that this whole religious tack was just too far away from the real point of the story. New ideas were always welcomed, Marcel was arguing, but not this one.
"But to deny the possibility that Dickens intended to imbue David with these qualities early on, when we clearly see such qualities later in the book, is to disrespect his intentions," she said.
Jeremy M watched Marcel shake his head emphatically no. Marcel's dreadlocks barely moved.
"You're kidding, right?" Marcel asked her incredulously. "David bit the man who was treating him like a dog! The man who was already bopping his poor widowed mother. Would Jesus do that?"
Everyone in the room laughed. Even the blond managed a grin. Jeremy M doubted that Jesus would bite Mr. Stupid, maybe just punch him out instead.
The debate raged on, but clearly the room was with Marcel. In the end, the English TAs agreed not to actually fail the group of students who turned young David into a God. But they were not going to give out any high grades for that line of reasoning either.
Jeremy M emerged from the building and squinted at the glorious sunshine. He unlocked his bike from the rack, checked his tire pressure, and hopped on. It was a short ride across town to the ferry station, but the early Friday afternoon traffic would make it a nail biter.
The Provincetown ferry terminal was in Boston Harbor, close to the north end. Unless traffic through the city was completely ridiculous, Jeremy M would make the 5:30 ferry in plenty of time. He already had his ticket, he had even paid the extra six bucks it cost to bring his bike.
He loved Ptown. Who didn't? It was at the end of the earth, a thin swirl of land at the very tip of Cape Cod. It's extreme location set it apart from the crazy congestion of Boston. And it was not accident that artists, musicians, writers, stoners, gays, liberals and other societal outcasts liked it there. It meant freedom! To be who you were, whoever or whatever that was! It was an amazing place and since he had been in Boston Jeremy M tried to get out there as often as he could.
Jeremy M was not actually going to be in Ptown very long this time. He was meeting his friends to stay overnight tonight, but then he was intending to head out on his bike Saturday morning and make it back to Boston by late afternoon. It was a great long ride back along the Cape. It could be a little challenging to stay off the main highway and navigate the smaller roads, but Jeremy M loved all the little quaint towns along the way and didn't mind a but if he got lost. There was no easy way for a triathlete like Jeremy M to get In a long ride around Boston, so getting out of the city like this was absolutely mandatory.
He had a date in Back Bay Saturday night. Sunday he would look at his stack of Copperfield essays and have them ready for the Professor by Monday morning.
Oh well! The life of a grad student at BU!
When Jeremy M arrived at the harbor, it was already crowded. Lots of people heading out for the weekend. Beside the various fast and slow ferries bound for Ptown, there were fishing boats, whale watching boats, commuter boats heading up and down the coast, and some massive hydrofoil painted to look like a shark. He made his way toward his ferry and dropped into line.
Less than two hours later Jeremy M was standing on Commercial Street, his backpack glued by sweat to the center of his back. He had packed light. He didn't need much for one overnight and he especially didn't need to be carrying some giant suitcase on his bike ride back along the cape.
Jeremy M called his friends to let them he'd arrived.
Paolo and Donnie were a couple guys he had met when he was an undergrad at Fairfield University in Connecticut. They lived in New Haven and were not students. Donnie was some kind of clerk in the town of Fairfield and was having lunch all by himself downtown when Jeremy M walked in carrying a backpack full of books that was nearly larger than Jeremy himself.
Donnie's eyes studied every inch of Jeremy M's young, hard collegiate body as he struggled to slip his overstuffed backpack into a booth. Returning the favor, Jeremy M couldn't keep from stealing glances at Donnie who was reading from a stack of papers while he waited for his lunch to arrive. Donnie was black, with closely cropped hair and a perfectly trimmed little beard at the tip of his chin that rose up and encircled his lips. Exactly Jeremy M's type.
While Jeremy M ordered, another waiter brought out Donnie's lunch. The two of them watched each other closely, a mating dance with their eyes that could end only one way.
Jeremy M hadn't intended on actually being fucked in the bathroom stall of that little restaurant that day. But it was a nice distraction from all the reading he had to do for his classes so he went along happily. Besides Donnie had a nice smooth body, a tiny patch of short pubic hair trimmed as neatly as his beard, and an ample cock. Faced with all that, what was a college student to do? Ignore him?
It was only later that semester that Donnie had admitted to Jeremy M that there was a boyfriend. Donnie had Jeremy M's dick in his mouth at the time, so the bad news was only a minor distraction.
That boyfriend was Paolo, who was originally from Brazil and worked as an accountant in Norwalk. Paolo was alleged to have a larger penis than Donnie and was apparently not the jealous type when it came to Donnie's screwing around the side. It was the first time that Jeremy M considered the possibility that such a happy and open relationship could exist. In Connecticut!
The three of them became friends. He would make his way up to New Haven on bike. Or they would drive down to Fairfield. Donnie and Jeremy M continued to have sex. Usually in Jeremy M's dorm room when his roommate was away. Sometimes in Donnie's office. Even a couple times in Donnie's Volvo. But Jeremy M never got to actually see Paolo's famous dick. Donnie described it as an epic penis. Surely Jeremy M was intrigued. But how exactly did one handle a situation like this?
After Jeremy M graduated, he moved up Boston and became a Master's student in English at Boston University. He continued to talk with his friends in New Haven on occasion. He was pretty sure that Donnie had moved on, having found himself another hard-bodied undergrad at Fairfield. This weekend Jeremy would find out. It was the first time he had ever stayed over at their weekend place in Ptown.
And Jeremy M wondered whether he would be having sex tonight.
It was a short ride from the ferry drop off on Commercial Street to Donnie and Paolo's house. Jeremy M found his way there easily, Provincetown was a pretty tiny place. Donnie was standing outside in the garden, watering flowers.
"Hey Jeremy, welcome to paradise!" Donnie called out.
Jeremy M leaned his bike against the little fence and gave Donnie a hug.
"Cool place," Jeremy M said. "You guys are so lucky to be so close to everything!"
Donnie called out to Paolo who came outside holding a tray of freshly baked parmesan twists. They were still steaming. In his other hand, Paolo held a pitcher filled with what look like a margarita.
"He baked," Donnie said unnecessarily. "I just can't keep him from filling me with more and more carbs. I am never going to be thin again!" Donnie shrieked.
"Go and get some glasses, fatso," Paolo commanded his ridiculously thin boyfriend. "Poor little Jeremy looks thirsty after his long ferry ride from Boston!"
"I am," Jeremy M agreed. "And starving too! What are we eating?"
"His famous cheese things, they are deadly," Donnie said, retreating into the house to fetch the margarita glasses.
Paolo smirked and set down his tray. The basket was lined with blue and white gingham. Perfect for Ptown, they had probably bought it in town. Jeremy M leaned in to take a sniff and let the pungent aroma of melted cheese flip a hunger switch in his brain.
Two pitchers of margarita later, the three of them sat lazily on the patio. They were unable to make any decisions about heading into town for dinner. Jeremy M was happily buzzed, his stomach full of Paolo's cheese twists. Jeremy M's backpack lay on the ground beside the outside table. His bike was still leaning against the fence.
Somehow the three boys worked through their tequila haze and managed to get Jeremy M's bike into the house. They each put on some jeans and decided that they would stick to a Mexican theme. Paolo knew a guy who waited tables at the city's only Mexican restaurant, La something or other. So that's where they went.
When they were finally seated, and their little basket filled with greasy tortilla chips, Donnie finally asked what Jeremy M had been expecting since he'd arrived.
"Okay, it's time we hear about how you are really doing in Boston, Jeremy," Donnie said with a leer. "Or better still, it's who you are doing..."
They all laughed. Everything was much funnier after the two pitchers of margaritas. Jeremy M took a long sip from his plastic tumbler of water and looked at his two friends.
"Um, I love it there. I am getting to do a little teaching, and there's a small stipend on the side. I have a ton of writing to get through, and even more reading. But it works for me I guess. I do miss you guys though," Jeremy said. "I really enjoyed hanging out with both of you in New Haven."
Jeremy M was drunk, and he really just wanted to go back to their condo and have a three way. He didn't really want any Mexican food.
"That's great," Paolo said in his thick Brazilian accent. He was sort of drunk too, so he just sounded even sexier than usual.
Jeremy M looked at Paolo's chest. He was naturally dark skinned, and loved to wear his shirts open a few buttons down from his neck. To some that might come off as sleazy, but to Jeremy M, it just reminded him that he had never seen Paolo without his clothes on and how much he wanted to jump his bones.
Paolo had gorgeous, piercing green eyes that somehow looked almost emerald behind the silver rimmed glasses he wore. His face was flawless. He hadn't shaved in a few days, which gave Paolo a swarthy Latin look that Jeremy M imagined would still look amazing when Paolo's face was buried in his ass. Jeremy M felt a tiny drop of saliva form at the corner of his mouth.
"So what exactly are you going to do with this Masters you are getting? In English?" Donnie asked him
Jeremy M drew a big breath and used his forearm to win the corner of his mouth. He chuckled. Jeremy M wished he'd had a dollar for every time he'd been asked that question. Especially by his parents.
"Honestly boys," he said. "I have no fucking idea!"
They all laughed.
"Maybe you could write speeches for the President," Paolo suggested.
How cute was that? Jeremy M decided that Paolo would be the lucky one to fuck him first. If they could just get out of this place and head back to the condo. The waiter finally came and they ordered. Jeremy M allowed himself to be talked into some kind of mole chimichanga, that was apparently the special of the house. While they waited for the food to come, they munched chips. Donnie and Paolo ordered more margaritas, made from some Cadillac brand of tequila. Jeremy M tried to protest, but he was outvoted.
Hours and hours later, they finally paid the bill and staggered out into the street. Jeremy M needed propping up in order to walk. Paolo did the honors. Jeremy M had no idea where his own legs were, and allowed himself to be led along the street by his friends.
When they got back, Jeremy M insisted that he just go to sleep on the floor in his clothes. That way if he threw up--which seemed pretty likely--at least he wouldn't mess up their couch. But Donnie insisted that Jeremy M lie on the couch since that would be more comfortable. Despite himself, Jeremy M allowed his hosts to take his clothes off. He had a vague understanding that his dick was hard when they did, although he couldn't be sure. Nobody seemed to be touching it, if indeed his dick was hard. So maybe it wasn't. When they turned the light off, he curled up under his blanket and tried to make the world stop spinning. He woke up in the morning with the worst headache anyone in the world had ever had in the history of headaches.
"Water."
The voice was raspy and dry. Jeremy M recognized it loosely as his own.
"Water. I need water," the voice said again.
In another room, Jeremy M heard a miracle. He distinctly detected the sound of water being poured into a glass. He took two deep breaths. How on earth was he supposed to stand up and go and get that water?
"Here you go. I hate to see you suffer."
Jeremy M opened his eyes. It was Paolo. He was holding the glass of water out to him. Jeremy smiled and thanked him. He reached out for the water and put it to his parched lips.
"Thank you," Jeremy M said quietly. Speaking hurt his throat.
"Careful sporto," Paolo said. "Go slow."
Jeremy M had already finished half of the glass. Slow? What the fuck? He needed like five of these! But he did as he was told and pulled it away for his lips for a second. Then he put it back and downed the rest of it. Paolo smiled. Gradually, as his stomach filled with water, Jeremy M focused on the hot Brazilian boy standing in front of him.
Paolo seemed to recognize Jeremy's improvement. He was standing there without much on and he smelled like Brazilian food to Jeremy M. Delicious Brazilian food. Not that Jeremy M had ever had Brazilian food, but what he imagined it would smell like. Paolo www wearing a small pair of boxer shorts that curiously matched the Gingham towel Jeremy M had seen last night holding the cheese twists.
Uh oh.
The thought of cheese twists reached some important part of Jeremy M's brain. Now he really had to throw up!
"You are white," Paolo exclaimed.
Jeremy M cupped his hand over his mouth and looked up at Paolo. His host stuck out his arm and pointed with a finger.
"Bathroom is over there!"
Jeremy M thre back his blanket, saw that he was naked, and jumped to his feet. He made it to the toilet, but it was a close one. When the wrenching was done Jeremy M felt much better. He still had a headache, but at least he felt strangely light and fluid. Cleaning up at the sink, Jeremy M found some mouthwash and gargles a few times. He regarded himself in the mirror. His red hair stood up in lumps and patches. His eyes were bloodshot and roughly matched his color. Or were they redder? There was a crumb of tortilla chip stuck to that space in the center of his chest. He left it there. It was food after all, who knew if just touching it would make him barf again? He looked down at his penis dangling below the lip of the granite bathroom counter. Hmm.
Paolo had obviously just seen him without any clothes on. Jeremy M wondered if he'd helped Donnie to remove his clothes last night. Had he had an erection then? He had some faint recollection of being hard. Of wishing somebody, anybody, would take his dick in their mouth.
Had they?
Jeremy M examined himself, feeling about for telltale signs of dried up saliva. Or semen. There was a little flake of something on the underside of Jeremy M's dick, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe that was just another tortilla chip. How exactly did he get a chip down there? Unless it was from somebody's? I mean, they both ate tortilla chips just like he had, right?
Jeremy M had his wiener in his hand, pulling it taut, looking for other clues that he'd had a blow job when Paolo knocked on the door.
"Jeremy? You okay in there?"
"Yup," Jeremy M replied. "Be out in a sec."
"Anything I can do for you?"
Really? He wants to do something for me? Well I definitely have a few ideas, Jeremy M thought to himself. Or did you do it already?
He splashed a bit more water onto his face, rubbing the redness away at least a little.
"I'm good, thanks a lot Paolo. Be right out."
"I'll put on some coffee," Paolo said, his voice trailing away.
Jeremy M finished up in the mirror as best he could. He removed the tortilla chip from his chip and tossed it into the trash can. He allowed his fingers to brush lightly across his smooth hairless chest. As his fingers passed his nipples, they sprung to life. He felt the excitement surge in his groin. His cock thickened. Jeremy M looked down again. He wasn't hard, of course, but he could be in about two seconds. It would take only a glance from Paolo. He smiled and opened the bathroom door. He followed his cock out of the bathroom.
Poor Paolo.
Cruising along Route 6 between Truro and Wellfleet, Jeremy M held tight to his handlebars and lifted his sore butt out of the saddle.
Yow!
The accidental clench of his butthole sent a shockwave of happy memories up and down his spine. Paolo was indeed an epic fuck. Jeremy M couldn't remember ever having been so thoroughly, totally and completely fucked. By anyone, ever. And he'd been at this since he was a very young teenager.
It was just after 12 noon. He'd gotten a much later start on his ride back to Boston than he had intended. Jeremy M put his very abused backside back on his seat, bent his elbows and pedaled hard. He wanted to make it back home before dark. It would be close. It was a beautiful and smooth endlessly straight road. There weren't many long training rides for him anywhere in the Boston area, but the Cape was amazing. Jeremy M would really enjoy himself today.
If it weren't for his very, very sore ass.
When Jeremy M had come out of the bathroom, Paolo was in the kitchen. Making coffee, just like he'd said. In his Gingham boxers. Just as he had expected, it didn't take much for Jeremy M's cock to become bone hard. Paolo looked down and it happened on cue.
While the coffee pot brewed the coffee that Jeremy M needed to stay alive, Jeremy M expertly removed Paolo's shorts and placed them around his own neck. What Jeremy M had heard from his friend Donnie about the Brazilian's weenie was true. He wasted no more time admiring it and got to work.
Jeremy M never did get any coffee while it was still warm.
Paolo was a crazy good top. Jeremy M got fucked with his dick smashed against the dishwasher. He got fucked with his head squished between canisters of dry pasta. He even got fucked on his back atop the counter, his arms over his head holding onto the faucet for dear life.
They each came three times. Something of a record for Jeremy M before the clock struck twelve. He wondered if it was a record for Paolo, but forgot to ask. Somehow, some way, Donnie never woke up.
So Jeremy M never got his three-way. But he definitely got his two-way. Three ways.
Jeremy M took a slug of water from the bottle between his legs. Less than 24 hours ago he had been stuck in an impossibly painful discussion with his English TAS colleagues. David Copperfield would never have been able to take it up the butt by a guy like Paolo. Three times in one morning.
Speeding along the right side of the road, the cross wind whipping against his backpack, Jeremy M had a sudden memory flash from the busy week he'd had. To his surprise, his thoughts formed into words and his voice spoke them aloud.
"I wonder if that Freshmen in my English class would have been able to take it up the butt from a guy like Paolo? Three times in one morning."
What was that guys name again?
Oh yeah. TJ Something.
Jeremy M smiled to himself. He wondered what young TJ Something was doing right now. He wondered what TJ had written about in his Copperfield essay. He wondered whether or not TJ's test was in his stack at home on his desk. He hoped so. Maybe he'd give him a call when he got home.
It was Friday afternoon and he didn't want to be inside. He wanted to be on his bike. He wanted to be heading over to the Provincetown ferry terminal. He looked over at a perky blond woman sitting two chairs away from him, who was arguing animatedly, gesticulating with her hands.
"All I am saying is, I don't think we should be thinking of David Copperfield as some kind of Jesus figure. It's too early. Yes, he suffers, but he is hardly worthy of that kind of comparison. Especially in these early chapters!"
On the other side of the room, his friend Marcel crossed himself at the mention of Jesus. Despite the fact that he hated these sessions with the other English TAs, Jeremy M smiled. Jeremy M knew that Marcel had absolutely no religious affinities whatsoever.
The blond glared briefly at Marcel, who held his outstretched fingers over his chin as if to say, "what? Me?"
Jeremy tied to stifle a laugh, but failed. Everyone else in the room looked at him. He cleared his throat and apologized, almost meaning it.
Jeremy and the other English TAs in Professor Clifford Keatings class were meeting on Friday afternoon to agree on how they would grade the mid term essays on David Copperfield that were produced by the Freshmen this week. Sometimes they were some really creative essay topics that the first years came up with, sometimes there some totally wacky ones. Little David as Baby Jesus fell into the latter category. But since there seemed to be a few Freshmen who wrote of Young David the deity, there had probably been some who set up a study group and came up with them idea together. What they were discussing this afternoon was how to evaluate this particular form of off target interpretation consistently.
Marcel spoke.
"No way! All kidding aside now, this whole approach is just wrong! David was not acting like a God. He is just a little kid who got stuck in a lousy situation. He is doing the best he can! But he is certainly not deific."
Jeremy M watched Marcel argue with the blond woman. Even though Marcel was black, Jeremy could see his face redden, even from across the room. Marcel was usually a pretty quiet guy, but he could be intense when something really mattered to him. Today was one of those times. Clearly, Marcel thought that this whole religious tack was just too far away from the real point of the story. New ideas were always welcomed, Marcel was arguing, but not this one.
"But to deny the possibility that Dickens intended to imbue David with these qualities early on, when we clearly see such qualities later in the book, is to disrespect his intentions," she said.
Jeremy M watched Marcel shake his head emphatically no. Marcel's dreadlocks barely moved.
"You're kidding, right?" Marcel asked her incredulously. "David bit the man who was treating him like a dog! The man who was already bopping his poor widowed mother. Would Jesus do that?"
Everyone in the room laughed. Even the blond managed a grin. Jeremy M doubted that Jesus would bite Mr. Stupid, maybe just punch him out instead.
The debate raged on, but clearly the room was with Marcel. In the end, the English TAs agreed not to actually fail the group of students who turned young David into a God. But they were not going to give out any high grades for that line of reasoning either.
Jeremy M emerged from the building and squinted at the glorious sunshine. He unlocked his bike from the rack, checked his tire pressure, and hopped on. It was a short ride across town to the ferry station, but the early Friday afternoon traffic would make it a nail biter.
The Provincetown ferry terminal was in Boston Harbor, close to the north end. Unless traffic through the city was completely ridiculous, Jeremy M would make the 5:30 ferry in plenty of time. He already had his ticket, he had even paid the extra six bucks it cost to bring his bike.
He loved Ptown. Who didn't? It was at the end of the earth, a thin swirl of land at the very tip of Cape Cod. It's extreme location set it apart from the crazy congestion of Boston. And it was not accident that artists, musicians, writers, stoners, gays, liberals and other societal outcasts liked it there. It meant freedom! To be who you were, whoever or whatever that was! It was an amazing place and since he had been in Boston Jeremy M tried to get out there as often as he could.
Jeremy M was not actually going to be in Ptown very long this time. He was meeting his friends to stay overnight tonight, but then he was intending to head out on his bike Saturday morning and make it back to Boston by late afternoon. It was a great long ride back along the Cape. It could be a little challenging to stay off the main highway and navigate the smaller roads, but Jeremy M loved all the little quaint towns along the way and didn't mind a but if he got lost. There was no easy way for a triathlete like Jeremy M to get In a long ride around Boston, so getting out of the city like this was absolutely mandatory.
He had a date in Back Bay Saturday night. Sunday he would look at his stack of Copperfield essays and have them ready for the Professor by Monday morning.
Oh well! The life of a grad student at BU!
When Jeremy M arrived at the harbor, it was already crowded. Lots of people heading out for the weekend. Beside the various fast and slow ferries bound for Ptown, there were fishing boats, whale watching boats, commuter boats heading up and down the coast, and some massive hydrofoil painted to look like a shark. He made his way toward his ferry and dropped into line.
Less than two hours later Jeremy M was standing on Commercial Street, his backpack glued by sweat to the center of his back. He had packed light. He didn't need much for one overnight and he especially didn't need to be carrying some giant suitcase on his bike ride back along the cape.
Jeremy M called his friends to let them he'd arrived.
Paolo and Donnie were a couple guys he had met when he was an undergrad at Fairfield University in Connecticut. They lived in New Haven and were not students. Donnie was some kind of clerk in the town of Fairfield and was having lunch all by himself downtown when Jeremy M walked in carrying a backpack full of books that was nearly larger than Jeremy himself.
Donnie's eyes studied every inch of Jeremy M's young, hard collegiate body as he struggled to slip his overstuffed backpack into a booth. Returning the favor, Jeremy M couldn't keep from stealing glances at Donnie who was reading from a stack of papers while he waited for his lunch to arrive. Donnie was black, with closely cropped hair and a perfectly trimmed little beard at the tip of his chin that rose up and encircled his lips. Exactly Jeremy M's type.
While Jeremy M ordered, another waiter brought out Donnie's lunch. The two of them watched each other closely, a mating dance with their eyes that could end only one way.
Jeremy M hadn't intended on actually being fucked in the bathroom stall of that little restaurant that day. But it was a nice distraction from all the reading he had to do for his classes so he went along happily. Besides Donnie had a nice smooth body, a tiny patch of short pubic hair trimmed as neatly as his beard, and an ample cock. Faced with all that, what was a college student to do? Ignore him?
It was only later that semester that Donnie had admitted to Jeremy M that there was a boyfriend. Donnie had Jeremy M's dick in his mouth at the time, so the bad news was only a minor distraction.
That boyfriend was Paolo, who was originally from Brazil and worked as an accountant in Norwalk. Paolo was alleged to have a larger penis than Donnie and was apparently not the jealous type when it came to Donnie's screwing around the side. It was the first time that Jeremy M considered the possibility that such a happy and open relationship could exist. In Connecticut!
The three of them became friends. He would make his way up to New Haven on bike. Or they would drive down to Fairfield. Donnie and Jeremy M continued to have sex. Usually in Jeremy M's dorm room when his roommate was away. Sometimes in Donnie's office. Even a couple times in Donnie's Volvo. But Jeremy M never got to actually see Paolo's famous dick. Donnie described it as an epic penis. Surely Jeremy M was intrigued. But how exactly did one handle a situation like this?
After Jeremy M graduated, he moved up Boston and became a Master's student in English at Boston University. He continued to talk with his friends in New Haven on occasion. He was pretty sure that Donnie had moved on, having found himself another hard-bodied undergrad at Fairfield. This weekend Jeremy would find out. It was the first time he had ever stayed over at their weekend place in Ptown.
And Jeremy M wondered whether he would be having sex tonight.
It was a short ride from the ferry drop off on Commercial Street to Donnie and Paolo's house. Jeremy M found his way there easily, Provincetown was a pretty tiny place. Donnie was standing outside in the garden, watering flowers.
"Hey Jeremy, welcome to paradise!" Donnie called out.
Jeremy M leaned his bike against the little fence and gave Donnie a hug.
"Cool place," Jeremy M said. "You guys are so lucky to be so close to everything!"
Donnie called out to Paolo who came outside holding a tray of freshly baked parmesan twists. They were still steaming. In his other hand, Paolo held a pitcher filled with what look like a margarita.
"He baked," Donnie said unnecessarily. "I just can't keep him from filling me with more and more carbs. I am never going to be thin again!" Donnie shrieked.
"Go and get some glasses, fatso," Paolo commanded his ridiculously thin boyfriend. "Poor little Jeremy looks thirsty after his long ferry ride from Boston!"
"I am," Jeremy M agreed. "And starving too! What are we eating?"
"His famous cheese things, they are deadly," Donnie said, retreating into the house to fetch the margarita glasses.
Paolo smirked and set down his tray. The basket was lined with blue and white gingham. Perfect for Ptown, they had probably bought it in town. Jeremy M leaned in to take a sniff and let the pungent aroma of melted cheese flip a hunger switch in his brain.
Two pitchers of margarita later, the three of them sat lazily on the patio. They were unable to make any decisions about heading into town for dinner. Jeremy M was happily buzzed, his stomach full of Paolo's cheese twists. Jeremy M's backpack lay on the ground beside the outside table. His bike was still leaning against the fence.
Somehow the three boys worked through their tequila haze and managed to get Jeremy M's bike into the house. They each put on some jeans and decided that they would stick to a Mexican theme. Paolo knew a guy who waited tables at the city's only Mexican restaurant, La something or other. So that's where they went.
When they were finally seated, and their little basket filled with greasy tortilla chips, Donnie finally asked what Jeremy M had been expecting since he'd arrived.
"Okay, it's time we hear about how you are really doing in Boston, Jeremy," Donnie said with a leer. "Or better still, it's who you are doing..."
They all laughed. Everything was much funnier after the two pitchers of margaritas. Jeremy M took a long sip from his plastic tumbler of water and looked at his two friends.
"Um, I love it there. I am getting to do a little teaching, and there's a small stipend on the side. I have a ton of writing to get through, and even more reading. But it works for me I guess. I do miss you guys though," Jeremy said. "I really enjoyed hanging out with both of you in New Haven."
Jeremy M was drunk, and he really just wanted to go back to their condo and have a three way. He didn't really want any Mexican food.
"That's great," Paolo said in his thick Brazilian accent. He was sort of drunk too, so he just sounded even sexier than usual.
Jeremy M looked at Paolo's chest. He was naturally dark skinned, and loved to wear his shirts open a few buttons down from his neck. To some that might come off as sleazy, but to Jeremy M, it just reminded him that he had never seen Paolo without his clothes on and how much he wanted to jump his bones.
Paolo had gorgeous, piercing green eyes that somehow looked almost emerald behind the silver rimmed glasses he wore. His face was flawless. He hadn't shaved in a few days, which gave Paolo a swarthy Latin look that Jeremy M imagined would still look amazing when Paolo's face was buried in his ass. Jeremy M felt a tiny drop of saliva form at the corner of his mouth.
"So what exactly are you going to do with this Masters you are getting? In English?" Donnie asked him
Jeremy M drew a big breath and used his forearm to win the corner of his mouth. He chuckled. Jeremy M wished he'd had a dollar for every time he'd been asked that question. Especially by his parents.
"Honestly boys," he said. "I have no fucking idea!"
They all laughed.
"Maybe you could write speeches for the President," Paolo suggested.
How cute was that? Jeremy M decided that Paolo would be the lucky one to fuck him first. If they could just get out of this place and head back to the condo. The waiter finally came and they ordered. Jeremy M allowed himself to be talked into some kind of mole chimichanga, that was apparently the special of the house. While they waited for the food to come, they munched chips. Donnie and Paolo ordered more margaritas, made from some Cadillac brand of tequila. Jeremy M tried to protest, but he was outvoted.
Hours and hours later, they finally paid the bill and staggered out into the street. Jeremy M needed propping up in order to walk. Paolo did the honors. Jeremy M had no idea where his own legs were, and allowed himself to be led along the street by his friends.
When they got back, Jeremy M insisted that he just go to sleep on the floor in his clothes. That way if he threw up--which seemed pretty likely--at least he wouldn't mess up their couch. But Donnie insisted that Jeremy M lie on the couch since that would be more comfortable. Despite himself, Jeremy M allowed his hosts to take his clothes off. He had a vague understanding that his dick was hard when they did, although he couldn't be sure. Nobody seemed to be touching it, if indeed his dick was hard. So maybe it wasn't. When they turned the light off, he curled up under his blanket and tried to make the world stop spinning. He woke up in the morning with the worst headache anyone in the world had ever had in the history of headaches.
"Water."
The voice was raspy and dry. Jeremy M recognized it loosely as his own.
"Water. I need water," the voice said again.
In another room, Jeremy M heard a miracle. He distinctly detected the sound of water being poured into a glass. He took two deep breaths. How on earth was he supposed to stand up and go and get that water?
"Here you go. I hate to see you suffer."
Jeremy M opened his eyes. It was Paolo. He was holding the glass of water out to him. Jeremy smiled and thanked him. He reached out for the water and put it to his parched lips.
"Thank you," Jeremy M said quietly. Speaking hurt his throat.
"Careful sporto," Paolo said. "Go slow."
Jeremy M had already finished half of the glass. Slow? What the fuck? He needed like five of these! But he did as he was told and pulled it away for his lips for a second. Then he put it back and downed the rest of it. Paolo smiled. Gradually, as his stomach filled with water, Jeremy M focused on the hot Brazilian boy standing in front of him.
Paolo seemed to recognize Jeremy's improvement. He was standing there without much on and he smelled like Brazilian food to Jeremy M. Delicious Brazilian food. Not that Jeremy M had ever had Brazilian food, but what he imagined it would smell like. Paolo www wearing a small pair of boxer shorts that curiously matched the Gingham towel Jeremy M had seen last night holding the cheese twists.
Uh oh.
The thought of cheese twists reached some important part of Jeremy M's brain. Now he really had to throw up!
"You are white," Paolo exclaimed.
Jeremy M cupped his hand over his mouth and looked up at Paolo. His host stuck out his arm and pointed with a finger.
"Bathroom is over there!"
Jeremy M thre back his blanket, saw that he was naked, and jumped to his feet. He made it to the toilet, but it was a close one. When the wrenching was done Jeremy M felt much better. He still had a headache, but at least he felt strangely light and fluid. Cleaning up at the sink, Jeremy M found some mouthwash and gargles a few times. He regarded himself in the mirror. His red hair stood up in lumps and patches. His eyes were bloodshot and roughly matched his color. Or were they redder? There was a crumb of tortilla chip stuck to that space in the center of his chest. He left it there. It was food after all, who knew if just touching it would make him barf again? He looked down at his penis dangling below the lip of the granite bathroom counter. Hmm.
Paolo had obviously just seen him without any clothes on. Jeremy M wondered if he'd helped Donnie to remove his clothes last night. Had he had an erection then? He had some faint recollection of being hard. Of wishing somebody, anybody, would take his dick in their mouth.
Had they?
Jeremy M examined himself, feeling about for telltale signs of dried up saliva. Or semen. There was a little flake of something on the underside of Jeremy M's dick, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe that was just another tortilla chip. How exactly did he get a chip down there? Unless it was from somebody's? I mean, they both ate tortilla chips just like he had, right?
Jeremy M had his wiener in his hand, pulling it taut, looking for other clues that he'd had a blow job when Paolo knocked on the door.
"Jeremy? You okay in there?"
"Yup," Jeremy M replied. "Be out in a sec."
"Anything I can do for you?"
Really? He wants to do something for me? Well I definitely have a few ideas, Jeremy M thought to himself. Or did you do it already?
He splashed a bit more water onto his face, rubbing the redness away at least a little.
"I'm good, thanks a lot Paolo. Be right out."
"I'll put on some coffee," Paolo said, his voice trailing away.
Jeremy M finished up in the mirror as best he could. He removed the tortilla chip from his chip and tossed it into the trash can. He allowed his fingers to brush lightly across his smooth hairless chest. As his fingers passed his nipples, they sprung to life. He felt the excitement surge in his groin. His cock thickened. Jeremy M looked down again. He wasn't hard, of course, but he could be in about two seconds. It would take only a glance from Paolo. He smiled and opened the bathroom door. He followed his cock out of the bathroom.
Poor Paolo.
Cruising along Route 6 between Truro and Wellfleet, Jeremy M held tight to his handlebars and lifted his sore butt out of the saddle.
Yow!
The accidental clench of his butthole sent a shockwave of happy memories up and down his spine. Paolo was indeed an epic fuck. Jeremy M couldn't remember ever having been so thoroughly, totally and completely fucked. By anyone, ever. And he'd been at this since he was a very young teenager.
It was just after 12 noon. He'd gotten a much later start on his ride back to Boston than he had intended. Jeremy M put his very abused backside back on his seat, bent his elbows and pedaled hard. He wanted to make it back home before dark. It would be close. It was a beautiful and smooth endlessly straight road. There weren't many long training rides for him anywhere in the Boston area, but the Cape was amazing. Jeremy M would really enjoy himself today.
If it weren't for his very, very sore ass.
When Jeremy M had come out of the bathroom, Paolo was in the kitchen. Making coffee, just like he'd said. In his Gingham boxers. Just as he had expected, it didn't take much for Jeremy M's cock to become bone hard. Paolo looked down and it happened on cue.
While the coffee pot brewed the coffee that Jeremy M needed to stay alive, Jeremy M expertly removed Paolo's shorts and placed them around his own neck. What Jeremy M had heard from his friend Donnie about the Brazilian's weenie was true. He wasted no more time admiring it and got to work.
Jeremy M never did get any coffee while it was still warm.
Paolo was a crazy good top. Jeremy M got fucked with his dick smashed against the dishwasher. He got fucked with his head squished between canisters of dry pasta. He even got fucked on his back atop the counter, his arms over his head holding onto the faucet for dear life.
They each came three times. Something of a record for Jeremy M before the clock struck twelve. He wondered if it was a record for Paolo, but forgot to ask. Somehow, some way, Donnie never woke up.
So Jeremy M never got his three-way. But he definitely got his two-way. Three ways.
Jeremy M took a slug of water from the bottle between his legs. Less than 24 hours ago he had been stuck in an impossibly painful discussion with his English TAS colleagues. David Copperfield would never have been able to take it up the butt by a guy like Paolo. Three times in one morning.
Speeding along the right side of the road, the cross wind whipping against his backpack, Jeremy M had a sudden memory flash from the busy week he'd had. To his surprise, his thoughts formed into words and his voice spoke them aloud.
"I wonder if that Freshmen in my English class would have been able to take it up the butt from a guy like Paolo? Three times in one morning."
What was that guys name again?
Oh yeah. TJ Something.
Jeremy M smiled to himself. He wondered what young TJ Something was doing right now. He wondered what TJ had written about in his Copperfield essay. He wondered whether or not TJ's test was in his stack at home on his desk. He hoped so. Maybe he'd give him a call when he got home.
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2004
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Excellent writing, Spike! 
My folks had a summer place, on Wellfleet Harbor, for 30yr. I LOVE "The Cape", especially P-Town. Though I never ran into a Paulo (damn it!), you brought back some cherished memories of mine.
So, Jeremy M turns out to be quite a "swordsman"! And, now he seems to be aiming for TJ as he pedals his well worn sore ass back to Boston. I'm thinking that TJ may end up learning a LOT more from his TA than he ever expected.
Thank You! "More, please, Sir!"
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
My folks had a summer place, on Wellfleet Harbor, for 30yr. I LOVE "The Cape", especially P-Town. Though I never ran into a Paulo (damn it!), you brought back some cherished memories of mine.
So, Jeremy M turns out to be quite a "swordsman"! And, now he seems to be aiming for TJ as he pedals his well worn sore ass back to Boston. I'm thinking that TJ may end up learning a LOT more from his TA than he ever expected.
Thank You! "More, please, Sir!"
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
Craiger
JUB Addict
Great chapter, Spike. Though I have never been to PTown, it sounds like a place I would like. Even though your description of it was very short, I honed in on it's residents....Particularly Paolo and Donnie... Now if I could only find them, I'm sure they would show me the town.
TJ, it seems, is in for a delightful tutoring session. He may know more about David Copperfield than any of his fellow classmates. Kind of up and personal information........
Craiger
TJ, it seems, is in for a delightful tutoring session. He may know more about David Copperfield than any of his fellow classmates. Kind of up and personal information........
Craiger
RACERX71
Slut
Great job Spike ! Can you write a book for us ? I never get tired of reading your stories !
2008spike
Sex God
Thank you Racer and everyone who enjoys reading the stories. New chapter coming soon...
2008spike
Sex God
Where on earth was Max?
First, he had said that he was going outside for some fresh air.Then, after having breathed enough fresh air, he was back. Then he was gone again, the second time with no explanation, but he did have a pained expression on his face.
Max was not a patient dude.
I was patient, but David Leeman and I were getting a little tired of waiting in the stupid little waiting area just inside of the New Haven police station. A few people had come out to see what it was that we were here for, but nobody seemed to know exactly where Officer Ruggazione was.
Even though it was Ruggazione we were waiting for, I was starting to get pissed off.
I already had a pained expression on my own face. And, I could probably use some fresh air ourselves. As soon as I went outside, he'd probably show up however.
"Should we ask to speak to a supervisor or something?" I asked David. He was staring at the ground, lost in thought.
"Naw," David said. "He's been like this all week. Ever since I arrived in town, Ruggazione has been late to our meetings. Every time."
"Oh," I said, not feeling un-pissed off yet.
It was a good thing the policeman was so fucking cute.
I stood up. To either stretch my legs or walk outside, I hadn't really decided.
And then, just in the nick of time, just when I was about to banish Ruggazione from my sexual fantasies for the week, he appeared. Finally!
Okay, he's back in.
I smiled as he walked up. It was nearly seven days since I'd seen him. Officer Brian Ruggazione somehow looked better than I had been picturing him all week. Here in real life however, he had his uniform on. And he wasn't strapped to a sling wearing nothing but a chest harness.
"So sorry, guys!" Ruggazione said. He looked a little worn out. More so than he was when I'd been with him last Sunday afternoon.
"I didn't mean to keep you waiting. Busy morning here I'm afraid."
Well, I know exactly how you can make it up to me. Come over here, let's talk. All is forgiven.
David and I stood up. Ruggazione approached us, one arm out. I stared at his hands, his fingers seemed strong. Thicker than I had remembered.
"It's okay. Good to see you again," I said. I stretched my arms out to give him a bro hug. He paused and had a confused look on his face. Come on man, it's just a bro hug.
Awkwardly, I readjusted and shook his hand, somehow grabbing his wrist more than I intended. I turned red while David shook his hand next.
"Hey," David said.
"Hey," Ruggazione said.
He brought us through the locked door and into the inside of the station. Just as we entered, I looked around one last time for Max, but he was nowhere to be found. Oh well, he was a big boy and we'd find him later.
We were seated on a conference room that was more like a fishbowl than a private talking area. A fishbowl with unbreakable glass on two sides. Outside our fishbowl, the place was rocking.
Ruggazione offered us some water, which we both accepted. He brought three Styrofoam cups from the water cooler. After a pointless discussion of my train ride into New Haven and what we had for dinner last night across from the Green, Ruggazione finally got down to business.
"So, we have a promising new lead," he started.
I watched David's face brighten. This would be the first good news that there had been all week since Danny disappeared.
"Is it a good new lead or a bad one?" David asked.
Oh that. David had obviously been here all week. He had more to be cynical about than I did.
Ruggazione shrugged.
"Hard to say," he said.
David and I looked at him, wanting him to go on.
"Okay, here it is," Ruggazione said, after a pause, realizing we had nothing else to say.
David and I stared at him. David for obvious reasons. Me for those too, but with a little hopeful lust sprinkled in as well. He must have sensed our hope. He held both arms up, palms down, maybe some universal police sign language for 'how the fuck should I know?'
"We still have a lot of work to do. To find Danny. But at least we have something more than we did a few days ago. So it might be good news, it might be bad, we won't know till we get over there and talk to them," he said.
Each word that would come out of his mouth would get us just a little closer to having Danny back. Okay, okay, go on.
"A report came in from a grocery store in town," Ruggazione started.
A grocery store? Danny was out shopping for food? On a Saturday night?
"Some guy got roughed up a bit, outside the store. It was reported on Sunday, but we didn't immediately make the connection with Danny's disappearance till now."
David and I looked at each other. Neither of us got it.
"Roughed up?" David asked.
"Beaten up." Ruggazione said succinctly.
"Beaten up? I don't get it," David said.
"Fag bashed."
"Fag bashed!" David and I said at the same time.
"What the fuck?" I said, forgetting momentarily that maybe there is some unwritten rule. You're not supposed to say 'fuck' to a police officer.
Ruggazione pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. David buried his face in his hands.
"Shit!" I said. My eyes started to tear up.
I put an arm onto David's neck. He was already weeping lightly.
"We aren't absolutely certain. It could have been something else, of course. It might not have been a fag bash. But this is what the person who reported the crime thought was happening."
"Crime?" I asked. "This was a crime?"
David lifted his face away from his palms and looked up at Ruggazione.
"Yes TJ. It was a crime. That's what we call it when somebody gets beaten up outside of a grocery store. In fact, if it was a fag bash, that's a hate crime."
"A hate crime! Shit!" I said again.
"So, was he hurt? Did he go to a hospital? Do we know anything about that? Has someone checked the hospitals in the area?" I asked.
