All day long, for that entire Tuesday, the only thing that Brad could think about was the very firm instructions that he had heard, late at night, the week earlier, when the officer told him, ---did not ask him, mind you, ---but rather very firmly and very strongly told him, "Next Wednesday morning, same time, same place!"

Brad's anxiety had been growing and growing as the day moved along.

He knew that he simply had to be at that old park at, or very close to a quarter till two in the morning, and he definitely remembered that he had been instructed to, "have a little more grease left up in your butt! That comment, and instruction, definitely left him wondering just how did that officer know for sure that he already had some grease up in there, or had he just slammed his cock up in his ass, just taking a chance that his ass was either loose enough that his thick cock would go in, and to its entire length, --without any problem, or did he actually know there would be some grease left in there, and from --what prior activity?

As Brad had continued his walk home the prior week, and after the rough ass fucking and face fucking that he had enjoyed, that question continued to surface again and again. The very straight forward instruction to have a little more grease left up in there, was a very confusing, straight forward, statement. Yes, he did, in-fact, have some grease left up in there, but how in the world could that officer have known that? Or did he just assume that?

Tonight was going to be a very similar night for Brad as he had lived the Tuesday evening, 7 days earlier, with one exception. Tonight, just before he leaves the Bum Rap bar, he will be going into the restroom and pushing a good amount of grease up into his ass, so that it will be obvious that he had followed instructions.

The Bum Rap bar had what was "supposed" to be a very secret and unknown basement room, but it did seem that more and more guys were happening to find out about it, and using that room to their advantage, while at the bar. It is because of that basement room that, the week earlier, Brad was still carrying some grease up in his ass.

The basement room was actually a storage room and a utility room, but if you "just happened to know", where the door to the basement stairs was located, then you also knew that it was never locked. To know where the door was at, you had to know the very confusing path around boxes and the extra chairs and tables, stored upstairs. Very convenient placement of the extra equipment provided just the right amount of shelter for the

'unknown', and 'non-existent' door.

On any given night, especially after about 11 PM, the storage room would be very crowded and every man down there was either getting or giving whatever his personal desire was. Brad's ass was a rather well known, no-- a 'very well known', element of the basement. He spent so much time down there, totally naked, face and hands up against the wall, leaning against the wall as if to be making love to it, and his ass standing out proud and available, that some of his closer friends, and some of his more anxious fuckers would bring drinks down to the basement for him. His ass was such a sweet treat, to so many guys, that they did not want him to have any necessity of going upstairs, to get himself a drink. They were way too concerned that they might loose their turn in line, their turn for using his ass, as their own personal cum depository, if he disappeared for a few minutes, to grab himself a drink. In-fact, upstairs, all you needed to do was tell the bartender what you personally wanted, and then tell him, "Brad too," and he would automatically fix Brad's preferred Bourbon and coke.

The bar knew of Brad's popularity in the basement, and they were also smart enough to realize that Brad's attendance was a business boom for them. Any night that Brad was there, the base of customers stayed longer than on other nights, and that they poured many more drinks, on those, "Brad", nights. Brad had become rather an attraction feature of, 'why to go to the Bum Rap', although none of this had been planned.

One night about three or four weeks earlier, one of Brad's friends had asked him how many times he had been fucked, on that particular night, while down in the basement, and Brad had to admit that he really did not know. He told his friend that he knew there was actually a line forming back behind him, and just as quickly as one cock was pulled out, he was taking another one, and how many, and who they were, he did not have any idea. Hey,-- yea, he admitted, he had experienced one great time, but the

"who and the how many", he did not know. He admitted, that for a short while, that night, he truly did feel like some male whore, but the excitement of what was happening to him and his ass, was so great, that he just let the negative feelings pass, and he concentrated on what was happening to his ass and how great it was feeling. He did tell his friend that he had taken one cock up in his ass that he truly did wish he had found out who it belonged to. He told his buddy, that particular cock felt so much bigger than any other cock he had ever ass-eaten before, and how, now, he was wishing he knew who the guy was, so that he could ask for it again. He was really pissed at himself that he had not turned and looked to see who was fucking him at that time. Shaking his head, he had told his buddy that to try and guess as closely as he could, he thought maybe he had been fucked probably 12 to 15 times, but he did not know if some of them were what he could call, "repeat business," or not. He just knew, that the guy with the really oversized cock had only screwed him once. He knew that, after he had gotten rammed with that pole the first time, he just kept hopeing for it again, but it never stuck him again.

