Well, I thought philosophically, at least I was being busted by the good-looking cop. He was polite and professional as well, snapping me into handcuffs carefully and telling me my rights in a clear monotone. He didn't feel any need to separate my arm from my shoulder as he escorted me to the van. 'They started it,' I said with a stab at dignity. 'Watch your step, sir,' he said as he put me in the van. I sat on the bench and stared at him for a second, then grinned and wiggled my eyebrows. There was a flash of something in his eyes and a barely perceptible twitch of his lips before he turned away. I sighed, sat back, and closed my eyes. It had been a very well organized, legal gay rights demonstration until a very disorganized, illegal crowd watching had decided to harass us, not realizing that 'gay' is not a synonym for 'wimp.' Later it was discovered that one of the county commissioners and two members of the mayor's staff were arrested wearing 'Gay Pride' buttons, and several of the opposition had outstanding warrants. Half of us were quietly released, half of us went on to bigger and better busts, and the media had a field day. The front page of the newspaper had a gorgeous photo of me and the studly cop, who was behind me, handcuffing me, leaning forward and talking into my ear. I knew he was doing it so that he could be heard over the crowd noise, but it looked like a date in a leather bar. My friends thought it erotic and amusing, and I shuddered to think what his friends thought.

I found out two days later when a look through the peephole revealed a sharp uniform and badge. I adjusted my head and looked at the handsome face...and the impressive black eye. I opened the door and stared at him. 'Let me guess,' I said. 'Comments about the photo?' He sighed. 'Since I'm getting the shit kicked out of me for dating you, I figured I should at least get a cup of coffee out of the deal.' I chuckled and ushered him in. Since he was off duty, I made it Irish Coffee. He sat sprawled in a dining room chair, working the muscles of his neck, and taking deep calming breaths. He noticed the framed copy of the photo I'd hung on the wall and smiled slightly. 'Who did that to your eye?' I asked. He sighed heavily. 'Another cop. We had a...discussion in the locker room that got out of hand.' 'Do you have any recourse?' I asked. He looked at me with eyes I realized were steel blue and full of dignity. 'Yes,' he said. 'I hit him back. Broke the bastard's nose. But, otherwise...we don't do that.' I nodded as if I understood, which of course I couldn't, not completely, and offered a plate of cookies. He nibbled on one and talked, a rambling monologue that grew more intimate after his second Irish Coffee. I listened and stared at him, sending little 'shut up' thoughts down to my cock, which was hard, aching and starting to howl. Damn, I wanted him. I wanted him so fucking much. As I listened, I imagined sucking his cock. Swallowing his hot cum. Offering him my ass. Playing with his handcuffs and nightstick. Damn, I thought to myself. Where the hell did THAT come from?

I don't know when it got through to my horny little mind that he'd been talking about what it felt like to be a gay cop busting a Gay Pride demonstration. I blinked at him. The blue eyes were overflowing with pain and shame. I got up and moved to him automatically, and pulled him to his feet and into my arms. At first, I just held him, then realized I was rubbing my hard cock against...his hard cock. I could hear jingling sounds from his belt as he thrust against me. I lowered my mouth to his neck. He smelled like soap, and sweat and leather and a few things I didn't recognize. So very male. His strong hand gripped my chin and he moved my mouth to his and took it with his tongue. And I do mean TOOK. Demanding. Hungry. Possessive. His hand was locked to the back of my neck and I felt the surging lust power through him. His hand moved frantically, and he ripped open and dropped the gun belt.

Now, until you've been with a man who rips off and drops a gun belt, you just don't know. You don't know a lot of things. Preventing myself from cumming in my pants took an act of incredible will power. Our hands slammed into each other in a frantic effort to get his pants open. I hit my knees and took his engorged cock in my mouth, sucking him in greedily. His cock was big, the smooth head swollen and purple. He poured precum and I sucked at the tip to get more. I looked up at him. He stared with blind eyes, mouth open, gasping for breath, mumbling 'fuck...fuck...fuck' repeatedly. His hands buried themselves in my hair, caressing me as his hips began to move. I knelt before him as he fucked my mouth, as gently as he could with so little self-control. He slid over my tongue, going deep. When the head of his cock entered my throat, he made a loud, stunned sound and shot his cum down my throat. I licked and sucked until he made a whimper of pain and fell on the floor.