Ruggazione nodded again. Of course, they had checked the hospitals. They did that on the very first day of Danny's disappearance, he explained.
There was silence. Ruggazione didn't say a word for a whole minute, apparently wanting us to digest what he had just told us. Teardrops streamed down my face, finding their way into my mouth. I licked a few salty ones from my upper lip. I rubbed my eyes with a fist and looked out the glass at the busy office, abuzz with activity.
David sobbed lightly into his hands. I rubbed his neck, making it wet with my tears. Then I looked again at the policeman sitting across from us.
"Was there like any blood or anything?" You know, where this happened?" I asked. I hoped he would say no.
"Yes," he said simply. "There was some blood."
I shook my head. I couldn't stand to think of somebody hurting Danny. This wasn't fucking happening!
My eyes filled up again.
"A lot, or a little?"
Ruggazione shook his head.
"I don't know. That wasn't in the report. But we need to go over to the market and see for ourselves today. Talk to the store manager, along with a few of the employees who were on duty last Saturday night."
David continued to sob quietly. I wondered if he could do this. Well, somebody had to. I would be the strong one for both of us.
"Today?" I asked. "You want to go to the market today?"
"Yes."
I sniffed. My face was streaked with tears. I could only imagine how red my eyes were. An image flashed across my mind. I was going to be inside of a police car, for the first time of my life. That was exactly how a lot of scenes in porno movies got started!
"In the squad car? Are we going to take the squad car?"
"We call it a cruiser," Ruggazione replied.
Right.
"Are we going to take the cruiser?"
That got a laugh out of David. He knew exactly where my brain had gone.
"Yes TJ, we will take a cruiser," he answered with a half grin. "But don't get too excited, it's unmarked. And probably pretty filthy."
Good. Filthy was okay. So long as David and I got to ride in the back.
Ten minutes, David and I had gotten ourselves together and stood outside by Ruggazione's cruiser.
I called Max to let him know that we were leaving. For the first time since I'd known him, he took four rings to answer. He was apparently back at the hotel. But that didn't sound very Max-like behavior, so I had my doubts he was telling me the truth. He said that the whole missing persons, police station business had gotten to him. That was why he had that goofy look on his face, he said. He would be glad to meet us for dinner when we were done for the day.
No big deal. Max wasn't really a friend of Danny's anyhow. So, there would be more room in the cruiser for me and David. And Ruggazione.
The back seat of the cruiser was more disgusting than anything I could have imagined. The seats were greasy, there was gross stuff on the floor that I couldn't identify, and it smelled like concentrated feet.
Ruggazione explained that this particular unit was used only by the junior detectives in the New Haven police department. The department had a sort of pecking order of filthiness. Due to financial cutbacks, washes and wipe downs were reserved for the higher level staff only. UntilRuggazione had a few more years under his belt, he had to drive one of the dirtiest cars. Apparently, even this one was an improvement on what they gave to the rookie cops.
I didn't even want to think about that.
Ruggazione insisted that nobody had actually died inside this particular car. Judging by the stench, I wasn't too sure.
While Ruggazione drove, David and I held our noses and tried not to touch anything. I hoped for a short drive to the grocery store.
I put my police car fantasy with Ruggazione on hold while I endured the horribleness of it all. My dick, however, had no sense of smell, and lengthened out to at least a semi hard-on as soon as I buckled up in the back seat behind the cage.
My dick is an amazing thing. Clearly I am not in charge when it's sick little mind is made up.
We pulled into the parking lot of a Stop 'N Shop, and Ruggazione slipped the cruiser into a spot close to the entrance. I was out of the car before he turned the engine off. David did the same
"Have you got a wipe?" I asked Ruggazione once he was out of the car too.
"A what?"
"My mom used to carry those wet wipes, you know, whenever we would... Never mind, I sound like an idiot," I said. I was not usually a neat freak, but well, this was different.
He smiled at me for the first time that day. His eyes seemed to catch the tenting in my jeans.
"You can get one inside Mr. Clean. They have then for the carts."
"Good!" David and I said at the exact same time. Ruggazione laughed and mumbled something to himself that I didn't catch.
I thought to myself: Don't worry buddy, I'll still happily lick your butt later tonight. Just don't take any place in the cruiser ever again.
We spent the next two hours in the office at Stop 'N Shop talking to staff. Ruggazione wanted us there to hear first-hand the details of what might have gone on last Saturday night.
From what we could piece together, Danny, or somebody who looked an awful lot like Danny, came into the store around10:30 p.m., just before closing. Danny bought a banana, a granola bar, and a water and was at the express cashier checking out when a group of guys came up behind with a few sixers of beer. According to the cashier, Danny may have been dressed a little on the skimpy side. Somebody from the group of guys whistled, somebody made a comment about how tight his pants were.
Sounded like Danny.
Some words were exchanged. They taunted him. One member of the group tried to get his friends to shut up, but that apparently didn't work. They kept up. Somebody made a joke about Danny's banana, and Danny placed the fruit in a sexual position in front of his zipper.
After one guy called Danny a faggot, Danny apparently volunteered himself to receive a blow job from each member of the group. According to the cashier, they didn't politely decline.
Once they bought their beer, they followed Danny into the parking lot where Danny was waiting for them. The cashier was surprised that Danny didn't just take off once he got outside.
David and I agreed that this was sounding even more like Danny.
The cashier then saw the group surround Danny. Unfortunately another customer came up to her register about then and she was unable to see much else.
Outside in the parking lot, the sun was hot. I watched Ruggazione undo a button on his shirt. I tugged at my t shirt collar. David had gone white and made no adjustments.
The store manager escorted us.
When we arrived at the rack where people are supposed to put their shopping carts, we all looked down. There was a dark red puddle of dried blood on the asphalt. Just above it, there were dark red dots of dried blood on the railing of the shopping cart rack.
I was sick to my stomach.
David walked away, one hand over his mouth.
"This was not the spot where my employee saw the group of boys gather around your friend," the manager said quietly, looking directly at me.
He pointed to a place closer to the store windows.
"It started over there, apparently," he said. "But we didn't find any blood over there. Just here, by these bars."
I stared at Danny's blood. Holy fuck! What the hell happened here? My knees buckled and I stumbled, unable to hold myself up. Ruggazione caught me before I fell onto the pavement.
"I am very sorry about your friend. I wish we could have done more to help him," the manager said earnestly. He put a hand on my shoulder while Ruggazione held me. Across the parking lot, David was on his knees beside the police cruiser, his forehead bouncing against the rear fender.
We stood like this a while. Nobody said anything. Nobody moved.
Finally, Ruggazione spoke.
"I will get a forensics team here to sample this dried blood," he said.
Through my sobbing, I looked at my friend's blood on the shopping cart rack. I gripped Ruggazione harder and buried my face in his shoulder. He let me be while I cried for a long time. The manager went back inside. Ruggazione phoned a colleague at the station, more investigators would be here soon.
Still holding onto Ruggazione for dear life, I looked into his face. I never wanted to kiss somebody so much in my entire life. Instead I broke free and jogged over to where David lie on the cement.
I sat him upright and placed his head against my chest. He wasn't crying anymore. The sun beat down against my face as I mashed it up against David's hair.
Danny's hair.
I felt cold inside, chills coursed through me. David and I were both shivering.
I don't remember very much about the rest of what we did that day with Ruggazione.
I'm pretty sure we made a couple more stops before we headed back to the police station. I'm pretty sure we endured the stench and indignities of the New Haven police cruiser again. I'm pretty sure Ruggazione bought us lunch at some Italian place he knew, but I'm certain I didn't eat a bite of it. And I'm pretty sure that David and I barely spoke to one another.
The shock of seeing Danny's blood on the pavement, having dropped down the bars of that shopping cart rack, was just too much to bear. Hearing first hand from the Stop 'N Shop staff a description of exactly what transpired between Danny and that gang of thugs--what else could they be called?--made me sick.
While nobody could yet be certain, the whole set of events sure sounded like Danny Leeman. Danny would definitely be eating if he was out and about the night before a big race. Danny would also be the one stroking a banana in front of a crowd of strangers. And Danny would definitely stick around out in the parking lot, hoping that he might find at least one boy in the crowd who he could fuck. I knew it and Danny's brother David knew it.
Danny was definitely the guy whose blood we saw in that parking lot. And that scared the hell out of both of us. Where was he now?
When we got done with Ruggazione, we still hadn't found Max.
David and I agreed that we wanted to stay together. We needed to call his folks and tell them what we had learned. The idea of being alone in New Haven was a no go. Not after what we had just seen at the grocery store.
Ruggazione must have thought the same. He seemed to sense that we were totally freaked out. Which was true of course.
Ruggazione said that he had a quick errand to do, but then he would be glad to hook up with us later. Both David and I agreed immediately.
"I'll call you in an hour or so," Ruggazione said.
I nodded. Not sure what to say. It was really nice of him to offer to hang out.
"And guys," he added. "Call me Brian. I'm only a few years older than you. Enough of the Officer Ruggazione stuff."
"Okay," I agreed.
David did too. Brian it was.
We went back to the Omni Hotel.
Still no Max. He wasn't at the hotel like he said on the call earlier. That was just great! Now I had two friends who were lost in New Haven. It was turning out to be an even lousier week than I thought. I wanted to go home.
Just as his friend Tommy had requested, Brian Ruggazione checked out an extra pair of handcuffs from the supply room. He was happy to drop them off at Tommy's condo. Guys were always leaving their cuffs someplace, so it was really no big deal. Brian himself had misplaced his cuffs a few times. Nobody would think that these were for Tommy, and Brian had no intention of telling anyone who they were for. Brian had to admit that it was a little unlike Tommy to lose something, especially something like his cuffs. Tommy had to be one of the most careful and fastidious people that he knew.
If Brian timed things right, after he stopped by Tommy's, he could still get home and shower before he met up with the David and TJ.
He felt awful about today.
Danny's brother David and TJ should not have been at the Stop 'N Shop with him. The last thing that David and TJ needed was to see that blood-Danny's blood-all over the pavement! Brian should have followed up with the store manager on his own. He should never have brought the guys along for that horror show.
Brian had to admit to himself that this case was eating at him.
Obviously it was awful about Danny Leeman. It had been a full week since he had disappeared. Every day that passed made it that much less likely that anybody would ever see Danny again. In one piece that is. The odds were stacking up. People who were gone for a week were either long gone since they didn't want to be found, or else they were dead. From what Brian had learned, Danny didn't seem like the type to go off on his own--the guy seemed like he really thrived on human companionship--so it was unlikely that Danny had caused his own disappearance.
It was much more likely that Danny had been taken, and that he would not be coming back.
But why? That part made no sense.
This guy comes into town for a big track meet, he does a little partying, he happens to aggravate a group of guys out for some partying of their own on a Saturday night, but then the guy gets beaten up and kidnapped by a group of guys who just wanted to drink some beer?
That last bit about the partying was the most confusing of all.
From what he had learned, the guys were in the Stop 'N Shop to grab some beers and then head back to one of their houses probably, then have a little fun. It just didn't fit. Brian couldn't imagine that one of them said, "hey let's just bag this whole partying idea, let's bag this faggot instead!"
Policeman 101 courses taught quite a lot about kidnapping. Usually it was just a lone lunatic who did the kidnapping. At most, the lunatic might be working with a single accomplice, so two people max. Definitely not a group of guys who were cruising through Stop 'N Shop and just get a wild hair! They would simply not do a thing like this.
So why did they? Why would they take Danny?
This case didn't come together for Brian. It made his head spin. He could only imagine how it was making David and TJ feel. Poor guys.
Brian hoped that by getting together with David and with TJ tonight, he could get them to relax. As the cop in charge of the investigation, it was his job to help. However he could help. He'd taken a pledge to serve.
Serving tonight would involve being served a couple drinks. They were underage to drink in Connecticut, but Brian didn't give a shit about that. In fact, maybe a little liquid truth serum would get the boys to talk, cough something up that could help in the investigation. He could use a break in the case, fill in that final piece of the puzzle that he needed. Hopefully there was something else. Anything!
Of course at the end of the day, the odds were still pretty lousy for Danny. All things considered, they were unlikely to find him alive after seven days. Danny would still be dead, but, well, at least Brian would have done his job and the Leeman family would get some closure.
But Brian was troubled by more than the Danny Leeman investigation. There was still something else, something Brian had been able to bring to front of his mind. Something that was tugging at him in a different way.
Brian walked to his car, trying to figure out what it was that eating away at him.
Why had he brought the victims brother and his friend along with him to the Stop 'N Shop? Why didn't he go by himself, as he should have? Why was he so intrigued by the unusual friendship that existed between Danny Leeman and TJ? Why did TJ look at Brian the way he did? And who was this third friend-TJ called him Max-that was apparently here to help, but didn't happen to show up all day?
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. He unlocked the door with a click.
Getting into his car, Brian threw the envelope with the spare cuffs into the backseat.
It had been a long day, and there was still more to come. He thought about this morning at the gym, after his class. What had been on his mind when he was in the shower cleaning up? Or rather, who had been on his mind? A familiar image filled his head
Buckling in, Brian caught a reflection of his own face in the mirror. His lips were curled up at both ends, he was smiling.
He knew who he was thinking about. He knew why he had a grin on his face. But he pushed the thought away. He had a job to do right now.
First drop off the cuffs for Tommy. Second, if possible, find out why Tommy's acting weird. Then, meet the boys and ply them for information that would solve the case.
Only then would he focus on himself. Only then would he let himself relax a bit.
Despite the knowledge that he knew he had to extract from the guys, it surprised him to realize that a part of him was actually looking forward to this evening. He knew that was what was making his stomach churn. When he met up with the guys for dinner, he figured that a lot of this would become very clear.
Tonight he would know.
- - - Updated - - -
Where on earth was Max?
First, he had said that he was going outside for some fresh air.Then, after having breathed enough fresh air, he was back. Then he was gone again, the second time with no explanation, but he did have a pained expression on his face.
Max was not a patient dude.
I was patient, but David Leeman and I were getting a little tired of waiting in the stupid little waiting area just inside of the New Haven police station. A few people had come out to see what it was that we were here for, but nobody seemed to know exactly where Officer Ruggazione was.
Even though it was Ruggazione we were waiting for, I was starting to get pissed off.
I already had a pained expression on my own face. And, I could probably use some fresh air ourselves. As soon as I went outside, he'd probably show up however.
"Should we ask to speak to a supervisor or something?" I asked David. He was staring at the ground, lost in thought.
"Naw," David said. "He's been like this all week. Ever since I arrived in town, Ruggazione has been late to our meetings. Every time."
"Oh," I said, not feeling un-pissed off yet.
It was a good thing the policeman was so fucking cute.
I stood up. To either stretch my legs or walk outside, I hadn't really decided.
And then, just in the nick of time, just when I was about to banish Ruggazione from my sexual fantasies for the week, he appeared. Finally!
Okay, he's back in.
I smiled as he walked up. It was nearly seven days since I'd seen him. Officer Brian Ruggazione somehow looked better than I had been picturing him all week. Here in real life however, he had his uniform on. And he wasn't strapped to a sling wearing nothing but a chest harness.
"So sorry, guys!" Ruggazione said. He looked a little worn out. More so than he was when I'd been with him last Sunday afternoon.
"I didn't mean to keep you waiting. Busy morning here I'm afraid."
Well, I know exactly how you can make it up to me. Come over here, let's talk. All is forgiven.
David and I stood up. Ruggazione approached us, one arm out. I stared at his hands, his fingers seemed strong. Thicker than I had remembered.
"It's okay. Good to see you again," I said. I stretched my arms out to give him a bro hug. He paused and had a confused look on his face. Come on man, it's just a bro hug.
Awkwardly, I readjusted and shook his hand, somehow grabbing his wrist more than I intended. I turned red while David shook his hand next.
"Hey," David said.
"Hey," Ruggazione said.
He brought us through the locked door and into the inside of the station. Just as we entered, I looked around one last time for Max, but he was nowhere to be found. Oh well, he was a big boy and we'd find him later.
We were seated on a conference room that was more like a fishbowl than a private talking area. A fishbowl with unbreakable glass on two sides. Outside our fishbowl, the place was rocking.
Ruggazione offered us some water, which we both accepted. He brought three Styrofoam cups from the water cooler. After a pointless discussion of my train ride into New Haven and what we had for dinner last night across from the Green, Ruggazione finally got down to business.
"So, we have a promising new lead," he started.
I watched David's face brighten. This would be the first good news that there had been all week since Danny disappeared.
"Is it a good new lead or a bad one?" David asked.
Oh that. David had obviously been here all week. He had more to be cynical about than I did.
Ruggazione shrugged.
"Hard to say," he said.
David and I looked at him, wanting him to go on.
"Okay, here it is," Ruggazione said, after a pause, realizing we had nothing else to say.
David and I stared at him. David for obvious reasons. Me for those too, but with a little hopeful lust sprinkled in as well. He must have sensed our hope. He held both arms up, palms down, maybe some universal police sign language for 'how the fuck should I know?'
"We still have a lot of work to do. To find Danny. But at least we have something more than we did a few days ago. So it might be good news, it might be bad, we won't know till we get over there and talk to them," he said.
Each word that would come out of his mouth would get us just a little closer to having Danny back. Okay, okay, go on.
"A report came in from a grocery store in town," Ruggazione started.
A grocery store? Danny was out shopping for food? On a Saturday night?
"Some guy got roughed up a bit, outside the store. It was reported on Sunday, but we didn't immediately make the connection with Danny's disappearance till now."
David and I looked at each other. Neither of us got it.
"Roughed up?" David asked.
"Beaten up." Ruggazione said succinctly.
"Beaten up? I don't get it," David said.
"Fag bashed."
"Fag bashed!" David and I said at the same time.
"What the fuck?" I said, forgetting momentarily that maybe there is some unwritten rule. You're not supposed to say 'fuck' to a police officer.
Ruggazione pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. David buried his face in his hands.
"Shit!" I said. My eyes started to tear up.
I put an arm onto David's neck. He was already weeping lightly.
"We aren't absolutely certain. It could have been something else, of course. It might not have been a fag bash. But this is what the person who reported the crime thought was happening."
"Crime?" I asked. "This was a crime?"
David lifted his face away from his palms and looked up at Ruggazione.
"Yes TJ. It was a crime. That's what we call it when somebody gets beaten up outside of a grocery store. In fact, if it was a fag bash, that's a hate crime."
"A hate crime! Shit!" I said again.
"So, was he hurt? Did he go to a hospital? Do we know anything about that? Has someone checked the hospitals in the area?" I asked.
Ruggazione nodded again. Of course, they had checked the hospitals. They did that on the very first day of Danny's disappearance, he explained.
There was silence. Ruggazione didn't say a word for a whole minute, apparently wanting us to digest what he had just told us. Teardrops streamed down my face, finding their way into my mouth. I licked a few salty ones from my upper lip. I rubbed my eyes with a fist and looked out the glass at the busy office, abuzz with activity.
David sobbed lightly into his hands. I rubbed his neck, making it wet with my tears. Then I looked again at the policeman sitting across from us.
"Was there like any blood or anything?" You know, where this happened?" I asked. I hoped he would say no.
"Yes," he said simply. "There was some blood."
I shook my head. I couldn't stand to think of somebody hurting Danny. This wasn't fucking happening!
My eyes filled up again.
"A lot, or a little?"
Ruggazione shook his head.
"I don't know. That wasn't in the report. But we need to go over to the market and see for ourselves today. Talk to the store manager, along with a few of the employees who were on duty last Saturday night."
David continued to sob quietly. I wondered if he could do this. Well, somebody had to. I would be the strong one for both of us.
"Today?" I asked. "You want to go to the market today?"
"Yes."
I sniffed. My face was streaked with tears. I could only imagine how red my eyes were. An image flashed across my mind. I was going to be inside of a police car, for the first time of my life. That was exactly how a lot of scenes in porno movies got started!
"In the squad car? Are we going to take the squad car?"
"We call it a cruiser," Ruggazione replied.
Right.
"Are we going to take the cruiser?"
That got a laugh out of David. He knew exactly where my brain had gone.
"Yes TJ, we will take a cruiser," he answered with a half grin. "But don't get too excited, it's unmarked. And probably pretty filthy."
Good. Filthy was okay. So long as David and I got to ride in the back.
Ten minutes, David and I had gotten ourselves together and stood outside by Ruggazione's cruiser.
I called Max to let him know that we were leaving. For the first time since I'd known him, he took four rings to answer. He was apparently back at the hotel. But that didn't sound very Max-like behavior, so I had my doubts he was telling me the truth. He said that the whole missing persons, police station business had gotten to him. That was why he had that goofy look on his face, he said. He would be glad to meet us for dinner when we were done for the day.
No big deal. Max wasn't really a friend of Danny's anyhow. So, there would be more room in the cruiser for me and David. And Ruggazione.
The back seat of the cruiser was more disgusting than anything I could have imagined. The seats were greasy, there was gross stuff on the floor that I couldn't identify, and it smelled like concentrated feet.
Ruggazione explained that this particular unit was used only by the junior detectives in the New Haven police department. The department had a sort of pecking order of filthiness. Due to financial cutbacks, washes and wipe downs were reserved for the higher level staff only. UntilRuggazione had a few more years under his belt, he had to drive one of the dirtiest cars. Apparently, even this one was an improvement on what they gave to the rookie cops.
I didn't even want to think about that.
Ruggazione insisted that nobody had actually died inside this particular car. Judging by the stench, I wasn't too sure.
While Ruggazione drove, David and I held our noses and tried not to touch anything. I hoped for a short drive to the grocery store.
I put my police car fantasy with Ruggazione on hold while I endured the horribleness of it all. My dick, however, had no sense of smell, and lengthened out to at least a semi hard-on as soon as I buckled up in the back seat behind the cage.
My dick is an amazing thing. Clearly I am not in charge when it's sick little mind is made up.
We pulled into the parking lot of a Stop 'N Shop, and Ruggazione slipped the cruiser into a spot close to the entrance. I was out of the car before he turned the engine off. David did the same
"Have you got a wipe?" I asked Ruggazione once he was out of the car too.
"A what?"
"My mom used to carry those wet wipes, you know, whenever we would... Never mind, I sound like an idiot," I said. I was not usually a neat freak, but well, this was different.
He smiled at me for the first time that day. His eyes seemed to catch the tenting in my jeans.
"You can get one inside Mr. Clean. They have then for the carts."
"Good!" David and I said at the exact same time. Ruggazione laughed and mumbled something to himself that I didn't catch.
I thought to myself: Don't worry buddy, I'll still happily lick your butt later tonight. Just don't take any place in the cruiser ever again.
We spent the next two hours in the office at Stop 'N Shop talking to staff. Ruggazione wanted us there to hear first-hand the details of what might have gone on last Saturday night.
From what we could piece together, Danny, or somebody who looked an awful lot like Danny, came into the store around10:30 p.m., just before closing. Danny bought a banana, a granola bar, and a water and was at the express cashier checking out when a group of guys came up behind with a few sixers of beer. According to the cashier, Danny may have been dressed a little on the skimpy side. Somebody from the group of guys whistled, somebody made a comment about how tight his pants were.
Sounded like Danny.
Some words were exchanged. They taunted him. One member of the group tried to get his friends to shut up, but that apparently didn't work. They kept up. Somebody made a joke about Danny's banana, and Danny placed the fruit in a sexual position in front of his zipper.
After one guy called Danny a faggot, Danny apparently volunteered himself to receive a blow job from each member of the group. According to the cashier, they didn't politely decline.
Once they bought their beer, they followed Danny into the parking lot where Danny was waiting for them. The cashier was surprised that Danny didn't just take off once he got outside.
David and I agreed that this was sounding even more like Danny.
The cashier then saw the group surround Danny. Unfortunately another customer came up to her register about then and she was unable to see much else.
Outside in the parking lot, the sun was hot. I watched Ruggazione undo a button on his shirt. I tugged at my t shirt collar. David had gone white and made no adjustments.
The store manager escorted us.
When we arrived at the rack where people are supposed to put their shopping carts, we all looked down. There was a dark red puddle of dried blood on the asphalt. Just above it, there were dark red dots of dried blood on the railing of the shopping cart rack.
I was sick to my stomach.
David walked away, one hand over his mouth.
"This was not the spot where my employee saw the group of boys gather around your friend," the manager said quietly, looking directly at me.
He pointed to a place closer to the store windows.
"It started over there, apparently," he said. "But we didn't find any blood over there. Just here, by these bars."
I stared at Danny's blood. Holy fuck! What the hell happened here? My knees buckled and I stumbled, unable to hold myself up. Ruggazione caught me before I fell onto the pavement.
"I am very sorry about your friend. I wish we could have done more to help him," the manager said earnestly. He put a hand on my shoulder while Ruggazione held me. Across the parking lot, David was on his knees beside the police cruiser, his forehead bouncing against the rear fender.
We stood like this a while. Nobody said anything. Nobody moved.
Finally, Ruggazione spoke.
"I will get a forensics team here to sample this dried blood," he said.
Through my sobbing, I looked at my friend's blood on the shopping cart rack. I gripped Ruggazione harder and buried my face in his shoulder. He let me be while I cried for a long time. The manager went back inside. Ruggazione phoned a colleague at the station, more investigators would be here soon.
Still holding onto Ruggazione for dear life, I looked into his face. I never wanted to kiss somebody so much in my entire life. Instead I broke free and jogged over to where David lie on the cement.
I sat him upright and placed his head against my chest. He wasn't crying anymore. The sun beat down against my face as I mashed it up against David's hair.
Danny's hair.
I felt cold inside, chills coursed through me. David and I were both shivering.
I don't remember very much about the rest of what we did that day with Ruggazione.
I'm pretty sure we made a couple more stops before we headed back to the police station. I'm pretty sure we endured the stench and indignities of the New Haven police cruiser again. I'm pretty sure Ruggazione bought us lunch at some Italian place he knew, but I'm certain I didn't eat a bite of it. And I'm pretty sure that David and I barely spoke to one another.
The shock of seeing Danny's blood on the pavement, having dropped down the bars of that shopping cart rack, was just too much to bear. Hearing first hand from the Stop 'N Shop staff a description of exactly what transpired between Danny and that gang of thugs--what else could they be called?--made me sick.
While nobody could yet be certain, the whole set of events sure sounded like Danny Leeman. Danny would definitely be eating if he was out and about the night before a big race. Danny would also be the one stroking a banana in front of a crowd of strangers. And Danny would definitely stick around out in the parking lot, hoping that he might find at least one boy in the crowd who he could fuck. I knew it and Danny's brother David knew it.
Danny was definitely the guy whose blood we saw in that parking lot. And that scared the hell out of both of us. Where was he now?
When we got done with Ruggazione, we still hadn't found Max.
David and I agreed that we wanted to stay together. We needed to call his folks and tell them what we had learned. The idea of being alone in New Haven was a no go. Not after what we had just seen at the grocery store.
Ruggazione must have thought the same. He seemed to sense that we were totally freaked out. Which was true of course.
Ruggazione said that he had a quick errand to do, but then he would be glad to hook up with us later. Both David and I agreed immediately.
"I'll call you in an hour or so," Ruggazione said.
I nodded. Not sure what to say. It was really nice of him to offer to hang out.
"And guys," he added. "Call me Brian. I'm only a few years older than you. Enough of the Officer Ruggazione stuff."
"Okay," I agreed.
David did too. Brian it was.
We went back to the Omni Hotel.
Still no Max. He wasn't at the hotel like he said on the call earlier. That was just great! Now I had two friends who were lost in New Haven. It was turning out to be an even lousier week than I thought. I wanted to go home.
Just as his friend Tommy had requested, Brian Ruggazione checked out an extra pair of handcuffs from the supply room. He was happy to drop them off at Tommy's condo. Guys were always leaving their cuffs someplace, so it was really no big deal. Brian himself had misplaced his cuffs a few times. Nobody would think that these were for Tommy, and Brian had no intention of telling anyone who they were for. Brian had to admit that it was a little unlike Tommy to lose something, especially something like his cuffs. Tommy had to be one of the most careful and fastidious people that he knew.
If Brian timed things right, after he stopped by Tommy's, he could still get home and shower before he met up with the David and TJ.
He felt awful about today.
Danny's brother David and TJ should not have been at the Stop 'N Shop with him. The last thing that David and TJ needed was to see that blood-Danny's blood-all over the pavement! Brian should have followed up with the store manager on his own. He should never have brought the guys along for that horror show.
Brian had to admit to himself that this case was eating at him.
Obviously it was awful about Danny Leeman. It had been a full week since he had disappeared. Every day that passed made it that much less likely that anybody would ever see Danny again. In one piece that is. The odds were stacking up. People who were gone for a week were either long gone since they didn't want to be found, or else they were dead. From what Brian had learned, Danny didn't seem like the type to go off on his own--the guy seemed like he really thrived on human companionship--so it was unlikely that Danny had caused his own disappearance.
It was much more likely that Danny had been taken, and that he would not be coming back.
But why? That part made no sense.
This guy comes into town for a big track meet, he does a little partying, he happens to aggravate a group of guys out for some partying of their own on a Saturday night, but then the guy gets beaten up and kidnapped by a group of guys who just wanted to drink some beer?
That last bit about the partying was the most confusing of all.
From what he had learned, the guys were in the Stop 'N Shop to grab some beers and then head back to one of their houses probably, then have a little fun. It just didn't fit. Brian couldn't imagine that one of them said, "hey let's just bag this whole partying idea, let's bag this faggot instead!"
Policeman 101 courses taught quite a lot about kidnapping. Usually it was just a lone lunatic who did the kidnapping. At most, the lunatic might be working with a single accomplice, so two people max. Definitely not a group of guys who were cruising through Stop 'N Shop and just get a wild hair! They would simply not do a thing like this.
So why did they? Why would they take Danny?
This case didn't come together for Brian. It made his head spin. He could only imagine how it was making David and TJ feel. Poor guys.
Brian hoped that by getting together with David and with TJ tonight, he could get them to relax. As the cop in charge of the investigation, it was his job to help. However he could help. He'd taken a pledge to serve.
Serving tonight would involve being served a couple drinks. They were underage to drink in Connecticut, but Brian didn't give a shit about that. In fact, maybe a little liquid truth serum would get the boys to talk, cough something up that could help in the investigation. He could use a break in the case, fill in that final piece of the puzzle that he needed. Hopefully there was something else. Anything!
Of course at the end of the day, the odds were still pretty lousy for Danny. All things considered, they were unlikely to find him alive after seven days. Danny would still be dead, but, well, at least Brian would have done his job and the Leeman family would get some closure.
But Brian was troubled by more than the Danny Leeman investigation. There was still something else, something Brian had been able to bring to front of his mind. Something that was tugging at him in a different way.
Brian walked to his car, trying to figure out what it was that eating away at him.
Why had he brought the victims brother and his friend along with him to the Stop 'N Shop? Why didn't he go by himself, as he should have? Why was he so intrigued by the unusual friendship that existed between Danny Leeman and TJ? Why did TJ look at Brian the way he did? And who was this third friend-TJ called him Max-that was apparently here to help, but didn't happen to show up all day?
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. He unlocked the door with a click.
Getting into his car, Brian threw the envelope with the spare cuffs into the backseat.
It had been a long day, and there was still more to come. He thought about this morning at the gym, after his class. What had been on his mind when he was in the shower cleaning up? Or rather, who had been on his mind? A familiar image filled his head
Buckling in, Brian caught a reflection of his own face in the mirror. His lips were curled up at both ends, he was smiling.
He knew who he was thinking about. He knew why he had a grin on his face. But he pushed the thought away. He had a job to do right now.
First drop off the cuffs for Tommy. Second, if possible, find out why Tommy's acting weird. Then, meet the boys and ply them for information that would solve the case.
Only then would he focus on himself. Only then would he let himself relax a bit.
Despite the knowledge that he knew he had to extract from the guys, it surprised him to realize that a part of him was actually looking forward to this evening. He knew that was what was making his stomach churn. When he met up with the guys for dinner, he figured that a lot of this would become very clear.
Tonight he would know.
First, he had said that he was going outside for some fresh air.Then, after having breathed enough fresh air, he was back. Then he was gone again, the second time with no explanation, but he did have a pained expression on his face.
Max was not a patient dude.
I was patient, but David Leeman and I were getting a little tired of waiting in the stupid little waiting area just inside of the New Haven police station. A few people had come out to see what it was that we were here for, but nobody seemed to know exactly where Officer Ruggazione was.
Even though it was Ruggazione we were waiting for, I was starting to get pissed off.
I already had a pained expression on my own face. And, I could probably use some fresh air ourselves. As soon as I went outside, he'd probably show up however.
"Should we ask to speak to a supervisor or something?" I asked David. He was staring at the ground, lost in thought.
"Naw," David said. "He's been like this all week. Ever since I arrived in town, Ruggazione has been late to our meetings. Every time."
"Oh," I said, not feeling un-pissed off yet.
It was a good thing the policeman was so fucking cute.
I stood up. To either stretch my legs or walk outside, I hadn't really decided.
And then, just in the nick of time, just when I was about to banish Ruggazione from my sexual fantasies for the week, he appeared. Finally!
Okay, he's back in.
I smiled as he walked up. It was nearly seven days since I'd seen him. Officer Brian Ruggazione somehow looked better than I had been picturing him all week. Here in real life however, he had his uniform on. And he wasn't strapped to a sling wearing nothing but a chest harness.
"So sorry, guys!" Ruggazione said. He looked a little worn out. More so than he was when I'd been with him last Sunday afternoon.
"I didn't mean to keep you waiting. Busy morning here I'm afraid."
Well, I know exactly how you can make it up to me. Come over here, let's talk. All is forgiven.
David and I stood up. Ruggazione approached us, one arm out. I stared at his hands, his fingers seemed strong. Thicker than I had remembered.
"It's okay. Good to see you again," I said. I stretched my arms out to give him a bro hug. He paused and had a confused look on his face. Come on man, it's just a bro hug.
Awkwardly, I readjusted and shook his hand, somehow grabbing his wrist more than I intended. I turned red while David shook his hand next.
"Hey," David said.
"Hey," Ruggazione said.
He brought us through the locked door and into the inside of the station. Just as we entered, I looked around one last time for Max, but he was nowhere to be found. Oh well, he was a big boy and we'd find him later.
We were seated on a conference room that was more like a fishbowl than a private talking area. A fishbowl with unbreakable glass on two sides. Outside our fishbowl, the place was rocking.
Ruggazione offered us some water, which we both accepted. He brought three Styrofoam cups from the water cooler. After a pointless discussion of my train ride into New Haven and what we had for dinner last night across from the Green, Ruggazione finally got down to business.
"So, we have a promising new lead," he started.
I watched David's face brighten. This would be the first good news that there had been all week since Danny disappeared.
"Is it a good new lead or a bad one?" David asked.
Oh that. David had obviously been here all week. He had more to be cynical about than I did.
Ruggazione shrugged.
"Hard to say," he said.
David and I looked at him, wanting him to go on.
"Okay, here it is," Ruggazione said, after a pause, realizing we had nothing else to say.
David and I stared at him. David for obvious reasons. Me for those too, but with a little hopeful lust sprinkled in as well. He must have sensed our hope. He held both arms up, palms down, maybe some universal police sign language for 'how the fuck should I know?'
"We still have a lot of work to do. To find Danny. But at least we have something more than we did a few days ago. So it might be good news, it might be bad, we won't know till we get over there and talk to them," he said.
Each word that would come out of his mouth would get us just a little closer to having Danny back. Okay, okay, go on.
"A report came in from a grocery store in town," Ruggazione started.
A grocery store? Danny was out shopping for food? On a Saturday night?
"Some guy got roughed up a bit, outside the store. It was reported on Sunday, but we didn't immediately make the connection with Danny's disappearance till now."
David and I looked at each other. Neither of us got it.
"Roughed up?" David asked.
"Beaten up." Ruggazione said succinctly.
"Beaten up? I don't get it," David said.
"Fag bashed."
"Fag bashed!" David and I said at the same time.
"What the fuck?" I said, forgetting momentarily that maybe there is some unwritten rule. You're not supposed to say 'fuck' to a police officer.
Ruggazione pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. David buried his face in his hands.
"Shit!" I said. My eyes started to tear up.
I put an arm onto David's neck. He was already weeping lightly.
"We aren't absolutely certain. It could have been something else, of course. It might not have been a fag bash. But this is what the person who reported the crime thought was happening."
"Crime?" I asked. "This was a crime?"
David lifted his face away from his palms and looked up at Ruggazione.
"Yes TJ. It was a crime. That's what we call it when somebody gets beaten up outside of a grocery store. In fact, if it was a fag bash, that's a hate crime."
"A hate crime! Shit!" I said again.
"So, was he hurt? Did he go to a hospital? Do we know anything about that? Has someone checked the hospitals in the area?" I asked.
Ruggazione nodded again. Of course, they had checked the hospitals. They did that on the very first day of Danny's disappearance, he explained.
There was silence. Ruggazione didn't say a word for a whole minute, apparently wanting us to digest what he had just told us. Teardrops streamed down my face, finding their way into my mouth. I licked a few salty ones from my upper lip. I rubbed my eyes with a fist and looked out the glass at the busy office, abuzz with activity.
David sobbed lightly into his hands. I rubbed his neck, making it wet with my tears. Then I looked again at the policeman sitting across from us.
"Was there like any blood or anything?" You know, where this happened?" I asked. I hoped he would say no.
"Yes," he said simply. "There was some blood."
I shook my head. I couldn't stand to think of somebody hurting Danny. This wasn't fucking happening!
My eyes filled up again.
"A lot, or a little?"
Ruggazione shook his head.
"I don't know. That wasn't in the report. But we need to go over to the market and see for ourselves today. Talk to the store manager, along with a few of the employees who were on duty last Saturday night."
David continued to sob quietly. I wondered if he could do this. Well, somebody had to. I would be the strong one for both of us.
"Today?" I asked. "You want to go to the market today?"
"Yes."
I sniffed. My face was streaked with tears. I could only imagine how red my eyes were. An image flashed across my mind. I was going to be inside of a police car, for the first time of my life. That was exactly how a lot of scenes in porno movies got started!
"In the squad car? Are we going to take the squad car?"
"We call it a cruiser," Ruggazione replied.
Right.
"Are we going to take the cruiser?"
That got a laugh out of David. He knew exactly where my brain had gone.
"Yes TJ, we will take a cruiser," he answered with a half grin. "But don't get too excited, it's unmarked. And probably pretty filthy."
Good. Filthy was okay. So long as David and I got to ride in the back.
Ten minutes, David and I had gotten ourselves together and stood outside by Ruggazione's cruiser.
I called Max to let him know that we were leaving. For the first time since I'd known him, he took four rings to answer. He was apparently back at the hotel. But that didn't sound very Max-like behavior, so I had my doubts he was telling me the truth. He said that the whole missing persons, police station business had gotten to him. That was why he had that goofy look on his face, he said. He would be glad to meet us for dinner when we were done for the day.
No big deal. Max wasn't really a friend of Danny's anyhow. So, there would be more room in the cruiser for me and David. And Ruggazione.
The back seat of the cruiser was more disgusting than anything I could have imagined. The seats were greasy, there was gross stuff on the floor that I couldn't identify, and it smelled like concentrated feet.
Ruggazione explained that this particular unit was used only by the junior detectives in the New Haven police department. The department had a sort of pecking order of filthiness. Due to financial cutbacks, washes and wipe downs were reserved for the higher level staff only. UntilRuggazione had a few more years under his belt, he had to drive one of the dirtiest cars. Apparently, even this one was an improvement on what they gave to the rookie cops.
I didn't even want to think about that.
Ruggazione insisted that nobody had actually died inside this particular car. Judging by the stench, I wasn't too sure.
While Ruggazione drove, David and I held our noses and tried not to touch anything. I hoped for a short drive to the grocery store.
I put my police car fantasy with Ruggazione on hold while I endured the horribleness of it all. My dick, however, had no sense of smell, and lengthened out to at least a semi hard-on as soon as I buckled up in the back seat behind the cage.
My dick is an amazing thing. Clearly I am not in charge when it's sick little mind is made up.
We pulled into the parking lot of a Stop 'N Shop, and Ruggazione slipped the cruiser into a spot close to the entrance. I was out of the car before he turned the engine off. David did the same
"Have you got a wipe?" I asked Ruggazione once he was out of the car too.
"A what?"
"My mom used to carry those wet wipes, you know, whenever we would... Never mind, I sound like an idiot," I said. I was not usually a neat freak, but well, this was different.
He smiled at me for the first time that day. His eyes seemed to catch the tenting in my jeans.
"You can get one inside Mr. Clean. They have then for the carts."
"Good!" David and I said at the exact same time. Ruggazione laughed and mumbled something to himself that I didn't catch.
I thought to myself: Don't worry buddy, I'll still happily lick your butt later tonight. Just don't take any place in the cruiser ever again.
We spent the next two hours in the office at Stop 'N Shop talking to staff. Ruggazione wanted us there to hear first-hand the details of what might have gone on last Saturday night.
From what we could piece together, Danny, or somebody who looked an awful lot like Danny, came into the store around10:30 p.m., just before closing. Danny bought a banana, a granola bar, and a water and was at the express cashier checking out when a group of guys came up behind with a few sixers of beer. According to the cashier, Danny may have been dressed a little on the skimpy side. Somebody from the group of guys whistled, somebody made a comment about how tight his pants were.
Sounded like Danny.
Some words were exchanged. They taunted him. One member of the group tried to get his friends to shut up, but that apparently didn't work. They kept up. Somebody made a joke about Danny's banana, and Danny placed the fruit in a sexual position in front of his zipper.