It was this action, in the basement, that had provided the grease that Brad was still toting around, the week before. But, he kept pondering the question,--how in the world did that officer know that he already has some grease up in there, and know to tell him to "have a little more grease left up in there," the following week. The wording, "left up in there,"

was what had him so confused. Was there some way that officer could have known that his ass had already been fucked that night, or was that officer just assuming that? Brad could not decide which way to think. He felt that if that office had just assumed that Brad had some grease up in there, then he was a very gutsy guy, in just ramming his ass hole, as fast and as hard, as he had, without first finding out for sure, and if he did know there was grease up in there, how in the world did he know?

Brad had come to the bar just a little later than usual, and some of his usual Tuesday night friends had become nervous that he was going to be a no show for some reason.

"No, No!" He explained. "No, I know I'm a little late, but I just needed some extra time to myself before I came in tonight, but hey guys-----I'm here now!"

Brad ordered himself his usual Bourbon and coke, and as he retreated over toward the bottle shelf, along the wall, his friend, and one of his usual fuckers, Sam, approached.

"Hey Brad my man! How you doing?" Sam asked. "I was getting a little nervous thinking that maybe I was going to have to go without or find myself getting very lucky someplace else, when you were not here earlier. What's up man?"

Brad greeted Sam and told him he was real glad he was there and waiting on him. "Hey Sam, I really need you and just about as quickly as we can sneak down to the basement. Seen anybody in here tonight that we need to keep the door hidden from?"

"Yea." Sam answered. "There's a couple of two or three guys sitting up at the front end of the bar that I don't know, so when we go down, we've got to be real cool about it. I've never seen them in here before. Why don't you head that way, and I'll follow you very shortly. OK?"

"Yea, OK" Brad said. "I'll be down there and you'll find me over by the old furnace. Don't take too long, my ass is real anxious, and when you get down there, I'll tell you why."

Brad turned and casually walked toward the back or the bar and finally disappeared down the stairs to the basement. He quickly shed everything that he had on;-- a firm, tit fitting and showing, tank top, a pair of cut-offs, a pair of very, very skin tight, short and really sexy biker shorts and of course his sandals. Brad grabbed his small plastic container of grease and applied a fair amount up into his ass. Being as anxious, as he was right then for some ass action, he not only inserted the grease, but he continued to finger himself, and with closing his eyes and throwing his head back, he made believe, to himself, that his own finger was actually the cock hanging on that police officer, that he knew he was going to be getting in just about 4 hours. He had been anxious for this night for a whole week now, and the time was now getting short.

As he was fingering his own as hole, he had a terrible thought of

"Oh shit! What if those officers get all tied up doing some real business and they can't come meet me at the park? Oh shit!" He thought. "Crap! I haven't thought of that happening all week. Oh shit man! What if something goes wrong?"

As he was pondering his worrying thoughts, and at the same time feeling the interior of his own ass hole, Sam came down the stairs, carrying not only his own drink, but a new fresh one for Brad.

"OK man!" Sam said. "So what is going on that you are so damn anxious for my rod tonight. What's happening?"

"Sam" Brad answered. "Sam, I am so damn horny tonight. I've got two policemen that fucked me last week, and I was told to meet them at the same place, same time, tonight, and man, just me getting it in both ends from them at the same time, and especially in such a dangerous, trashy, public place, has really got me all hot and bothered. The officers are hot, both of them, but you know man, I've never been fucked out in the open like that before, and when it happened last week, I really did not think too much about it being in the public view, if anybody happened to look, but remembering it this week, has got me all excited and breathing real heavy. I need to get a cock up in my ass to try and get me calmed back down. As this day moved on, I have just gotten myself all worked up with just the idea of knowing, one policeman in my ass, and another policeman in my mouth, and all three of us doing it out in a public place where anybody could walk up on us. Dam man, I am so damn anxious! I want to get it going, and I want to get it going, right now! Sam I did not know that the idea of me getting my ass fucked out in a public place like that was such a turn on to me. I've never been fucked in a public park before, and last week I wasn't thinking too much about where I was, it was more about who I was getting fucked by, but Sam! God! The idea of getting fucked out in a public park is really exciting! Shit man! I wonder if I will ever be happy just getting fucked in a private room anymore. And, two cops!

Public park, and two cops in me? Oh Man! Shit Sam! I am so damn anxious to do it again!"

Sam put the drinks down, and immediately undressed and let his 8"

stiff uncut cock fly. "Brad, give me you ass, and after I get my cock all slid up in you, you start telling me just what in the hell happened last week, and what is supposed to be going on tonight. You have got me so damn hot now that I have to hear every little minute detail of everything that is happening. Hang on man, I am about to ram your anxious, hungry, horny, public anxious, ass hole. Don't move, here I come!"