I undressed him, and mentally gauged that between the gun belt and everything on his uniform, he had become at least twenty pounds lighter. I was pleased to see his eyes dart to me when I lifted his gun belt to put it on a chair. Even wasted from his orgasm he was still a functioning cop. I wandered into the kitchen to get wine and a couple of glasses, whistling to myself, my mind dancing. I came back, sat beside him, held his head up and the glass to his lips so he could sip. He mumbled something that was no doubt 'thank you' at me. I stripped off my clothes and admired his body. He was muscular, but not deformed. He just looked strong. Lush chest hair trailed down to a very thick, curly nest for his cock. His cock was softening, but still long and thick. And very dark. He had good sized, tight balls. Tan lines from a respectable bathing suit. Hairy, long legs. Cute feet. When I looked back at his face, I discovered it was crimson. He knew he was being openly admired, and it made him blush. I looked down at my throbbing, helpless cock oozing all over and thought, 'hang in there, my friend.'

We chatted for a while, letting him regain his motor control, and I confessed to my recently discovered fetish for what he called his 'cop stuff.' He smiled at me, indulgently at first, then wickedly. He struggled to his knees and got his handcuffs and knight stick. He cuffed my hands in front of me, reciting a paraphrasing of the Miranda that was the hottest and nastiest thing anyone had every said to me. I felt the wide-eyed, stunned bunny expression on my face and didn't care. He lay back down, then yanked on the cuffs. 'Mount my mouth,' he ordered. 'Now.' Trembling, I managed to get my throbbing cock over his mouth, my legs under his arms. I looked down at my handcuffed hands braced against the floor and my head swam for a second. Damn, I thought.

He flicked his tongue against the head of my cock, little teasing touches that drove me wild. I tried to thrust into his mouth and the nightstick thudded against my ass. I yelped in surprise. He growled at me. 'Not until I order you to.' I made some kind of a submissive sound, and mentally hoped he wouldn't be injured when my fucking cock exploded. He went back to the teasing flicks of his tongue, then suddenly fastened his mouth around me and sucked me lustily a couple of times. My hips moved, and the nightstick came back to smack my ass. I groaned loudly, and the nightstick got me again. Ah...I thought. I was to remain motionless and silent as he did whatever he wanted to me.

I looked down at my hands, and moved them slowly apart so that I could feel the cuffs pulling at me and holding me. The sight and feel was incredible. My mind was reeling as I lived out a fantasy. It was impossible to stay silent and still for any length of time, which I didn't mind at all because the feel of the nightstick across my ass drove me wild. My captor tormented me to an incredible state of arousal, then backed off, let me calm down, and started again, to bring me even higher.

I felt the end of the nightstick slide up and down the crack of my ass and I froze. I also felt his fingers on the tip of my cock, wiping off my pouring precum. I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed deeply and slowly. Would he? I asked myself. I felt the end of the nightstick work its way between my cheeks and rub against my puckered hole. 'Uh...' I said, and the nightstick thrust at my hole. I groaned, and it thrust again, but there was no way I could remain silent now. I thrust my ass back and howled. The end of the nightstick penetrated me and worked its way deeper. The combination of the physical sensation and the head-trip drove me nearly insane. He fucked my ass with the stick as I humped back at him to take it in. I struggled against the cuffs, looking down at them as the bit into my wrists. 'Don't you dare cum,' he ordered loudly, then fastened his mouth on my cock and sucked hard.

My eyes rolled around in my head independently of each other, I was sure of it. The nightstick fucking my ass, the handcuffs restraining my wrists, his greedy mouth on my cock, and my own fight not to cum had me in the most intense pleasure I've ever felt. I howled, each part of my body trying to move in a different direction. My wrists wanted to struggle against the cuffs, my ass wanted to thrust back and take the nightstick, my cock wanted my hips to thrust down deep into his mouth, and my balls wanted to empty their huge load immediately and everywhere. Uncontrollable muscle spasms set in, and for a minute or two, each body part got their wish. Then...my balls took over, and I started to pump cum. I was in demented ecstasy, screaming, feeling pulse after pulse of cum jet out of me...feeling his mouth suck at it and swallow, still feeling the hard stick fuck my ass. Then the lights went out and I felt nothing until I came to much, much later.

He moved in with me, and I'm learning to be the significant other of a cop. Not an easy job. But, love does conquer...and they have such great toys to play with.


Morgan Grayson

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