After one guy called Danny a faggot, Danny apparently volunteered himself to receive a blow job from each member of the group. According to the cashier, they didn't politely decline.
Once they bought their beer, they followed Danny into the parking lot where Danny was waiting for them. The cashier was surprised that Danny didn't just take off once he got outside.
David and I agreed that this was sounding even more like Danny.
The cashier then saw the group surround Danny. Unfortunately another customer came up to her register about then and she was unable to see much else.
Outside in the parking lot, the sun was hot. I watched Ruggazione undo a button on his shirt. I tugged at my t shirt collar. David had gone white and made no adjustments.
The store manager escorted us.
When we arrived at the rack where people are supposed to put their shopping carts, we all looked down. There was a dark red puddle of dried blood on the asphalt. Just above it, there were dark red dots of dried blood on the railing of the shopping cart rack.
I was sick to my stomach.
David walked away, one hand over his mouth.
"This was not the spot where my employee saw the group of boys gather around your friend," the manager said quietly, looking directly at me.
He pointed to a place closer to the store windows.
"It started over there, apparently," he said. "But we didn't find any blood over there. Just here, by these bars."
I stared at Danny's blood. Holy fuck! What the hell happened here? My knees buckled and I stumbled, unable to hold myself up. Ruggazione caught me before I fell onto the pavement.
"I am very sorry about your friend. I wish we could have done more to help him," the manager said earnestly. He put a hand on my shoulder while Ruggazione held me. Across the parking lot, David was on his knees beside the police cruiser, his forehead bouncing against the rear fender.
We stood like this a while. Nobody said anything. Nobody moved.
Finally, Ruggazione spoke.
"I will get a forensics team here to sample this dried blood," he said.
Through my sobbing, I looked at my friend's blood on the shopping cart rack. I gripped Ruggazione harder and buried my face in his shoulder. He let me be while I cried for a long time. The manager went back inside. Ruggazione phoned a colleague at the station, more investigators would be here soon.
Still holding onto Ruggazione for dear life, I looked into his face. I never wanted to kiss somebody so much in my entire life. Instead I broke free and jogged over to where David lie on the cement.
I sat him upright and placed his head against my chest. He wasn't crying anymore. The sun beat down against my face as I mashed it up against David's hair.
Danny's hair.
I felt cold inside, chills coursed through me. David and I were both shivering.
I don't remember very much about the rest of what we did that day with Ruggazione.
I'm pretty sure we made a couple more stops before we headed back to the police station. I'm pretty sure we endured the stench and indignities of the New Haven police cruiser again. I'm pretty sure Ruggazione bought us lunch at some Italian place he knew, but I'm certain I didn't eat a bite of it. And I'm pretty sure that David and I barely spoke to one another.
The shock of seeing Danny's blood on the pavement, having dropped down the bars of that shopping cart rack, was just too much to bear. Hearing first hand from the Stop 'N Shop staff a description of exactly what transpired between Danny and that gang of thugs--what else could they be called?--made me sick.
While nobody could yet be certain, the whole set of events sure sounded like Danny Leeman. Danny would definitely be eating if he was out and about the night before a big race. Danny would also be the one stroking a banana in front of a crowd of strangers. And Danny would definitely stick around out in the parking lot, hoping that he might find at least one boy in the crowd who he could fuck. I knew it and Danny's brother David knew it.
Danny was definitely the guy whose blood we saw in that parking lot. And that scared the hell out of both of us. Where was he now?
When we got done with Ruggazione, we still hadn't found Max.
David and I agreed that we wanted to stay together. We needed to call his folks and tell them what we had learned. The idea of being alone in New Haven was a no go. Not after what we had just seen at the grocery store.
Ruggazione must have thought the same. He seemed to sense that we were totally freaked out. Which was true of course.
Ruggazione said that he had a quick errand to do, but then he would be glad to hook up with us later. Both David and I agreed immediately.
"I'll call you in an hour or so," Ruggazione said.
I nodded. Not sure what to say. It was really nice of him to offer to hang out.
"And guys," he added. "Call me Brian. I'm only a few years older than you. Enough of the Officer Ruggazione stuff."
"Okay," I agreed.
David did too. Brian it was.
We went back to the Omni Hotel.
Still no Max. He wasn't at the hotel like he said on the call earlier. That was just great! Now I had two friends who were lost in New Haven. It was turning out to be an even lousier week than I thought. I wanted to go home.
Just as his friend Tommy had requested, Brian Ruggazione checked out an extra pair of handcuffs from the supply room. He was happy to drop them off at Tommy's condo. Guys were always leaving their cuffs someplace, so it was really no big deal. Brian himself had misplaced his cuffs a few times. Nobody would think that these were for Tommy, and Brian had no intention of telling anyone who they were for. Brian had to admit that it was a little unlike Tommy to lose something, especially something like his cuffs. Tommy had to be one of the most careful and fastidious people that he knew.
If Brian timed things right, after he stopped by Tommy's, he could still get home and shower before he met up with the David and TJ.
He felt awful about today.
Danny's brother David and TJ should not have been at the Stop 'N Shop with him. The last thing that David and TJ needed was to see that blood-Danny's blood-all over the pavement! Brian should have followed up with the store manager on his own. He should never have brought the guys along for that horror show.
Brian had to admit to himself that this case was eating at him.
Obviously it was awful about Danny Leeman. It had been a full week since he had disappeared. Every day that passed made it that much less likely that anybody would ever see Danny again. In one piece that is. The odds were stacking up. People who were gone for a week were either long gone since they didn't want to be found, or else they were dead. From what Brian had learned, Danny didn't seem like the type to go off on his own--the guy seemed like he really thrived on human companionship--so it was unlikely that Danny had caused his own disappearance.
It was much more likely that Danny had been taken, and that he would not be coming back.
But why? That part made no sense.
This guy comes into town for a big track meet, he does a little partying, he happens to aggravate a group of guys out for some partying of their own on a Saturday night, but then the guy gets beaten up and kidnapped by a group of guys who just wanted to drink some beer?
That last bit about the partying was the most confusing of all.
From what he had learned, the guys were in the Stop 'N Shop to grab some beers and then head back to one of their houses probably, then have a little fun. It just didn't fit. Brian couldn't imagine that one of them said, "hey let's just bag this whole partying idea, let's bag this faggot instead!"
Policeman 101 courses taught quite a lot about kidnapping. Usually it was just a lone lunatic who did the kidnapping. At most, the lunatic might be working with a single accomplice, so two people max. Definitely not a group of guys who were cruising through Stop 'N Shop and just get a wild hair! They would simply not do a thing like this.
So why did they? Why would they take Danny?
This case didn't come together for Brian. It made his head spin. He could only imagine how it was making David and TJ feel. Poor guys.
Brian hoped that by getting together with David and with TJ tonight, he could get them to relax. As the cop in charge of the investigation, it was his job to help. However he could help. He'd taken a pledge to serve.
Serving tonight would involve being served a couple drinks. They were underage to drink in Connecticut, but Brian didn't give a shit about that. In fact, maybe a little liquid truth serum would get the boys to talk, cough something up that could help in the investigation. He could use a break in the case, fill in that final piece of the puzzle that he needed. Hopefully there was something else. Anything!
Of course at the end of the day, the odds were still pretty lousy for Danny. All things considered, they were unlikely to find him alive after seven days. Danny would still be dead, but, well, at least Brian would have done his job and the Leeman family would get some closure.
But Brian was troubled by more than the Danny Leeman investigation. There was still something else, something Brian had been able to bring to front of his mind. Something that was tugging at him in a different way.
Brian walked to his car, trying to figure out what it was that eating away at him.
Why had he brought the victims brother and his friend along with him to the Stop 'N Shop? Why didn't he go by himself, as he should have? Why was he so intrigued by the unusual friendship that existed between Danny Leeman and TJ? Why did TJ look at Brian the way he did? And who was this third friend-TJ called him Max-that was apparently here to help, but didn't happen to show up all day?
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. He unlocked the door with a click.
Getting into his car, Brian threw the envelope with the spare cuffs into the backseat.
It had been a long day, and there was still more to come. He thought about this morning at the gym, after his class. What had been on his mind when he was in the shower cleaning up? Or rather, who had been on his mind? A familiar image filled his head
Buckling in, Brian caught a reflection of his own face in the mirror. His lips were curled up at both ends, he was smiling.
He knew who he was thinking about. He knew why he had a grin on his face. But he pushed the thought away. He had a job to do right now.
First drop off the cuffs for Tommy. Second, if possible, find out why Tommy's acting weird. Then, meet the boys and ply them for information that would solve the case.
Only then would he focus on himself. Only then would he let himself relax a bit.
Despite the knowledge that he knew he had to extract from the guys, it surprised him to realize that a part of him was actually looking forward to this evening. He knew that was what was making his stomach churn. When he met up with the guys for dinner, he figured that a lot of this would become very clear.
Tonight he would know.
- - - Updated - - -
Where on earth was Max?
First, he had said that he was going outside for some fresh air.Then, after having breathed enough fresh air, he was back. Then he was gone again, the second time with no explanation, but he did have a pained expression on his face.
Max was not a patient dude.
I was patient, but David Leeman and I were getting a little tired of waiting in the stupid little waiting area just inside of the New Haven police station. A few people had come out to see what it was that we were here for, but nobody seemed to know exactly where Officer Ruggazione was.
Even though it was Ruggazione we were waiting for, I was starting to get pissed off.
I already had a pained expression on my own face. And, I could probably use some fresh air ourselves. As soon as I went outside, he'd probably show up however.
"Should we ask to speak to a supervisor or something?" I asked David. He was staring at the ground, lost in thought.
"Naw," David said. "He's been like this all week. Ever since I arrived in town, Ruggazione has been late to our meetings. Every time."
"Oh," I said, not feeling un-pissed off yet.
It was a good thing the policeman was so fucking cute.
I stood up. To either stretch my legs or walk outside, I hadn't really decided.
And then, just in the nick of time, just when I was about to banish Ruggazione from my sexual fantasies for the week, he appeared. Finally!
Okay, he's back in.
I smiled as he walked up. It was nearly seven days since I'd seen him. Officer Brian Ruggazione somehow looked better than I had been picturing him all week. Here in real life however, he had his uniform on. And he wasn't strapped to a sling wearing nothing but a chest harness.
"So sorry, guys!" Ruggazione said. He looked a little worn out. More so than he was when I'd been with him last Sunday afternoon.
"I didn't mean to keep you waiting. Busy morning here I'm afraid."
Well, I know exactly how you can make it up to me. Come over here, let's talk. All is forgiven.
David and I stood up. Ruggazione approached us, one arm out. I stared at his hands, his fingers seemed strong. Thicker than I had remembered.
"It's okay. Good to see you again," I said. I stretched my arms out to give him a bro hug. He paused and had a confused look on his face. Come on man, it's just a bro hug.
Awkwardly, I readjusted and shook his hand, somehow grabbing his wrist more than I intended. I turned red while David shook his hand next.
"Hey," David said.
"Hey," Ruggazione said.
He brought us through the locked door and into the inside of the station. Just as we entered, I looked around one last time for Max, but he was nowhere to be found. Oh well, he was a big boy and we'd find him later.
We were seated on a conference room that was more like a fishbowl than a private talking area. A fishbowl with unbreakable glass on two sides. Outside our fishbowl, the place was rocking.
Ruggazione offered us some water, which we both accepted. He brought three Styrofoam cups from the water cooler. After a pointless discussion of my train ride into New Haven and what we had for dinner last night across from the Green, Ruggazione finally got down to business.
"So, we have a promising new lead," he started.
I watched David's face brighten. This would be the first good news that there had been all week since Danny disappeared.
"Is it a good new lead or a bad one?" David asked.
Oh that. David had obviously been here all week. He had more to be cynical about than I did.
Ruggazione shrugged.
"Hard to say," he said.
David and I looked at him, wanting him to go on.
"Okay, here it is," Ruggazione said, after a pause, realizing we had nothing else to say.
David and I stared at him. David for obvious reasons. Me for those too, but with a little hopeful lust sprinkled in as well. He must have sensed our hope. He held both arms up, palms down, maybe some universal police sign language for 'how the fuck should I know?'
"We still have a lot of work to do. To find Danny. But at least we have something more than we did a few days ago. So it might be good news, it might be bad, we won't know till we get over there and talk to them," he said.
Each word that would come out of his mouth would get us just a little closer to having Danny back. Okay, okay, go on.
"A report came in from a grocery store in town," Ruggazione started.
A grocery store? Danny was out shopping for food? On a Saturday night?
"Some guy got roughed up a bit, outside the store. It was reported on Sunday, but we didn't immediately make the connection with Danny's disappearance till now."
David and I looked at each other. Neither of us got it.
"Roughed up?" David asked.
"Beaten up." Ruggazione said succinctly.
"Beaten up? I don't get it," David said.
"Fag bashed."
"Fag bashed!" David and I said at the same time.
"What the fuck?" I said, forgetting momentarily that maybe there is some unwritten rule. You're not supposed to say 'fuck' to a police officer.
Ruggazione pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. David buried his face in his hands.
"Shit!" I said. My eyes started to tear up.
I put an arm onto David's neck. He was already weeping lightly.
"We aren't absolutely certain. It could have been something else, of course. It might not have been a fag bash. But this is what the person who reported the crime thought was happening."
"Crime?" I asked. "This was a crime?"
David lifted his face away from his palms and looked up at Ruggazione.
"Yes TJ. It was a crime. That's what we call it when somebody gets beaten up outside of a grocery store. In fact, if it was a fag bash, that's a hate crime."
"A hate crime! Shit!" I said again.
"So, was he hurt? Did he go to a hospital? Do we know anything about that? Has someone checked the hospitals in the area?" I asked.
Ruggazione nodded again. Of course, they had checked the hospitals. They did that on the very first day of Danny's disappearance, he explained.
There was silence. Ruggazione didn't say a word for a whole minute, apparently wanting us to digest what he had just told us. Teardrops streamed down my face, finding their way into my mouth. I licked a few salty ones from my upper lip. I rubbed my eyes with a fist and looked out the glass at the busy office, abuzz with activity.
David sobbed lightly into his hands. I rubbed his neck, making it wet with my tears. Then I looked again at the policeman sitting across from us.
"Was there like any blood or anything?" You know, where this happened?" I asked. I hoped he would say no.
"Yes," he said simply. "There was some blood."
I shook my head. I couldn't stand to think of somebody hurting Danny. This wasn't fucking happening!
My eyes filled up again.
"A lot, or a little?"
Ruggazione shook his head.
"I don't know. That wasn't in the report. But we need to go over to the market and see for ourselves today. Talk to the store manager, along with a few of the employees who were on duty last Saturday night."
David continued to sob quietly. I wondered if he could do this. Well, somebody had to. I would be the strong one for both of us.
"Today?" I asked. "You want to go to the market today?"
"Yes."
I sniffed. My face was streaked with tears. I could only imagine how red my eyes were. An image flashed across my mind. I was going to be inside of a police car, for the first time of my life. That was exactly how a lot of scenes in porno movies got started!
"In the squad car? Are we going to take the squad car?"
"We call it a cruiser," Ruggazione replied.
Right.
"Are we going to take the cruiser?"
That got a laugh out of David. He knew exactly where my brain had gone.
"Yes TJ, we will take a cruiser," he answered with a half grin. "But don't get too excited, it's unmarked. And probably pretty filthy."
Good. Filthy was okay. So long as David and I got to ride in the back.
Ten minutes, David and I had gotten ourselves together and stood outside by Ruggazione's cruiser.
I called Max to let him know that we were leaving. For the first time since I'd known him, he took four rings to answer. He was apparently back at the hotel. But that didn't sound very Max-like behavior, so I had my doubts he was telling me the truth. He said that the whole missing persons, police station business had gotten to him. That was why he had that goofy look on his face, he said. He would be glad to meet us for dinner when we were done for the day.
No big deal. Max wasn't really a friend of Danny's anyhow. So, there would be more room in the cruiser for me and David. And Ruggazione.
The back seat of the cruiser was more disgusting than anything I could have imagined. The seats were greasy, there was gross stuff on the floor that I couldn't identify, and it smelled like concentrated feet.
Ruggazione explained that this particular unit was used only by the junior detectives in the New Haven police department. The department had a sort of pecking order of filthiness. Due to financial cutbacks, washes and wipe downs were reserved for the higher level staff only. UntilRuggazione had a few more years under his belt, he had to drive one of the dirtiest cars. Apparently, even this one was an improvement on what they gave to the rookie cops.
I didn't even want to think about that.
Ruggazione insisted that nobody had actually died inside this particular car. Judging by the stench, I wasn't too sure.
While Ruggazione drove, David and I held our noses and tried not to touch anything. I hoped for a short drive to the grocery store.
I put my police car fantasy with Ruggazione on hold while I endured the horribleness of it all. My dick, however, had no sense of smell, and lengthened out to at least a semi hard-on as soon as I buckled up in the back seat behind the cage.
My dick is an amazing thing. Clearly I am not in charge when it's sick little mind is made up.
We pulled into the parking lot of a Stop 'N Shop, and Ruggazione slipped the cruiser into a spot close to the entrance. I was out of the car before he turned the engine off. David did the same
"Have you got a wipe?" I asked Ruggazione once he was out of the car too.
"A what?"
"My mom used to carry those wet wipes, you know, whenever we would... Never mind, I sound like an idiot," I said. I was not usually a neat freak, but well, this was different.
He smiled at me for the first time that day. His eyes seemed to catch the tenting in my jeans.
"You can get one inside Mr. Clean. They have then for the carts."
"Good!" David and I said at the exact same time. Ruggazione laughed and mumbled something to himself that I didn't catch.
I thought to myself: Don't worry buddy, I'll still happily lick your butt later tonight. Just don't take any place in the cruiser ever again.
We spent the next two hours in the office at Stop 'N Shop talking to staff. Ruggazione wanted us there to hear first-hand the details of what might have gone on last Saturday night.
From what we could piece together, Danny, or somebody who looked an awful lot like Danny, came into the store around10:30 p.m., just before closing. Danny bought a banana, a granola bar, and a water and was at the express cashier checking out when a group of guys came up behind with a few sixers of beer. According to the cashier, Danny may have been dressed a little on the skimpy side. Somebody from the group of guys whistled, somebody made a comment about how tight his pants were.
Sounded like Danny.
Some words were exchanged. They taunted him. One member of the group tried to get his friends to shut up, but that apparently didn't work. They kept up. Somebody made a joke about Danny's banana, and Danny placed the fruit in a sexual position in front of his zipper.
After one guy called Danny a faggot, Danny apparently volunteered himself to receive a blow job from each member of the group. According to the cashier, they didn't politely decline.
Once they bought their beer, they followed Danny into the parking lot where Danny was waiting for them. The cashier was surprised that Danny didn't just take off once he got outside.
David and I agreed that this was sounding even more like Danny.
The cashier then saw the group surround Danny. Unfortunately another customer came up to her register about then and she was unable to see much else.
Outside in the parking lot, the sun was hot. I watched Ruggazione undo a button on his shirt. I tugged at my t shirt collar. David had gone white and made no adjustments.
The store manager escorted us.
When we arrived at the rack where people are supposed to put their shopping carts, we all looked down. There was a dark red puddle of dried blood on the asphalt. Just above it, there were dark red dots of dried blood on the railing of the shopping cart rack.
I was sick to my stomach.
David walked away, one hand over his mouth.
"This was not the spot where my employee saw the group of boys gather around your friend," the manager said quietly, looking directly at me.
He pointed to a place closer to the store windows.
"It started over there, apparently," he said. "But we didn't find any blood over there. Just here, by these bars."
I stared at Danny's blood. Holy fuck! What the hell happened here? My knees buckled and I stumbled, unable to hold myself up. Ruggazione caught me before I fell onto the pavement.
"I am very sorry about your friend. I wish we could have done more to help him," the manager said earnestly. He put a hand on my shoulder while Ruggazione held me. Across the parking lot, David was on his knees beside the police cruiser, his forehead bouncing against the rear fender.
We stood like this a while. Nobody said anything. Nobody moved.
Finally, Ruggazione spoke.
"I will get a forensics team here to sample this dried blood," he said.
Through my sobbing, I looked at my friend's blood on the shopping cart rack. I gripped Ruggazione harder and buried my face in his shoulder. He let me be while I cried for a long time. The manager went back inside. Ruggazione phoned a colleague at the station, more investigators would be here soon.
Still holding onto Ruggazione for dear life, I looked into his face. I never wanted to kiss somebody so much in my entire life. Instead I broke free and jogged over to where David lie on the cement.
I sat him upright and placed his head against my chest. He wasn't crying anymore. The sun beat down against my face as I mashed it up against David's hair.
Danny's hair.
I felt cold inside, chills coursed through me. David and I were both shivering.
I don't remember very much about the rest of what we did that day with Ruggazione.
I'm pretty sure we made a couple more stops before we headed back to the police station. I'm pretty sure we endured the stench and indignities of the New Haven police cruiser again. I'm pretty sure Ruggazione bought us lunch at some Italian place he knew, but I'm certain I didn't eat a bite of it. And I'm pretty sure that David and I barely spoke to one another.
The shock of seeing Danny's blood on the pavement, having dropped down the bars of that shopping cart rack, was just too much to bear. Hearing first hand from the Stop 'N Shop staff a description of exactly what transpired between Danny and that gang of thugs--what else could they be called?--made me sick.
While nobody could yet be certain, the whole set of events sure sounded like Danny Leeman. Danny would definitely be eating if he was out and about the night before a big race. Danny would also be the one stroking a banana in front of a crowd of strangers. And Danny would definitely stick around out in the parking lot, hoping that he might find at least one boy in the crowd who he could fuck. I knew it and Danny's brother David knew it.
Danny was definitely the guy whose blood we saw in that parking lot. And that scared the hell out of both of us. Where was he now?
When we got done with Ruggazione, we still hadn't found Max.
David and I agreed that we wanted to stay together. We needed to call his folks and tell them what we had learned. The idea of being alone in New Haven was a no go. Not after what we had just seen at the grocery store.
Ruggazione must have thought the same. He seemed to sense that we were totally freaked out. Which was true of course.
Ruggazione said that he had a quick errand to do, but then he would be glad to hook up with us later. Both David and I agreed immediately.
"I'll call you in an hour or so," Ruggazione said.
I nodded. Not sure what to say. It was really nice of him to offer to hang out.
"And guys," he added. "Call me Brian. I'm only a few years older than you. Enough of the Officer Ruggazione stuff."
"Okay," I agreed.
David did too. Brian it was.
We went back to the Omni Hotel.
Still no Max. He wasn't at the hotel like he said on the call earlier. That was just great! Now I had two friends who were lost in New Haven. It was turning out to be an even lousier week than I thought. I wanted to go home.
Just as his friend Tommy had requested, Brian Ruggazione checked out an extra pair of handcuffs from the supply room. He was happy to drop them off at Tommy's condo. Guys were always leaving their cuffs someplace, so it was really no big deal. Brian himself had misplaced his cuffs a few times. Nobody would think that these were for Tommy, and Brian had no intention of telling anyone who they were for. Brian had to admit that it was a little unlike Tommy to lose something, especially something like his cuffs. Tommy had to be one of the most careful and fastidious people that he knew.
If Brian timed things right, after he stopped by Tommy's, he could still get home and shower before he met up with the David and TJ.
He felt awful about today.
Danny's brother David and TJ should not have been at the Stop 'N Shop with him. The last thing that David and TJ needed was to see that blood-Danny's blood-all over the pavement! Brian should have followed up with the store manager on his own. He should never have brought the guys along for that horror show.
Brian had to admit to himself that this case was eating at him.
Obviously it was awful about Danny Leeman. It had been a full week since he had disappeared. Every day that passed made it that much less likely that anybody would ever see Danny again. In one piece that is. The odds were stacking up. People who were gone for a week were either long gone since they didn't want to be found, or else they were dead. From what Brian had learned, Danny didn't seem like the type to go off on his own--the guy seemed like he really thrived on human companionship--so it was unlikely that Danny had caused his own disappearance.
It was much more likely that Danny had been taken, and that he would not be coming back.
But why? That part made no sense.
This guy comes into town for a big track meet, he does a little partying, he happens to aggravate a group of guys out for some partying of their own on a Saturday night, but then the guy gets beaten up and kidnapped by a group of guys who just wanted to drink some beer?
That last bit about the partying was the most confusing of all.
From what he had learned, the guys were in the Stop 'N Shop to grab some beers and then head back to one of their houses probably, then have a little fun. It just didn't fit. Brian couldn't imagine that one of them said, "hey let's just bag this whole partying idea, let's bag this faggot instead!"
Policeman 101 courses taught quite a lot about kidnapping. Usually it was just a lone lunatic who did the kidnapping. At most, the lunatic might be working with a single accomplice, so two people max. Definitely not a group of guys who were cruising through Stop 'N Shop and just get a wild hair! They would simply not do a thing like this.
So why did they? Why would they take Danny?
This case didn't come together for Brian. It made his head spin. He could only imagine how it was making David and TJ feel. Poor guys.
Brian hoped that by getting together with David and with TJ tonight, he could get them to relax. As the cop in charge of the investigation, it was his job to help. However he could help. He'd taken a pledge to serve.
Serving tonight would involve being served a couple drinks. They were underage to drink in Connecticut, but Brian didn't give a shit about that. In fact, maybe a little liquid truth serum would get the boys to talk, cough something up that could help in the investigation. He could use a break in the case, fill in that final piece of the puzzle that he needed. Hopefully there was something else. Anything!
Of course at the end of the day, the odds were still pretty lousy for Danny. All things considered, they were unlikely to find him alive after seven days. Danny would still be dead, but, well, at least Brian would have done his job and the Leeman family would get some closure.
But Brian was troubled by more than the Danny Leeman investigation. There was still something else, something Brian had been able to bring to front of his mind. Something that was tugging at him in a different way.
Brian walked to his car, trying to figure out what it was that eating away at him.
Why had he brought the victims brother and his friend along with him to the Stop 'N Shop? Why didn't he go by himself, as he should have? Why was he so intrigued by the unusual friendship that existed between Danny Leeman and TJ? Why did TJ look at Brian the way he did? And who was this third friend-TJ called him Max-that was apparently here to help, but didn't happen to show up all day?
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. He unlocked the door with a click.
Getting into his car, Brian threw the envelope with the spare cuffs into the backseat.
It had been a long day, and there was still more to come. He thought about this morning at the gym, after his class. What had been on his mind when he was in the shower cleaning up? Or rather, who had been on his mind? A familiar image filled his head
Buckling in, Brian caught a reflection of his own face in the mirror. His lips were curled up at both ends, he was smiling.
He knew who he was thinking about. He knew why he had a grin on his face. But he pushed the thought away. He had a job to do right now.
First drop off the cuffs for Tommy. Second, if possible, find out why Tommy's acting weird. Then, meet the boys and ply them for information that would solve the case.
Only then would he focus on himself. Only then would he let himself relax a bit.
Despite the knowledge that he knew he had to extract from the guys, it surprised him to realize that a part of him was actually looking forward to this evening. He knew that was what was making his stomach churn. When he met up with the guys for dinner, he figured that a lot of this would become very clear.
Tonight he would know.
Craiger
JUB Addict
Some things are coming together finally. (Was there a change I missed with the "updated" part?) I see you posted rather early in the morning so I figure the coffee still hadn't taken effect....
Poor David and TJ. Hard to witness the "crime scene" and hear what transpired. Now Max is missing, but knowing his sexual proclivity he is probably off on an exciting venture.
Thank goodness Brian has given permission to refer to him by his first name. It was getting rather hard to consistently pronounce "Ruggazione", what with my dyslexia........
I'm now intrigued by Tommy and his need for extra handcuffs.
Great update, Spike (even though it was a double whammy).
Craiger
Poor David and TJ. Hard to witness the "crime scene" and hear what transpired. Now Max is missing, but knowing his sexual proclivity he is probably off on an exciting venture.
Thank goodness Brian has given permission to refer to him by his first name. It was getting rather hard to consistently pronounce "Ruggazione", what with my dyslexia........
I'm now intrigued by Tommy and his need for extra handcuffs.
Great update, Spike (even though it was a double whammy).
Craiger
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Oh! Definitely a "darker" turn of events. I'm hoping it turns out that's not Danny's blood! As I recall, last we heard from him, tied up in bed, he didn't seem to be injured ...
And, where the hell is Max??
Brian certainly seems to be becoming more "friendly". I'm wondering what he'll find at Tommy's, though.
In spite of the dire circumstances, sounds like some of TJ's fantasies have a slim chance of becoming reality, both in New Haven, and back in Boston, with Jeremy.
In any case ... and No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
Now ... get Thee back to the keyboard, Spike, Buddy!
And, where the hell is Max??
Brian certainly seems to be becoming more "friendly". I'm wondering what he'll find at Tommy's, though.
In spite of the dire circumstances, sounds like some of TJ's fantasies have a slim chance of becoming reality, both in New Haven, and back in Boston, with Jeremy.
In any case ... and No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
Now ... get Thee back to the keyboard, Spike, Buddy!
RACERX71
Slut
Thanks Spike ! More !
Fantastic story! Hope you still have something planned 
2008spike
Sex God
Jeremy M rode up to his apartment in Boston just after 7pm on Saturday night, a little bit later than he had predicted. It had been a great ride today. The glorious cape weather allowed him to ride fast.
But of course he'd gotten a much later start from P'town than he should have.
That was Paolo's fault.
Jeremy's ass was sorer from the pounding he got from Paolo this morning than it was from sitting on his bike saddle for seven hours. Seven hours wasn't bad, he'd ridden for longer.
On his bike that is. Even Jeremy M would have to agree that he could not get fucked for more than seven hours straight!
He hoisted his bike over one shoulder and carried it up the stairs.
Jeremy M lived in a studio apartment on Dartmouth Street in Back Bay, just a couple blocks from the Charles River. He had rented it when he got to Boston last year, his first year as a Masters student in English at Boston University. It wasn't very much space of course. Not many apartments in this part of town were, but he'd felt lucky to get it. He liked being off campus, not right in the middle of the thousands of undergrads who Jeremy M might have to be teaching at some point in their college careers. And, it was also a few blocks farther away from Fenway Park and all the madness of Boston Red Sox baseball.
Being in the heart of Back Bay also let Jeremy M be just a little closer to his gym, which happened to be just down the block on Dartmouth street. He was there pretty much every day, a fact of life for a triathlete trying to train through the very long and ridiculously cold New England winters.
Jeremy M unlocked his door with the key strung around his neck, then carefully hung his bike on two hooks he had placed on a beam in his ceiling. The beam was old and had been holding up the roof of his apartment for a very long time; it had probably been placed there during the American Revolution so it was certainly still capable of holding up a few extra pounds of carbon frame bike.
The only problem for Jeremy M was that the wheels hung down a long way from the ceiling, over his couch. Not a big deal for Jeremy M when he was by himself in the apartment. Being on the shorter side, he could easily adjust himself and sit under his bike to grade papers or read or watch TV. But, those bike tires were a pain when he had a houseguest, and things started off on the couch before they made it over to his bed, Jeremy's feet were constantly banging up against the rubber. Or worse, the spokes.
Tonight there would be no houseguest. Tonight Jeremy M had an appointment. And his favorite massage therapist had no bicycle hanging from the ceiling over his massage table. Jeremy M's feet would not be banging against the spokes on anybody's bike tires tonight.
Jeremy M peeled off his heavy back pack. The weight of his clothes from the one night he spent in Provincetown, along with his extra water bottles had been a burden today, and his shoulders were stiff from the effort of supporting it all for over a hundred miles. His jersey was plastered to his skin with sweat.
Jeremy M peeled off his clothes and threw them into the floor of his shower. Might as well wash things up in there while he cleaned himself up. He was a busy guy after all, there w as very little time for washing clothes the usual way.
He checked his watch before setting it down on the tiny sink in his bathroom. Good. He still had an hour and a half to clean up, slam dinner, and jog over to his massage guy by 9pm. No problem.
In the bathroom mirror, Jeremy M frowned at the image he saw. His dark red hair was in very bad shape after a day under his bike helmet. His face was streaked with salt and dead bugs. The parts of his face where he had not managed to get enough sun screen were bright red, his tiny freckles screaming for attention. He looked thin, his perfectly chiseled chin and nose sharper than usual. His tight face was usually a good thing--he got loads of comments from people telling him he should model, but Jeremy M didn't think there was too much commercial interest in a red haired triathlete who didn't make it all the way to five and a half feet tall. Still, his green eyes added a helpful splash of color to his face, allowing a lot of people, including himself, to forgive all of the other imperfections.
While he let the shower water heat up, Jeremy M grabbed a Vitamin Water from his refrigerator. He finished it in half a minute. That would help.
The hot shower relaxed him immediately. For pipes that Paul Revere himself had probably installed in the 1700s, Jeremy M had great water pressure. He could stand under the stream in his apartment shower for days.
But, he had a date with his massage therapist tonight so he washed up quickly. Jeremy M spent a few extra seconds on his ass, rubbing the section where his legs connected, a preview of his naked date coming up at nine o'clock. Soaping up his cock, he felt himself throb gently with the anticipation of what was still to come. So what if he'd been fucked by Paolo within an inch of his life just this morning. That was then, tonight was tonight.
He was semi erect in no time.
His sexual appetite was insatiable lately.
Ignoring his fat dick, he shut off the water and reached for his towel. He swung open the shower curtain. Because of the steam from his shower, he could no longer see his reflection in the mirror. But he knew what he looked like. He licked a finger and absently rubbed at one of his hairless nipples. With the same moist finger, he rubbed around the circular rosebud of his asshole. His cock, already thick and already begging for attention, stood out at ninety degrees from his crotch, a well-trimmed wisp of reddish pubic hair encircling the base.
Did he have time to jerk himself off?
Maybe yes if he just grabbed a yogurt and didn't bother with dinner?
Cumming wouldn't take very long anyway. Not with the memory of Paolo's epic Latin penis still fresh in his butt. Not with the excitement about his upcoming massage just minutes away. And not with the fantasy he had been conjuring all day while he pedaled along Route 6: that guy TJ from his English class. Fucking him in his office at BU, his chest on a stack of essays on his desk.
If he was going to jerk off right now--and the message from his dick was very clear on this point--Jeremy M had plenty of sexual situations to work with so he could get the job done. His brain spun in circles coming up with just the right fantasy.
His wet finger penetrated his own butt. That made pre-cum leak from the top of his cockhead, it always did.
Jeremy M rubbed the pre-cum off of the tip of his dick with his palm, and then tugged at his balls. They were warm from the shower, and hung down sloppily against one thigh.
He decided on TJ. That was the fantasy for now. He closed his eyes.
TJ had come in to complain about the grade that Jeremy M had given him on the David Copperfield essay test. At first, they talked about the book, and how poor little David was actually a metaphor for a penis. A growing penis that got larger and larger as David got older and experienced more and more of the challenging world. TJ wasn't buying it, he demanded proof. Jeremy M offered to show TJ exactly what he meant. But that would require TJ being naked, at least from the waist down. Eager to learn, TJ had cast his clothes over the back of Jeremy's desk chair. As Jeremy M explained the story of David Copperfield to TJ, in these terms, TJ's long beautiful cock grew longer. Jeremy M commented that it reminded him of the Tower of London. TJ blushed and tried to hide his growing hardness. But Jeremy M insisted that it was a healthy way of looking at a Dickens novel. TJ was skeptical, so Jeremy M cast his own clothes over the back of his desk chair. TJ responded by flipping his teaching assistant over and slamming Him onto the desk, essay tests scattering in all of the chaos and excitement. Jeremy M urged TJ to extend the metaphor. Let his Tower of London grow to massive proportions. TJ reluctantly agreed, his cock engorged, Jeremy M's willing butthole the river Thames. If TJ could just place his Tower of London inside the mouth of the river Thames, all would become clear. So just fuck me for crissakes, TJ!
Jeremy M shot a load of cum onto the floor of his bathroom. Okay, good, that was quick.
Then the phone rang.
Was it TJ calling from the Tower?
Jeremy M wiped his hands on a towel.
A long thin rope of semen dangled from the tip of his dick,he wiped at that too. He hated to use his shower towels for cum, but with the phone ringing there was no time to find something else. He hustled out of his bathroom, smacking his hard-on against the bathroom doorknob as he did.
"Yow!"
Jeremy M reached his cell phone just before the fourth ring was done.
"Hello?"
"Jeremy? Hi, it's Paolo."
Paolo? Why would he be calling? Jeremy felt his anal sphincter ache as his brain registered Paolo's voice.
"Hi Paolo. What's going on?"
Paolo sounded a little loud and also a little distant at the same time, like he was in a car talking on the speaker.
"I am glad I reached you," Paolo said. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. You know? After your ride."
Hmm. That was weird. Paolo never called him. Jeremy M usually talked to Donnie, Paolo's boyfriend. He was much closer friends with Donnie. He didn't even realize that Paolo knew his cell number.
"Um, I'm all right I guess, if you mean my bike ride. It was pretty sweet, my legs feel fine. I just got home a little while ago and was coming out of the shower when you called."
"Oh great!" Paolo sounded relieved, as if he had his doubts Jeremy M would have been able to safely bike home all the way from P'town. If he was worried about that, Paolo didn't know much about Jeremy's cycling skills.
"Of course, if you mean that other ride, well that's another story," Jeremy M teased.
He had been fucked so well, so completely by Paolo just before he had hopped onto his bike saddle, well, that was a ride that one didn't bounce back from quite so quickly.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Paolo didn't respond to Jeremy M's comment immediately. Uh oh! What if Donnie was in the car too? What an idiot he was! At least for now, that was supposed to be their secret; he didn't know how Donnie would react.
Jeremy M heard Paolo sigh deeply.
"Yeah, that other ride was very nice for me too."
Thank God! Paolo wouldn't say that if Donnie was in the car with him. He relaxed.
"In fact, that's exactly why I'm calling," Paolo said, his voice lower, oozing with his usual Latin charm.
It is? He wants to talk about that?
His cock had started to soften a little when he'd banged it on the bathroom door. Now, with Paolo wanting to talk to him about sex, Jeremy M felt his cock reverse course.
"Okay," Jeremy M said, stretching out the second syllable. "You want to discuss what happened this morning? Is there a problem?"
Paolo hesitated again. Jeremy M listened to him breathing. Somehow, even Paolo's lungs sounded had a way of sounding sexy.
"Um yes...I mean, no. There is no problem. I loved that. You are a very good bottom."
Of course he was a good bottom. Jeremy M already knew that.
"Thank you. You are a very good top."
Paolo laughed.
"Are you sore? I would think that you might be, I mean, most guys I.... Well, it's just that I figured I would ask if..."
This time Jeremy M laughed.
"Yes my ass is sore Paolo! Even a power bottom like me can only take so much! You'd be sore too if you'd been fucked by a dick like yours!"
Paolo chuckled at that.
"I suppose you're right," Paolo said.
Of course I'm right, Jeremy M thought to himself. It wasn't every day that Jeremy M came across a guy with cock that was super thick and super long all at once, and who could stay hard for as long as Jeremy could take it. Nope. It had been an epic fuck all right. He couldn't remember when he had so completely enjoyed it like he had with Paolo this morning.
So Jeremy M would be sore for a while, and he would enjoy that too.
"Anyway Paolo, what's up? You don't usually call me. I am heading out to get a massage in a few minutes."
Another pause.
"Paolo?"
"It's Donnie," Paolo finally said. "We had a fight and I took off."
"What are you talking about?" Jeremy M asked.
"We fought. It was a bad one. And now. I am headed back home. Alone."
Jeremy M hoped that this had nothing to do with him. He knew he shouldn't have let Paolo...Well, actually, if he had it to do all over again...
He would definitely do it again.
And again.
But he didn't want to be the reason for them to split up or anything. They were both his friends and that would totally suck.
"Gee Paolo, I'm really sorry, and I hope you guys are okay."
"Don't worry, we'll be fine. We fight all the time. He just needs some time to himself," Paolo said.
Jeremy M was relieved.
"And I was just going to head back to New Haven so I could get some stuff done without him," Paolo added.
"Um, good then, I guess," Jeremy M said.
Pause.
"Do you want to come with me? I could pick you up."
Jeremy M blinked his eyes. What?
"No! I mean, what are you talking about? Go with you to New Haven?"
"Yes. I am on Route 6 now. I could be in Boston in like 90 minutes or so."
"Um, well I have a massage..."
Jeremy M checked the clock. His massage was in less than an hour. And he still needed to eat something.
"Okay, well, how long will your massage take? An hour?"
Well, it was scheduled for an hour. But if the end of his massage went as Jeremy M was hoping, it could wind up being a lot longer.
"I don't know, I have some papers to grade," Jeremy M said.
This was true.
"There will time for all that," Paolo said. "After we're done."
After we're done?
Oh yeah. After we're done. This was sounding like a good offer. Jeremy M didn't really want to be done with Paolo. He looked down at his cock; it was most of the way back to boner-ville; the human penis was an amazing thing.
"Well..."
"Come on Jeremy. We can try that reverse cowboy thing again? Remember that?"
Did he remember that? Duh, of course he remembered. And reverse cowboy was a personal favorite of Jeremy's.
"Jeremy?"
This sounded pretty good. Maybe he could make it work. He didn't have to teach on Monday anyway. And he could grade papers in the car.
And then there was the matter of that big cock.
Yes.
Yes he would go along with Paolo to New Haven. It sounded fun. And, besides, he couldn't think of any very good excuses not to let Paolo fuck him again.