Sam turned Brad around to face the wall and immediately rammed his man meat, beef steak rod, up into Brad's rear end. Brad's body was slammed against the wall as Sam's cock entered his ass hole and Sam then slammed into him. Sam's body pushed Brad forward as he lunged toward Brad, and drove his rod in as deeply as it could possibly go.

Hugging the wall with his arms and hands extended upward, was Brad's favorite position when in the basement, for giving his ass, to whoever happened to be the "man of the minute" at that specific time. Any dick, any man,-- neither was of any concern to Mr. ass hungry Brad! Brad's only concern was, the being in the basement and not having some guy's cock rammed up in his ass. His attitude was, "If I'm in the basement, then I need a dick up in my ass the whole time! That's why I am down there!"

As Sam fucked Brad, Brad attempted to tell Sam what had happened the prior week, and attempted to tell him what he expected to have happen, yet that night. With Sam ramming Brad's ass, and ramming much more forcefully as each of Brad's explanations got more exciting, Brad did have some trouble attempting to continue the talking. Once in awhile, Brad would have to just simply quit, so that he could let out a small confined squeal, the result of the strong and forceful motion of being rammed up inside of his ass. It was confusing to determine if his excitement was,

(1) it was from the ass fucking that he was currently getting, or (2) from the thoughts about the two policemen fucking him, that he knew he was scheduled to be getting a little later.

As the evening moved on, more participants visited the basement, and each man had his own personal desires of exactly why he was in the basement, and no short number of them were there to get their weekly piece of Brad's ass. Brad had asked Sam to not discuss his, later in the night, situation with anyone, since he wanted to be sure everything worked out OK, before anybody else knew about the double fucking he was getting from the policemen.

Brad did not consider himself a male-whore, but if a person were to figure out the exact amount of money that Brad did not need to spend on his evening of drinking, it could easily be said that Brad was, in-fact, getting paid for being the available and tight ass hole in the basement.

Brad was in the basement for more than three hours, almost constantly with a dick of someone's up in his ass, and during that entire time he had no reason to go upstairs to get himself a drink. In-fact, after having about 6 or 8 of the complementary ones given to him, all purchased by his anxious tops, Brad knew that he had to quit drinking or he was going to be one plain ole street drunk, as he attempted to get to his, now "favored and preferred," city park.

"Sam, I need to go upstairs and maybe get myself some coffee." He told Sam. Sam had been his kind of "man in attendance" while in the basement. Brad had not asked him to stay there, but Sam simply knew that Brad often allowed himself to get just a little too much ass fucking and along with it, a little too much alcohol, so he rather felt the necessity of hanging around to make sure nothing, too rough, got going on, that Brad, with a little too much alcohol in him, could not take care of. Sam knew that Brad just got way too horny and way too excited, to protect himself.

The night that Brad had allowed himself to be fist fucked, for his very first time, was the night that Sam decided that Brad really needed a friend to stand by, just in case somebody got too rough. The fist fucking turned out OK, in-fact, it showed Brad another excitement in sex that he had not yet experienced, but to Sam, the way he had been "talked into"

getting fisted was a little alarming. He felt that the fister was not really giving Brad a chance to say "no", if he had wanted to. Obviously, Brad did not wish to say no! Later, Brad realized that he was very glad that he had not refused it, and that he had accepted the man's challenge to take it. Brad's thinking concept was, --if a dick can feel that good up in there, then just think of what a big fist will feel like. He took it, and he loved it! That, of course, turned out to be only the first time, of getting a fist up in his ass.

On this particular night, Brad was glad he had Sam around as his buddy and acting kind of like his 'bodyguard'. Brad knew that with his excitement and anxiety for the, 'yet to happen events of the evening', he was not keeping himself under too much control. He knew that he always had a very available ass hole and a very hungry ass hole, (and he also knew that any top that had ever been in that bar in the last few years, had probably, at one time or another, been in it) but tonight he just knew that he was wanting it played with so roughly and so forcefully that he probably was letting himself get a little out of control, and was letting guys treat him much more dangerously and roughly than normal. He did remember being body slammed up against the wall by a couple of guys during the evening.