There was the small matter of Donnie, he supposed. This could be bad for their friendship of course if Donnie were to find out. But Paolo had said that he and Donnie had a fight. And he clearly needed a little help to get through this difficult period. Jeremy M was confident he was just the ticket.
And besides, if anybody would understand the allure of being banged over and over again by Paolo, Donnie certainly would. He knew well what dangled between Paolo's legs.
Okay then.
"Well, I should be done with my massage dude by 10:30 or so. Give or take," Jeremy M said. "I'll just bring my stuff with me and you can pick me up from there."
It was all set. Jeremy M tossed a few things into his back pack, and grabbed his laptop. He was halfway out the door when his stomach reminded him that he still hadn't eaten. He was starved, and he was actually feeling a little spent. Tomorrow morning--or maybe even tonight--he would need his strength.
Oh well, that would have to wait. He could pick something up once Paolo got there.
**
Tommy McKeon considered himself a very good police officer. Maybe even the best to come out of his class at the New Haven PD academy. Everybody thought so, even his best friend Brian Ruggazione told him that he was the best. He was frequently being told by both his colleagues and by his superior officers that he had just the right balance that it took to be a great cop: an amazing work ethic, a high degree of trust, plenty of courage and bravado, a strong sense of the law and even a good understanding of his importance in the community. Tommy wasn't sure of all that at first, but after a few years on the force, he knew that nobody worked harder, nobody commanded the respect from his fellow officers, nobody could shoot like him, and nobody had as clean a history.
Yes indeed, Tommy was born to be a cop. Maybe he'd be chief one day. One day really soon.
But this past week had been a nightmare. A blemish, in his own mind at least, on his otherwise perfect record as a New Haven police officer.
If he was really going to work himself up the ranks of the department that he hoped to lead one day, he was going to have to erase the events of the past week. He had a cleanup job to do. And he intended to clean it up well. There must be no trace of this whole fucking mess in his job file.
It had taken him a few days, but he had come up with an idea to fix his problem. And today was the day that he intended to set his plan into action.
It was mid-morning on Saturday.
Tommy stood in front of the mirror of his bathroom, shaving. He'd closed the door to block out the big distraction outside.
In his late twenties, he was losing the hair on his head faster than he would have liked. But his face was taut, his features accentuated. He liked how he looked. He was often told he looked a lot like Heath Ledger, but that was usually when his head was covered with a baseball cap and the hair didn't show. So he wore a lot of baseball caps; his collection was huge, perhaps his one indulgence that had nothing whatsoever with being a cop. Just an indulgence in himself. Looking good for everyone whenever possible.
Tommy's upper arms-probably his very favorite part of his own body-were perfectly muscled. After he became a cop, he had gotten his arms tattooed, and he liked to show them off by wearing sleeveless t-shirts. Wife beaters. The tattoos were flames. It seemed like the right choice given that his arms were hot, why shouldn't they be covered with fire?
Working out was Tommy's passion. Maybe even more so than his love of his job. And Tommy was just as good at the gym with a set of weights as he was as a young New Haven police officer. Through a steady diet of discipline, careful attention to what he put into his system, and several hours at the gym each day, Tommy had crafted himself into a physical work of art. He had just three percent body fat (and he was working on reducing that), he was strong and fast, he could do more pull-ups than anybody else in the city, and his abs were a perfect eight pack.
Staring at his reflection in the mirror while he shaved, it was sad he had to cover himself up to go to work. Good art should be appreciated by all, right?
But for a few lucky people who he had sex with, it was sad that only the guys in the locker room got to see Tommy completely naked. His body shouldn't be hidden by his police uniform. It should be in display for all to see. And to admire.
Tommy knew that such a body should not be wasted in prison. Those wastoids didn't deserve him. There was no way that this past week, this fucked-up nightmare was going to land Tommy in the State Pen. He would fix it.
And today was the day he made sure. He would not do time. If the events he had in mind to fix this huge problem worked, then he was back to just being Tommy the cop. And back on track to a great career in the department. If.
**
The past couple days had not gone exactly as Max had hoped would have hoped either.
He and TJ had arrived on schedule into New Haven all right, but TJ had been most uncooperative when it came to having sex with Max in the hotel room. Very inconvenient.
Max thought that TJ might be a little more receptive to his amorous advances in the morning after they'd cuddled a bit and TJ had had had a good night's sleep. But no, that didn't work either. Despite all the support Max dished out, TJ was unresponsive to Max. Max had to be creative.
Douse himself with Axe? Possible, very possible. Max would pick some up later today.
After wake-up sex hadn't worked, Max tried wowing TJ with his advanced yoga techniques. Unfortunately,TJ was asleep and missed all the good stuff. Even after he'd woken up, Max was too worn out to put on a really good yoga show. So that was a bust as well.
At some point, Max had gone downstairs for coffee , thinking that he might try the only sure way to a man's heart, through his stomach. With a pitstop at TJ's penis. Only that had failed too. Max had even tried spiking TJ's coffee with an antihistamine that he'd brought along for his own sinus problems. But that failed when TJ thought the coffee tasted like Parmesan cheese and refused to drink it. Those NyQuil packets just didn't seem to fully dissolve in coffee. He'd have to remember that, for next time.
Max knew that his obsession with TJ was not the best thing for their friendship. But Max also knew that some very primitive spot in his brain would not rest until the dirty deed was done.
Ever since the two of them had met, the most basic elements of Max's brain considered TJ to be his destiny. Or at least his sexual destiny, whatever the heck that was.
The less primitive parts of Max's brain were tied up with other destinies, like quarks and quantum mechanics or captaining the astrophysics debate team at MIT.
His whole life Max had been told that he was the smartest guy anyone had ever met.
And as a result, Max had built his entire personality around being exactly the opposite of that. To avoid being the oddball smart guy way out at the end of the Bell curve, Max worked very hard at being a complete goofball. He reasoned that this would help him to fit right in with everyone else.
Whatever new quirk or strange trend was threading its way though American culture, Max embraced it. Out of everybody that Max knew, Max himself was the first guy to record his own unique version of "Call me maybe." Max put on Chinese drag and did his YouTube video of the Carly Rae Jepsen song completely in Mandarin, with both English and Bangladeshi subtitles to provide additional multi-linguistic appeal. Unfortunately, Max's unique Chinese version of the hit song didn't bring Max what he was looking for. It didn't get him laid. He did get quite a few strangely supportive e-mails from people in China, but as far as Max could tell, it was mostly teenage girls. Not exactly what Max had in mind.
Max was also the only guy in his high school to record himself doing the Jelly Belly challenge, only Max brought it to heights that other gross-out videographers had not. He collected every booger, barf, and skunk spray jelly bean that he could find at his local Wal-Mart and filmed himself filling his mouth to capacity. Max's taste buds were ruined as a result. And still, the video didn't get Max what he was seeking. That video had gone largely unseen. So, in deference to his poor abused taste buds, and in protest of the Jelly Belly challenge in general, Max had sworn off eating jelly beans of any type for the rest of his life. His decision was final.
Max had an insatiable appetite for clever repartee. He sprinkled his conversations with every funny joke or comeback he came across from books and from the internet. And while he could speak perfect English with impeccable grammar and punctuation, he pretended that he couldn't. Only his parents knew that Max had impeccable diction. Nobody else did. Max loved it when TJ corrected something that he said; it proved to him that TJ was paying attention to the words that came out of his mouth.
And Max also had an insatiable appetite for sex.
Being so intelligent and being so strange was not a great combination that appealed much to the guys Max lusted after. He had certainly had his fair share of sex since he had realized that he liked other boys, but it was definitely not as much as Max wanted. Or needed.
Much to his own amazement, Max had a boyfriend while he was in high school, and they actually had sex all the time. Max was in heaven! He even cut down temporarily on his quirkiness as a result. But then the guy had decided he was not gay after all and left Max the night before they were to make their big public debut at the senior prom.
When Max had arrived at MIT to start his Freshmen year, he thought that Boston might be the perfect solution to his problems. After all, Boston was widely known as a city teeming with super-smart college students. If Max was going to fit in, Boston was very likely to be the place. Plus the liberal legacy of New England, the multi-cultural student base, and the affinity for fitness and good health made MIT, and Cambridge in particular, just the ticket. Max would indeed find himself right in the middle of the pack and would fulfill all his destinies in college in Boston.
So meeting TJ while running along the Charles River was just part of the original fulfillment of Max's grand plan. Max's sexual destiny. Max had thought the issue through totally, and TJ was the complete package for Max. It would be at least 2300 years before another boy would come along that had the same combination of characteristics that TJ had.
TJ was a college boy. Check.
TJ was certainly very easy on the eyes. Max's eyes, at least. Check.
TJ was gay, and not likely to go back to women like poor Max's high school boyfriend had. Check.
TJ apparently had a large penis, somewhere in the neighborhood of eight inches. While not a critical feature of Max's grand plan, this was also a check.
TJ was broke. Max was not. Check. If both of them were rich, that wouldn't be right.
Instead of long walks on the beach, TJ liked to take long runs by the river. He was on his college track team. He seemed to understood Max's oddball personality, and even seemed to enjoy spending time with Max! Check, check, check.
And perhaps best of all, TJ was honest and trusting. A guy who you'd want to fuck over and over and over again. That was great husband material! So, when he added it all up. TJ was pretty much a checkmate!
So TJ fit just right into Max's plan for his future.
But there was one problem. TJ was not cooperating.
They had known one another since the beginning of the school year and TJ had not agreed to sleep with Max even one time.
TJ was nice to hang out with. It was nice to go for a long run with him. It was nice to have long, purposeful conversations about the great topics of the day with TJ. But Max wanted more.
And, as the smartest guy in the room, raised with all the money he needed, Max was used to getting what he wanted.
And he wanted TJ.
All day Saturday, while TJ and his friend David Leeman from Oregon were busy looking for Danny Leeman with help of the New Haven police department, Max walked the streets of New Haven and cruised the bathroom stalls at Yale. He had a lot on his mind and he needed a lot of time to think. A toilet was a good a place as any.
How had everything gotten so fucked up?
Max had conceived his elaborate plan to bed TJ weeks ago, right after TJ told Max that he'd been invited to run in the invitational track meet at Yale.
Only things had gone terribly wrong.
First TJ didn't qualify for finals on Sunday. So Max had to make an adjustment even after his scheme had already begun. That was inconvenient, but totally manageable. Plan B then.
Then Max had gotten that phone call from TJ after he had returned to Boston from New Haven. That was a huge surprise for Max and more than a little inconvenient.
Danny Leeman kidnapped?
What the fuck?
And now TJ wants to talk about it with his buddy Max?
Max had to really hustle his ass to get to the Indian restaurant that TJ liked and wanted to meet him at in Central Square.
What a mess!
So Plan B had been unsuccessful as well. Unfortunately he had no more backup ideas. There was only....
But, Max was resourceful. Even as he was walking up to the restaurant to meet TJ for lunch, Max was putting the finer points of a new revised idea together.
Plan C.
Max thought to himself about poor Danny Leeman! The guy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And, unfortunately, it looked like things were going to have to stay exactly as they were for Danny just a little bit longer. Max was not ready to give up on his grandest scheme of all.
So today was Saturday. Action Day for Plan C. All of this creative non-mathematical thinking had given Max a headache. He needed someone to rub his scalp.
Max left the bathroom stall where he'd been loitering and went outside. Max pecked away at his phone.
He was somewhere on campus at Yale right now, it was hard to say where exactly. It was really quite beautiful as major universities go. But Max had no time to enjoy the Gothic architecture. He was deep in thought, like in a chess match, planning ten to twelve moves ahead.
He had already dialed the same number eight times today and it had gone straight to voice mail each time.
"Come on, come on! Answer already, you moron!" Max shouted in frustration.
It rang four times. Max was beside himself by now. He was nearly ready to just give up entirely on his plan. The guy could deal with the fall-out all by himself. He pulled the phone away from his ear, planning to chuck his phone into the wall of an old ivy covered wall of a building.
"Hello."
But Max was already mumbling again and he didn't hear the man finally pick up Max's call.
"Idiot!" Max shouted.
Then he flung his phone down onto the grass near his feet.
"Hello?"
"This is so stupid I can't believe it!" Max yelled.
Several students looked in Max's direction, but apparently his behavior wasn't so unusual that anyone really paid him any attention.
"Max? Is that you? Where are you?"
Max kept walking along the path, oblivious to the tiny voice inside his phone. He put his hands through his hair and pulled his hair straight up.
"All this work! All this effort! For nothing!"
"Max, are you okay?"
"Aaaaaahhh!" Max shouted into his palms. He fell to his knees.
A sudden quiet fell over the dozen or so students walking or sitting on the grass. People did a lot of goofy things at Yale, but a scream like the one Max had just made, even a muted one, deserved at least a pause in their routines.
Max quickly realized how quiet his surroundings had become. He removed his hands from his face and saw that he was the reason that people were quiet. Everyone was looking at him to see what he might do next. He turned red with embarrassment.
The conversations resumed. People walking resumed their pace.
"Sorry," Max said sheepishly.
He gave a couple of guys playing Frisbee a casual wave.
"I'm okay," he said.
Some one smiled at him. She probably thought he had just flunked an exam, or gotten dumped by a jealous lover.
"No worries," Max added lamely to the girl who smiled. "I'm okay. Just go about your business, really I'll be just fine."
In a few more seconds, he was alone again. Nobody was looking at him any longer.
"Yes fucking indeed," he said under his breath. "I'll be just fucking great! Just great!"
"Uh, excuse me, sir?"
The voice came from behind him. It was a young boy, a child. He was standing there with Max's phone in his hand, his arm outstretched toward Max.
"I think you might have dropped your phone."
Max sighed and looked painfully at the innocent young boy who was doing a good deed by returning this strangely dressed man's phone.
"Uh, yes I did. Thank you very much," Max said to the boy. He managed a smile, hoping it seemed genuine.
The boy handed Max his phone. Max wiped away a tear from his face with one hand and accepted the phone from the boy with the other.
Then the boy turned to walk away. Max bowed deeply, but the boy was already headed off and didn't see Max's attempt at a grand gesture of gratitude. The boy stopped.
"Oh sir?"
"Yes?" Max smiled.
"There was somebody speaking when I picked it up. I just thought you'd want to know. But they hung up."
Max's eyes brightened. He stepped toward the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Who was it? Who was speaking?" Max said loudly, practically a shout.
The boy flinched and pulled his shoulder away. Some adult, probably the boy's parent took several steps toward them as soon as Max lay his hand on the boy.
"I don't know. I'm sorry sir."
"Who was it you numbskull?" Max shouted. "Can't you tell if it was a male or female? Didn't you listen?"
The boy's parent was upon them now. The boy's father pulled his son away, Max's grip on the lad less forceful than the father's.
"Don't touch my son, you creep!"
The father moved his son behind him and stepped back.
Max stared at the two of them. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came to him.
"He was just returning your phone!" the father said. "How dare you lay a hand on him?"
"I, I, I'm..."
The father had turned and gone now in the opposite direction. Max was speechless as he watched them go.
"Touch him again and I'll call the New Haven Police Department," the father yelled back at Max as he hustled his son along.
Max had to smile faintly at that remark.
He stared after them as they walked away, shocked at his own behavior, but faintly amused by the irony of the father's final parting words. Max looked down at his phone, willing it to ring, willing it to be the person he had been calling and calling all day.
No calls came.
When the father and son had reached a safe distance away from Max, he saw the young boy raise the middle finger of his right hand and awkwardly flip Max off.
"Yeah, fuck me," Max whispered to himself. "Don't I wish?"
**
Half asleep, the buzzing from outside Danny's door jolted him awake.
That was a new sound that he hadn't heard before. He strained his ears to understand what it might mean.
There was a little bit of muted rustling outside, Danny had come to realize that he knew when his captor was in the house; lots of muted rustling. He just couldn't tell what the guy was doing exactly.
Inside his prison, Danny's endless porno video continued to cycle. The volume was off. Danny had begged the man to do that. It took a lot of pleading from Danny, but finally the man had complied. Mercifully, Danny didn't have to listen to Colt screwing every guy in the film. Now he only had to watch. Somehow that made Colt more tolerable.
The buzzing sounded again. Was it a doorbell? An intercom?
Still Danny heard nothing else from outside that made any sense. If it was a doorbell, why didn't his captor answer it?
Well, actually Danny knew why.
Maybe it was the police! Somebody had found him!
But would the police buzz first? Wouldn't they just blow the door down with a shoulder or something?
The buzz again. Followed by absolute silence.
If it was the doorbell, the man was not answering it.
So maybe it wasn't the police. Maybe just a pizza delivery. Danny's mouth began to water. He was hungry. His captor gave him food, but Danny could certainly use more. He was losing weight.
Colt pulled his dick out of the ass he was fucking on screen and came in long streaky jets onto the back of the boy. Danny had watched this scene dozens of times by now and knew the exact shape of Colts semen puddles. Danny also knew that they had filmed this particular orgasm scene more than once. As the camera panned over, a visual designed to prove how virile and filled with cum the hero Colt was, the semen puddles changed.
"Aha!" Danny had shouted at the screen when he had made this particular discovery.
Danny wondered if the puddles even belonged to Colt at all.
Maybe it was cum from somebody else on the set because Colt had been too tired to get off again. Poor baby. Or maybe it wasn't cum at all. But what else looked like cum? Milk? Glue? Yogurt? It would have to be plain.
Ew!
Danny hoped it wasn't yogurt. He'd been eating a lot of that since he'd been tied up in this room. And he just wanted it to be what is supposed to be. Colt's spooge.
Outside Danny's bedroom, Tommy watched his friend drive away. He hated to involve him in this whole mess, but he knew that Brian would keep his mouth shut. Originally, he had told Brian to leave the handcuffs on his car, but when he decided to move his car to as to improve his alibi, he'd had to call Brian directly and say that he should leave the cuffs in his mailbox and not the car.
Which Brian did.
When Brian's car was out of sight, Tommy went down stairs to retrieve the cuffs. Brian had left them in his mailbox. They were in a plastic bag from Stop 'N Shop. That little piece of irony made Tommy smile.
Back inside his apartment, Tommy began to get dressed in his police uniform. For what he needed to do this evening, he needed to look like a real police officer.
Before Tommy got dressed, he figured he would check on Danny.
One final time before this whole thing was all over.
He looked around for his mask but couldn't locate it. All he had on was his white tank and his Calvin boxer briefs.
He didn't mind walking in to his bedroom in his underwear, it was probably exactly what Danny was hoping for anyway, but if his plan was going to work, he needed something over his head so that Danny couldn't identify him later. By his face at least. He had been very careful so far, and with the end of this whole thing so close, no use taking chances now.
Shit! Where was his mask?
He checked his watch. He had wanted to be over at the Stop 'N Shop in about 40 minutes. If he was going to be on time to catch the change of shift, he would have to hustle up.
He was nervous. He had never done anything like this before. A very straight laced life so far, he should never have gotten himself into this situation. He inhaled deeply a few times! Maybe that would chill him out. Okay think, where did you last see the mask?
Tommy looked around his kitchen. That was dumb, why would he have left it there? The living room? Nope? The closet by the door? No luck.
His car maybe?
Crap!
He remembered tossing the mask into his back pack and sticking it into his trunk. And now his car was over by the yacht club all the way across town. The yacht club was his alibi. He had gone for a long swim, which was the message he was planning on leaving on Brian's voice mail. That was why he wasn't home when Brian dropped the cuffs off. That was believable. He went for swims in his wetsuit all the time from right next to the yacht club.
And now he had no mask. He would have to check on Danny without it. Dammit!
So a bathroom towel was out. Those were in the bathroom, he couldn't get to any of his towels without Danny seeing him. His kitchen towels were too small. He could toss his police uniform over his face, but that was too risky. Danny was smart, he'd figure out that Tommy was a cop.
Tommy shook his head. What a mess! He could jump on his bike, in his police uniform, and head downtown and just buy something. But that would waste valuable time. And he needed to be at the store for change of shift.
One final thought occurred to him.
He could put his Calvin Kleins on his head. That would work, but that would mean he had nothing on below the waist.
Danny would see his dick.
At least one of them would be happy with that.
Tommy slid his briefs down his legs and stood in his living room in just his t-shirt. His dick was uncircumcised, and hung limply between his legs. Tommy knew his dick always got scrunched up when he wore tight underwear, elongating the instant it was free. It was a thing that had been commented on many times by guys at the gym, straight and gay. As soon as he took off his gym clothes and before he headed into the shower, he was small. But after his shower, even if Tommy barely touched himself at all while he washed up, he emerged from the shower much different. Tommy's before and after pictures: first Clark Kent, then Superman. Tommy had no idea why this happened, but it didn't feel like anything he should complain about.
He looked at his own underwear and shook his head. Which side should go over his face? The front or the back?
He decided on the front.
Okay, here goes nothing. Tommy put his underwear over his head, then slid himself into one leg. He wanted to check himself in the mirror to see if his face was detectable, but he couldn't see anything.
He probably looked ridiculous but this would have to do.
Carefully, so as not to make things a whole lot worse than they were going to be soon, Tommy used his fingers to feel for his own penis.
Small Tommy.
That was good, for the time being.
Big Tommy had not come out to play. Yet.
He walked over and opened the door to his bedroom, well actually to Danny's bedroom.
"What the?"
Danny's eyes were glued on the man entering his room.
Tommy was taking small steps, he couldn't see anything at all through the black cotton and Lycra covering his face.
"Is it my birthday? Are you my present amigo?"
"Shut up Danny," Tommy said.
"Nice fucking arms man!" Danny said with a whistle. Tommy realized that Danny was probably commenting on his flame tattoos. Or not. He did have great arms, that much was true.
"I have to go out," Tommy said, his mouth full of underwear. "I just wanted to see if there's anything you needed right now."
Danny wiggled his wrists in the handcuffs.
"I need my arms back amigo? How about that, eh?"
Tommy shook his head. The free leg of his boxer briefs flopped around by his left ear. "Nope. Can't do that. Anything else?"
Danny looked at Tommy's penis. Exactly what Tommy thought would happen after he'd had his underwear off for a while was already happening. Danny's keen eye sensed that something was up.
"Well, since your Johnson seems very happy to see me, I'll just take that. Bring it on over here amigo."
"No."
"No? What are you holding out for? You know you want it. I can see your dick getting bigger since you walked into my man cave here."
"No Danny."
"Come on dude. One quick blow job! I am a master, trust me!"
"Shut up Danny. You're not sucking my dick."
"Then you can suck mine. I'm a little horned out here. Been watching my buddy Colt make man-meat out of all these thinks for days now. My balls are absolutely packed with cum! It won't take you long at all."
Danny thrust his hips forward several times. To his amazement, his captor's cock got a little bit longer. Danny smiled, enjoying his private show.
"No Danny."
"Please!" Danny pleaded.
Danny was confused. The man's dick was saying one thing while the voice under the underwear was saying something else.
"No."
Danny pouted.
"When?"
"Not now."
Danny whistled.
"Well, that's good I guess, not now is good. That doesn't mean never," Danny said.
"Can I empty your bottle?" Tommy asked.
Danny looked down at the milk bottle he was supposed to pee in. It was empty.
"Nope. Looks like I'm good."
Despite himself, Danny smiled.
"How about an apple or something?" Tommy asked. "Maybe a banana? They are pretty good."
Danny laughed.
"Are you serious? You come in here with your underwear over your face and offer me a banana?"
Tommy shrugged.
"This is a bad, fucking joke, right?" Danny went on. "Your uncut dick is growing bigger before my eyes. I offer to suck you dry, and you offer me a banana?"
"Do you want one or not?"
"No, dude!" Danny yelled. "What I want is for you to explain to me what the fuck is going on! Take these goddamned cuffs off me! And let me go!"
"I can't. But soon. "
"Why the fuck not?"
"Danny, just chill okay," Tommy said. "And keep your voice down or I'll have to put something over your mouth again. Just like before."
"I am fucking chill, amigo! Look at me! I couldn't be any more fucking chill!"
Danny rattled the chains holding his arms and his legs to the bed.
"I'm fucking sick of this. I want out!"
Danny struggled against his bonds with every ounce of strength he had left. His face was beet red. The cuffs cut into his wrists and ankles. He was breathless from the exertion. Tommy stood still and did nothing. He couldn't really see too well anyhow.
"Danny, calm down please. Those cuffs will cut into your skin," Tommy said.
"I don't care! I want out! I want to go home. I want to see my family!"
Tears streamed down Danny's face.
"Not now, Danny. Soon."
"FUCK!" Danny screamed, at the top of his lungs.
Tommy took a few steps toward the bed, being careful not to let his cock make contact with any part of Danny's body. That would make things even more complicated than they already were.
"When are you going to let me go?" Danny sobbed.
"Soon, I said. Do you want the banana or don't you?"
Danny tried his best to relax. He inhaled and exhaled a few times. Tommy left the room for a minute and returned with a ripe banana. Tommy's cock swung like a pendulum clock as he approached Danny's bed. Tommy unpeeled the top of the banana.
Calmer now, Danny's eyes were fixated on Tommy's cock. The sucking of uncut cocks was one of Danny's specialties, and Tommy had a fine specimen.
Tommy held out the banana for Danny. He took a bite.
"You know, you should really let me take care of that for you," Danny said with his mouth full.
"You're probably right, Danny. I'll bet you give great head. But not right now, I need to be someplace."
"Aww, come on! I haven't seen a naked guy in person in over a week now. Just Colt, Colt, Colt! 24-7. This is not healthy for me."
Tommy lowered the peel and put more banana into Danny's mouth. "Eat some more," Tommy said, happy that Danny was calming down.
"You're right. That is a good one," Danny said, again with his mouth full.
"Yup."
"When will you be back?" Danny asked. "I don't know how long this is gonna hold me."
Tommy unpeeled the rest of the banana and fed it to Danny. By accident, his penis brushed Danny's foot as he began to talk away. Danny noticed and glared longingly at Tommy's dick.
"Later, but not too late," Tommy said.
"Good. My offer still stands," Danny said, licking Tommy from head to toe inside his mind.
"Thanks," Tommy responded. "Very considerate of you."
Tommy backed away from the bed and turned to exit the bedroom.
"So tell me the truth amigo. Why exactly did you come in here without any pants on? Wagging your weenie in my face?"
Tommy didn't know the answer. He said nothing, but he smiled to himself underneath his underwear mask.
"So, maybe when I come back, I will bring you a hot dog or something, okay?" Tommy taunted him.
"A hot dog? Seriously? You fuck!"
Tommy laughed and closed the door behind him.
Danny swallowed his bite of banana and stared at Colt fucking the day lights out of somebody on his video. Danny's dick was rock hard.
**
As Tommy exited his own bedroom, leaving Danny behind, Tommy hoped this would all be over soon. It hadn't been his idea in the first place and he just wanted to put things right and move on with his life.
It was the 'put things right' part that Tommy needed to attend to this evening.
He took his underwear off of his head and slipped them back on where they were supposed to be. He was aware that his cock was longer than usual, even for him. He was also aware of the electricity that had coursed through him when his cock accidentally brushed Danny's foot.
He would think about that tomorrow.
Tommy finished putting on the rest of his police uniform. When he was done, he fished the handcuffs out of the bad that Brian had brought over and attached them to his belt. Then he readjusted his pants, ensuring that the tenting of his pants wasn't too obvious.
He looked like a respectable cop, he thought to himself.
Pulling off another ripe banana from the bunch for himself, he peeled back the skin for the second time in five minutes. This one went into his own mouth however.
Then he quietly left the condo.
Initially, Tommy was surprised to see that his car was not in its usual spot out front. Then he remembered why. He made his way to Stop 'N Shop, just a member of New Haven's finest out on evening patrol.
When he arrived, shift change was already underway. He was not too late.
Tommy entered the store, nodded to the cashiers and store clerks who were helping customers up front, and walked directly to the back row of the store. The flimsy plastic door just to the left of the meat department was the entrance to the store manager's office, just up the stairs. He saw two people talking inside.
Tommy rapped his knuckles on the metal door to alert them of his presence.
"Evening folks," Tommy said in his friendly police man voice. "Officer McKeon from New Haven Police. I called earlier and said I'd be stopping by. I need to pick up a copy of that video from the night of the assault on Danny Leeman."
**
Jeremy M made it to his massage with less than a minute to spare.
He didn't know this section of town near Northeastern University very well. He'd been a few times already, usually on his bike. But since he was going to get picked up by Paolo, tonight he was on foot and didn't recognize the landmarks from the sidewalks. All things considered, he made only two wrong turns. Not bad for downtown Boston, where even the cabbies got pretty lost
The massage guy's tiny apartment was a classic Back Bay brownstone within sight of the Berklee College of Music.
Jeremy M buzzed from the front and was allowed entry without any words being spoken.
At the top of the stairs, the front door was open a crack. Jeremy M knocked lightly and let himself in.
"Hallo?" Jeremy M called out, unsure if he should proceed beyond the doorway.
"Be right with you," a voice sang out from someplace not too far away.
Jeremy M put down his backpack, freshly stuffed with what few clean clothes he had around. He ran his fingers through his dark red hair and untucked his shirt from the back and side of his pants, leaving the front just behind his belt buckle. He notched a thumb behind his buckle and took a deep breath.
These were always weird moments for Jeremy M.
'Hi, I'm here for the massage I called you about, but I'm mostly looking forward to you fucking me at the end.'
And I'm a good tipper.
Keith the massage guy came around the corner just then he had on a black jock strap.
"Welcome back Jeremy! It is so great to see you again!" he said in a low voice that surprised Jeremy M.
He gave Jeremy a casual hug on the shoulders, which made Jeremy M blush.
Despite the soft light they were standing in, Keith noticed and smiled broadly. He kissed Jeremy lightly on the cheek, allowing his lips to brush across the corner of Jeremy's mouth. Then he took Jeremy M gently by the shoulder and led him back toward a candle lit room. There was a massage table in the center of the room, draped with a white sheet. There was a white wash cloth folded into a tiny triangle in the middle of the sheet, tented up so that it could Be seen against the sheet. The room smelled mildly like cucumber.
Jeremy M's dick gave a jolt as the memory of his most recent visit washed over him. After a couple minutes of pointless back rubbing, the two of them had so wanted to get down to business that there had been no massage at all on that particular day. Keith was more heavily endowed than Jeremy M's average partner, and he had been successful at finding a spot, deep within Jeremy M's ass that caused him to come immediately. Both times that day.
Keith's hand was on Jeremy M's belt buckle now, his fingers resting strategically about a half inch below the waistband.
"Can I get you anything before we start? Water? Tea? Would you like to use the restroom?"
Jeremy M's stomach grumbled.
He was still a little dry from his ride and he still hadn't eaten.
"Nope, I'm all set," Jeremy M blushed again. He wondered what his parents would think of how he was spending his college money. But think of what he was saving on his food bill!
Keith tugged lightly at Jeremy's belt buckle and his body moved closer to Keith's.
"Okay then, what would you like me to work on this evening?"
Keith's hands drew Jeremy's head toward his own. On reflex, Jeremy M closed his eyes and opened his lips. Keith's tongue found Jeremy's, forcing his way inside with a tiny thrust.
Jeremy M moaned involuntarily. In that brief moment, Keith removed his belt and let it drop at their feet.
"Or if you prefer, I can use my hands and the rest of my body to explore every part of your side tidy which areas are I. End of the most attention."
Keith's mouth encircled Jeremy's now, his palm on Jeremy M's back, forcing them closer.
Jeremy M kissed back now, allowing Keith to withdraw, the dance of the tongues, their lips, their breathing perfectly synchronized. Jeremy M moaned again as Keith's fingers massaged the lightly haired region just above the base of Jeremy M's cock. He kicked off his shoes and flipped the, aside. Since he was now shorter than Keith, Jeremy M stood on his tiptoes. Keith's thumb and index finger circled the base of his cock. Jeremy M grew larger and Keith had to open his fingers to keep them in the same place.
"Nice," Keith whispered. "Shall we get you out of these clothes?"
Jeremy M reached his own hands under the black waistband of Keith's jock. He nodded a yes. Keith reached for a switch to dim the lights without losing grip of Jeremy's dick. Ten seconds later, Jeremy M was naked, his clothes in a heap at his feet. Keith arched backward to look Jeremy M over. A fine layer of sweat lay in the center of his chest, glistening in the candle light of the room. Keith rubbed a finger across Jeremy's chest from one hairless nipple to the other. Keith placed the finger inside Jeremy's lips and smiled. Jeremy licked his lips, tasting his own sweat. They both looked down at Jeremy's hard on at the same moment. Keith released his grip on the base and stoked the fat cock all the way to its tip. Jeremy M shuddered at this, but Keith calmed him y moving his body closer and placing a finger between his butt cheeks, Keith's talented fingertips found Jeremy's butthole and pressed around the circle. A droplet of pre-cum oozed from the tip and Keith made good use of this too, rubbing it around the glans of Jeremy's penis.
Jeremy M smiled and tried to remove Keith's jock strap, but Keith held it firmly with one hand. Apparently there would be time for that soon enough. With careful movements of his tongue inside of Jeremy's mouth, Keith glided Jeremy M over to the massage table. Keith removed the tiny little wash cloth that had been placed for his more modest clients. He lay Jeremy M onto his front side, his face in the soft cradle at the top of the table. Jeremy M adjusted his own wiener, pointed it toward the left side, which seemed to fit better.
Keith's hands rubbed oil into Jeremy's back from the tips of his shoulders to the crack of his ass. A few knots in Jeremy's shoulder blades, Keith removed expertly.
When he got to Jeremy's butt, Keith remembered how this had previously driven hi wild so he lightened up his touch. He wanted Jeremy M to enjoy himself fully tonight. Soon enough, Keith would have his own cock inside of Jeremy M.
Maybe he could get the boy to cum three times tonight, that ought to be worth a hefty tip.
Once he was satisfied with the work he all he had achieved in loosening up his butt muscles, Keith set his left ankle across the back of his knee. One of Keith's favorite positions, this allowed him unrestricted access to the dick and balls of his clients. And he didn't do this for them all.
Jeremy M moaned softly as Keith's hands stroked his inner thighs, allowing the tips of his fingers to brush Jeremy's dick lightly without taking hold of it outright. Jeremy M leaked more pre-cum from the head of his dick and Keith could feel it on the back of his wrist. While one hand kept up this continuous motion on Jeremy's thigh, the other hand found his ass again. Keith place his thumb against the pucker of Jeremy's ass and pressed, allowing his fingers to tickle his nut sack. Jeremy's moans increased in volume. Ever so slowly, he increased the pressure of his thumb. Gradually it disappeared inside, all the way to the knuckle. Jeremy M moved his hips rhythmically with the stokes of Keith's hand on his inner thigh. His heart raced.
When Jeremy M could take no more, Keith paused. With a twist, Keith removed his thumb from Jeremy's asshole and rubbed the moist fluid onto the underside of Jeremy's balls.
He had Jeremy M put his left leg back onto the massage table, and softly placed his right leg into the same reverse stretch. behind his knee. Jeremy M lifted his hips up in anticipation of what was to come. Teasingly, Keith let him wait before plunging his thumb inside of Jeremy M again.
By the time Keith had finished the backside of Jeremy's legs, he had cum on the table without anyone touching his cock. Keith had Jeremy M flip over, noting happily that his erection had not gone away; Jeremy's dick thrust upward toward his belly button, as thick and stiff as Keith had ever seen it. Keith let Jeremy M feel his own hardness, behind the fabric of his jock. Not all his clients turned him on like this, but he got a boner every time with Jeremy M.
After a few minutes of gently rubbing out Jeremy's arms, legs, and the front of his chest, Keith got up onto the table and stretched Jeremy's glutes one at a time, pushing the cup of his jock against Jeremy's ass. As he removed his jock and placed it on Jeremy's shoulder, Keith noticed a river of pre-cum on Jeremy's lower abs.
The pre-cum told Keith all he needed to know. Jeremy M was ready to go again.
Keith positioned himself symmetrically between Jeremy's thighs, his own erect cock dangling just over Jeremy's butthole. He grabbed Jeremy's small feet with one hand each and rubbed them firmly as he penetrated Jeremy's hole effortlessly.
Jeremy M moaned loudly now, his ass filled with cock. This time Keith used a dab of massage oil on the head of Jeremy's dick, rubbing it to the same beat he fucked him with.
They came together, their screams muted by their lips locked together.
While he dressed, Jeremy M knew what he smelled like. He would be riding the two to three hours with Paolo in a small car, he wondered how his scent would drive Paolo crazy.
He had cum four times today. A pretty good Saturday, all things considered. But tomorrow was a new day. A new day to ride Paolo's epic penis. With Donnie still in P'town and Paolo alone, could Jeremy M set a new personal record on Sunday?
He hoped so.
If not, there was always Monday back at school in Boston. And maybe TJ.
But of course he'd gotten a much later start from P'town than he should have.
That was Paolo's fault.
Jeremy's ass was sorer from the pounding he got from Paolo this morning than it was from sitting on his bike saddle for seven hours. Seven hours wasn't bad, he'd ridden for longer.
On his bike that is. Even Jeremy M would have to agree that he could not get fucked for more than seven hours straight!
He hoisted his bike over one shoulder and carried it up the stairs.
Jeremy M lived in a studio apartment on Dartmouth Street in Back Bay, just a couple blocks from the Charles River. He had rented it when he got to Boston last year, his first year as a Masters student in English at Boston University. It wasn't very much space of course. Not many apartments in this part of town were, but he'd felt lucky to get it. He liked being off campus, not right in the middle of the thousands of undergrads who Jeremy M might have to be teaching at some point in their college careers. And, it was also a few blocks farther away from Fenway Park and all the madness of Boston Red Sox baseball.
Being in the heart of Back Bay also let Jeremy M be just a little closer to his gym, which happened to be just down the block on Dartmouth street. He was there pretty much every day, a fact of life for a triathlete trying to train through the very long and ridiculously cold New England winters.
Jeremy M unlocked his door with the key strung around his neck, then carefully hung his bike on two hooks he had placed on a beam in his ceiling. The beam was old and had been holding up the roof of his apartment for a very long time; it had probably been placed there during the American Revolution so it was certainly still capable of holding up a few extra pounds of carbon frame bike.
The only problem for Jeremy M was that the wheels hung down a long way from the ceiling, over his couch. Not a big deal for Jeremy M when he was by himself in the apartment. Being on the shorter side, he could easily adjust himself and sit under his bike to grade papers or read or watch TV. But, those bike tires were a pain when he had a houseguest, and things started off on the couch before they made it over to his bed, Jeremy's feet were constantly banging up against the rubber. Or worse, the spokes.
Tonight there would be no houseguest. Tonight Jeremy M had an appointment. And his favorite massage therapist had no bicycle hanging from the ceiling over his massage table. Jeremy M's feet would not be banging against the spokes on anybody's bike tires tonight.
Jeremy M peeled off his heavy back pack. The weight of his clothes from the one night he spent in Provincetown, along with his extra water bottles had been a burden today, and his shoulders were stiff from the effort of supporting it all for over a hundred miles. His jersey was plastered to his skin with sweat.
Jeremy M peeled off his clothes and threw them into the floor of his shower. Might as well wash things up in there while he cleaned himself up. He was a busy guy after all, there w as very little time for washing clothes the usual way.
He checked his watch before setting it down on the tiny sink in his bathroom. Good. He still had an hour and a half to clean up, slam dinner, and jog over to his massage guy by 9pm. No problem.
In the bathroom mirror, Jeremy M frowned at the image he saw. His dark red hair was in very bad shape after a day under his bike helmet. His face was streaked with salt and dead bugs. The parts of his face where he had not managed to get enough sun screen were bright red, his tiny freckles screaming for attention. He looked thin, his perfectly chiseled chin and nose sharper than usual. His tight face was usually a good thing--he got loads of comments from people telling him he should model, but Jeremy M didn't think there was too much commercial interest in a red haired triathlete who didn't make it all the way to five and a half feet tall. Still, his green eyes added a helpful splash of color to his face, allowing a lot of people, including himself, to forgive all of the other imperfections.
While he let the shower water heat up, Jeremy M grabbed a Vitamin Water from his refrigerator. He finished it in half a minute. That would help.
The hot shower relaxed him immediately. For pipes that Paul Revere himself had probably installed in the 1700s, Jeremy M had great water pressure. He could stand under the stream in his apartment shower for days.
But, he had a date with his massage therapist tonight so he washed up quickly. Jeremy M spent a few extra seconds on his ass, rubbing the section where his legs connected, a preview of his naked date coming up at nine o'clock. Soaping up his cock, he felt himself throb gently with the anticipation of what was still to come. So what if he'd been fucked by Paolo within an inch of his life just this morning. That was then, tonight was tonight.
He was semi erect in no time.
His sexual appetite was insatiable lately.
Ignoring his fat dick, he shut off the water and reached for his towel. He swung open the shower curtain. Because of the steam from his shower, he could no longer see his reflection in the mirror. But he knew what he looked like. He licked a finger and absently rubbed at one of his hairless nipples. With the same moist finger, he rubbed around the circular rosebud of his asshole. His cock, already thick and already begging for attention, stood out at ninety degrees from his crotch, a well-trimmed wisp of reddish pubic hair encircling the base.
Did he have time to jerk himself off?
Maybe yes if he just grabbed a yogurt and didn't bother with dinner?
Cumming wouldn't take very long anyway. Not with the memory of Paolo's epic Latin penis still fresh in his butt. Not with the excitement about his upcoming massage just minutes away. And not with the fantasy he had been conjuring all day while he pedaled along Route 6: that guy TJ from his English class. Fucking him in his office at BU, his chest on a stack of essays on his desk.
If he was going to jerk off right now--and the message from his dick was very clear on this point--Jeremy M had plenty of sexual situations to work with so he could get the job done. His brain spun in circles coming up with just the right fantasy.
His wet finger penetrated his own butt. That made pre-cum leak from the top of his cockhead, it always did.
Jeremy M rubbed the pre-cum off of the tip of his dick with his palm, and then tugged at his balls. They were warm from the shower, and hung down sloppily against one thigh.
He decided on TJ. That was the fantasy for now. He closed his eyes.
TJ had come in to complain about the grade that Jeremy M had given him on the David Copperfield essay test. At first, they talked about the book, and how poor little David was actually a metaphor for a penis. A growing penis that got larger and larger as David got older and experienced more and more of the challenging world. TJ wasn't buying it, he demanded proof. Jeremy M offered to show TJ exactly what he meant. But that would require TJ being naked, at least from the waist down. Eager to learn, TJ had cast his clothes over the back of Jeremy's desk chair. As Jeremy M explained the story of David Copperfield to TJ, in these terms, TJ's long beautiful cock grew longer. Jeremy M commented that it reminded him of the Tower of London. TJ blushed and tried to hide his growing hardness. But Jeremy M insisted that it was a healthy way of looking at a Dickens novel. TJ was skeptical, so Jeremy M cast his own clothes over the back of his desk chair. TJ responded by flipping his teaching assistant over and slamming Him onto the desk, essay tests scattering in all of the chaos and excitement. Jeremy M urged TJ to extend the metaphor. Let his Tower of London grow to massive proportions. TJ reluctantly agreed, his cock engorged, Jeremy M's willing butthole the river Thames. If TJ could just place his Tower of London inside the mouth of the river Thames, all would become clear. So just fuck me for crissakes, TJ!
Jeremy M shot a load of cum onto the floor of his bathroom. Okay, good, that was quick.
Then the phone rang.
Was it TJ calling from the Tower?
Jeremy M wiped his hands on a towel.
A long thin rope of semen dangled from the tip of his dick,he wiped at that too. He hated to use his shower towels for cum, but with the phone ringing there was no time to find something else. He hustled out of his bathroom, smacking his hard-on against the bathroom doorknob as he did.
"Yow!"
Jeremy M reached his cell phone just before the fourth ring was done.
"Hello?"
"Jeremy? Hi, it's Paolo."
Paolo? Why would he be calling? Jeremy felt his anal sphincter ache as his brain registered Paolo's voice.
"Hi Paolo. What's going on?"
Paolo sounded a little loud and also a little distant at the same time, like he was in a car talking on the speaker.
"I am glad I reached you," Paolo said. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. You know? After your ride."
Hmm. That was weird. Paolo never called him. Jeremy M usually talked to Donnie, Paolo's boyfriend. He was much closer friends with Donnie. He didn't even realize that Paolo knew his cell number.
"Um, I'm all right I guess, if you mean my bike ride. It was pretty sweet, my legs feel fine. I just got home a little while ago and was coming out of the shower when you called."
"Oh great!" Paolo sounded relieved, as if he had his doubts Jeremy M would have been able to safely bike home all the way from P'town. If he was worried about that, Paolo didn't know much about Jeremy's cycling skills.
"Of course, if you mean that other ride, well that's another story," Jeremy M teased.
He had been fucked so well, so completely by Paolo just before he had hopped onto his bike saddle, well, that was a ride that one didn't bounce back from quite so quickly.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Paolo didn't respond to Jeremy M's comment immediately. Uh oh! What if Donnie was in the car too? What an idiot he was! At least for now, that was supposed to be their secret; he didn't know how Donnie would react.
Jeremy M heard Paolo sigh deeply.
"Yeah, that other ride was very nice for me too."
Thank God! Paolo wouldn't say that if Donnie was in the car with him. He relaxed.
"In fact, that's exactly why I'm calling," Paolo said, his voice lower, oozing with his usual Latin charm.
It is? He wants to talk about that?
His cock had started to soften a little when he'd banged it on the bathroom door. Now, with Paolo wanting to talk to him about sex, Jeremy M felt his cock reverse course.
"Okay," Jeremy M said, stretching out the second syllable. "You want to discuss what happened this morning? Is there a problem?"
Paolo hesitated again. Jeremy M listened to him breathing. Somehow, even Paolo's lungs sounded had a way of sounding sexy.
"Um yes...I mean, no. There is no problem. I loved that. You are a very good bottom."
Of course he was a good bottom. Jeremy M already knew that.
"Thank you. You are a very good top."
Paolo laughed.
"Are you sore? I would think that you might be, I mean, most guys I.... Well, it's just that I figured I would ask if..."
This time Jeremy M laughed.
"Yes my ass is sore Paolo! Even a power bottom like me can only take so much! You'd be sore too if you'd been fucked by a dick like yours!"
Paolo chuckled at that.
"I suppose you're right," Paolo said.
Of course I'm right, Jeremy M thought to himself. It wasn't every day that Jeremy M came across a guy with cock that was super thick and super long all at once, and who could stay hard for as long as Jeremy could take it. Nope. It had been an epic fuck all right. He couldn't remember when he had so completely enjoyed it like he had with Paolo this morning.
So Jeremy M would be sore for a while, and he would enjoy that too.
"Anyway Paolo, what's up? You don't usually call me. I am heading out to get a massage in a few minutes."
Another pause.
"Paolo?"
"It's Donnie," Paolo finally said. "We had a fight and I took off."
"What are you talking about?" Jeremy M asked.
"We fought. It was a bad one. And now. I am headed back home. Alone."
Jeremy M hoped that this had nothing to do with him. He knew he shouldn't have let Paolo...Well, actually, if he had it to do all over again...
He would definitely do it again.
And again.
But he didn't want to be the reason for them to split up or anything. They were both his friends and that would totally suck.
"Gee Paolo, I'm really sorry, and I hope you guys are okay."
"Don't worry, we'll be fine. We fight all the time. He just needs some time to himself," Paolo said.
Jeremy M was relieved.
"And I was just going to head back to New Haven so I could get some stuff done without him," Paolo added.
"Um, good then, I guess," Jeremy M said.
Pause.
"Do you want to come with me? I could pick you up."
Jeremy M blinked his eyes. What?
"No! I mean, what are you talking about? Go with you to New Haven?"
"Yes. I am on Route 6 now. I could be in Boston in like 90 minutes or so."
"Um, well I have a massage..."
Jeremy M checked the clock. His massage was in less than an hour. And he still needed to eat something.
"Okay, well, how long will your massage take? An hour?"
Well, it was scheduled for an hour. But if the end of his massage went as Jeremy M was hoping, it could wind up being a lot longer.
"I don't know, I have some papers to grade," Jeremy M said.
This was true.
"There will time for all that," Paolo said. "After we're done."
After we're done?
Oh yeah. After we're done. This was sounding like a good offer. Jeremy M didn't really want to be done with Paolo. He looked down at his cock; it was most of the way back to boner-ville; the human penis was an amazing thing.
"Well..."
"Come on Jeremy. We can try that reverse cowboy thing again? Remember that?"
Did he remember that? Duh, of course he remembered. And reverse cowboy was a personal favorite of Jeremy's.
"Jeremy?"
This sounded pretty good. Maybe he could make it work. He didn't have to teach on Monday anyway. And he could grade papers in the car.
And then there was the matter of that big cock.
Yes.
Yes he would go along with Paolo to New Haven. It sounded fun. And, besides, he couldn't think of any very good excuses not to let Paolo fuck him again.
There was the small matter of Donnie, he supposed. This could be bad for their friendship of course if Donnie were to find out. But Paolo had said that he and Donnie had a fight. And he clearly needed a little help to get through this difficult period. Jeremy M was confident he was just the ticket.
And besides, if anybody would understand the allure of being banged over and over again by Paolo, Donnie certainly would. He knew well what dangled between Paolo's legs.
Okay then.
"Well, I should be done with my massage dude by 10:30 or so. Give or take," Jeremy M said. "I'll just bring my stuff with me and you can pick me up from there."
It was all set. Jeremy M tossed a few things into his back pack, and grabbed his laptop. He was halfway out the door when his stomach reminded him that he still hadn't eaten. He was starved, and he was actually feeling a little spent. Tomorrow morning--or maybe even tonight--he would need his strength.
Oh well, that would have to wait. He could pick something up once Paolo got there.
**
Tommy McKeon considered himself a very good police officer. Maybe even the best to come out of his class at the New Haven PD academy. Everybody thought so, even his best friend Brian Ruggazione told him that he was the best. He was frequently being told by both his colleagues and by his superior officers that he had just the right balance that it took to be a great cop: an amazing work ethic, a high degree of trust, plenty of courage and bravado, a strong sense of the law and even a good understanding of his importance in the community. Tommy wasn't sure of all that at first, but after a few years on the force, he knew that nobody worked harder, nobody commanded the respect from his fellow officers, nobody could shoot like him, and nobody had as clean a history.
Yes indeed, Tommy was born to be a cop. Maybe he'd be chief one day. One day really soon.
But this past week had been a nightmare. A blemish, in his own mind at least, on his otherwise perfect record as a New Haven police officer.
If he was really going to work himself up the ranks of the department that he hoped to lead one day, he was going to have to erase the events of the past week. He had a cleanup job to do. And he intended to clean it up well. There must be no trace of this whole fucking mess in his job file.
It had taken him a few days, but he had come up with an idea to fix his problem. And today was the day that he intended to set his plan into action.
It was mid-morning on Saturday.
Tommy stood in front of the mirror of his bathroom, shaving. He'd closed the door to block out the big distraction outside.
In his late twenties, he was losing the hair on his head faster than he would have liked. But his face was taut, his features accentuated. He liked how he looked. He was often told he looked a lot like Heath Ledger, but that was usually when his head was covered with a baseball cap and the hair didn't show. So he wore a lot of baseball caps; his collection was huge, perhaps his one indulgence that had nothing whatsoever with being a cop. Just an indulgence in himself. Looking good for everyone whenever possible.
Tommy's upper arms-probably his very favorite part of his own body-were perfectly muscled. After he became a cop, he had gotten his arms tattooed, and he liked to show them off by wearing sleeveless t-shirts. Wife beaters. The tattoos were flames. It seemed like the right choice given that his arms were hot, why shouldn't they be covered with fire?
Working out was Tommy's passion. Maybe even more so than his love of his job. And Tommy was just as good at the gym with a set of weights as he was as a young New Haven police officer. Through a steady diet of discipline, careful attention to what he put into his system, and several hours at the gym each day, Tommy had crafted himself into a physical work of art. He had just three percent body fat (and he was working on reducing that), he was strong and fast, he could do more pull-ups than anybody else in the city, and his abs were a perfect eight pack.
Staring at his reflection in the mirror while he shaved, it was sad he had to cover himself up to go to work. Good art should be appreciated by all, right?
But for a few lucky people who he had sex with, it was sad that only the guys in the locker room got to see Tommy completely naked. His body shouldn't be hidden by his police uniform. It should be in display for all to see. And to admire.
Tommy knew that such a body should not be wasted in prison. Those wastoids didn't deserve him. There was no way that this past week, this fucked-up nightmare was going to land Tommy in the State Pen. He would fix it.
And today was the day he made sure. He would not do time. If the events he had in mind to fix this huge problem worked, then he was back to just being Tommy the cop. And back on track to a great career in the department. If.
**
The past couple days had not gone exactly as Max had hoped would have hoped either.
He and TJ had arrived on schedule into New Haven all right, but TJ had been most uncooperative when it came to having sex with Max in the hotel room. Very inconvenient.
Max thought that TJ might be a little more receptive to his amorous advances in the morning after they'd cuddled a bit and TJ had had had a good night's sleep. But no, that didn't work either. Despite all the support Max dished out, TJ was unresponsive to Max. Max had to be creative.
Douse himself with Axe? Possible, very possible. Max would pick some up later today.
After wake-up sex hadn't worked, Max tried wowing TJ with his advanced yoga techniques. Unfortunately,TJ was asleep and missed all the good stuff. Even after he'd woken up, Max was too worn out to put on a really good yoga show. So that was a bust as well.
At some point, Max had gone downstairs for coffee , thinking that he might try the only sure way to a man's heart, through his stomach. With a pitstop at TJ's penis. Only that had failed too. Max had even tried spiking TJ's coffee with an antihistamine that he'd brought along for his own sinus problems. But that failed when TJ thought the coffee tasted like Parmesan cheese and refused to drink it. Those NyQuil packets just didn't seem to fully dissolve in coffee. He'd have to remember that, for next time.
Max knew that his obsession with TJ was not the best thing for their friendship. But Max also knew that some very primitive spot in his brain would not rest until the dirty deed was done.
Ever since the two of them had met, the most basic elements of Max's brain considered TJ to be his destiny. Or at least his sexual destiny, whatever the heck that was.
The less primitive parts of Max's brain were tied up with other destinies, like quarks and quantum mechanics or captaining the astrophysics debate team at MIT.
His whole life Max had been told that he was the smartest guy anyone had ever met.
And as a result, Max had built his entire personality around being exactly the opposite of that. To avoid being the oddball smart guy way out at the end of the Bell curve, Max worked very hard at being a complete goofball. He reasoned that this would help him to fit right in with everyone else.
Whatever new quirk or strange trend was threading its way though American culture, Max embraced it. Out of everybody that Max knew, Max himself was the first guy to record his own unique version of "Call me maybe." Max put on Chinese drag and did his YouTube video of the Carly Rae Jepsen song completely in Mandarin, with both English and Bangladeshi subtitles to provide additional multi-linguistic appeal. Unfortunately, Max's unique Chinese version of the hit song didn't bring Max what he was looking for. It didn't get him laid. He did get quite a few strangely supportive e-mails from people in China, but as far as Max could tell, it was mostly teenage girls. Not exactly what Max had in mind.
Max was also the only guy in his high school to record himself doing the Jelly Belly challenge, only Max brought it to heights that other gross-out videographers had not. He collected every booger, barf, and skunk spray jelly bean that he could find at his local Wal-Mart and filmed himself filling his mouth to capacity. Max's taste buds were ruined as a result. And still, the video didn't get Max what he was seeking. That video had gone largely unseen. So, in deference to his poor abused taste buds, and in protest of the Jelly Belly challenge in general, Max had sworn off eating jelly beans of any type for the rest of his life. His decision was final.
Max had an insatiable appetite for clever repartee. He sprinkled his conversations with every funny joke or comeback he came across from books and from the internet. And while he could speak perfect English with impeccable grammar and punctuation, he pretended that he couldn't. Only his parents knew that Max had impeccable diction. Nobody else did. Max loved it when TJ corrected something that he said; it proved to him that TJ was paying attention to the words that came out of his mouth.
And Max also had an insatiable appetite for sex.
Being so intelligent and being so strange was not a great combination that appealed much to the guys Max lusted after. He had certainly had his fair share of sex since he had realized that he liked other boys, but it was definitely not as much as Max wanted. Or needed.
Much to his own amazement, Max had a boyfriend while he was in high school, and they actually had sex all the time. Max was in heaven! He even cut down temporarily on his quirkiness as a result. But then the guy had decided he was not gay after all and left Max the night before they were to make their big public debut at the senior prom.
When Max had arrived at MIT to start his Freshmen year, he thought that Boston might be the perfect solution to his problems. After all, Boston was widely known as a city teeming with super-smart college students. If Max was going to fit in, Boston was very likely to be the place. Plus the liberal legacy of New England, the multi-cultural student base, and the affinity for fitness and good health made MIT, and Cambridge in particular, just the ticket. Max would indeed find himself right in the middle of the pack and would fulfill all his destinies in college in Boston.
So meeting TJ while running along the Charles River was just part of the original fulfillment of Max's grand plan. Max's sexual destiny. Max had thought the issue through totally, and TJ was the complete package for Max. It would be at least 2300 years before another boy would come along that had the same combination of characteristics that TJ had.
TJ was a college boy. Check.
TJ was certainly very easy on the eyes. Max's eyes, at least. Check.
TJ was gay, and not likely to go back to women like poor Max's high school boyfriend had. Check.
TJ apparently had a large penis, somewhere in the neighborhood of eight inches. While not a critical feature of Max's grand plan, this was also a check.
TJ was broke. Max was not. Check. If both of them were rich, that wouldn't be right.
Instead of long walks on the beach, TJ liked to take long runs by the river. He was on his college track team. He seemed to understood Max's oddball personality, and even seemed to enjoy spending time with Max! Check, check, check.
And perhaps best of all, TJ was honest and trusting. A guy who you'd want to fuck over and over and over again. That was great husband material! So, when he added it all up. TJ was pretty much a checkmate!
So TJ fit just right into Max's plan for his future.
But there was one problem. TJ was not cooperating.
They had known one another since the beginning of the school year and TJ had not agreed to sleep with Max even one time.
TJ was nice to hang out with. It was nice to go for a long run with him. It was nice to have long, purposeful conversations about the great topics of the day with TJ. But Max wanted more.
And, as the smartest guy in the room, raised with all the money he needed, Max was used to getting what he wanted.
And he wanted TJ.
All day Saturday, while TJ and his friend David Leeman from Oregon were busy looking for Danny Leeman with help of the New Haven police department, Max walked the streets of New Haven and cruised the bathroom stalls at Yale. He had a lot on his mind and he needed a lot of time to think. A toilet was a good a place as any.
How had everything gotten so fucked up?
Max had conceived his elaborate plan to bed TJ weeks ago, right after TJ told Max that he'd been invited to run in the invitational track meet at Yale.
Only things had gone terribly wrong.
First TJ didn't qualify for finals on Sunday. So Max had to make an adjustment even after his scheme had already begun. That was inconvenient, but totally manageable. Plan B then.
Then Max had gotten that phone call from TJ after he had returned to Boston from New Haven. That was a huge surprise for Max and more than a little inconvenient.
Danny Leeman kidnapped?
What the fuck?
And now TJ wants to talk about it with his buddy Max?
Max had to really hustle his ass to get to the Indian restaurant that TJ liked and wanted to meet him at in Central Square.
What a mess!
So Plan B had been unsuccessful as well. Unfortunately he had no more backup ideas. There was only....
But, Max was resourceful. Even as he was walking up to the restaurant to meet TJ for lunch, Max was putting the finer points of a new revised idea together.
Plan C.
Max thought to himself about poor Danny Leeman! The guy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And, unfortunately, it looked like things were going to have to stay exactly as they were for Danny just a little bit longer. Max was not ready to give up on his grandest scheme of all.
So today was Saturday. Action Day for Plan C. All of this creative non-mathematical thinking had given Max a headache. He needed someone to rub his scalp.
Max left the bathroom stall where he'd been loitering and went outside. Max pecked away at his phone.
He was somewhere on campus at Yale right now, it was hard to say where exactly. It was really quite beautiful as major universities go. But Max had no time to enjoy the Gothic architecture. He was deep in thought, like in a chess match, planning ten to twelve moves ahead.
He had already dialed the same number eight times today and it had gone straight to voice mail each time.
"Come on, come on! Answer already, you moron!" Max shouted in frustration.
It rang four times. Max was beside himself by now. He was nearly ready to just give up entirely on his plan. The guy could deal with the fall-out all by himself. He pulled the phone away from his ear, planning to chuck his phone into the wall of an old ivy covered wall of a building.
"Hello."
But Max was already mumbling again and he didn't hear the man finally pick up Max's call.
"Idiot!" Max shouted.
Then he flung his phone down onto the grass near his feet.
"Hello?"
"This is so stupid I can't believe it!" Max yelled.
Several students looked in Max's direction, but apparently his behavior wasn't so unusual that anyone really paid him any attention.
"Max? Is that you? Where are you?"
Max kept walking along the path, oblivious to the tiny voice inside his phone. He put his hands through his hair and pulled his hair straight up.
"All this work! All this effort! For nothing!"
"Max, are you okay?"
"Aaaaaahhh!" Max shouted into his palms. He fell to his knees.
A sudden quiet fell over the dozen or so students walking or sitting on the grass. People did a lot of goofy things at Yale, but a scream like the one Max had just made, even a muted one, deserved at least a pause in their routines.
Max quickly realized how quiet his surroundings had become. He removed his hands from his face and saw that he was the reason that people were quiet. Everyone was looking at him to see what he might do next. He turned red with embarrassment.
The conversations resumed. People walking resumed their pace.
"Sorry," Max said sheepishly.
He gave a couple of guys playing Frisbee a casual wave.
"I'm okay," he said.
Some one smiled at him. She probably thought he had just flunked an exam, or gotten dumped by a jealous lover.
"No worries," Max added lamely to the girl who smiled. "I'm okay. Just go about your business, really I'll be just fine."
In a few more seconds, he was alone again. Nobody was looking at him any longer.
"Yes fucking indeed," he said under his breath. "I'll be just fucking great! Just great!"
"Uh, excuse me, sir?"
The voice came from behind him. It was a young boy, a child. He was standing there with Max's phone in his hand, his arm outstretched toward Max.
"I think you might have dropped your phone."
Max sighed and looked painfully at the innocent young boy who was doing a good deed by returning this strangely dressed man's phone.
"Uh, yes I did. Thank you very much," Max said to the boy. He managed a smile, hoping it seemed genuine.
The boy handed Max his phone. Max wiped away a tear from his face with one hand and accepted the phone from the boy with the other.
Then the boy turned to walk away. Max bowed deeply, but the boy was already headed off and didn't see Max's attempt at a grand gesture of gratitude. The boy stopped.
"Oh sir?"
"Yes?" Max smiled.
"There was somebody speaking when I picked it up. I just thought you'd want to know. But they hung up."
Max's eyes brightened. He stepped toward the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Who was it? Who was speaking?" Max said loudly, practically a shout.
The boy flinched and pulled his shoulder away. Some adult, probably the boy's parent took several steps toward them as soon as Max lay his hand on the boy.
"I don't know. I'm sorry sir."
"Who was it you numbskull?" Max shouted. "Can't you tell if it was a male or female? Didn't you listen?"
The boy's parent was upon them now. The boy's father pulled his son away, Max's grip on the lad less forceful than the father's.
"Don't touch my son, you creep!"
The father moved his son behind him and stepped back.
Max stared at the two of them. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came to him.
"He was just returning your phone!" the father said. "How dare you lay a hand on him?"
"I, I, I'm..."
The father had turned and gone now in the opposite direction. Max was speechless as he watched them go.
"Touch him again and I'll call the New Haven Police Department," the father yelled back at Max as he hustled his son along.
Max had to smile faintly at that remark.
He stared after them as they walked away, shocked at his own behavior, but faintly amused by the irony of the father's final parting words. Max looked down at his phone, willing it to ring, willing it to be the person he had been calling and calling all day.
No calls came.
When the father and son had reached a safe distance away from Max, he saw the young boy raise the middle finger of his right hand and awkwardly flip Max off.
"Yeah, fuck me," Max whispered to himself. "Don't I wish?"
**
Half asleep, the buzzing from outside Danny's door jolted him awake.
That was a new sound that he hadn't heard before. He strained his ears to understand what it might mean.
There was a little bit of muted rustling outside, Danny had come to realize that he knew when his captor was in the house; lots of muted rustling. He just couldn't tell what the guy was doing exactly.
Inside his prison, Danny's endless porno video continued to cycle. The volume was off. Danny had begged the man to do that. It took a lot of pleading from Danny, but finally the man had complied. Mercifully, Danny didn't have to listen to Colt screwing every guy in the film. Now he only had to watch. Somehow that made Colt more tolerable.
The buzzing sounded again. Was it a doorbell? An intercom?
Still Danny heard nothing else from outside that made any sense. If it was a doorbell, why didn't his captor answer it?
Well, actually Danny knew why.
Maybe it was the police! Somebody had found him!
But would the police buzz first? Wouldn't they just blow the door down with a shoulder or something?
The buzz again. Followed by absolute silence.
If it was the doorbell, the man was not answering it.
So maybe it wasn't the police. Maybe just a pizza delivery. Danny's mouth began to water. He was hungry. His captor gave him food, but Danny could certainly use more. He was losing weight.
Colt pulled his dick out of the ass he was fucking on screen and came in long streaky jets onto the back of the boy. Danny had watched this scene dozens of times by now and knew the exact shape of Colts semen puddles. Danny also knew that they had filmed this particular orgasm scene more than once. As the camera panned over, a visual designed to prove how virile and filled with cum the hero Colt was, the semen puddles changed.
"Aha!" Danny had shouted at the screen when he had made this particular discovery.
Danny wondered if the puddles even belonged to Colt at all.
Maybe it was cum from somebody else on the set because Colt had been too tired to get off again. Poor baby. Or maybe it wasn't cum at all. But what else looked like cum? Milk? Glue? Yogurt? It would have to be plain.
Ew!
Danny hoped it wasn't yogurt. He'd been eating a lot of that since he'd been tied up in this room. And he just wanted it to be what is supposed to be. Colt's spooge.
Outside Danny's bedroom, Tommy watched his friend drive away. He hated to involve him in this whole mess, but he knew that Brian would keep his mouth shut. Originally, he had told Brian to leave the handcuffs on his car, but when he decided to move his car to as to improve his alibi, he'd had to call Brian directly and say that he should leave the cuffs in his mailbox and not the car.
Which Brian did.
When Brian's car was out of sight, Tommy went down stairs to retrieve the cuffs. Brian had left them in his mailbox. They were in a plastic bag from Stop 'N Shop. That little piece of irony made Tommy smile.
Back inside his apartment, Tommy began to get dressed in his police uniform. For what he needed to do this evening, he needed to look like a real police officer.
Before Tommy got dressed, he figured he would check on Danny.
One final time before this whole thing was all over.
He looked around for his mask but couldn't locate it. All he had on was his white tank and his Calvin boxer briefs.
He didn't mind walking in to his bedroom in his underwear, it was probably exactly what Danny was hoping for anyway, but if his plan was going to work, he needed something over his head so that Danny couldn't identify him later. By his face at least. He had been very careful so far, and with the end of this whole thing so close, no use taking chances now.
Shit! Where was his mask?
He checked his watch. He had wanted to be over at the Stop 'N Shop in about 40 minutes. If he was going to be on time to catch the change of shift, he would have to hustle up.
He was nervous. He had never done anything like this before. A very straight laced life so far, he should never have gotten himself into this situation. He inhaled deeply a few times! Maybe that would chill him out. Okay think, where did you last see the mask?
Tommy looked around his kitchen. That was dumb, why would he have left it there? The living room? Nope? The closet by the door? No luck.
His car maybe?
Crap!
He remembered tossing the mask into his back pack and sticking it into his trunk. And now his car was over by the yacht club all the way across town. The yacht club was his alibi. He had gone for a long swim, which was the message he was planning on leaving on Brian's voice mail. That was why he wasn't home when Brian dropped the cuffs off. That was believable. He went for swims in his wetsuit all the time from right next to the yacht club.
And now he had no mask. He would have to check on Danny without it. Dammit!
So a bathroom towel was out. Those were in the bathroom, he couldn't get to any of his towels without Danny seeing him. His kitchen towels were too small. He could toss his police uniform over his face, but that was too risky. Danny was smart, he'd figure out that Tommy was a cop.
Tommy shook his head. What a mess! He could jump on his bike, in his police uniform, and head downtown and just buy something. But that would waste valuable time. And he needed to be at the store for change of shift.
One final thought occurred to him.
He could put his Calvin Kleins on his head. That would work, but that would mean he had nothing on below the waist.
Danny would see his dick.
At least one of them would be happy with that.
Tommy slid his briefs down his legs and stood in his living room in just his t-shirt. His dick was uncircumcised, and hung limply between his legs. Tommy knew his dick always got scrunched up when he wore tight underwear, elongating the instant it was free. It was a thing that had been commented on many times by guys at the gym, straight and gay. As soon as he took off his gym clothes and before he headed into the shower, he was small. But after his shower, even if Tommy barely touched himself at all while he washed up, he emerged from the shower much different. Tommy's before and after pictures: first Clark Kent, then Superman. Tommy had no idea why this happened, but it didn't feel like anything he should complain about.
He looked at his own underwear and shook his head. Which side should go over his face? The front or the back?
He decided on the front.
Okay, here goes nothing. Tommy put his underwear over his head, then slid himself into one leg. He wanted to check himself in the mirror to see if his face was detectable, but he couldn't see anything.
He probably looked ridiculous but this would have to do.
Carefully, so as not to make things a whole lot worse than they were going to be soon, Tommy used his fingers to feel for his own penis.
Small Tommy.
That was good, for the time being.
Big Tommy had not come out to play. Yet.
He walked over and opened the door to his bedroom, well actually to Danny's bedroom.
"What the?"
Danny's eyes were glued on the man entering his room.
Tommy was taking small steps, he couldn't see anything at all through the black cotton and Lycra covering his face.
"Is it my birthday? Are you my present amigo?"
"Shut up Danny," Tommy said.
"Nice fucking arms man!" Danny said with a whistle. Tommy realized that Danny was probably commenting on his flame tattoos. Or not. He did have great arms, that much was true.
"I have to go out," Tommy said, his mouth full of underwear. "I just wanted to see if there's anything you needed right now."
Danny wiggled his wrists in the handcuffs.
"I need my arms back amigo? How about that, eh?"
Tommy shook his head. The free leg of his boxer briefs flopped around by his left ear. "Nope. Can't do that. Anything else?"
Danny looked at Tommy's penis. Exactly what Tommy thought would happen after he'd had his underwear off for a while was already happening. Danny's keen eye sensed that something was up.
"Well, since your Johnson seems very happy to see me, I'll just take that. Bring it on over here amigo."
"No."
"No? What are you holding out for? You know you want it. I can see your dick getting bigger since you walked into my man cave here."
"No Danny."
"Come on dude. One quick blow job! I am a master, trust me!"
"Shut up Danny. You're not sucking my dick."
"Then you can suck mine. I'm a little horned out here. Been watching my buddy Colt make man-meat out of all these thinks for days now. My balls are absolutely packed with cum! It won't take you long at all."
Danny thrust his hips forward several times. To his amazement, his captor's cock got a little bit longer. Danny smiled, enjoying his private show.
"No Danny."
"Please!" Danny pleaded.
Danny was confused. The man's dick was saying one thing while the voice under the underwear was saying something else.
"No."
Danny pouted.
"When?"
"Not now."
Danny whistled.
"Well, that's good I guess, not now is good. That doesn't mean never," Danny said.
"Can I empty your bottle?" Tommy asked.
Danny looked down at the milk bottle he was supposed to pee in. It was empty.
"Nope. Looks like I'm good."
Despite himself, Danny smiled.
"How about an apple or something?" Tommy asked. "Maybe a banana? They are pretty good."
Danny laughed.
"Are you serious? You come in here with your underwear over your face and offer me a banana?"
Tommy shrugged.
"This is a bad, fucking joke, right?" Danny went on. "Your uncut dick is growing bigger before my eyes. I offer to suck you dry, and you offer me a banana?"
"Do you want one or not?"
"No, dude!" Danny yelled. "What I want is for you to explain to me what the fuck is going on! Take these goddamned cuffs off me! And let me go!"
"I can't. But soon. "
"Why the fuck not?"
"Danny, just chill okay," Tommy said. "And keep your voice down or I'll have to put something over your mouth again. Just like before."
"I am fucking chill, amigo! Look at me! I couldn't be any more fucking chill!"
Danny rattled the chains holding his arms and his legs to the bed.
"I'm fucking sick of this. I want out!"
Danny struggled against his bonds with every ounce of strength he had left. His face was beet red. The cuffs cut into his wrists and ankles. He was breathless from the exertion. Tommy stood still and did nothing. He couldn't really see too well anyhow.
"Danny, calm down please. Those cuffs will cut into your skin," Tommy said.
"I don't care! I want out! I want to go home. I want to see my family!"
Tears streamed down Danny's face.
"Not now, Danny. Soon."
"FUCK!" Danny screamed, at the top of his lungs.
Tommy took a few steps toward the bed, being careful not to let his cock make contact with any part of Danny's body. That would make things even more complicated than they already were.
"When are you going to let me go?" Danny sobbed.
"Soon, I said. Do you want the banana or don't you?"
Danny tried his best to relax. He inhaled and exhaled a few times. Tommy left the room for a minute and returned with a ripe banana. Tommy's cock swung like a pendulum clock as he approached Danny's bed. Tommy unpeeled the top of the banana.
Calmer now, Danny's eyes were fixated on Tommy's cock. The sucking of uncut cocks was one of Danny's specialties, and Tommy had a fine specimen.
Tommy held out the banana for Danny. He took a bite.
"You know, you should really let me take care of that for you," Danny said with his mouth full.
"You're probably right, Danny. I'll bet you give great head. But not right now, I need to be someplace."
"Aww, come on! I haven't seen a naked guy in person in over a week now. Just Colt, Colt, Colt! 24-7. This is not healthy for me."
Tommy lowered the peel and put more banana into Danny's mouth. "Eat some more," Tommy said, happy that Danny was calming down.
"You're right. That is a good one," Danny said, again with his mouth full.
"Yup."
"When will you be back?" Danny asked. "I don't know how long this is gonna hold me."
Tommy unpeeled the rest of the banana and fed it to Danny. By accident, his penis brushed Danny's foot as he began to talk away. Danny noticed and glared longingly at Tommy's dick.
"Later, but not too late," Tommy said.
"Good. My offer still stands," Danny said, licking Tommy from head to toe inside his mind.
"Thanks," Tommy responded. "Very considerate of you."
Tommy backed away from the bed and turned to exit the bedroom.
"So tell me the truth amigo. Why exactly did you come in here without any pants on? Wagging your weenie in my face?"
Tommy didn't know the answer. He said nothing, but he smiled to himself underneath his underwear mask.
"So, maybe when I come back, I will bring you a hot dog or something, okay?" Tommy taunted him.
"A hot dog? Seriously? You fuck!"
Tommy laughed and closed the door behind him.
Danny swallowed his bite of banana and stared at Colt fucking the day lights out of somebody on his video. Danny's dick was rock hard.
**
As Tommy exited his own bedroom, leaving Danny behind, Tommy hoped this would all be over soon. It hadn't been his idea in the first place and he just wanted to put things right and move on with his life.
It was the 'put things right' part that Tommy needed to attend to this evening.
He took his underwear off of his head and slipped them back on where they were supposed to be. He was aware that his cock was longer than usual, even for him. He was also aware of the electricity that had coursed through him when his cock accidentally brushed Danny's foot.
He would think about that tomorrow.
Tommy finished putting on the rest of his police uniform. When he was done, he fished the handcuffs out of the bad that Brian had brought over and attached them to his belt. Then he readjusted his pants, ensuring that the tenting of his pants wasn't too obvious.
He looked like a respectable cop, he thought to himself.
Pulling off another ripe banana from the bunch for himself, he peeled back the skin for the second time in five minutes. This one went into his own mouth however.
Then he quietly left the condo.
Initially, Tommy was surprised to see that his car was not in its usual spot out front. Then he remembered why. He made his way to Stop 'N Shop, just a member of New Haven's finest out on evening patrol.
When he arrived, shift change was already underway. He was not too late.
Tommy entered the store, nodded to the cashiers and store clerks who were helping customers up front, and walked directly to the back row of the store. The flimsy plastic door just to the left of the meat department was the entrance to the store manager's office, just up the stairs. He saw two people talking inside.
Tommy rapped his knuckles on the metal door to alert them of his presence.
"Evening folks," Tommy said in his friendly police man voice. "Officer McKeon from New Haven Police. I called earlier and said I'd be stopping by. I need to pick up a copy of that video from the night of the assault on Danny Leeman."
**
Jeremy M made it to his massage with less than a minute to spare.
He didn't know this section of town near Northeastern University very well. He'd been a few times already, usually on his bike. But since he was going to get picked up by Paolo, tonight he was on foot and didn't recognize the landmarks from the sidewalks. All things considered, he made only two wrong turns. Not bad for downtown Boston, where even the cabbies got pretty lost
The massage guy's tiny apartment was a classic Back Bay brownstone within sight of the Berklee College of Music.
Jeremy M buzzed from the front and was allowed entry without any words being spoken.
At the top of the stairs, the front door was open a crack. Jeremy M knocked lightly and let himself in.
"Hallo?" Jeremy M called out, unsure if he should proceed beyond the doorway.
"Be right with you," a voice sang out from someplace not too far away.
Jeremy M put down his backpack, freshly stuffed with what few clean clothes he had around. He ran his fingers through his dark red hair and untucked his shirt from the back and side of his pants, leaving the front just behind his belt buckle. He notched a thumb behind his buckle and took a deep breath.
These were always weird moments for Jeremy M.
'Hi, I'm here for the massage I called you about, but I'm mostly looking forward to you fucking me at the end.'
And I'm a good tipper.
Keith the massage guy came around the corner just then he had on a black jock strap.
"Welcome back Jeremy! It is so great to see you again!" he said in a low voice that surprised Jeremy M.
He gave Jeremy a casual hug on the shoulders, which made Jeremy M blush.
Despite the soft light they were standing in, Keith noticed and smiled broadly. He kissed Jeremy lightly on the cheek, allowing his lips to brush across the corner of Jeremy's mouth. Then he took Jeremy M gently by the shoulder and led him back toward a candle lit room. There was a massage table in the center of the room, draped with a white sheet. There was a white wash cloth folded into a tiny triangle in the middle of the sheet, tented up so that it could Be seen against the sheet. The room smelled mildly like cucumber.
Jeremy M's dick gave a jolt as the memory of his most recent visit washed over him. After a couple minutes of pointless back rubbing, the two of them had so wanted to get down to business that there had been no massage at all on that particular day. Keith was more heavily endowed than Jeremy M's average partner, and he had been successful at finding a spot, deep within Jeremy M's ass that caused him to come immediately. Both times that day.
Keith's hand was on Jeremy M's belt buckle now, his fingers resting strategically about a half inch below the waistband.
"Can I get you anything before we start? Water? Tea? Would you like to use the restroom?"
Jeremy M's stomach grumbled.
He was still a little dry from his ride and he still hadn't eaten.
"Nope, I'm all set," Jeremy M blushed again. He wondered what his parents would think of how he was spending his college money. But think of what he was saving on his food bill!
Keith tugged lightly at Jeremy's belt buckle and his body moved closer to Keith's.
"Okay then, what would you like me to work on this evening?"
Keith's hands drew Jeremy's head toward his own. On reflex, Jeremy M closed his eyes and opened his lips. Keith's tongue found Jeremy's, forcing his way inside with a tiny thrust.
Jeremy M moaned involuntarily. In that brief moment, Keith removed his belt and let it drop at their feet.
"Or if you prefer, I can use my hands and the rest of my body to explore every part of your side tidy which areas are I. End of the most attention."
Keith's mouth encircled Jeremy's now, his palm on Jeremy M's back, forcing them closer.
Jeremy M kissed back now, allowing Keith to withdraw, the dance of the tongues, their lips, their breathing perfectly synchronized. Jeremy M moaned again as Keith's fingers massaged the lightly haired region just above the base of Jeremy M's cock. He kicked off his shoes and flipped the, aside. Since he was now shorter than Keith, Jeremy M stood on his tiptoes. Keith's thumb and index finger circled the base of his cock. Jeremy M grew larger and Keith had to open his fingers to keep them in the same place.
"Nice," Keith whispered. "Shall we get you out of these clothes?"
Jeremy M reached his own hands under the black waistband of Keith's jock. He nodded a yes. Keith reached for a switch to dim the lights without losing grip of Jeremy's dick. Ten seconds later, Jeremy M was naked, his clothes in a heap at his feet. Keith arched backward to look Jeremy M over. A fine layer of sweat lay in the center of his chest, glistening in the candle light of the room. Keith rubbed a finger across Jeremy's chest from one hairless nipple to the other. Keith placed the finger inside Jeremy's lips and smiled. Jeremy licked his lips, tasting his own sweat. They both looked down at Jeremy's hard on at the same moment. Keith released his grip on the base and stoked the fat cock all the way to its tip. Jeremy M shuddered at this, but Keith calmed him y moving his body closer and placing a finger between his butt cheeks, Keith's talented fingertips found Jeremy's butthole and pressed around the circle. A droplet of pre-cum oozed from the tip and Keith made good use of this too, rubbing it around the glans of Jeremy's penis.
Jeremy M smiled and tried to remove Keith's jock strap, but Keith held it firmly with one hand. Apparently there would be time for that soon enough. With careful movements of his tongue inside of Jeremy's mouth, Keith glided Jeremy M over to the massage table. Keith removed the tiny little wash cloth that had been placed for his more modest clients. He lay Jeremy M onto his front side, his face in the soft cradle at the top of the table. Jeremy M adjusted his own wiener, pointed it toward the left side, which seemed to fit better.
Keith's hands rubbed oil into Jeremy's back from the tips of his shoulders to the crack of his ass. A few knots in Jeremy's shoulder blades, Keith removed expertly.
When he got to Jeremy's butt, Keith remembered how this had previously driven hi wild so he lightened up his touch. He wanted Jeremy M to enjoy himself fully tonight. Soon enough, Keith would have his own cock inside of Jeremy M.
Maybe he could get the boy to cum three times tonight, that ought to be worth a hefty tip.
Once he was satisfied with the work he all he had achieved in loosening up his butt muscles, Keith set his left ankle across the back of his knee. One of Keith's favorite positions, this allowed him unrestricted access to the dick and balls of his clients. And he didn't do this for them all.