Guys that were really taking advantage of his anxious and very hungry, "do me men", attitude. In-fact, he could remember one guy earlier in the evening making a remark to him, something to the fashion about how damn horny Brad was acting that night. It did not come across to that fucker that anything was wrong. He was simply expressing how excited that was getting him, and that he hoped that Brad would stay that way for future sessions. He liked the more rough actions that Brad was encouraging the men to take with him and with his ass. He liked the way Brad was begging to be used and abused. He made a comment just before he pulled his cock out, that he had never, in his entire fucking "career," ever had a guy that begged for,-- more!,-- harder!, --deeper!, as much as Brad was doing that night.

Brad and Sam rather closed up the basement action for the night, and within only minutes of their return to the bar upstairs, the basement had become empty. All of a sudden the actual bar had become crowded again.

Only a few minutes earlier, it looked like the bar was not really doing very much business. The only concern the bar owners had about this occurrence, happening at their bar, was to maintain it's secrecy so that the law did not shut them down.

So for, and actually for a number of years now, everything had been going OK, and they had not received any city problems, even though every once in awhile they would have a couple of policemen stop in during the day, as if to just look around. The bartender would always offer them a coke and let them spend as much time visiting as they wished, then they would wonder on. Couple of months later, either the same two, or another two, would stop back in, have their coke, have some conversation, look around, and then be gone. After each visit, the on duty bartender, and any

"aware" customers would take a sigh of relief, take a deep breath and then

'comment' (with a grin on their faces) on how glad they were that the officers felt comfortable visiting a gay bar once in awhile.

Sam and Brad positioned themselves in a corner table where they had some privacy, and rather contemplated Brad's planned moves for the rest of the evening.

"Well last week I got to the park right at about 10 minutes till two. I left here right at about 1:30, so I guess the walk there took me about 20 minutes. I want to be in the area just a few minutes earlier tonight so they know I'm showing up, so I think I will leave here right at about 20 or 25 minutes after. What time is it right now?" Brad asked Sam.

"It's right at 10 minutes after 1." Sam replied. "Now Brad, do you feel safe doing this tonight, or do you want me to kind of trail you and keep you in my sight? I can follow you, but stay back far enough that nobody knows that I am there."

"No, no!" Brad exclaimed! "No! I'm afraid that if they saw you, they'd never stop at the park. Sam, these are police officers, they are screwing some guy out in the middle of a city park, you know damn well that they are going to be damn careful that nobody knows what they are up to.

Yea, I'm not so crazy about the walk through some of that part of town, but tonight I guess I've got a couple of cops that will be following me from some point, so I'm sure I will be OK. Hey, I'll be right back. I've go to go to the restroom and stuff some more grease up in my ass. I want it to be real obvious that I remembered their instructions. I'll be fight back."

Brad left the table, went to the men's room and used one of the stalls so that the other guys using the restroom right then, did not ask him why he was cramming grease up in his ass, and then pulling his shorts back up. He did not want to have to do any explaining to anybody. He did not want this meeting messed up by anybody.

As he got back to the table, Brad asked Sam if he would take his cut-offs with him. "I'm just going to wear these bike shorts, and don't want to bother with the cut-offs."

Sam looked at him and told him. "Well man, all I can say right now is that I hope you make it all the way to the park. With that pair of Spandex or wherever that fabric is, you sure are showing everything to everybody, and walking down the street looking like that is just plain asking for somebody, anybody, to grab you off of the street and rape you.

Are you sure you feel comfortable walking down the street showing that much? Your dick shows in them shorts as if you just simply had it painted."

"Yea, I'm OK Sam. It's late. Most of the way it's kind of dark, and I want to look as hot for those two cops as I can. I want them to get really horny when they pull up behind me, if that's what they intend to do again like last week. Sam, I want them to really fuck my ass, and I want both of them tonight if I can. I figure wearing these bike pants is the closest thing I can do to actually walking down the street with my bare ass hanging out, and if I could get away with that tonight, I'd be doing it!

When they drive up behind me, I'd really like to be showing them a bare ass! I want them hungry!"

"OK then, man. I just hope everything is OK and you are safe.

Keep your eyes open and know what is going on around you till you get hooked up with those cops. Are you not wearing a shirt either? You are going bare-chested? Shit man! You really are anxious to show everything to everybody, aren't you? Damn man! I hope those cops think you are as hot looking as I do right now. Shit man, I'm ready to throw you across this damn table and let you have it up the ass again right here and now!

You are looking good man! Go get 'em, man! Call me when you get home!

I'm anxious to hear the details! I'll be waiting up for the call! OK?"

"Yea, I will Sam, but I'm not sure what time it will be! It will be late, I hope anyway! OK, man. I'm on my way. Talk to you later. Pray for me that my cops don't stand me up! Later, man. Bye!"


Wade Wright

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