Jeremy M moaned softly as Keith's hands stroked his inner thighs, allowing the tips of his fingers to brush Jeremy's dick lightly without taking hold of it outright. Jeremy M leaked more pre-cum from the head of his dick and Keith could feel it on the back of his wrist. While one hand kept up this continuous motion on Jeremy's thigh, the other hand found his ass again. Keith place his thumb against the pucker of Jeremy's ass and pressed, allowing his fingers to tickle his nut sack. Jeremy's moans increased in volume. Ever so slowly, he increased the pressure of his thumb. Gradually it disappeared inside, all the way to the knuckle. Jeremy M moved his hips rhythmically with the stokes of Keith's hand on his inner thigh. His heart raced.
When Jeremy M could take no more, Keith paused. With a twist, Keith removed his thumb from Jeremy's asshole and rubbed the moist fluid onto the underside of Jeremy's balls.
He had Jeremy M put his left leg back onto the massage table, and softly placed his right leg into the same reverse stretch. behind his knee. Jeremy M lifted his hips up in anticipation of what was to come. Teasingly, Keith let him wait before plunging his thumb inside of Jeremy M again.
By the time Keith had finished the backside of Jeremy's legs, he had cum on the table without anyone touching his cock. Keith had Jeremy M flip over, noting happily that his erection had not gone away; Jeremy's dick thrust upward toward his belly button, as thick and stiff as Keith had ever seen it. Keith let Jeremy M feel his own hardness, behind the fabric of his jock. Not all his clients turned him on like this, but he got a boner every time with Jeremy M.
After a few minutes of gently rubbing out Jeremy's arms, legs, and the front of his chest, Keith got up onto the table and stretched Jeremy's glutes one at a time, pushing the cup of his jock against Jeremy's ass. As he removed his jock and placed it on Jeremy's shoulder, Keith noticed a river of pre-cum on Jeremy's lower abs.
The pre-cum told Keith all he needed to know. Jeremy M was ready to go again.
Keith positioned himself symmetrically between Jeremy's thighs, his own erect cock dangling just over Jeremy's butthole. He grabbed Jeremy's small feet with one hand each and rubbed them firmly as he penetrated Jeremy's hole effortlessly.
Jeremy M moaned loudly now, his ass filled with cock. This time Keith used a dab of massage oil on the head of Jeremy's dick, rubbing it to the same beat he fucked him with.
They came together, their screams muted by their lips locked together.
While he dressed, Jeremy M knew what he smelled like. He would be riding the two to three hours with Paolo in a small car, he wondered how his scent would drive Paolo crazy.
He had cum four times today. A pretty good Saturday, all things considered. But tomorrow was a new day. A new day to ride Paolo's epic penis. With Donnie still in P'town and Paolo alone, could Jeremy M set a new personal record on Sunday?
He hoped so.
If not, there was always Monday back at school in Boston. And maybe TJ.
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WOW! What a long, much appreciated, and Awesome chapter! 
So ... I'm not quite sure what Tommy is ultimately up to, and why. However, even in captivity, Danny seems to be enjoying himself, as much as he can.
If only TJ knew what his TA, Jeremy M, was up to, and into!
Max has certainly become more cunning than previously expected. Might he be using his Money to force something more than we're expecting? Seems he's not all as "innocent" as we might think.
Great writing, Spike! Looking forward to MORE, Please!
Keep Smiln'!!
Chaz
So ... I'm not quite sure what Tommy is ultimately up to, and why. However, even in captivity, Danny seems to be enjoying himself, as much as he can.
If only TJ knew what his TA, Jeremy M, was up to, and into!
Max has certainly become more cunning than previously expected. Might he be using his Money to force something more than we're expecting? Seems he's not all as "innocent" as we might think.
Great writing, Spike! Looking forward to MORE, Please!
Keep Smiln'!!
Chaz
Craiger
JUB Addict
Wow, Spike! This was quite a chapter full of information about several of your characters. It's comforting to know that Danny is still with us even though being Tommy's prisoner. The frightening thing is not know what Tommy plans are for "putting things right." That doesn't sound too good for Danny. Can't wait for the next revealing chapter.
Craiger
Craiger
2008spike
Sex God
David and I were in pretty sad shape after visiting the supermarket.
Somehow, the sight of Danny's blood in the parking lot just made everything more real. Danny was gone; we had known that all week. Now, it appeared that he was hurt. And we didn't know if we were ever going to get him back.
David lay down on the bed in his hotel room, not even bothering to remove his shoes.
"So, what do you think Teej? Are we ever gonna find him?" David asked me, his voice cracking.
I stood looking out the windows, at nothing in particular. I shrugged and looked back at David sprawled on the bed.
His eyes were bloodshot.
"I don't know, buddy," I said.
"I just want this whole nightmare to be over with," David said. "I want my brother back!"
David started to cry. He covered his face with his hands.
I sat on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on his arm.
"I'm so, so sorry David. I wish I'd been with him last Saturday night. I could have kept him under control. Maybe those idiots at the Stop 'N Shop would have..." My voice trailed off.
The truth was that nobody could ever control Danny. Certainly not me. When he was being Danny, showing off for a crowd, that was it! That was just Danny.
And that's what I always loved about the guy. Danny was himself. A fearless fuck. That what's probably made him so good on the track.
And in the sack too.
He was the ultimate fuck buddy.
A power bottom when he needed to be. A great top when he thought that the other guy was worthy of Danny's skills.
And best of all, no strings attached. Danny wasn't looking for love. Ever. He was enjoying life too much to get tied down by a relationship. He was the ultimate "slam, bam, thank you dude!"
I rubbed David's shoulder.
David's shoulder was Danny's shoulder. The two of them had the same build, the same arms, and the same hands. As twins go, they were pretty frigging identical and I'd always struggled to tell them apart. My best chance was just to wait until Danny opened his mouth; the words that came out of Danny's mouth, those words rarely came from David.
Danny was all bravado all the time.
David was not; he was the practical one, patient, honest, the one who talked them out of the trouble that Danny had gotten them into.
I thought to myself. As a matter of fact, David was marriage material, house in the suburbs, picket fence. Danny was the opposite of marriage, the one you had a torrid affair with, never home before sunrise, with a leather sling as the centerpiece in his downtown loft apartment.
David's crying slowed. My hand was behind his neck now, my fingers in the hair at the base of his head. I took the opportunity to study his body, a body I knew well. Danny's body.
My eyes scanned David's chest. Typical runner, like Danny and me, there wasn't a whole lot there in the chest department. No matter how much time we put in lifting weights, all those miles kept us from putting on any muscle.
David's flat stomach heaved up and down with his light sobs. As it did, the dark space behind his zipper got larger, then smaller, then larger again.
I thought of David's dick, hiding quietly beneath the soft fabric of his blue jeans. Danny's dick. I knew every inch of it. Every fold. The angle it hung down when it was soft. The angle it leaped upward when it was hard. I'd sucked it. Been fucked by it. Watched countless cum shots spring forth from the tiny little hole at the end.
Would Danny and I ever screw around again?
I removed my hand from David's neck, and placed it lightly on his lower abdomen, the tips of my fingers in the dark space.
As David breathed up and down, the material of his jeans never made contact with my fingers. I waited a few cycles of inhales and exhales. Then I inched my hand lower into the dark area until I felt David's underwear.
What exactly was I doing? And why? Was it about Danny?
David stopped crying. He removed his hands from his face and placed one of them over mine. He looked at me earnestly, a little confused.
I pulled my hand away.
"I'm so sorry David; I don't know what I was..."
David smiled.
"You were thinking about Danny," David said. "It's okay. I know what you guys do. Or did. It's fine."
He placed his hand on top of mine again, and then moved it back to where it had been. I hesitated.
"It's fine," he said again. His free hand caressed my jaw, and I smiled.
Danny would do that too.
David and I had fooled around back in high school. But the jury was still out on exactly where David stood sexually. While Danny and I had clearly no intentions of ever being with women, with David I wasn't really sure.
Is anybody really bi-sexual? Is David?
He edged my hand deeper under the top of his jeans. The ends of my fingers felt something under the elastic at the top of his underwear.
Was he hard?
David sat up. He brushed his lips against the side of my cheek. I turned to square up our mouths. His lips met mine; his tongue forced my mouth open. As he did, he pushed my hand still lower. I felt the stiff head of his cock. A cock I'd felt so many times before.
But it was David's cock today, not Danny's.
I gave in to the emphatic kiss from David, surrendering my face to his. His hand pushed us together. I tasted the salt from his tears.
Adept with my one hand, I unbuttoned David's jeans. His dick reached out from below and filled my fingers, my hand.
"Are you sure David?" I asked. "I mean, we don't really..."
"Shh, TJ, don't talk. Okay?" David insisted.
David's dick throbbed in my palm. I had felt Danny do that so many times. That usually meant there would be a little drip of pre-cum to follow. I rubbed the tip with a finger. There it was.
David let go of my hand and reached behind me to the backside of my pants. He pawed his weigh beneath my briefs, his fingers searching. I lifted my hips off the bed to allow him better access to my backside. He dove in quickly, his fingers rough against my butthole.
I moaned lightly with the contact. I wanted to be fucked by Danny so badly. I wondered if there was any lube in the room. If not, I could manage with some spit.
I undid the front of my pants and began to lower them to the floor, my other hand rubbing the jizz all over David's cockhead.
Both of us jumped out of our skin when the phone rang. It was my cell.
Fuck.
We looked at each other. Both of us knew we had to get it. It could be Ruggazione with news about Danny. Reluctantly I removed my hand from David's erection. I stood up and reached for my cell phone on the table.
"Hello?"
It was Ruggazione.
"Hi TJ, its Brian. You guys up for some chow? I finished up early and I am headed over your way now."
I was happy he called himself Brian, instead of Officer Ruggazione. And I was happy we were going to go out with him for a bite. But there was still the matter of two very horny college boys who had just started to have sex. The hard-on in my pants hurt.
"Uh," I said.
"I'm five minutes from the hotels downtown. I can pick you guys up outside the lobby," Brian said.
"Uh, five minutes?" I said aloud, for David's benefit.
David grabbed his crotch, smirked once, and then nodded.
"Okay, good, we'll see you downstairs. We're at David's hotel, not mine. See you in five."
I hung up. My cock was a steel rod. I looked at David and smiled.
This was not over.
I splashed a little water on my face and brushed my teeth with my finger using David's toothpaste. I bared my teeth in the mirror. Not too bad I supposed.
Though I maybe had a few more bags under my eyes than I needed to have for being nineteen years old. I ran my fingers through my sandy blonde hair and try pulling my ears down. I fixed the hair but not my ears.
I regarded my hard on.
It wasn't gone but was at least not still poking out the top of my pants. I grabbed my BU track sweatshirt and tied it around my waist. The knot would cover up the offending penis.
David threw himself together just as quickly as I did. It was amazing what one could accomplish when you were about to have dinner and drinks with a police officer.
On the way down in the elevator, I tried Max on his cell. It went straight to voicemail. I wondered what he could be up to. I'd told him all about Officer Ruggazione and his hunkiness. It was unusual that Max would miss an opportunity to hang out with another guy, especially a guy as good looking as Brian Ruggazione. Maybe Max had found himself a poor unsuspecting Yale Freshmen to ravage. I felt sorry for the Yalie.
David and I emerged from the front of the hotel just as Ruggazione was pulling up. I adjusted my sweatshirt knot and opened the passenger side door. Brian was not in uniform and he was not driving a police cruiser. He looked like a regular guy, somebody that I might have met in a bar in Boston.
And then taken back to my room and tied to the bed for days and days
"Hop in," Brian said.
Both David and I hesitated, the memory of the world's filthiest police cruiser still fresh in our minds from earlier today.
Brian picked up immediately why we didn't just hop right in.
"Don't worry boys, it's clean. It's mine. Got it washed this week," he said.
Brian looked amazing out of uniform. He had on a short sleeve white shirt, unbuttoned one more button than he would have been allowed at work, some lightweight khaki pants that tied in the front, and flip flops. I decided to keep my sweatshirt tightly knotted in front of me.
I caught David's eye and he smiled at me. He knew I had a thing for Brian, and he let me have the front seat
"Welcome aboard boys," Brian said, once we were inside and buckled up.
I said a silent prayer that Brian's car would not be my only ride of the night.
Brian took us to a cute little town called Madison that was near the Connecticut seacoast, along the Sound. He said that he knew of a restaurant with great food where we were not likely to get carded.
He was right, we didn't. Brian and I had a couple beers. David ordered red wine. I had a giant hamburger that was the best food I'd eaten in forever.
Nobody wanted to talk about Danny all night. It was exactly what all three of us needed, especially considering what we'd just learned earlier today. Instead, I talked about life at BU, and David stuck mostly to running. Brian asked us about a thousand questions each, but never once mentioning Danny. Brian also did not mention that blood we'd seen in the parking lot.
Finally, when they were clearing the plates away, after having exposed a lot more of myself than I'd intended, I thought it was time to steer the conversation toward Brian.
"So, what's it like being a cop?" I asked.
Brian smiled and made a gun with both hands. He aimed at the ceiling and made a few 'pow' sounds.
David and I laughed.
"Does that mean you like to shoot stuff?" David asked.
"Naw," Brian said. "Everybody thinks that all cops are tough guys who like guns and shit. That's not why I went into it all. I like being a detective and figuring stuff out. I'm not really the 'gun fight at the OK corral type."
"What type are you?" David asked.
Brian shrugged.
"I just did it because I know I look hot in the uniform," Brian answered deadpan.
I looked at David for a moment. Then we all three busted up. Then the waiter came and asked us if we'd like to order another round. It wasn't everyday that I got offered a drink in a restaurant. A so-fucking-lately, we wanted another round, I told the waiter.
When he was gone, the table became quiet again.
"Well you do," I said.
David and Brian both stared at me, waiting for an explanation of what I was talking about.
"I mean, he does, right? Look hot in a police uniform, don't you think?" I said. My face was probably pretty red.
David sighed and clapped me on the back of the neck.
"If you say so, Teej," he said.
I rolled my eyes. David could be such a pain in the ass closet-case sometimes.
I reached out my arms and made a male physique with my hands. "I mean, for a cop, he's pretty fucking perfect, don't you think David?"
Nobody said anything. Had I gone too far? Maybe it was the beer talking.
"Well, I'd do him anyway," I said. I nodded my head for emphasis. There had been no signs during the conversation that I'd be doing anybody. But I still wasn't giving up.
Still silence.
"Okay, I said it out loud, now it's off my chest. I'll just be quiet now."
Brian reached across the table and grabbed the back of my hand. He looked directly into my eyes. Electrical charges started in the hand that Brian was touching and coursed through my body.
"Thanks for being honest, TJ," he said. "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to say that. It makes me feel good to hear it."
David bugged out his eyes and rocked back and forth, robot like. "I'm glad too," he said.
The waiter brought our drinks and the table went silent again. When he was gone, we all took big gulps. I finished half of my new beer before I came up for air. With any luck, the evening was just getting started.
I wondered again where Max had gone off to. He would have really enjoyed tonight.
"So, do you have a girlfriend?" David asked, looking Brian squarely in the face.
He'd waited until I had another mouthful of beer before speaking. I almost choked to death as a result.
After the two of them finished clapping me on the back and restoring the color to my face, David asked again.
"So, do you?"
This time I wasn't drinking anything so my hands were freed up to punch David in the arm.
"David, come on man, leave the guy alone, that's like private police business or something," I said.
Brian cracked up.
"No, no, it's not police business at all, it's not even personal business," he said.
"So the answer is no. You don't have a girlfriend?" David persisted.
"No. No girlfriend."
David whistled lightly. "But you date, right?"
"David! What the fuck?" I said, surprised.
Brian was chuckling again.
"You mean, as opposed to leading a life of lonely masturbation? Is that what you guys think of me?"
We all laughed at that.
"Well, yeah. That." David replied.
"Now, you are getting into private police business for sure," Brian joked.
"Masturbation is police business?" David asked with a grin.
Brian nodded.
"You bet. So is frilly underwear, dick length, and whether I like to get rimmed."
Whoa. This conversation had crossed an imaginary line. And there might be no turning back.
I sure hoped so.
"So do you?" David was relentless.
"Do I what? Like wearing frilly underwear?"
"Stop!" I said to the ceiling.
"No dang it," David answered, ignoring my pleading. "You brought it up. Do you like to get rimmed?"
"Oh my god David! Shut up!" I yelled. "No more wine for you." I moved his glass away. And he promptly moved it right back. This was exasperating!
Brian and I each took another sip of our beers. David was staring intently at Brian, waiting for an answer to his dumb little question about rimming.
"Well of course, who doesn't? It doesn't happen to me often, but when someone has done it, I thought it felt pretty cool," Brian said, a bit sheepishly. "Maybe even really cool," he added with a big smile.
David smacked me on the back.
"You see Teej? The boy likes to get rimmed."
"David, maybe you should shut up..." My voice trailed off. The part of me that wanted to hear the answers to all of David's questions was trying to be in control.
"So, are you offering?" Brian asked.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interrupted. "Maybe we should get the check."
"Not me, do-do head," David said. "TJ."
"Oh my god! David, please!" I screamed.
"What are you so worried about TJ? The boy likes to get rimmed. And you are pretty fucking good at it, sounds like a pretty good fucking match to me!"
Brian remained quiet while I glared at David
"At least, that's what I hear," David added.
"Dave, seriously. Quit!"
"I'm just being like your matchmaker here. What do they call it? Your yenta?"
"The word is pimp," I said.
"Right. Your pimp."
"Thank you, that's very nice. But I really don't want a pimp."
"Don't thank me now, thank metomorrow," David said, proud of himself.
"David!"
"Uh, do I get a say in this?" Brian asked, his hand across his pecs. One more button on his white shirt had accidentally become unbuttoned. I could see the hollow of his sternum between his chest muscles. He had no chest hair and had great skin.
"Yes," I answered, exactly at the same time as David answered no.
"Trust me on this Brian. My brother tells me everything. TJ is fantastic at licking butt," David said. The double entendre hung in the air like a weight and I socked David in the arm again.
"Great," Brian said, "Then it's a date."
I sighed. "So don't I have a say in this?"
"No," the two of them answered in unison.
David chugged the rest of his wine. "Now, let's get the check," he said.
Brian smiled.
What was really going on here? Had I just been pimped out?
"Wait guys. Seriously?" I wondered out loud.
David raised a finger to flag down our server.
"Yes TJ, you know you want to," David said.
"But..."
"Just shush. Trust me. I know what I'm doing," David said.
I had to admit that I didn't really have a solid plan to have sex with Brian. And while David's outrageous proposal was not exactly how I would have seen it happening, maybe he was on to something. Maybe this would really work.
I decided to stop objecting too much.
We all threw some cash onto the table once we got the check.
"And you should trust me too Brian," David added, from left field, when the conversation seemed to have finally come to a conclusion. "TJ has a big dick."
"David! Really?" I pleaded, in spite of myself.
Brian smiled as we stood up. The beers had made me a little unsteady. Good thing I wasn' t driving us home.
"Well, we'll see about that," Brian said quietly in our ears as we began to walk away. "Because I do too."
Apart from the sound of me reaching back to try and punch David in the arm a few more times, which didn't go all that well due to the angle and my inability to carry about a surprise attack from the front seat, the ride back to New Haven was fairly quiet.
Brian was quiet pretty much the whole drive back down I-95 to New Haven. Every once in a while, I'd try to make eye contact with him as he drove. He looked so handsome with his olive skin against the white cloth of his shirt, the moonlight gave him this sort of ethereal glow.
I suppose it could be said that David was pretty good looking too, but I was still sort of pissed at him, so I tried not to think about that.
I was a still little buzzed from all the beer. Still, even though we weren't talking about it anymore, many parts of me were very aware of the strange little agreement that David and Brian had hammered out back in the restaurant.
Was it really going to happen?
I'd put my sweatshirt back over the top part of my pants, just in case the two of them were just joking around and it was not really going to happen. The rimming that is.
My dick had already made up its own mind on how it wanted to spend the rest of tonight.
"Why don't you drop me off first?" David chirped loudly from the back seat. "I'm kind of beat."
Nice one David. Maybe I'd not have to kill him after all.
"Works for me," I said selflessly.
"Well okay, but TJ's hotel is just two streets up," Brian said, in what I hoped was mock protest. Come on dude, remember the deal!.
Did the guy want to get his butt licked or not?
"Brian, if you drop me off first, then I'll just be out of your way and..." David said.
"Oh," Brian said, keeping his eyes straight ahead on the late night New Haven traffic.
Seriously?
I glared at Brian, trying not to look too pathetic.
At the next stoplight, Brian glanced over at me.
"What?" He said.
I just shook my head.
I watched nervously to see what Brian would do when he go to my street. Only when he passed the intersection without making a turn could I relax. I tried not to, but unfortunately a big sigh came out of my mouth anyway. Brian glanced at me again, and I tried to look natural.
When we pulled up to David's hotel, all three of us got out. Brian came around to give David a bro hug. I watched David's face and he smiled at me and shifted his eyes toward Brian. Whatever that meant. Have a lick for me maybe?
Then I gave David a hug too only ours lasted a few seconds longer.
"I'll call you as soon as I wake up," I said. "We are gonna get through this. I promise we will buddy." All was forgiven now.
"I promise too David," Brian added.
David's eyes were glassy when he stepped away to walk into his hotel lobby.
Well, one thing I knewfor sure. The three of us had managed to spend an entire evening thinking about other stuff. Even though Danny was always there in our minds, behind the curtain, it was good for us to have a tiny bit of distraction.
Tomorrowwould be a new day and the search for Danny would start again.
When Brian and I got back into the car, the mood was somehow different. The playful banter we'd had in the restaurant was gone and it was replaced by something else.
I buckled up.
Brian rested a hand on my left thigh.
"So, what's next?" He asked.
"Well, I don't know," I said. "What do you think about all that stuff earlier? You know, from the restaurant. I mean, we really don't have to.."
"I know TJ, I know. So I can just drop you off at the Omni."
Fuck. I looked straight ahead, trying not to pout.
"Or, if you want, I can park and you can show me the hotel."
Yes! I accept! My heart started to race.
"Really? You'd really want to see the hotel?" I asked him, grinning from ear to ear.
Brian smiled too. He had fantastic teeth.
"Sure. It sounds fun. I'd love to see the hotel," Brian said.
"Great! Let's do that!" I said, super excited now.
"How can I pass up an opportunity like this?" Brian asked, looking over at with an even bigger smile on his face.
"Exactly. These things don't come along every day," I agreed. "Better to take advantage of them when we can."
"Right."
"And besides, like David said, I'm pretty good at it," I said, trying not to laugh.
"Good at what?" He teased.
I put my hand on Brian's leg now. By my silence, I gave him his answer. And if he was still clueless, I guess he would see what things I was good at, wouldn't he? Hopefully he would like more than just the one thing.
It took us forever to park.
Well, it was probably just five minutes, but it felt more like an hour. While Brian drove around looking for a spot, I remembered I needed to phone Max.
No answer again. I really hoped Max had found love and was too busy to pick up instead of being asleep in our hotel room.
When Brian turned off the engine, I let my hand linger on his thigh. He left the key in the ignition and placed his hand over mine. He felt a little clammy, but I had just the ticket to warm him up.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine," I said.
He pursed his lips and nodded.
"Besides, remember I've got a really big dick."
He nodded again, his lips curled into a smile. I moved my hand higher on his thigh.
"Good," he said, opening the car door. "Because I do too."
Brian and I rode up the elevator together in silence. I wanted to rip his clothes off as we walked through the lobby, but there was a guy singing at a piano so it was pretty jammed.
We got off at my floor.
"So what do you think of the hotel so far?" I asked.
"It's very, very..." Brian searched for the right word.
"Big?" I offered.
He laughed.
"Big. Yes, that's it. It's very, very big." He agreed.
We walked down the hotel hallway giggling.
"But, you know, it's not like I've seen a lot of them," Brian added.
"Seen a lot of what? Hotels?"
"Yeah right. Hotels. I rarely get invited..."
"Well, you are definitely invited now," I teased.
I fumbled to get the room key out of my pocket. And then fumbled even more trying to make it work in the door. I pushed the card in like five times and kept getting a red light.
"Do you want any help?" Brian offered.
I handed him the card key and backed up into him. He stood his ground and didn't move back. I nuzzled my back side against one leg. Through my clothes, his leg felt taut and powerful. While Brian duplicated what I had done with the key, I concentrated on testing out his anatomy with my butt. I couldn't tell everything that I wanted to, but one thing was certain.
Brian tried the key at least five times, but we still couldn't get in.
"Should I break down the door.. I'm a professional you know." Brian said.
"You can do that? Just like on all those cop shows?"
He nodded. I arched backward and raised my face to his.
"Yup. We are carefully trained to open locked doors with just one kick."
"Wow!" I said, meaning it.
He laughed.
"It doesn't usually work though. I'm more likely to break my ankle.
Now I laughed too.
Facing upward, I could see that the room number on the door didn't match the one on my key card. I had brought us to the wrong room. Uh-oh. I hope all this commotion we were making hadn't woken up the people inside.
I snatched the card from from Brian's thick fingers. I walked quickly over to my actual room. The card opened it on the first try and Brian followed me inside.
I placed a finger over my lips, just in case Max was there on the bed. It took my eyes a moment to adjust as I tiptoed over to the edge of the bed. It didn't seem to be unmade, still covered in the pillows that the maids had placed there earlier. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"The coast is clear," I said.
Brian smiled as I flipped a light on.
"So, show me your room" Brian said slyly. "I want to see everything."
I started the room tour over at the window. There want much to see. Skyline views of New Haven were limited by the fact that all we could see was other high rise office buildings in New Haven.
"Very nice," Brian said earnestly as I opened the little sheer curtains. "I made an arrest in that building once."
"Nice," I said. "Did you have to kick down the door?"
He grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face him. I was a little shorter than he was so I flexed my neck upward again. Our eyes met, a pause before our lips did.
"No," he said softly. "The perp came along willingly. As cops, we're also trained to get what we want without exerting force."
My mouth opened and he placed his tongue lightly under my top lip. Not too much force. He moved closer and his tongue came with, easily finding mine. I wrapped my lips around his tongue. We both tasted of beer, but Brian had a freshness too. Had he snagged a mint from the restaurant without me seeing?
Brian was a passionate kisser. We stood in front of the window for a long time, exploring each other's mouths, our faces mashed together, our noses side to side. He placed his hand in my hair to draw me closer. I grabbed his neck and held on tightly. As we kissed, I felt the same powerful leg muscles straining against my mid-section. His ass was unbelievably tight. His abs were flawless, his nipples flat but firm.
I was so excited to be kissing Brian that I struggled to breathe. I couldn't wait to get him out of his clothes. Had I ever been with somebody who had such a perfectly chiseled body?
I undid a few more buttons on his shirt. He kicked off his sandals. The height difference between us changed. We both adjusted, now I had better access to his top lip. His tongue found my lower lip and we explored the new territory for a few more minutes.
I finished up with Brian's shirt and flung it onto the desk chair, trying to keep it from wrinkling.
I ran my fingers over his chest and the deep cave between his pecs. There were fine little hairs that I hadn't previously seen. Brian shuddered as my hands rubbed him lightly. Then I paused and held his shoulders. We kissed again, my body warming his, slowing us down.
Brian untied the sweat shirt from my waist and let it drop to the ground. My t shirt came off with no effort. When it was over my head but still wrapped around my forearms, Brian let it stay there, keeping my wrists and hands cuffed above me. He kissed my neck and my upper torso. I was powerless resist as his mouth moved to the area under my arm ,teasing me with his tongue. Now it was my turn to shudder. Then Brian replicated the shoulder hold he'd just seen from me. He held me tightly with a kiss while the moment passed and we both became warm again.
I reached down to untie my shoes. Brian waited patiently for me his bare feet caressing my shoes, then my own sock less feet as I got the left one off first, then the right. Now our heights adjusted back to where we were before. Our tongues started afresh on those parts of our faces that we had started with. This took several minutes more before we were both satisfied with our kissing
"You're pretty good at this," I said, meaning the kissing.
Brian moved his head backward and looked around the room. "I love exploring new things." I think he meant the kissing too. To be certain, I started up again, this time I was the aggressor. Despite the height difference, I focused on his upper lip and the top of his mouth. I stood on tiptoes as my tongue licked the inside of his upper teeth and flicked lightly toward the soft part in the back.
Brian undid the rope holding his pants up. He began to remove his underwear, but I wasn't ready yet. I held the waistband between my fingers and pulled them lightly upward. He moaned as his balls got smushed a bit. I placed a finger through the front entry and made sure I hadn't caused a problem in there. His balls were thick and a little fuzzy. He moaned again.
Before I knew it, Brian had my own pants on the floor. He repeated what he had done with my shirt, keeping them around my ankles so I couldn't move. His hands stroked my thighs and the upper part of my hamstrings. His fingertips slipped under the lower part of my boxer briefs.
"Mm," he said. "A runner. Very nice "
"Thanks. You're not so scrawny yourself."
We mashed ourselves together even more tightly, our hard cocks pressing at the other, Brian's on top of mine heading left. Mine underneath his heading right. I thought I might cum just from that.
Brian's kissing kicked up a notch, he was so wet inside his mouth that my usual dry mouth was completely fixed by his. Since I was so turned on, and I didn't want to spoil things by orgasming before I'd even gotten out underwear off, I needed to change things up.
Then I remembered.
Quickly I flipped Brian around and bent him at the hips. He began to protest, but before he could I had his underpants off and flung alongside his shirt. I pushed him toward the bed and he used his hands to remain upright but bent over. Kneeling down behind him, I spread his but cheeks with my palms and put my face between. My tongue found its target immediately. He had a great hairless ass. I used all the saliva I had on the outside of Brian's butt. He shuddered again, but this time I kept up without slowing down.
"Ahh!" Brian said.
With my hands, I forced Brian's right leg up onto the bed. He kept the left onto the floor. The new angle was probably a good stretch, but it allowed my tongue a lot better access to his butt.
"Ahh!" He said again, this time louder.
I held his balls with one hand, the tips of my fingers tugging them gently away from his ass.
"Jesus Christ!" Brian said. "That feels so fucking good!"
For the next twenty minutes, I kept him like this. He was putty in my hands. I had alternately been rubbing his fat cock, pulling at his nut sack, and licking both his ass and that little area behind his balls.
"Oh my god, TJ," he said finally. "I can't fucking believe what you're doing to me."
"Mm," I said in response, not really wanting to have a conversation.
David was right, he agreed. I'm good at this.
"And you were right," I agreed. "You do have a big cock."
When he could take no more of my rimming him, I let him fuck me. It didn't take long for me to cum with his giant dick inside of me. When I had his cock in my hand, my fingers barely fit around the barrel. In my ass, I felt like I was opened up like never before.
Brian was patient with his fucking, allowing me to enjoy him completely. Which he did. When he finally came, I was nearly to the point of getting hard all over again. He squirted his own load just outside my butt, under my nut sack as I lay on my back.
We kissed for a few minutes more. Neither of us bothered to move, and I lay in his arms, spent.
It had been a crazy day. Some parts I never wanted to happen again. But the part with Brian, that was something I could live with for a long time. Maybe even forever.
I felt warm and safe. In no time, we both fell asleep.
Somehow, the sight of Danny's blood in the parking lot just made everything more real. Danny was gone; we had known that all week. Now, it appeared that he was hurt. And we didn't know if we were ever going to get him back.
David lay down on the bed in his hotel room, not even bothering to remove his shoes.
"So, what do you think Teej? Are we ever gonna find him?" David asked me, his voice cracking.
I stood looking out the windows, at nothing in particular. I shrugged and looked back at David sprawled on the bed.
His eyes were bloodshot.
"I don't know, buddy," I said.
"I just want this whole nightmare to be over with," David said. "I want my brother back!"
David started to cry. He covered his face with his hands.
I sat on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on his arm.
"I'm so, so sorry David. I wish I'd been with him last Saturday night. I could have kept him under control. Maybe those idiots at the Stop 'N Shop would have..." My voice trailed off.
The truth was that nobody could ever control Danny. Certainly not me. When he was being Danny, showing off for a crowd, that was it! That was just Danny.
And that's what I always loved about the guy. Danny was himself. A fearless fuck. That what's probably made him so good on the track.
And in the sack too.
He was the ultimate fuck buddy.
A power bottom when he needed to be. A great top when he thought that the other guy was worthy of Danny's skills.
And best of all, no strings attached. Danny wasn't looking for love. Ever. He was enjoying life too much to get tied down by a relationship. He was the ultimate "slam, bam, thank you dude!"
I rubbed David's shoulder.
David's shoulder was Danny's shoulder. The two of them had the same build, the same arms, and the same hands. As twins go, they were pretty frigging identical and I'd always struggled to tell them apart. My best chance was just to wait until Danny opened his mouth; the words that came out of Danny's mouth, those words rarely came from David.
Danny was all bravado all the time.
David was not; he was the practical one, patient, honest, the one who talked them out of the trouble that Danny had gotten them into.
I thought to myself. As a matter of fact, David was marriage material, house in the suburbs, picket fence. Danny was the opposite of marriage, the one you had a torrid affair with, never home before sunrise, with a leather sling as the centerpiece in his downtown loft apartment.
David's crying slowed. My hand was behind his neck now, my fingers in the hair at the base of his head. I took the opportunity to study his body, a body I knew well. Danny's body.
My eyes scanned David's chest. Typical runner, like Danny and me, there wasn't a whole lot there in the chest department. No matter how much time we put in lifting weights, all those miles kept us from putting on any muscle.
David's flat stomach heaved up and down with his light sobs. As it did, the dark space behind his zipper got larger, then smaller, then larger again.
I thought of David's dick, hiding quietly beneath the soft fabric of his blue jeans. Danny's dick. I knew every inch of it. Every fold. The angle it hung down when it was soft. The angle it leaped upward when it was hard. I'd sucked it. Been fucked by it. Watched countless cum shots spring forth from the tiny little hole at the end.
Would Danny and I ever screw around again?
I removed my hand from David's neck, and placed it lightly on his lower abdomen, the tips of my fingers in the dark space.
As David breathed up and down, the material of his jeans never made contact with my fingers. I waited a few cycles of inhales and exhales. Then I inched my hand lower into the dark area until I felt David's underwear.
What exactly was I doing? And why? Was it about Danny?
David stopped crying. He removed his hands from his face and placed one of them over mine. He looked at me earnestly, a little confused.
I pulled my hand away.
"I'm so sorry David; I don't know what I was..."
David smiled.
"You were thinking about Danny," David said. "It's okay. I know what you guys do. Or did. It's fine."
He placed his hand on top of mine again, and then moved it back to where it had been. I hesitated.
"It's fine," he said again. His free hand caressed my jaw, and I smiled.
Danny would do that too.
David and I had fooled around back in high school. But the jury was still out on exactly where David stood sexually. While Danny and I had clearly no intentions of ever being with women, with David I wasn't really sure.
Is anybody really bi-sexual? Is David?
He edged my hand deeper under the top of his jeans. The ends of my fingers felt something under the elastic at the top of his underwear.
Was he hard?
David sat up. He brushed his lips against the side of my cheek. I turned to square up our mouths. His lips met mine; his tongue forced my mouth open. As he did, he pushed my hand still lower. I felt the stiff head of his cock. A cock I'd felt so many times before.
But it was David's cock today, not Danny's.
I gave in to the emphatic kiss from David, surrendering my face to his. His hand pushed us together. I tasted the salt from his tears.
Adept with my one hand, I unbuttoned David's jeans. His dick reached out from below and filled my fingers, my hand.
"Are you sure David?" I asked. "I mean, we don't really..."
"Shh, TJ, don't talk. Okay?" David insisted.
David's dick throbbed in my palm. I had felt Danny do that so many times. That usually meant there would be a little drip of pre-cum to follow. I rubbed the tip with a finger. There it was.
David let go of my hand and reached behind me to the backside of my pants. He pawed his weigh beneath my briefs, his fingers searching. I lifted my hips off the bed to allow him better access to my backside. He dove in quickly, his fingers rough against my butthole.
I moaned lightly with the contact. I wanted to be fucked by Danny so badly. I wondered if there was any lube in the room. If not, I could manage with some spit.
I undid the front of my pants and began to lower them to the floor, my other hand rubbing the jizz all over David's cockhead.
Both of us jumped out of our skin when the phone rang. It was my cell.
Fuck.
We looked at each other. Both of us knew we had to get it. It could be Ruggazione with news about Danny. Reluctantly I removed my hand from David's erection. I stood up and reached for my cell phone on the table.
"Hello?"
It was Ruggazione.
"Hi TJ, its Brian. You guys up for some chow? I finished up early and I am headed over your way now."
I was happy he called himself Brian, instead of Officer Ruggazione. And I was happy we were going to go out with him for a bite. But there was still the matter of two very horny college boys who had just started to have sex. The hard-on in my pants hurt.
"Uh," I said.
"I'm five minutes from the hotels downtown. I can pick you guys up outside the lobby," Brian said.
"Uh, five minutes?" I said aloud, for David's benefit.
David grabbed his crotch, smirked once, and then nodded.
"Okay, good, we'll see you downstairs. We're at David's hotel, not mine. See you in five."
I hung up. My cock was a steel rod. I looked at David and smiled.
This was not over.
I splashed a little water on my face and brushed my teeth with my finger using David's toothpaste. I bared my teeth in the mirror. Not too bad I supposed.
Though I maybe had a few more bags under my eyes than I needed to have for being nineteen years old. I ran my fingers through my sandy blonde hair and try pulling my ears down. I fixed the hair but not my ears.
I regarded my hard on.
It wasn't gone but was at least not still poking out the top of my pants. I grabbed my BU track sweatshirt and tied it around my waist. The knot would cover up the offending penis.
David threw himself together just as quickly as I did. It was amazing what one could accomplish when you were about to have dinner and drinks with a police officer.
On the way down in the elevator, I tried Max on his cell. It went straight to voicemail. I wondered what he could be up to. I'd told him all about Officer Ruggazione and his hunkiness. It was unusual that Max would miss an opportunity to hang out with another guy, especially a guy as good looking as Brian Ruggazione. Maybe Max had found himself a poor unsuspecting Yale Freshmen to ravage. I felt sorry for the Yalie.
David and I emerged from the front of the hotel just as Ruggazione was pulling up. I adjusted my sweatshirt knot and opened the passenger side door. Brian was not in uniform and he was not driving a police cruiser. He looked like a regular guy, somebody that I might have met in a bar in Boston.
And then taken back to my room and tied to the bed for days and days
"Hop in," Brian said.
Both David and I hesitated, the memory of the world's filthiest police cruiser still fresh in our minds from earlier today.
Brian picked up immediately why we didn't just hop right in.
"Don't worry boys, it's clean. It's mine. Got it washed this week," he said.
Brian looked amazing out of uniform. He had on a short sleeve white shirt, unbuttoned one more button than he would have been allowed at work, some lightweight khaki pants that tied in the front, and flip flops. I decided to keep my sweatshirt tightly knotted in front of me.
I caught David's eye and he smiled at me. He knew I had a thing for Brian, and he let me have the front seat
"Welcome aboard boys," Brian said, once we were inside and buckled up.
I said a silent prayer that Brian's car would not be my only ride of the night.
Brian took us to a cute little town called Madison that was near the Connecticut seacoast, along the Sound. He said that he knew of a restaurant with great food where we were not likely to get carded.
He was right, we didn't. Brian and I had a couple beers. David ordered red wine. I had a giant hamburger that was the best food I'd eaten in forever.
Nobody wanted to talk about Danny all night. It was exactly what all three of us needed, especially considering what we'd just learned earlier today. Instead, I talked about life at BU, and David stuck mostly to running. Brian asked us about a thousand questions each, but never once mentioning Danny. Brian also did not mention that blood we'd seen in the parking lot.
Finally, when they were clearing the plates away, after having exposed a lot more of myself than I'd intended, I thought it was time to steer the conversation toward Brian.
"So, what's it like being a cop?" I asked.
Brian smiled and made a gun with both hands. He aimed at the ceiling and made a few 'pow' sounds.
David and I laughed.
"Does that mean you like to shoot stuff?" David asked.
"Naw," Brian said. "Everybody thinks that all cops are tough guys who like guns and shit. That's not why I went into it all. I like being a detective and figuring stuff out. I'm not really the 'gun fight at the OK corral type."
"What type are you?" David asked.
Brian shrugged.
"I just did it because I know I look hot in the uniform," Brian answered deadpan.
I looked at David for a moment. Then we all three busted up. Then the waiter came and asked us if we'd like to order another round. It wasn't everyday that I got offered a drink in a restaurant. A so-fucking-lately, we wanted another round, I told the waiter.
When he was gone, the table became quiet again.
"Well you do," I said.
David and Brian both stared at me, waiting for an explanation of what I was talking about.
"I mean, he does, right? Look hot in a police uniform, don't you think?" I said. My face was probably pretty red.
David sighed and clapped me on the back of the neck.
"If you say so, Teej," he said.
I rolled my eyes. David could be such a pain in the ass closet-case sometimes.
I reached out my arms and made a male physique with my hands. "I mean, for a cop, he's pretty fucking perfect, don't you think David?"
Nobody said anything. Had I gone too far? Maybe it was the beer talking.
"Well, I'd do him anyway," I said. I nodded my head for emphasis. There had been no signs during the conversation that I'd be doing anybody. But I still wasn't giving up.
Still silence.
"Okay, I said it out loud, now it's off my chest. I'll just be quiet now."
Brian reached across the table and grabbed the back of my hand. He looked directly into my eyes. Electrical charges started in the hand that Brian was touching and coursed through my body.
"Thanks for being honest, TJ," he said. "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to say that. It makes me feel good to hear it."
David bugged out his eyes and rocked back and forth, robot like. "I'm glad too," he said.
The waiter brought our drinks and the table went silent again. When he was gone, we all took big gulps. I finished half of my new beer before I came up for air. With any luck, the evening was just getting started.
I wondered again where Max had gone off to. He would have really enjoyed tonight.
"So, do you have a girlfriend?" David asked, looking Brian squarely in the face.
He'd waited until I had another mouthful of beer before speaking. I almost choked to death as a result.
After the two of them finished clapping me on the back and restoring the color to my face, David asked again.
"So, do you?"
This time I wasn't drinking anything so my hands were freed up to punch David in the arm.
"David, come on man, leave the guy alone, that's like private police business or something," I said.
Brian cracked up.
"No, no, it's not police business at all, it's not even personal business," he said.
"So the answer is no. You don't have a girlfriend?" David persisted.
"No. No girlfriend."
David whistled lightly. "But you date, right?"
"David! What the fuck?" I said, surprised.
Brian was chuckling again.
"You mean, as opposed to leading a life of lonely masturbation? Is that what you guys think of me?"
We all laughed at that.
"Well, yeah. That." David replied.
"Now, you are getting into private police business for sure," Brian joked.
"Masturbation is police business?" David asked with a grin.
Brian nodded.
"You bet. So is frilly underwear, dick length, and whether I like to get rimmed."
Whoa. This conversation had crossed an imaginary line. And there might be no turning back.
I sure hoped so.
"So do you?" David was relentless.
"Do I what? Like wearing frilly underwear?"
"Stop!" I said to the ceiling.
"No dang it," David answered, ignoring my pleading. "You brought it up. Do you like to get rimmed?"
"Oh my god David! Shut up!" I yelled. "No more wine for you." I moved his glass away. And he promptly moved it right back. This was exasperating!
Brian and I each took another sip of our beers. David was staring intently at Brian, waiting for an answer to his dumb little question about rimming.
"Well of course, who doesn't? It doesn't happen to me often, but when someone has done it, I thought it felt pretty cool," Brian said, a bit sheepishly. "Maybe even really cool," he added with a big smile.
David smacked me on the back.
"You see Teej? The boy likes to get rimmed."
"David, maybe you should shut up..." My voice trailed off. The part of me that wanted to hear the answers to all of David's questions was trying to be in control.
"So, are you offering?" Brian asked.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interrupted. "Maybe we should get the check."
"Not me, do-do head," David said. "TJ."
"Oh my god! David, please!" I screamed.
"What are you so worried about TJ? The boy likes to get rimmed. And you are pretty fucking good at it, sounds like a pretty good fucking match to me!"
Brian remained quiet while I glared at David
"At least, that's what I hear," David added.
"Dave, seriously. Quit!"
"I'm just being like your matchmaker here. What do they call it? Your yenta?"
"The word is pimp," I said.
"Right. Your pimp."
"Thank you, that's very nice. But I really don't want a pimp."
"Don't thank me now, thank metomorrow," David said, proud of himself.
"David!"
"Uh, do I get a say in this?" Brian asked, his hand across his pecs. One more button on his white shirt had accidentally become unbuttoned. I could see the hollow of his sternum between his chest muscles. He had no chest hair and had great skin.
"Yes," I answered, exactly at the same time as David answered no.
"Trust me on this Brian. My brother tells me everything. TJ is fantastic at licking butt," David said. The double entendre hung in the air like a weight and I socked David in the arm again.
"Great," Brian said, "Then it's a date."
I sighed. "So don't I have a say in this?"
"No," the two of them answered in unison.
David chugged the rest of his wine. "Now, let's get the check," he said.
Brian smiled.
What was really going on here? Had I just been pimped out?
"Wait guys. Seriously?" I wondered out loud.
David raised a finger to flag down our server.
"Yes TJ, you know you want to," David said.
"But..."
"Just shush. Trust me. I know what I'm doing," David said.
I had to admit that I didn't really have a solid plan to have sex with Brian. And while David's outrageous proposal was not exactly how I would have seen it happening, maybe he was on to something. Maybe this would really work.
I decided to stop objecting too much.
We all threw some cash onto the table once we got the check.
"And you should trust me too Brian," David added, from left field, when the conversation seemed to have finally come to a conclusion. "TJ has a big dick."
"David! Really?" I pleaded, in spite of myself.
Brian smiled as we stood up. The beers had made me a little unsteady. Good thing I wasn' t driving us home.
"Well, we'll see about that," Brian said quietly in our ears as we began to walk away. "Because I do too."
Apart from the sound of me reaching back to try and punch David in the arm a few more times, which didn't go all that well due to the angle and my inability to carry about a surprise attack from the front seat, the ride back to New Haven was fairly quiet.
Brian was quiet pretty much the whole drive back down I-95 to New Haven. Every once in a while, I'd try to make eye contact with him as he drove. He looked so handsome with his olive skin against the white cloth of his shirt, the moonlight gave him this sort of ethereal glow.
I suppose it could be said that David was pretty good looking too, but I was still sort of pissed at him, so I tried not to think about that.
I was a still little buzzed from all the beer. Still, even though we weren't talking about it anymore, many parts of me were very aware of the strange little agreement that David and Brian had hammered out back in the restaurant.
Was it really going to happen?
I'd put my sweatshirt back over the top part of my pants, just in case the two of them were just joking around and it was not really going to happen. The rimming that is.
My dick had already made up its own mind on how it wanted to spend the rest of tonight.
"Why don't you drop me off first?" David chirped loudly from the back seat. "I'm kind of beat."
Nice one David. Maybe I'd not have to kill him after all.
"Works for me," I said selflessly.
"Well okay, but TJ's hotel is just two streets up," Brian said, in what I hoped was mock protest. Come on dude, remember the deal!.
Did the guy want to get his butt licked or not?
"Brian, if you drop me off first, then I'll just be out of your way and..." David said.
"Oh," Brian said, keeping his eyes straight ahead on the late night New Haven traffic.
Seriously?
I glared at Brian, trying not to look too pathetic.
At the next stoplight, Brian glanced over at me.
"What?" He said.
I just shook my head.
I watched nervously to see what Brian would do when he go to my street. Only when he passed the intersection without making a turn could I relax. I tried not to, but unfortunately a big sigh came out of my mouth anyway. Brian glanced at me again, and I tried to look natural.
When we pulled up to David's hotel, all three of us got out. Brian came around to give David a bro hug. I watched David's face and he smiled at me and shifted his eyes toward Brian. Whatever that meant. Have a lick for me maybe?
Then I gave David a hug too only ours lasted a few seconds longer.
"I'll call you as soon as I wake up," I said. "We are gonna get through this. I promise we will buddy." All was forgiven now.
"I promise too David," Brian added.
David's eyes were glassy when he stepped away to walk into his hotel lobby.
Well, one thing I knewfor sure. The three of us had managed to spend an entire evening thinking about other stuff. Even though Danny was always there in our minds, behind the curtain, it was good for us to have a tiny bit of distraction.
Tomorrowwould be a new day and the search for Danny would start again.
When Brian and I got back into the car, the mood was somehow different. The playful banter we'd had in the restaurant was gone and it was replaced by something else.
I buckled up.
Brian rested a hand on my left thigh.
"So, what's next?" He asked.
"Well, I don't know," I said. "What do you think about all that stuff earlier? You know, from the restaurant. I mean, we really don't have to.."
"I know TJ, I know. So I can just drop you off at the Omni."
Fuck. I looked straight ahead, trying not to pout.
"Or, if you want, I can park and you can show me the hotel."
Yes! I accept! My heart started to race.
"Really? You'd really want to see the hotel?" I asked him, grinning from ear to ear.
Brian smiled too. He had fantastic teeth.
"Sure. It sounds fun. I'd love to see the hotel," Brian said.
"Great! Let's do that!" I said, super excited now.
"How can I pass up an opportunity like this?" Brian asked, looking over at with an even bigger smile on his face.
"Exactly. These things don't come along every day," I agreed. "Better to take advantage of them when we can."
"Right."
"And besides, like David said, I'm pretty good at it," I said, trying not to laugh.
"Good at what?" He teased.
I put my hand on Brian's leg now. By my silence, I gave him his answer. And if he was still clueless, I guess he would see what things I was good at, wouldn't he? Hopefully he would like more than just the one thing.
It took us forever to park.
Well, it was probably just five minutes, but it felt more like an hour. While Brian drove around looking for a spot, I remembered I needed to phone Max.
No answer again. I really hoped Max had found love and was too busy to pick up instead of being asleep in our hotel room.
When Brian turned off the engine, I let my hand linger on his thigh. He left the key in the ignition and placed his hand over mine. He felt a little clammy, but I had just the ticket to warm him up.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine," I said.
He pursed his lips and nodded.
"Besides, remember I've got a really big dick."
He nodded again, his lips curled into a smile. I moved my hand higher on his thigh.
"Good," he said, opening the car door. "Because I do too."
Brian and I rode up the elevator together in silence. I wanted to rip his clothes off as we walked through the lobby, but there was a guy singing at a piano so it was pretty jammed.
We got off at my floor.
"So what do you think of the hotel so far?" I asked.
"It's very, very..." Brian searched for the right word.
"Big?" I offered.
He laughed.
"Big. Yes, that's it. It's very, very big." He agreed.
We walked down the hotel hallway giggling.
"But, you know, it's not like I've seen a lot of them," Brian added.
"Seen a lot of what? Hotels?"
"Yeah right. Hotels. I rarely get invited..."
"Well, you are definitely invited now," I teased.
I fumbled to get the room key out of my pocket. And then fumbled even more trying to make it work in the door. I pushed the card in like five times and kept getting a red light.
"Do you want any help?" Brian offered.
I handed him the card key and backed up into him. He stood his ground and didn't move back. I nuzzled my back side against one leg. Through my clothes, his leg felt taut and powerful. While Brian duplicated what I had done with the key, I concentrated on testing out his anatomy with my butt. I couldn't tell everything that I wanted to, but one thing was certain.
Brian tried the key at least five times, but we still couldn't get in.
"Should I break down the door.. I'm a professional you know." Brian said.
"You can do that? Just like on all those cop shows?"
He nodded. I arched backward and raised my face to his.
"Yup. We are carefully trained to open locked doors with just one kick."
"Wow!" I said, meaning it.
He laughed.
"It doesn't usually work though. I'm more likely to break my ankle.
Now I laughed too.
Facing upward, I could see that the room number on the door didn't match the one on my key card. I had brought us to the wrong room. Uh-oh. I hope all this commotion we were making hadn't woken up the people inside.
I snatched the card from from Brian's thick fingers. I walked quickly over to my actual room. The card opened it on the first try and Brian followed me inside.
I placed a finger over my lips, just in case Max was there on the bed. It took my eyes a moment to adjust as I tiptoed over to the edge of the bed. It didn't seem to be unmade, still covered in the pillows that the maids had placed there earlier. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"The coast is clear," I said.
Brian smiled as I flipped a light on.
"So, show me your room" Brian said slyly. "I want to see everything."
I started the room tour over at the window. There want much to see. Skyline views of New Haven were limited by the fact that all we could see was other high rise office buildings in New Haven.
"Very nice," Brian said earnestly as I opened the little sheer curtains. "I made an arrest in that building once."
"Nice," I said. "Did you have to kick down the door?"
He grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face him. I was a little shorter than he was so I flexed my neck upward again. Our eyes met, a pause before our lips did.
"No," he said softly. "The perp came along willingly. As cops, we're also trained to get what we want without exerting force."
My mouth opened and he placed his tongue lightly under my top lip. Not too much force. He moved closer and his tongue came with, easily finding mine. I wrapped my lips around his tongue. We both tasted of beer, but Brian had a freshness too. Had he snagged a mint from the restaurant without me seeing?
Brian was a passionate kisser. We stood in front of the window for a long time, exploring each other's mouths, our faces mashed together, our noses side to side. He placed his hand in my hair to draw me closer. I grabbed his neck and held on tightly. As we kissed, I felt the same powerful leg muscles straining against my mid-section. His ass was unbelievably tight. His abs were flawless, his nipples flat but firm.
I was so excited to be kissing Brian that I struggled to breathe. I couldn't wait to get him out of his clothes. Had I ever been with somebody who had such a perfectly chiseled body?
I undid a few more buttons on his shirt. He kicked off his sandals. The height difference between us changed. We both adjusted, now I had better access to his top lip. His tongue found my lower lip and we explored the new territory for a few more minutes.
I finished up with Brian's shirt and flung it onto the desk chair, trying to keep it from wrinkling.
I ran my fingers over his chest and the deep cave between his pecs. There were fine little hairs that I hadn't previously seen. Brian shuddered as my hands rubbed him lightly. Then I paused and held his shoulders. We kissed again, my body warming his, slowing us down.
Brian untied the sweat shirt from my waist and let it drop to the ground. My t shirt came off with no effort. When it was over my head but still wrapped around my forearms, Brian let it stay there, keeping my wrists and hands cuffed above me. He kissed my neck and my upper torso. I was powerless resist as his mouth moved to the area under my arm ,teasing me with his tongue. Now it was my turn to shudder. Then Brian replicated the shoulder hold he'd just seen from me. He held me tightly with a kiss while the moment passed and we both became warm again.
I reached down to untie my shoes. Brian waited patiently for me his bare feet caressing my shoes, then my own sock less feet as I got the left one off first, then the right. Now our heights adjusted back to where we were before. Our tongues started afresh on those parts of our faces that we had started with. This took several minutes more before we were both satisfied with our kissing
"You're pretty good at this," I said, meaning the kissing.
Brian moved his head backward and looked around the room. "I love exploring new things." I think he meant the kissing too. To be certain, I started up again, this time I was the aggressor. Despite the height difference, I focused on his upper lip and the top of his mouth. I stood on tiptoes as my tongue licked the inside of his upper teeth and flicked lightly toward the soft part in the back.
Brian undid the rope holding his pants up. He began to remove his underwear, but I wasn't ready yet. I held the waistband between my fingers and pulled them lightly upward. He moaned as his balls got smushed a bit. I placed a finger through the front entry and made sure I hadn't caused a problem in there. His balls were thick and a little fuzzy. He moaned again.
Before I knew it, Brian had my own pants on the floor. He repeated what he had done with my shirt, keeping them around my ankles so I couldn't move. His hands stroked my thighs and the upper part of my hamstrings. His fingertips slipped under the lower part of my boxer briefs.
"Mm," he said. "A runner. Very nice "
"Thanks. You're not so scrawny yourself."
We mashed ourselves together even more tightly, our hard cocks pressing at the other, Brian's on top of mine heading left. Mine underneath his heading right. I thought I might cum just from that.
Brian's kissing kicked up a notch, he was so wet inside his mouth that my usual dry mouth was completely fixed by his. Since I was so turned on, and I didn't want to spoil things by orgasming before I'd even gotten out underwear off, I needed to change things up.
Then I remembered.
Quickly I flipped Brian around and bent him at the hips. He began to protest, but before he could I had his underpants off and flung alongside his shirt. I pushed him toward the bed and he used his hands to remain upright but bent over. Kneeling down behind him, I spread his but cheeks with my palms and put my face between. My tongue found its target immediately. He had a great hairless ass. I used all the saliva I had on the outside of Brian's butt. He shuddered again, but this time I kept up without slowing down.
"Ahh!" Brian said.
With my hands, I forced Brian's right leg up onto the bed. He kept the left onto the floor. The new angle was probably a good stretch, but it allowed my tongue a lot better access to his butt.
"Ahh!" He said again, this time louder.
I held his balls with one hand, the tips of my fingers tugging them gently away from his ass.
"Jesus Christ!" Brian said. "That feels so fucking good!"
For the next twenty minutes, I kept him like this. He was putty in my hands. I had alternately been rubbing his fat cock, pulling at his nut sack, and licking both his ass and that little area behind his balls.
"Oh my god, TJ," he said finally. "I can't fucking believe what you're doing to me."
"Mm," I said in response, not really wanting to have a conversation.
David was right, he agreed. I'm good at this.
"And you were right," I agreed. "You do have a big cock."
When he could take no more of my rimming him, I let him fuck me. It didn't take long for me to cum with his giant dick inside of me. When I had his cock in my hand, my fingers barely fit around the barrel. In my ass, I felt like I was opened up like never before.
Brian was patient with his fucking, allowing me to enjoy him completely. Which he did. When he finally came, I was nearly to the point of getting hard all over again. He squirted his own load just outside my butt, under my nut sack as I lay on my back.
We kissed for a few minutes more. Neither of us bothered to move, and I lay in his arms, spent.
It had been a crazy day. Some parts I never wanted to happen again. But the part with Brian, that was something I could live with for a long time. Maybe even forever.
I felt warm and safe. In no time, we both fell asleep.
- Joined
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Spike, Buddy! 
THANK YOU!, for this Awesome chapter!
I guess David actually DID know what he was doing, helping T.J. realize his dream of being "Slammed in the Pokey", by a cop!
Now I'm wondering, where the hell is Max, and WTF is he up to?
And, no, I haven't forgotten about Danny's predicament.
However, be assured that reading YOU is sheer pleasure!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
THANK YOU!, for this Awesome chapter!
I guess David actually DID know what he was doing, helping T.J. realize his dream of being "Slammed in the Pokey", by a cop!
Now I'm wondering, where the hell is Max, and WTF is he up to?
And, no, I haven't forgotten about Danny's predicament.
However, be assured that reading YOU is sheer pleasure!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
Craiger
JUB Addict
Spike that was so intense and erotic. David truly is a great friend to have set the stage for such and exciting night. What started as a sense of relief between he and TJ, even though he may have desired it, led to an even better plan for Brian and TJ. David has always been the calm and compassionate one. However, we still will have to explore what his needs and desires really are. The main thing now is to save Danny from harm and reestablish the normality of all their lives. Thanks for an awesome chapter.
Craiger
Craiger
2008spike
Sex God
In the office on the second floor of Stop 'N Shop, Tommy drummed his fingers on the manager's desk. An assistant manager, who was acne-ridden and looked to Tommy as if he couldn't have been more than twelve, punched numbers into a calculator.
Tommy had been sitting there waiting for somebody to help him for nearly an hour, and his patience had worn thin.
"How much longer do you think?" Tommy asked the kid.
The kid, whose name was Harry or Ezekiel or something looked up from what he was doing and shrugged his shoulders.
"Dunno," he said. "Do you want me to go down and check again?"
Tommy sighed. The last time the kid had gone downstairs to the front of the store to check in his manager's whereabouts had been pointless. He had returned empty-handed, and without a clue when the manager was coming up. But what the fuck! It couldn't hurt, maybe the kid could hurry the manager along.
"Sure," Tommy answered. "Do you mind?"
The kid put down his pen and got up.
"Be right back," he said, and he walked out again
Tommy looked over at the screen of the desktop computer humming quietly on the manager's desk.
What if he just unplugged it from the wall and then just took the whole thing! Call it evidence in a possible crime. Tommy could figure out how to find the store videotape that he was looking for from the computer's hard drive back at his condo. Then he could get out of here, and tend again to the handcuffed teenager in his bedroom.
But then Tommy would not be absolutely certain that he'd gotten every copy of the tape that existed. And that was critical. If Tommy was going to finish cleaning up this whole mess he'd gotten himself mixed up with, he had to be sure that nobody else watched that video tape. He had to be sure that nobody else could identify Tommy in that group of guys who bashed Danny.
That kind of thing was not easily explained. And that kind of thing would definitely get in the way of Tommy's plan to be a chief one day. So he would wait a bit more for the night duty store manager.
Fuck! He drummed his fingers on the desk again, more loudly than before.
A few minutes later, the kid came back. This time his mission had been successful. He brought the store manager with him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting officer," the manager said. "There was problem downstairs with one of our delivery trucks."
The manager exhaled and plopped down into the seat directly adjacent to Tommy.
"Mmm," Tommy said, trying not to sound as frustrated as he was. "Officer Tom McKeon. Sorry to pull you away from your work so late on a Saturday night. This should only take a moment."
Tommy flashed his badge from the New Haven police department.
"Sunil Patel," the manager said, extending his hand and smiling. "Very happy to make your acquaintance. How can I help you officer?"
Tommy detected a tiny glint of recognition in the man's eye. He let it pass.
"Well, I am here investigating the assault incident that occurred last Saturday night."
"Oh my gosh. Such messy business. So sad. I hated to hear that the lad was kidnapped. And to have such a thing happen right here at Stop 'N Shop. Terrible, terrible!"
"Yes, terrible," Tommy replied. "We think we are close to apprehending the perpetrators however. We just need a little more help from you and your team here at Stop 'N Shop."
"Anything officer, happy to help. Such unhappy business."
The manager was looking at Tommy again. Tommy would need to move things along more quickly if he hoped to get out of there with what he wanted.
"Great, and on behalf of the city of New Haven, may I just say that the cooperation of you and the management team, as well as all of the other staff here at Stop 'N Shop has been exemplary. You are all outstanding citizens. Clearly, we would not be able to solve this horrific crime without your assistance."
Tommy knew he was blowing smoke, but the manager was smiling broadly, eating it up. So it seemed that his attempt at flattery had had the intended effect. From here on out, Tommy knew that Sunil Patel would be putty in his hands.
"You were here last Saturday night, is that correct? During the incident, I mean?" Tommy asked. He already knew that Sunil had been working that night. He had seen the man with his own eyes.
"Yes of course, I work every weekend night. Always the night shift. I am in training to be general manager of my own store. Working the night shift is a very important step toward this goal. They tell me that I am likely to get my own store very soon," Sunil answered.
"I am sure that you will. You seem like an outstanding manager."
"Thank you very much officer. Very kind."
Aware that the store manager was now examining Tommy's face even more closely, Tommy started to feel uncomfortable. He stood up, if only to get the guy to stop looking at him like that.
"Mr. Patel, I'd like to have a closer look at those videotapes recorded by the store security system last Saturday night," Tommy said, one hand over the bottom half of his face.
Mr. Patel smiled and stared intently at Tommy.
"Call me Sunil. Please."
"Thank you very kindly Sunil," Tommy said, his voice as syrupy sweet as he could manage.
Sunil turned his face toward the computer monitor on the desk.
"Yes officer, right away. You are in fact the second member of the New Haven Police Department to request to look at these tapes today. The day manager reported to me that a member of the police was already here. And that he had brought with him some family members of the..."
"Victim," Tommy offered.
Sunil smiled at his error.
"Yes, the victim. Family members of the...victim. You all are very busy on this case indeed. Very, very serious business indeed. That is a pleasure to my ears. I am sure you will get to the bottom of it quickly."
Tommy knew that his friend Brian was the police officer assigned to the Danny Leeman investigation. It was likely that Brian had been over to see the tapes at Stop 'N Shop earlier in the day today But why would Brian bring along members of the family of the Vic? That was weird and Tommy had no idea why he would do that.
The store manager tapped his password into the system and was rewarded with the happy chimes indicating that it was booting.
Tommy stepped away a little bit further and lined against a wall. He tapped his fingers on a filing cabinet during the boot. Sunil sat forward in his chair and began to hum. Tommy wanted to throttle him with his night stick, steal the computer and just get the fuck out of there.
The twelve year old kid entering numbers on the calculator looked up at Tommy, who was about ready to jump out of his skin. The kid looked first at Tommy's chest, then his arms, and then his eyes landed somewhere in the neighborhood of Tommy's crotch.
Well, at least the kid appreciated the finer things in life. Tommy knew he had a kick-ass body. For as much time as he spent in the gym, he deserved the looks he got. From girls, guys, whoever! Despite his foul mood, Tommy gave the kid a smile.
Over at the computer, the store manager seemed finally to have located the file he was looking for.
"Okay, we are just about ready here," the manager said. "Shall I play it for you?"
Tommy fished around in his pocket for a memory stick.
"No, just put it on here if you would," Tommy said. He handed Sunil the stick.
The store manager rubbed his chain with Tommy's stick and thought about that. Tommy's insides churned. He would have to clean the stick off with alcohol. He didn't want little bits of skin from Sunil's face on his memory stick.
"I would very much like to give you our tape on this USB device, however I am uncertain if I am authorized to do that," Sunil said.
Tommy exploded.
"Authorized. Of course you are authorized, this is official police business and I am a police officer with the New Have Police Department."
Sunil now rubbed the corner of his lip with Tommy's memory stick. Tommy watched him and wanted to retch.
"This is the official property of Stop 'N Shop supermarkets. I will have to check with my district manager. I am very sorry to inform you of this fact, officer."
"But it's late on a Saturday night, how will you reach your manager tonight. I need this tape on that stick tonight," Tommy shrieked.
Sunil raised a hand to try and calm Tommy down.
Tommy argued his case with the manager for a few more minutes. But unfortunately the store manager wouldn't budge from his position and they didn't get anywhere.
The manager insisted that he couldn't turn over the tape without authorization from a manager superior to him. And Tommy insisted that it was the right of the New Haven police to help himself to anything in the store that would help in solving the disappearance of Danny Leeman.
"But I don't understand, officer, why is not just possible for you to view the videotape right here? On my desktop computer?"
"Because it's not," Tommy said. "In fact, I'll need to delete the videotape from your hard drive while we conduct our investigation."
Sunil shook his head.
"That will not be possible, I'm very sorry officer."
"It must be done. We can't have any employees of this market interfering with evidence while we are conducting this investigation," Tommy said, his voice louder now.
"This is a Stop 'N Shop private tape. We need to keep it until our private security officer says it is okay for us to discard it." Sunil was now quite resolute in his objection.
Tommy stepped a few feet closer to Sunil. Quite a physical presence, Tommy was hoping that Sunil would just shut the fuck up and let him do what he needed to. There was no Plan B, he needed that god dammed tape! Unless of course Tommy was going to take both the store manager and the twelve year old kid at the calculator and beat them to a pulp.
The manager sat up more upright in his chair as Tommy approached. His right hand covered the mouse, preventing Tommy from touching it. The kid stopped pecking on his calculator, his red blotchy face frozen, his mouth open as he watched to see what would happen next.
"Threatening with your imposing physical presence me will not lead to anything worthwhile, as a management trainee of this company, I am aware of my rights. And I am aware of the rights of this story. I need to make a call if you are to receive what you are requesting." Sunil said with a firmness in his voice. Tommy continued inching forward.
"I don't give a flying fuck about the rights of this store! Get me the authorization you need," Tommy said through clenched teeth. "And get it right now! I want that videotape tonight, and I want the file deleted from your hard drive. This is an official police investigation. And you should not be interfering."
"Sir, I am trying to be helpful to you."
"So far, you have not been helpful. I would hate to have to provide that assessment to your district manager. Not with the life of our victim at stake. A life, by the way, that was probably changed forever right here at the Stop 'N Shop supermarket. I'm sure you don't want to be responsible for that do you Sunil? You want to help find this young man, right Sunil?"
Sunil had started to perspire. His forehead was covered in tiny droplets of sweat. Tommy wanted to gag again.
"Yes I do! I do want to help officer, but..."
"But what? It's your job, your precious little fucking promotion to store manager? Is that so god dammed important compared with the life of this your boy who was kidnapped?"
"But..." Sunil was stuttering now, his resolve breaking.
"There's not much time left, Sunil," Tommy said, pounding away at the poor man's emotions now. "Let's hope that it's just not too late already!"
"I don't want to interfere with your job officer," Sunil pleaded. "I just need to make a phone call."
"Good," Tommy said. He picked up the receiver from the desk phone and handed it to Sunil. Tommy was standing directly over the terrified manager now, the pants of his police uniform in contact with Sunil's leg.
"Then make it. Right now. Make the call."
Sunil looked up at an old yellowed page that was taped to the wall. He dialed.
Tommy waited, tapping his fingers on the desk beside the manager. Tommy could hear the ringing of the phone even though Sunil had the receiver against his head.
There was no answer. Tommy thought that Plan B, where he pounded Sunil's head into the desk, was becoming increasingly more likely.
**
Paolo parked his car in front of a fire hydrant in downtown Boston and waited for Jeremy M to finish with his massage. He opened his phone and began to read through some of his email. As an accountant, most of his work had to be done in the office, with full access to the applications on his Mac, but maybe he could skim a little bit off the surface late on a Saturday night. If everything went as planned, he and Jeremy M would have a whole lot of time to read their email for the rest of the weekend.
After only a couple minutes, Jeremy M came up to the car and knocked on the window lightly. Paolo smiled. Such a hot boy, why on earth was he still single?
Paolo unlocked the doors and Jeremy M opened the back door to toss his bag inside. He then opened up the front door and climbed inside.
"Hey handsome," Jeremy M said, beaming. "What a nice treat this is! Twice in one day!"
Paolo leaned across the console and kissed him on the mouth.
"Mmm, you taste great," Paolo said, licking his lips.
Jeremy M laughed.
"Right, probably like of lot of biker sweat with massage oil mixed in."
Paolo thought for a moment.
"With just a hint of Brazilian sperm mixed in."
Now Jeremy M had to think.
"Wait, I thought you came in my ass. Did you cum in my mouth too? I can't remember anymore, it's been a really long day."
Paolo pulled Jeremy M's face toward him and placed his tongue inside his mouth.
"Hmm, maybe you're right, no sperm," Paolo agreed.
Jeremy M put his palm on Paolo's thigh.
"But you could cum in my mouth if you want," Jeremy M teased. "Once we get on the road."
"I want," Paolo said.
"Good, then drive. I'm starved."
Paolo pulled away from the curb. Jeremy M was sound asleep in his seat before they hit the Mass Pike.
Two hours later, Jeremy M woke up.
For a moment, he had no idea where he was. He looked over at Paolo, the silhouette of his face lit by the dashboard lights. Then he remembered . This was a road trip to New Haven. It was probably still Saturday night. He stretched his arms over his head. Fortunately he was short enough that he could extend his arms completely and touch the inside roof of the car. It felt good to bend his wrists back. He yawned.
"That must have felt good," Paolo said, grinning.
Jeremy M looked at him. He wiped his mouth with his forearm. He suddenly had the thought that his breath might be bad following his nap. He covered his mouth and exhaled to check.
Hard to say.
"How long did I sleep?"
Paolo laughed. "The whole way. We're like five minutes away from the house."
"Really? I'm sorry."
Jeremy M put a hand on Paolo's thigh again, the edge of his palm against Paolo's zipper.
"It's okay, you probably needed it," Paolo said. He shifted slightly in his seat so that Jeremy M's hand was cupping his cock and balls.
Jeremy M smiled and applied a little downward pressure. Paolo's dick, already large on even his worst days, pushed back.
"Wow," Jeremy M said. "I can't believe I had this up my butt just this morning."
Jeremy M looked down at himself. His pants were open and his underwear had been pushed downward. His own dick peeked out from under the waistband and pointed toward Paolo.
Paolo saw him notice and smiled.
"Wait! What happened?"
Paolo didn't answer so Jeremy M put his right hand into his briefs to feel what he could. It was a little sticky.
Jeremy M smiled back.
"Did you actually...I mean, did you jack me off? While you were driving?"
Paolo nodded yes. He placed his right palm under Jeremy M's nose. The bleachy cum smell of his own spunk was obvious. He laughed out loud. Jeremy M lifted up his own underwear to inspect himself more closely.
"It's a good thing we didn't crash."
Jeremy M nodded.
"You were quick," Paolo noted.
"And I didn't even wake up?"
"Nope."
"Unbelievable. Did I cum very much? It's been kind of a crazy day, I think I've gotten off like three times already."
Jeremy M rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. Absently he rubbed the top of his underwear, just a force of habit. One eye on the road, Paolo watched his friend closely with the other one.
"I really need food, I haven't eaten," Jeremy M said.
"Okay, like what?"
"Well, dinner would be good. And lunch too. I seemed to have missed both of those."
"I don't think there's not much open this late," Paolo said. "Do you want to go to a bar? We could get wings or something."
"No! Please no! How about just a yogurt or an apple or something?" Jeremy M asked. He moved his hand from his dick up to his stomach and made a circle.
"Market?" How about we find a supermarket that's open?" Paolo suggested.
"Yes!" Jeremy M cried out enthusiastically. He leaned over and grabbed Paolo's bicep with both hands. "Oreos!"
"Oreos? Really?"
"Yes! Oreos! My favorite!"
"Really? I am a little surprised. Aren't you like a fitness geek? How is it that you love Oreos?"
Jeremy M drew back and looked at Paolo as if he were from another planet.
"You're kidding right? How could anybody not like Oreos? They are amazing!"
"Okay then, we'll get you some Oreos then."
"Double stuffed!" Jeremy M said with a mischievous grin.
Paolo laughed.
"Of course it would have to be double stuffed."
They both giggled.
"So there's a Stop 'N Shop on the way to our house. I'm pretty sure they are open late on Saturday night. We can stop there." Paolo said. He merged onto the off ramp.
"Yay! I am so starving! I may finish them off before we even get back into the car!" Jeremy M said.
Paolo stopped at the light at the bottom of the exit. Then he made a left turn to so that he could get Jeremy M his Oreos at the Stop 'N Shop.
**
Sunil Patel put the telephone receiver back into its cradle very slowly.
"Sorry chief, no answer," he said.
Tommy seethed.
"Do you have his cell phone or something?" Tommy asked. "I need to take these files off the premises tonight!"
"Officer, I will check. As you can clearly see, I am trying to be most cooperative with you."
Tommy grunted. Sunil opened up the desk drawer in front of him and began to move papers around. The twelve year old kid on the calculator stood up.
"I think I'll go check on the front," he said.
Neither Sunil or Tommy even bothered to look his way. He left the room. Tommy heard the kid's footsteps fade away as he walked toward the main part of the store. Tommy moved closer to Sunil to see what he was doing in the drawer.
"I must admit that I am quite surprised by this reaction from the New Haven Police Department," Sunil said while he scanned scraps of paper in the drawer. "I am helping you all I can. I don't understand why you cannot simply view the videotape here in the store."
Tommy glared at the store manager.
"Because I can't," Tommy said, gritting his teeth.
Finally, Sunil found what he was looking for. He lifted up a note card with a phone number written in blue ink on it.
"See officer, just have a little faith. I knew it was here somewhere."
"Dial it," Tommy commanded.
Sunil did as he was told. Then he waited for the district manager to answer.
Tommy drummed his fingertips on the arm rest of Sunil's chair. His crotch was less than an inch away from the manager's elbow. Tommy became aware of a faint spicy smell. Without thinking he sniffed his own upper arm, close to the armpit. Sunil was staring straight ahead and appeared not to notice.
"Hello?"
Tommy breathed in deeply, secretly relieved he wouldn't have to beat the shit out of the store manager to get what he needed.
"Yes, Mr. Peterman, this is Mr. Sunil Patel. Night manager, store 238, New Haven, Connecticut."
Tommy wondered if Mr. Peterman had ever before even met Mr. Patel. He doubted it. He wondered if Patel would ever make it to store manager. He doubted that too. One didn't get ahead by hassling your district manager on a matter of simple store protocol late on a Saturday night.
"Yes, Mr. Peterman, thank you very much. I am ever so sorry for having to bother you so late at night."
Tommy watched Sunil's forehead break out into tiny droplets of sweat once again. Gross! The guy was just sitting in a chair talking on the phone and he was perspiring. Tommy wondered what would happen to him if he had to run a ten miler along the sound, like he had done just this morning.
"Well you see, Mr. Peterman, it's about the incident that occurred here at the store last weekend. You have read the report, I am certain, about the assault?"
Without thinking, the zipper of Tommy's pants brushed the skin on the side of Sunil's elbow. Sunil glanced up, then moved his elbow away slightly.
"Yes, I know. Terrible business, you're so right."
Tommy made a circular spinning motion with his hands. He wanted the store manager to get to the point already. While Tommy rocked back and forth against the arm rest of Sunil's chair, Sunil explained the situation to his district manager in excruciating detail. Three separate times, Tommy rolled his eyes and made the same circular motion with his hands.
There was a pause while Sunil listened to something that the district manager was saying.
"Oh. I see," Sunil said.
"What?" Tommy asked. "What did he say?"
Sunil raised a hand to quiet Tommy.
"Yes he is here, Mr. Peterman. He is dressed in his police uniform. And yes, I did see his badge. It all looks very official to me."
Tommy grabbed for the telephone receiver. "Let me talk to the guy already," Tommy said.
"No, he didn't have that," Sunil said, his eyes looking up at Tommy. "I'm quite certain."
"Didn't have what?" Tommy asked.
"Okay, I'll ask him," Sunil said into the phone. He put the phone receiver into his palm and spoke quietly to Tommy.
"Mr. Peterman would like to know if you have a judge's order, authorizing you to remove the security tapes from the premises."
Tommy blew his stack. Of course he didn't have a judge's order, no judge would grant such a request so he hadn't even asked one! Tommy grabbed the phone out of Sunil's hand.
"What the hell are you talking about? A judge's order? I'm here trying to investigate a missing person! This particular missing person had the crap beaten out of him right here in this supermarket! You have tapes that will assist the New Haven Police Department in finding out who carried out this crime. You have tapes that will help us to locate the perpetrators of this crime! And if we can locate these fucking shitheads, maybe we can god dammed save this young student's life!"
Sunil backed away from the desk. He had about as much as he could take of Officer Tommy McKeon for one evening.
"You finish talking, I'm going downstairs to check on my store."
Tommy continued yelling into the phone for the next five minutes. In the end, he got what he wanted. Almost. He could make a copy of the videotape and take it back to police headquarters, but he could not erase the store's copy from their hard drive. That was going to require either a judge's order, or at the very least some approval from a manager higher up than Mr. Peterman. And that was not going to be able to happen tonight.
He thanked Peterman with as much kindness as he could summon and hung up the phone gently.
Not ideal, but maybe Tommy could figure something else out. He had to get that entire tape erased off of the store's computer hard drive. As he hung up the phone, he finally realized that the store manager had left. He was alone in the office.
Tommy had the memory stick. He looked at the screen, flashing some strange color pattern as a screen saver. If he could copy the videotape and 'accidentally' erase the hard drive as he did so, he might just be able to chalk that up to his lousy tech skills. That was believable enough. He was a jock, not a computer nerd.
Tommy stuck his stick into a USB port on the side of the computer and jiggled the mouse.
'Please, let there NOT be a password requirement that kicked in while he and Sunil had been on the phone. Please!'
"Shit!" Tommy cried out when the password request window lit up the computer monitor.
He sat back in the office chair and blew air up at the ceiling. He was going to need help from somebody on staff. Tommy stared at the screen and considered his next move. Maybe it was just a simple password that all the management staff could remember easily?
Stop 'N Shop? No way. Too complicated with the apostrophe.
Food? Nope. Too short.
New Haven? Possibly, but did it have caps?
Douche bags? Hmm, that could be the password. At least that would fit the staff quite nicely, Tommy told himself.
The door opened and in walked Harry or Ezekiel or whatever his name was.
Tommy leaned backward and looked over his shoulder, trying to keep the desperation out of his face. The twelve year old kid with the acne closed the door behind him and walked over to the desk, very close to Tommy. He set a paper shopping bag on the desk beside Tommy.
"Here," the kid said. I thought you could use one of these."
Tommy scowled. Then his curiosity got the better of him and he looked inside the paper bag. There was a six-pack of beer inside.
"Seemed to me like you were a little stressed out," he added. "These should help." He reached into the bag, pulled two cans out, and popped the top of one.
"Wait, how old are you?" Tommy asked.
"Twenty five." He took a long swig from his beer and glared at Tommy.
"Gimme a fucking break! Show me some I.D."
The kid hesitated, then took another long swallow. Tommy didn't move.
"Okay, I'm 19. I'll be 20 next May. I just look young for my age."
Tommy cracked up. It was true, the kid looked to Tommy like he couldn't be older than 12 or 13, certainly not much past puberty.
"Yeah, I'll say you look young. And May is practically a year from now. You're just a punk kid."
The kid grunted and finished off most of the rest of his beer.
"I am not just a punk kid. I am the assistant night manager at Stop 'N Shop. On the weekends at least."
"Hooray," Tommy said, mocking him. "But you still look like a punk kid."
The kid finished his beer while Tommy watched him. After he put down the empty can, he looked over at the computer screen. The little window asking for the password was now flashing.
Tommy reached for a beer from the sixer.
"What the hell?" Tommy said to the ceiling. "I'm drinking with a fucking adolescent."
"I'm 19. Going on 20. Stop 'n Shop does not hire adolescents."
This time Tommy grunted, his lips still attached to the metal lip of his beer.
"I'd still like to see some I.D. Drinking age in this state is 21," Tommy said.
"Arrest me."
Tommy smiled. The kid wouldn't last 20 minutes in the holding tank they had back at the station. Tommy took another gulp of beer. Despite his could mood, the beer was already having its intended effect. He was starting to relax a tiny bit.
The kid looked closely at Tommy's uniform. Tommy was proud of how he looked in it, he'd been told as much on quite a few occasions.
"Do you want to be a cop some day?" Tommy asked.
"What? So I can shoot people? No fucking way."
Tommy smiled. He thought about trying to explain that cops didn't really shoot people. In fact, Tommy had never once even fired his gun. But what was the point? Tonight was not supposed to be about recruiting an adolescent to join the force.
Tommy scanned the boy from head to toe. He had on the usual supermarket garb. Dark slacks, a white dress shirt, and a green apron. Tommy thought to himself that the kid was probably packing a pretty killer body underneath.
"I swim," the kid said.
"What?"
"I said that I swim. I saw you checking me out. That's where I get this body. I used to do triathlons, my whole family did. But now I just swim. A few miles every day. And I'm fast too."
"I wasn't checking you out," Tommy objected.
"Yes you were, you just did, just now. You've been thinking of me as just a stupid little teenager, but then you finally noticed. I'm fully grown. And I've got a pretty fucking great body. Cause I swim."
"I wasn't...." Tommy started to say again. But then he stopped. What was the use?
"It's just my stupid acne. I can't really help that. That's what makes me look young. But like I said..."
"You're 19." Tommy interrupted.
The kid smiled.
"That's right. See? You're learning. I'm 19, I swim, and I'm the assistant night manager at the New Haven Stop 'N Shop."
"On the weekends." Tommy added.
The kid nodded. Tommy turned his attention back to the screen.
"So, now that you've told me all about yourself, how about you get me into this fucking computer so that I can download this videotape that I need."
"Maybe I will," the kid taunted him.
Tommy took a sip of beer and glanced over at him again.
"Maybe I will fucking kick your ass all over this office, you punk? How about that Mr. Weekend Assistant Manager?"
The kid shrugged.
"You won't. You need the password. You need my help."
Tommy lunged out of the chair and stood up. He put his face up very close to the kids face. Tommy could smell the beer on his breath. And something faintly antiseptic on the skin of the kids face.
The kid stood his ground. Tommy blinked and took a breath. Intimidation was not going to work here.
"What's your name, Mr. Assistant Manager?"
The kid smiled.
"I told you before when you came into the office, but you were not paying any attention. I was just a little punk kid who you were never going to see again, so it didn't really matter if you knew my name."
Tommy sighed and stepped back from the kid. He looked at the computer screen. It was getting late. He needed the stupid password.
"I'm sorry," Tommy said. "You're right, that was not very nice of me. Now what's your name again please?"
The kid smiled. He opened another beer and took another long drink. Tommy waited. He tried very hard not to tap his fingers against the desk.
"It's Carey," the kid said. "Carey M."
Carey? Where the heck had Tommy gotten Ezekiel from?
"Okay Carey M, what's the god dammed password for this computer?"
"We're not supposed to tell anyone," Carey M said smugly. "How about if I just type it in for you?"
Tommy took a long slow, deep breath. Then he focused his eyes on Carey M's green apron.
How about if I wrap your fucking apron around your neck and hang you from the light fixture until your eyes bulge out of your skull? Tommy made himself calm down. Again.
"Okay, go ahead, type it in. I will look away," Tommy said, grinning as best he could through his teeth.
Carey M leaned in to type in the password. Before he did, he paused, thinking.
"Hmm, what's in all this for me?" he asked, his eyes in the center of Tommy's body.
"What's in it for you? How about your god dammed civic fucking duty?"
"Tisk, tisk. Such language officer. Nope, I'm not interested in civic duty. Not here in New Haven at least."
Tommy was beside himself. When would this nightmare ever end?
"Twenty bucks. I've got twenty bucks in my pocket, you want that?"
Carey M laughed out loud.
"You're joking right? You think that twenty dollars is enough for me to let you have what you want off of this computer, even though my store manager and my district manager says that you can't have it?"
Tommy rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Um, I'm guessing that the answer to that question is no?" Tommy asked sheepishly.
"You're right, officer. I don't want your twenty dollars, don't insult me."
"Then what?"
Carey M stared directly into Tommy's eyes. Then he moved them quickly down to Tommy's mid section. Then back again to Tommy's eyes.
"Seriously?" Tommy asked, incredulous. "You want to see my penis? My cock?"
A thin smile crossed Carey M's face. He shook his head, then repeated the same move as before with his eyes.
"Oh!" Tommy said, suddenly realizing that the kid was not really such a kid at all. "You don't want to just see my cock, you want to suck my cock!"
Carey M nodded.
"Lock the door," Carey M commanded.
Seconds later, Tommy got up out of the chair. He walked over and locked the officer door.
At the New Haven Police Department, he had frequently been praised for how well he followed orders. And if that was all that it was going to take to get the password to this computer, collect his videotape and erase the hard drive, then he was going to follow orders again.
This time he might even like it.
**
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, we're going to Stop 'N Shop?" Jeremy M asked.
Paolo smiled at his cute passenger. Jeremy M was buttoning his pants.
"Um, I don't think we have a lot of choice in the matter. It's late, not too many places are open. So if you want those Oreos..."
Jeremy M sniffed his own hand. It smelled like sex to him. That was weird, he hadn't even really had sex. Paolo did. Jeremy M furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed Paolo's hand. He sniffed it. Sure enough, Paolo's hand smelled like sex too. That made more sense.
"No, no, it's not that at all. Stop 'N Shop is totally fine. It's just that, well, it's just that I think my younger brother works there, that's all. And I didn't get a chance to call him to tell him that I'm in town."
"You have a younger brother?" Paolo asked. "And he lives here in New Haven? Why am I only finding out about this now?"
Jeremy M smiled.
"You never asked, his name is Carey," Jeremy M said.
"Does he look anything like you? We may just have to take. him home with us and have a ménage 'a Jeremy and Carey."
"That's completely disgusting. And it's not gonna happen," Jeremy M said flatly.
"Damn!"
"Besides, Carey is just sort of still growing up. He's 19, and still trying to figure things out. We used to do triathlons together. But he stopped, and we've grown apart a little bit. Now he just swims."
"So, has he figured out if he's gay or not?" Paolo asked. "I'm happy to help out, if he needs any guidance in that department."
"You're demented!"
"Yes I am. But is your brother gay?"
Jeremy M nodded.
"Yup, and he's a top."
"Hmm. Not for me. But how convenient for someone else I know," Paolo teased. "I'll have to pawn him off on Donnie. I'm keeping you for myself."
Paolo gave Jeremy M's left butt cheek a squeeze as they pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket. Jeremy M looked out the car window to the inside of Stop 'N Shop. Was his brother on duty tonight? It would be a really nice surprise to see him.
**
Tommy looked at the little head bobbing up and down between his legs. When he walked into the store a few hours earlier, he hadn't had any intention of receiving a blow job, but well, what the fuck!
He didn't care if the guy was 19 but looked like he was twelve. He gave some really rocking head.
With his pants around his ankles, and the reddish brown hair of Carey M moving rhythmically over his crotch, Tommy watched the videotape file slowly move over to the memory stick that he had inserted into the computer. He wondered which would happen first. Would the file finish or would he? Given the slow speed of the old computer, Tommy was sure he'd be the first to finish.
Tommy jiggled the mouse to kill the screen saver. Carey M came up for air.
"What?" Carey M asked, his mouth moist with spit and Tommy's juice.
"No, no, nothing," Tommy said. "I just moved the mouse a little. Keep going. This is fucking great!"
Carey M smiled.
"Thanks, you've got a great dick. I love foreskin!" He held it in one fist like an awarded just one for Tommy to see.
"Good. I'm keeping it," Tommy replied.
Carey M went back to work on Tommy's uncut cock. Tommy went back to watching the computer.
The phone rang. It scared them both out of their wits. Carey M took his lips off of Tommy's hard-on.
"Shit," Carey M said. "It's probably Sunil. From downstairs."
Tommy was definitely not ready for Carey M to stop. He was so close.
"Should I answer it?" Tommy asked.
Carey M eased himself up from the floor.
"No. Better not. I'll get it," Carey M sighed.
Tommy's dick bounced lightly between his thighs. It was thin, curved at the base, and darker red near the top. And just this moment, it was glistening with the saliva from the assistant store manager's mouth.
Carey M answered the phone. Tommy strained his ears to hear what was being said on the other end of the line.
"You're kidding? Really?" He used the edge of his green apron to wipe a drop of spittle from the corner of his mouth.
"What?" Tommy mouthed silently.
"Wow! That's so cool. Okay then, tell them I'll be right down."
"What?" Tommy asked again, this time out loud as Carey M hung up the phone.
"My brother is here. He's downstairs right now," he said.
"Your brother?" Tommy was confused.
Carey M wiped his forearm across his face, ran his fingers through his hair and tried straightening his apron.
"Yeah. Crazy right? He lives in Boston. I have no idea what he's doing here."
At the same moment, both of them noticed Tommy's cock, pointing upward from the base of the chair. It began to wilt.
"What about?" Tommy asked, nodding his head toward his penis.
"Well, I'm sorry. I guess I can't finish you off right this second. We can work something out later."
"Later? When later?"
" I don't know officer," Carey M said. "Just later, we'll figure it out."
Tommy took a deep breath. This was fucking crazy!
"But consider your debt paid," Carey M said. "I pretty much got what I wanted. All except the creamy topping at the end."
Despite himself, Tommy chuckled.
As Tommy pulled his pants up over his tumescent dick, a little ding from the computer signaled that the file had finished loading. Tommy deleted the only copy from the hard drive with one click. He stood up and adjusted his pants. Then he watched as Carey M unlocked the office door so that they could both go downstairs.
Tommy had been sitting there waiting for somebody to help him for nearly an hour, and his patience had worn thin.
"How much longer do you think?" Tommy asked the kid.
The kid, whose name was Harry or Ezekiel or something looked up from what he was doing and shrugged his shoulders.
"Dunno," he said. "Do you want me to go down and check again?"
Tommy sighed. The last time the kid had gone downstairs to the front of the store to check in his manager's whereabouts had been pointless. He had returned empty-handed, and without a clue when the manager was coming up. But what the fuck! It couldn't hurt, maybe the kid could hurry the manager along.
"Sure," Tommy answered. "Do you mind?"
The kid put down his pen and got up.
"Be right back," he said, and he walked out again
Tommy looked over at the screen of the desktop computer humming quietly on the manager's desk.
What if he just unplugged it from the wall and then just took the whole thing! Call it evidence in a possible crime. Tommy could figure out how to find the store videotape that he was looking for from the computer's hard drive back at his condo. Then he could get out of here, and tend again to the handcuffed teenager in his bedroom.
But then Tommy would not be absolutely certain that he'd gotten every copy of the tape that existed. And that was critical. If Tommy was going to finish cleaning up this whole mess he'd gotten himself mixed up with, he had to be sure that nobody else watched that video tape. He had to be sure that nobody else could identify Tommy in that group of guys who bashed Danny.
That kind of thing was not easily explained. And that kind of thing would definitely get in the way of Tommy's plan to be a chief one day. So he would wait a bit more for the night duty store manager.
Fuck! He drummed his fingers on the desk again, more loudly than before.
A few minutes later, the kid came back. This time his mission had been successful. He brought the store manager with him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting officer," the manager said. "There was problem downstairs with one of our delivery trucks."
The manager exhaled and plopped down into the seat directly adjacent to Tommy.
"Mmm," Tommy said, trying not to sound as frustrated as he was. "Officer Tom McKeon. Sorry to pull you away from your work so late on a Saturday night. This should only take a moment."
Tommy flashed his badge from the New Haven police department.
"Sunil Patel," the manager said, extending his hand and smiling. "Very happy to make your acquaintance. How can I help you officer?"
Tommy detected a tiny glint of recognition in the man's eye. He let it pass.
"Well, I am here investigating the assault incident that occurred last Saturday night."
"Oh my gosh. Such messy business. So sad. I hated to hear that the lad was kidnapped. And to have such a thing happen right here at Stop 'N Shop. Terrible, terrible!"
"Yes, terrible," Tommy replied. "We think we are close to apprehending the perpetrators however. We just need a little more help from you and your team here at Stop 'N Shop."
"Anything officer, happy to help. Such unhappy business."
The manager was looking at Tommy again. Tommy would need to move things along more quickly if he hoped to get out of there with what he wanted.
"Great, and on behalf of the city of New Haven, may I just say that the cooperation of you and the management team, as well as all of the other staff here at Stop 'N Shop has been exemplary. You are all outstanding citizens. Clearly, we would not be able to solve this horrific crime without your assistance."
Tommy knew he was blowing smoke, but the manager was smiling broadly, eating it up. So it seemed that his attempt at flattery had had the intended effect. From here on out, Tommy knew that Sunil Patel would be putty in his hands.
"You were here last Saturday night, is that correct? During the incident, I mean?" Tommy asked. He already knew that Sunil had been working that night. He had seen the man with his own eyes.
"Yes of course, I work every weekend night. Always the night shift. I am in training to be general manager of my own store. Working the night shift is a very important step toward this goal. They tell me that I am likely to get my own store very soon," Sunil answered.
"I am sure that you will. You seem like an outstanding manager."
"Thank you very much officer. Very kind."
Aware that the store manager was now examining Tommy's face even more closely, Tommy started to feel uncomfortable. He stood up, if only to get the guy to stop looking at him like that.
"Mr. Patel, I'd like to have a closer look at those videotapes recorded by the store security system last Saturday night," Tommy said, one hand over the bottom half of his face.
Mr. Patel smiled and stared intently at Tommy.
"Call me Sunil. Please."
"Thank you very kindly Sunil," Tommy said, his voice as syrupy sweet as he could manage.
Sunil turned his face toward the computer monitor on the desk.
"Yes officer, right away. You are in fact the second member of the New Haven Police Department to request to look at these tapes today. The day manager reported to me that a member of the police was already here. And that he had brought with him some family members of the..."
"Victim," Tommy offered.
Sunil smiled at his error.
"Yes, the victim. Family members of the...victim. You all are very busy on this case indeed. Very, very serious business indeed. That is a pleasure to my ears. I am sure you will get to the bottom of it quickly."
Tommy knew that his friend Brian was the police officer assigned to the Danny Leeman investigation. It was likely that Brian had been over to see the tapes at Stop 'N Shop earlier in the day today But why would Brian bring along members of the family of the Vic? That was weird and Tommy had no idea why he would do that.
The store manager tapped his password into the system and was rewarded with the happy chimes indicating that it was booting.
Tommy stepped away a little bit further and lined against a wall. He tapped his fingers on a filing cabinet during the boot. Sunil sat forward in his chair and began to hum. Tommy wanted to throttle him with his night stick, steal the computer and just get the fuck out of there.
The twelve year old kid entering numbers on the calculator looked up at Tommy, who was about ready to jump out of his skin. The kid looked first at Tommy's chest, then his arms, and then his eyes landed somewhere in the neighborhood of Tommy's crotch.
Well, at least the kid appreciated the finer things in life. Tommy knew he had a kick-ass body. For as much time as he spent in the gym, he deserved the looks he got. From girls, guys, whoever! Despite his foul mood, Tommy gave the kid a smile.
Over at the computer, the store manager seemed finally to have located the file he was looking for.
"Okay, we are just about ready here," the manager said. "Shall I play it for you?"
Tommy fished around in his pocket for a memory stick.
"No, just put it on here if you would," Tommy said. He handed Sunil the stick.
The store manager rubbed his chain with Tommy's stick and thought about that. Tommy's insides churned. He would have to clean the stick off with alcohol. He didn't want little bits of skin from Sunil's face on his memory stick.
"I would very much like to give you our tape on this USB device, however I am uncertain if I am authorized to do that," Sunil said.
Tommy exploded.
"Authorized. Of course you are authorized, this is official police business and I am a police officer with the New Have Police Department."
Sunil now rubbed the corner of his lip with Tommy's memory stick. Tommy watched him and wanted to retch.
"This is the official property of Stop 'N Shop supermarkets. I will have to check with my district manager. I am very sorry to inform you of this fact, officer."
"But it's late on a Saturday night, how will you reach your manager tonight. I need this tape on that stick tonight," Tommy shrieked.
Sunil raised a hand to try and calm Tommy down.
Tommy argued his case with the manager for a few more minutes. But unfortunately the store manager wouldn't budge from his position and they didn't get anywhere.
The manager insisted that he couldn't turn over the tape without authorization from a manager superior to him. And Tommy insisted that it was the right of the New Haven police to help himself to anything in the store that would help in solving the disappearance of Danny Leeman.
"But I don't understand, officer, why is not just possible for you to view the videotape right here? On my desktop computer?"
"Because it's not," Tommy said. "In fact, I'll need to delete the videotape from your hard drive while we conduct our investigation."
Sunil shook his head.
"That will not be possible, I'm very sorry officer."
"It must be done. We can't have any employees of this market interfering with evidence while we are conducting this investigation," Tommy said, his voice louder now.
"This is a Stop 'N Shop private tape. We need to keep it until our private security officer says it is okay for us to discard it." Sunil was now quite resolute in his objection.
Tommy stepped a few feet closer to Sunil. Quite a physical presence, Tommy was hoping that Sunil would just shut the fuck up and let him do what he needed to. There was no Plan B, he needed that god dammed tape! Unless of course Tommy was going to take both the store manager and the twelve year old kid at the calculator and beat them to a pulp.
The manager sat up more upright in his chair as Tommy approached. His right hand covered the mouse, preventing Tommy from touching it. The kid stopped pecking on his calculator, his red blotchy face frozen, his mouth open as he watched to see what would happen next.
"Threatening with your imposing physical presence me will not lead to anything worthwhile, as a management trainee of this company, I am aware of my rights. And I am aware of the rights of this story. I need to make a call if you are to receive what you are requesting." Sunil said with a firmness in his voice. Tommy continued inching forward.
"I don't give a flying fuck about the rights of this store! Get me the authorization you need," Tommy said through clenched teeth. "And get it right now! I want that videotape tonight, and I want the file deleted from your hard drive. This is an official police investigation. And you should not be interfering."
"Sir, I am trying to be helpful to you."
"So far, you have not been helpful. I would hate to have to provide that assessment to your district manager. Not with the life of our victim at stake. A life, by the way, that was probably changed forever right here at the Stop 'N Shop supermarket. I'm sure you don't want to be responsible for that do you Sunil? You want to help find this young man, right Sunil?"
Sunil had started to perspire. His forehead was covered in tiny droplets of sweat. Tommy wanted to gag again.
"Yes I do! I do want to help officer, but..."
"But what? It's your job, your precious little fucking promotion to store manager? Is that so god dammed important compared with the life of this your boy who was kidnapped?"
"But..." Sunil was stuttering now, his resolve breaking.
"There's not much time left, Sunil," Tommy said, pounding away at the poor man's emotions now. "Let's hope that it's just not too late already!"
"I don't want to interfere with your job officer," Sunil pleaded. "I just need to make a phone call."
"Good," Tommy said. He picked up the receiver from the desk phone and handed it to Sunil. Tommy was standing directly over the terrified manager now, the pants of his police uniform in contact with Sunil's leg.
"Then make it. Right now. Make the call."
Sunil looked up at an old yellowed page that was taped to the wall. He dialed.
Tommy waited, tapping his fingers on the desk beside the manager. Tommy could hear the ringing of the phone even though Sunil had the receiver against his head.
There was no answer. Tommy thought that Plan B, where he pounded Sunil's head into the desk, was becoming increasingly more likely.
**
Paolo parked his car in front of a fire hydrant in downtown Boston and waited for Jeremy M to finish with his massage. He opened his phone and began to read through some of his email. As an accountant, most of his work had to be done in the office, with full access to the applications on his Mac, but maybe he could skim a little bit off the surface late on a Saturday night. If everything went as planned, he and Jeremy M would have a whole lot of time to read their email for the rest of the weekend.
After only a couple minutes, Jeremy M came up to the car and knocked on the window lightly. Paolo smiled. Such a hot boy, why on earth was he still single?
Paolo unlocked the doors and Jeremy M opened the back door to toss his bag inside. He then opened up the front door and climbed inside.
"Hey handsome," Jeremy M said, beaming. "What a nice treat this is! Twice in one day!"
Paolo leaned across the console and kissed him on the mouth.
"Mmm, you taste great," Paolo said, licking his lips.
Jeremy M laughed.
"Right, probably like of lot of biker sweat with massage oil mixed in."
Paolo thought for a moment.
"With just a hint of Brazilian sperm mixed in."
Now Jeremy M had to think.
"Wait, I thought you came in my ass. Did you cum in my mouth too? I can't remember anymore, it's been a really long day."
Paolo pulled Jeremy M's face toward him and placed his tongue inside his mouth.
"Hmm, maybe you're right, no sperm," Paolo agreed.
Jeremy M put his palm on Paolo's thigh.
"But you could cum in my mouth if you want," Jeremy M teased. "Once we get on the road."
"I want," Paolo said.
"Good, then drive. I'm starved."
Paolo pulled away from the curb. Jeremy M was sound asleep in his seat before they hit the Mass Pike.
Two hours later, Jeremy M woke up.
For a moment, he had no idea where he was. He looked over at Paolo, the silhouette of his face lit by the dashboard lights. Then he remembered . This was a road trip to New Haven. It was probably still Saturday night. He stretched his arms over his head. Fortunately he was short enough that he could extend his arms completely and touch the inside roof of the car. It felt good to bend his wrists back. He yawned.
"That must have felt good," Paolo said, grinning.
Jeremy M looked at him. He wiped his mouth with his forearm. He suddenly had the thought that his breath might be bad following his nap. He covered his mouth and exhaled to check.
Hard to say.
"How long did I sleep?"
Paolo laughed. "The whole way. We're like five minutes away from the house."
"Really? I'm sorry."
Jeremy M put a hand on Paolo's thigh again, the edge of his palm against Paolo's zipper.
"It's okay, you probably needed it," Paolo said. He shifted slightly in his seat so that Jeremy M's hand was cupping his cock and balls.
Jeremy M smiled and applied a little downward pressure. Paolo's dick, already large on even his worst days, pushed back.
"Wow," Jeremy M said. "I can't believe I had this up my butt just this morning."
Jeremy M looked down at himself. His pants were open and his underwear had been pushed downward. His own dick peeked out from under the waistband and pointed toward Paolo.
Paolo saw him notice and smiled.
"Wait! What happened?"
Paolo didn't answer so Jeremy M put his right hand into his briefs to feel what he could. It was a little sticky.
Jeremy M smiled back.
"Did you actually...I mean, did you jack me off? While you were driving?"
Paolo nodded yes. He placed his right palm under Jeremy M's nose. The bleachy cum smell of his own spunk was obvious. He laughed out loud. Jeremy M lifted up his own underwear to inspect himself more closely.
"It's a good thing we didn't crash."
Jeremy M nodded.
"You were quick," Paolo noted.
"And I didn't even wake up?"
"Nope."
"Unbelievable. Did I cum very much? It's been kind of a crazy day, I think I've gotten off like three times already."
Jeremy M rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. Absently he rubbed the top of his underwear, just a force of habit. One eye on the road, Paolo watched his friend closely with the other one.
"I really need food, I haven't eaten," Jeremy M said.
"Okay, like what?"
"Well, dinner would be good. And lunch too. I seemed to have missed both of those."
"I don't think there's not much open this late," Paolo said. "Do you want to go to a bar? We could get wings or something."
"No! Please no! How about just a yogurt or an apple or something?" Jeremy M asked. He moved his hand from his dick up to his stomach and made a circle.
"Market?" How about we find a supermarket that's open?" Paolo suggested.
"Yes!" Jeremy M cried out enthusiastically. He leaned over and grabbed Paolo's bicep with both hands. "Oreos!"
"Oreos? Really?"
"Yes! Oreos! My favorite!"
"Really? I am a little surprised. Aren't you like a fitness geek? How is it that you love Oreos?"
Jeremy M drew back and looked at Paolo as if he were from another planet.
"You're kidding right? How could anybody not like Oreos? They are amazing!"
"Okay then, we'll get you some Oreos then."
"Double stuffed!" Jeremy M said with a mischievous grin.
Paolo laughed.
"Of course it would have to be double stuffed."
They both giggled.
"So there's a Stop 'N Shop on the way to our house. I'm pretty sure they are open late on Saturday night. We can stop there." Paolo said. He merged onto the off ramp.
"Yay! I am so starving! I may finish them off before we even get back into the car!" Jeremy M said.
Paolo stopped at the light at the bottom of the exit. Then he made a left turn to so that he could get Jeremy M his Oreos at the Stop 'N Shop.
**
Sunil Patel put the telephone receiver back into its cradle very slowly.
"Sorry chief, no answer," he said.
Tommy seethed.
"Do you have his cell phone or something?" Tommy asked. "I need to take these files off the premises tonight!"
"Officer, I will check. As you can clearly see, I am trying to be most cooperative with you."
Tommy grunted. Sunil opened up the desk drawer in front of him and began to move papers around. The twelve year old kid on the calculator stood up.
"I think I'll go check on the front," he said.
Neither Sunil or Tommy even bothered to look his way. He left the room. Tommy heard the kid's footsteps fade away as he walked toward the main part of the store. Tommy moved closer to Sunil to see what he was doing in the drawer.
"I must admit that I am quite surprised by this reaction from the New Haven Police Department," Sunil said while he scanned scraps of paper in the drawer. "I am helping you all I can. I don't understand why you cannot simply view the videotape here in the store."
Tommy glared at the store manager.
"Because I can't," Tommy said, gritting his teeth.
Finally, Sunil found what he was looking for. He lifted up a note card with a phone number written in blue ink on it.
"See officer, just have a little faith. I knew it was here somewhere."
"Dial it," Tommy commanded.
Sunil did as he was told. Then he waited for the district manager to answer.
Tommy drummed his fingertips on the arm rest of Sunil's chair. His crotch was less than an inch away from the manager's elbow. Tommy became aware of a faint spicy smell. Without thinking he sniffed his own upper arm, close to the armpit. Sunil was staring straight ahead and appeared not to notice.
"Hello?"
Tommy breathed in deeply, secretly relieved he wouldn't have to beat the shit out of the store manager to get what he needed.
"Yes, Mr. Peterman, this is Mr. Sunil Patel. Night manager, store 238, New Haven, Connecticut."
Tommy wondered if Mr. Peterman had ever before even met Mr. Patel. He doubted it. He wondered if Patel would ever make it to store manager. He doubted that too. One didn't get ahead by hassling your district manager on a matter of simple store protocol late on a Saturday night.
"Yes, Mr. Peterman, thank you very much. I am ever so sorry for having to bother you so late at night."
Tommy watched Sunil's forehead break out into tiny droplets of sweat once again. Gross! The guy was just sitting in a chair talking on the phone and he was perspiring. Tommy wondered what would happen to him if he had to run a ten miler along the sound, like he had done just this morning.
"Well you see, Mr. Peterman, it's about the incident that occurred here at the store last weekend. You have read the report, I am certain, about the assault?"
Without thinking, the zipper of Tommy's pants brushed the skin on the side of Sunil's elbow. Sunil glanced up, then moved his elbow away slightly.
"Yes, I know. Terrible business, you're so right."
Tommy made a circular spinning motion with his hands. He wanted the store manager to get to the point already. While Tommy rocked back and forth against the arm rest of Sunil's chair, Sunil explained the situation to his district manager in excruciating detail. Three separate times, Tommy rolled his eyes and made the same circular motion with his hands.
There was a pause while Sunil listened to something that the district manager was saying.
"Oh. I see," Sunil said.
"What?" Tommy asked. "What did he say?"
Sunil raised a hand to quiet Tommy.
"Yes he is here, Mr. Peterman. He is dressed in his police uniform. And yes, I did see his badge. It all looks very official to me."
Tommy grabbed for the telephone receiver. "Let me talk to the guy already," Tommy said.
"No, he didn't have that," Sunil said, his eyes looking up at Tommy. "I'm quite certain."
"Didn't have what?" Tommy asked.
"Okay, I'll ask him," Sunil said into the phone. He put the phone receiver into his palm and spoke quietly to Tommy.
"Mr. Peterman would like to know if you have a judge's order, authorizing you to remove the security tapes from the premises."
Tommy blew his stack. Of course he didn't have a judge's order, no judge would grant such a request so he hadn't even asked one! Tommy grabbed the phone out of Sunil's hand.
"What the hell are you talking about? A judge's order? I'm here trying to investigate a missing person! This particular missing person had the crap beaten out of him right here in this supermarket! You have tapes that will assist the New Haven Police Department in finding out who carried out this crime. You have tapes that will help us to locate the perpetrators of this crime! And if we can locate these fucking shitheads, maybe we can god dammed save this young student's life!"
Sunil backed away from the desk. He had about as much as he could take of Officer Tommy McKeon for one evening.
"You finish talking, I'm going downstairs to check on my store."
Tommy continued yelling into the phone for the next five minutes. In the end, he got what he wanted. Almost. He could make a copy of the videotape and take it back to police headquarters, but he could not erase the store's copy from their hard drive. That was going to require either a judge's order, or at the very least some approval from a manager higher up than Mr. Peterman. And that was not going to be able to happen tonight.
He thanked Peterman with as much kindness as he could summon and hung up the phone gently.
Not ideal, but maybe Tommy could figure something else out. He had to get that entire tape erased off of the store's computer hard drive. As he hung up the phone, he finally realized that the store manager had left. He was alone in the office.
Tommy had the memory stick. He looked at the screen, flashing some strange color pattern as a screen saver. If he could copy the videotape and 'accidentally' erase the hard drive as he did so, he might just be able to chalk that up to his lousy tech skills. That was believable enough. He was a jock, not a computer nerd.
Tommy stuck his stick into a USB port on the side of the computer and jiggled the mouse.
'Please, let there NOT be a password requirement that kicked in while he and Sunil had been on the phone. Please!'
"Shit!" Tommy cried out when the password request window lit up the computer monitor.
He sat back in the office chair and blew air up at the ceiling. He was going to need help from somebody on staff. Tommy stared at the screen and considered his next move. Maybe it was just a simple password that all the management staff could remember easily?
Stop 'N Shop? No way. Too complicated with the apostrophe.
Food? Nope. Too short.
New Haven? Possibly, but did it have caps?
Douche bags? Hmm, that could be the password. At least that would fit the staff quite nicely, Tommy told himself.
The door opened and in walked Harry or Ezekiel or whatever his name was.
Tommy leaned backward and looked over his shoulder, trying to keep the desperation out of his face. The twelve year old kid with the acne closed the door behind him and walked over to the desk, very close to Tommy. He set a paper shopping bag on the desk beside Tommy.
"Here," the kid said. I thought you could use one of these."
Tommy scowled. Then his curiosity got the better of him and he looked inside the paper bag. There was a six-pack of beer inside.
"Seemed to me like you were a little stressed out," he added. "These should help." He reached into the bag, pulled two cans out, and popped the top of one.
"Wait, how old are you?" Tommy asked.
"Twenty five." He took a long swig from his beer and glared at Tommy.
"Gimme a fucking break! Show me some I.D."
The kid hesitated, then took another long swallow. Tommy didn't move.
"Okay, I'm 19. I'll be 20 next May. I just look young for my age."
Tommy cracked up. It was true, the kid looked to Tommy like he couldn't be older than 12 or 13, certainly not much past puberty.
"Yeah, I'll say you look young. And May is practically a year from now. You're just a punk kid."
The kid grunted and finished off most of the rest of his beer.
"I am not just a punk kid. I am the assistant night manager at Stop 'N Shop. On the weekends at least."
"Hooray," Tommy said, mocking him. "But you still look like a punk kid."
The kid finished his beer while Tommy watched him. After he put down the empty can, he looked over at the computer screen. The little window asking for the password was now flashing.
Tommy reached for a beer from the sixer.
"What the hell?" Tommy said to the ceiling. "I'm drinking with a fucking adolescent."
"I'm 19. Going on 20. Stop 'n Shop does not hire adolescents."
This time Tommy grunted, his lips still attached to the metal lip of his beer.
"I'd still like to see some I.D. Drinking age in this state is 21," Tommy said.
"Arrest me."
Tommy smiled. The kid wouldn't last 20 minutes in the holding tank they had back at the station. Tommy took another gulp of beer. Despite his could mood, the beer was already having its intended effect. He was starting to relax a tiny bit.
The kid looked closely at Tommy's uniform. Tommy was proud of how he looked in it, he'd been told as much on quite a few occasions.
"Do you want to be a cop some day?" Tommy asked.
"What? So I can shoot people? No fucking way."
Tommy smiled. He thought about trying to explain that cops didn't really shoot people. In fact, Tommy had never once even fired his gun. But what was the point? Tonight was not supposed to be about recruiting an adolescent to join the force.
Tommy scanned the boy from head to toe. He had on the usual supermarket garb. Dark slacks, a white dress shirt, and a green apron. Tommy thought to himself that the kid was probably packing a pretty killer body underneath.
"I swim," the kid said.
"What?"
"I said that I swim. I saw you checking me out. That's where I get this body. I used to do triathlons, my whole family did. But now I just swim. A few miles every day. And I'm fast too."
"I wasn't checking you out," Tommy objected.
"Yes you were, you just did, just now. You've been thinking of me as just a stupid little teenager, but then you finally noticed. I'm fully grown. And I've got a pretty fucking great body. Cause I swim."
"I wasn't...." Tommy started to say again. But then he stopped. What was the use?
"It's just my stupid acne. I can't really help that. That's what makes me look young. But like I said..."
"You're 19." Tommy interrupted.
The kid smiled.
"That's right. See? You're learning. I'm 19, I swim, and I'm the assistant night manager at the New Haven Stop 'N Shop."
"On the weekends." Tommy added.
The kid nodded. Tommy turned his attention back to the screen.
"So, now that you've told me all about yourself, how about you get me into this fucking computer so that I can download this videotape that I need."
"Maybe I will," the kid taunted him.
Tommy took a sip of beer and glanced over at him again.
"Maybe I will fucking kick your ass all over this office, you punk? How about that Mr. Weekend Assistant Manager?"
The kid shrugged.
"You won't. You need the password. You need my help."
Tommy lunged out of the chair and stood up. He put his face up very close to the kids face. Tommy could smell the beer on his breath. And something faintly antiseptic on the skin of the kids face.
The kid stood his ground. Tommy blinked and took a breath. Intimidation was not going to work here.
"What's your name, Mr. Assistant Manager?"
The kid smiled.
"I told you before when you came into the office, but you were not paying any attention. I was just a little punk kid who you were never going to see again, so it didn't really matter if you knew my name."
Tommy sighed and stepped back from the kid. He looked at the computer screen. It was getting late. He needed the stupid password.
"I'm sorry," Tommy said. "You're right, that was not very nice of me. Now what's your name again please?"
The kid smiled. He opened another beer and took another long drink. Tommy waited. He tried very hard not to tap his fingers against the desk.
"It's Carey," the kid said. "Carey M."
Carey? Where the heck had Tommy gotten Ezekiel from?
"Okay Carey M, what's the god dammed password for this computer?"
"We're not supposed to tell anyone," Carey M said smugly. "How about if I just type it in for you?"
Tommy took a long slow, deep breath. Then he focused his eyes on Carey M's green apron.
How about if I wrap your fucking apron around your neck and hang you from the light fixture until your eyes bulge out of your skull? Tommy made himself calm down. Again.
"Okay, go ahead, type it in. I will look away," Tommy said, grinning as best he could through his teeth.
Carey M leaned in to type in the password. Before he did, he paused, thinking.
"Hmm, what's in all this for me?" he asked, his eyes in the center of Tommy's body.
"What's in it for you? How about your god dammed civic fucking duty?"
"Tisk, tisk. Such language officer. Nope, I'm not interested in civic duty. Not here in New Haven at least."
Tommy was beside himself. When would this nightmare ever end?
"Twenty bucks. I've got twenty bucks in my pocket, you want that?"
Carey M laughed out loud.
"You're joking right? You think that twenty dollars is enough for me to let you have what you want off of this computer, even though my store manager and my district manager says that you can't have it?"
Tommy rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Um, I'm guessing that the answer to that question is no?" Tommy asked sheepishly.
"You're right, officer. I don't want your twenty dollars, don't insult me."
"Then what?"
Carey M stared directly into Tommy's eyes. Then he moved them quickly down to Tommy's mid section. Then back again to Tommy's eyes.
"Seriously?" Tommy asked, incredulous. "You want to see my penis? My cock?"
A thin smile crossed Carey M's face. He shook his head, then repeated the same move as before with his eyes.
"Oh!" Tommy said, suddenly realizing that the kid was not really such a kid at all. "You don't want to just see my cock, you want to suck my cock!"
Carey M nodded.
"Lock the door," Carey M commanded.
Seconds later, Tommy got up out of the chair. He walked over and locked the officer door.
At the New Haven Police Department, he had frequently been praised for how well he followed orders. And if that was all that it was going to take to get the password to this computer, collect his videotape and erase the hard drive, then he was going to follow orders again.
This time he might even like it.
**
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, we're going to Stop 'N Shop?" Jeremy M asked.
Paolo smiled at his cute passenger. Jeremy M was buttoning his pants.
"Um, I don't think we have a lot of choice in the matter. It's late, not too many places are open. So if you want those Oreos..."
Jeremy M sniffed his own hand. It smelled like sex to him. That was weird, he hadn't even really had sex. Paolo did. Jeremy M furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed Paolo's hand. He sniffed it. Sure enough, Paolo's hand smelled like sex too. That made more sense.
"No, no, it's not that at all. Stop 'N Shop is totally fine. It's just that, well, it's just that I think my younger brother works there, that's all. And I didn't get a chance to call him to tell him that I'm in town."
"You have a younger brother?" Paolo asked. "And he lives here in New Haven? Why am I only finding out about this now?"
Jeremy M smiled.
"You never asked, his name is Carey," Jeremy M said.
"Does he look anything like you? We may just have to take. him home with us and have a ménage 'a Jeremy and Carey."
"That's completely disgusting. And it's not gonna happen," Jeremy M said flatly.
"Damn!"
"Besides, Carey is just sort of still growing up. He's 19, and still trying to figure things out. We used to do triathlons together. But he stopped, and we've grown apart a little bit. Now he just swims."
"So, has he figured out if he's gay or not?" Paolo asked. "I'm happy to help out, if he needs any guidance in that department."
"You're demented!"
"Yes I am. But is your brother gay?"
Jeremy M nodded.
"Yup, and he's a top."
"Hmm. Not for me. But how convenient for someone else I know," Paolo teased. "I'll have to pawn him off on Donnie. I'm keeping you for myself."
Paolo gave Jeremy M's left butt cheek a squeeze as they pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket. Jeremy M looked out the car window to the inside of Stop 'N Shop. Was his brother on duty tonight? It would be a really nice surprise to see him.
**
Tommy looked at the little head bobbing up and down between his legs. When he walked into the store a few hours earlier, he hadn't had any intention of receiving a blow job, but well, what the fuck!
He didn't care if the guy was 19 but looked like he was twelve. He gave some really rocking head.
With his pants around his ankles, and the reddish brown hair of Carey M moving rhythmically over his crotch, Tommy watched the videotape file slowly move over to the memory stick that he had inserted into the computer. He wondered which would happen first. Would the file finish or would he? Given the slow speed of the old computer, Tommy was sure he'd be the first to finish.
Tommy jiggled the mouse to kill the screen saver. Carey M came up for air.
"What?" Carey M asked, his mouth moist with spit and Tommy's juice.
"No, no, nothing," Tommy said. "I just moved the mouse a little. Keep going. This is fucking great!"
Carey M smiled.
"Thanks, you've got a great dick. I love foreskin!" He held it in one fist like an awarded just one for Tommy to see.
"Good. I'm keeping it," Tommy replied.
Carey M went back to work on Tommy's uncut cock. Tommy went back to watching the computer.
The phone rang. It scared them both out of their wits. Carey M took his lips off of Tommy's hard-on.
"Shit," Carey M said. "It's probably Sunil. From downstairs."
Tommy was definitely not ready for Carey M to stop. He was so close.
"Should I answer it?" Tommy asked.
Carey M eased himself up from the floor.
"No. Better not. I'll get it," Carey M sighed.
Tommy's dick bounced lightly between his thighs. It was thin, curved at the base, and darker red near the top. And just this moment, it was glistening with the saliva from the assistant store manager's mouth.
Carey M answered the phone. Tommy strained his ears to hear what was being said on the other end of the line.
"You're kidding? Really?" He used the edge of his green apron to wipe a drop of spittle from the corner of his mouth.
"What?" Tommy mouthed silently.
"Wow! That's so cool. Okay then, tell them I'll be right down."
"What?" Tommy asked again, this time out loud as Carey M hung up the phone.
"My brother is here. He's downstairs right now," he said.
"Your brother?" Tommy was confused.
Carey M wiped his forearm across his face, ran his fingers through his hair and tried straightening his apron.
"Yeah. Crazy right? He lives in Boston. I have no idea what he's doing here."
At the same moment, both of them noticed Tommy's cock, pointing upward from the base of the chair. It began to wilt.
"What about?" Tommy asked, nodding his head toward his penis.
"Well, I'm sorry. I guess I can't finish you off right this second. We can work something out later."
"Later? When later?"
" I don't know officer," Carey M said. "Just later, we'll figure it out."
Tommy took a deep breath. This was fucking crazy!
"But consider your debt paid," Carey M said. "I pretty much got what I wanted. All except the creamy topping at the end."
Despite himself, Tommy chuckled.
As Tommy pulled his pants up over his tumescent dick, a little ding from the computer signaled that the file had finished loading. Tommy deleted the only copy from the hard drive with one click. He stood up and adjusted his pants. Then he watched as Carey M unlocked the office door so that they could both go downstairs.
Craiger
JUB Addict
I wondered why Carey all of a sudden had a "M" to his name.... It matched Jeremy's "M" so well. Quite an interesting chapter, Spike. I hope Tommy took into consideration that Sunil is going to tell Brian about this little encounter which will set up red flags....But, will it be in time to save Danny??? I can't wait to find out what is next.
Craiger
Craiger
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Interesting confluence of characters and situations.
Still quite curious about how Tommy is going to "make things right", and why he nabbed Danny in the first place.
And, what the heck is Max up to?
New Haven is certainly Perking these days!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
Still quite curious about how Tommy is going to "make things right", and why he nabbed Danny in the first place.
And, what the heck is Max up to?
New Haven is certainly Perking these days!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz