Last night was one hell of a night. I turned the tables on one of the hottest former Marine MPs now a motorcycle cop, you’ve ever seen, who happens to be my best friend Buck. He’s a handsome, stocky six-footer with dark features, fortysomething. Dark eyes, bushy eyebrows. He has that Burt Reynolds look, in fact, he’s been mistaken for a young Burt Reynolds more than once. And then, there’s Daniel, his eighteen-year-old son. He’s a dark haired brown eyed carbon copy of his old man. They were, both swaggering and arrogant, cock of the walk types, but no longer.
I brought the two of them down several notches last night, showed both what station in life they’re going to occupy from now on. Humiliated the Dad in front of his son, and now I have them both locked up and locked down, in a metaphorical sense.
My son Mark, videotaped them during a homosexual spree last evening. I believe Buck turned his son out long before our exchange last night. I’m certain that it was Buck who taught Daniel how to dominate another man, and how to take a dick up his ass, so there’s that.
My son Mark is a handsome young man, eighteen years old. A tall and lanky six-foot-tall star sprinter on the track team at Hitchcock High. His blond hair comes down, almost to his broad shoulders, he has the same brown eyes his mother had. A square jawline, classical Roman nose, and a happy smile that turns up at the corners when he grins. When he’s running the bulge in his jockstrap bounces up and down like a sack full of groceries. Any straight, bi or gay dude who looks on, will wish they were the proud owners of such a pussy pleaser.
I’m a straight dude with very dark, kinky tendencies as you already know. Let me give you some idea of what I look like. I’m in my early forties, six feet three inches tall, weight one hundred and ninety pounds soaking wet. I have light blue eyes, executive stylish brown and grey hair cut short. I’m clean shaven, I have full lips and a square dimpled chin. the boy-next-door type. Some say that I resemble Paul Newman, but I don’t see it.
If you notice me during the business day, you’ll see a tall slender dude with a trim waist wearing a tailor-made business suit and a custom shirt, pulling behind me several boxes stacked high containing legal briefs headed for court.
Mark is sitting at the table when I enter, thumbing through a book on film making, sipping a steaming mug of coffee, blowing over the top to cool it down. I stand next to him. Just a few minutes ago I stepped out of the shower, so my hair is still damp and my hairy legs are slightly matter down from the shower. I’m wearing shower shoes, a terry cloth robe and holding a matching mug full of coffee.
“Looks like you’re going commando this morning Dad.” He says reaching into the opening of my robe to loosely fondling my hanging dick. Pushes my foreskin back to reveal the head and begins a slow downward milking motion. “I sure could use some cream in my coffee Dad – mind if I milk some out?”
“Kinda early in the morning for the dairymen to be out, huh?”
“No Sir, we dairy workers are available all hours of the day.”
I step closer and can smell the Irish Spring soap we both showered with this morning. I see the gloss his shampoo left on his blond hair. Although, I’m buck naked under my robe he’s dressed for a Sunday run. Loose green and white school tank top with the number 10 on the back, green school jogging shorts with a broad white stripe on the side, opened half way up revealing his fully packed white mesh athletic supporter
I bend over and kiss the top of his head and say, “Sorry sport, I have to pour over the brief for Monday, fun has to wait until later.”
He bends still holding my hard dick in his hand and licks the precum from the head that he drew out from the milking.
“Yum, Sir – first things first I guess, I can wait.” He says dropping his hand down to his own crotch, “It’s jack-in-the-box down here that’s ready to spring. Ha ha ha.”
I watch him get up and go over to rinse out his coffee mug leaving it in the sink.
“Later Dad.” He says, turns his head smiling at me. Then he’s out the back door and down the driveway to jog around our quiet neighborhood.
I go over to the kitchen window and watch my son disappear down our deserted suburban street. I see Buck across the street in his front yard shirtless, in a loose pair of white board shorts and Marine desert boots going slowly up the side of his driveway edging with a trimer. I don’t see his police motorcycle and assume that it’s in his garage next to his Dodge Ram truck.
Every few minutes, he looks over to our house. I’m sure he can see me looking out the window at him. My dick is getting stiff again watching his glistening muscular, dark fur covered chest. I’m betting that sweat is dripping down from his hairy pits as he works. He lowers a hand and scratches his crotch, a little too long I’m thinking to myself. He walks back up the driveway to the corner of his house and stops looking over at me in the window, then disappears around the corner out of sight.
I need to get dressed for the day so I haul my ass upstairs to get into my usual Sunday stay-at-home get up, basketball shorts, tank top and flip flops. And head back down stairs to the sunroom accessed from the dining room through double French doors
I fetch one of the three banker boxes stacked in a corner that house the legal briefs I need on Monday for court. Open the first one and spread the folders out on top of a round white wicker table, and go to work reading and rereading their contents. Damn “I say to myself, “This shit is so fucked up that it’s going to take the rest of the day to sort it out.”
I toil over the mass of paperwork in front of me for maybe an hour and a half when I hear the kitchen door open and close. Mark yells out, “Dad, where are you?” I look up from the carpeted floor where I have been sitting, legs crossed going over and over one section of my brief, and shout back.
“In the sunroom son.”
“Ah, there you are Dad - you know when I ran up to the house I saw Buck standing on the steps of his porch in full cop uniform looking in the direction of our house, just sorta standing there like he might be waiting for an Uber or something. I though he was off today, huh?”
I’m beginning to put puzzle pieces together looking up at my son, who is panting coming down from his running high. “Yeah, that’s what he said – he had the whole weekend off.” “Mark” I say getting up from the floor, “Why don’t you go and hit the shower – I have an idea how we can add a little spice to a lazy day.”
He throws his arms around my shoulders. His teen age-male pheromones and the manly stink coming from his sweated-up pits are filling the room, making me high. This is the third time this morning my trouser snake has raised its expectant head. All kinds of sexual thoughts are flashing through my mind, some concerning him, some about Buck, and some really raw thoughts about his son Daniel.
I say to Mark, “I’m thinking about hauling out my Army Reserve desert digital Camo uniform and leather combat boots. The double bars on the collars should show our cop friend where he belongs, down on his knees, being the grunt he is.
He releases me from the tight embrace and says, smiling that killer smile. “Dad, you haven’t worn that uniform once since mom passed away – what gives?”
“I just thought it might feel good getting back into a command mindset, stretch my in-charge muscles a bit, throw a little weight around when we go over to Buck’s and Daniel’s house, you know, have us some fun this afternoon. You in a kick ass mood son?”
“Yes Sir Dad, I’d like to take charge of Daniel’s Dad, if you let me.” Mark sounds like a young lad, asking permission to borrow the family sedan, and the way he asked permission in such a sheepish manner, casting his eyes down went directly to my balls causing them to roll over and tighten my nut sack.
“You know what son, there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for you, all you have to do is ask, and it’s yours, like when you asked me if you could have Daniel’s cop boots last night and I gave them to you. See, you know how to work your old man.”
I gather up the legal briefs scattered on top of the table into a neat pile, then put them back into the box. Look around the room to make sure that none of my legal shit is left out in the open.
I hightail it upstairs to my bedroom. Inside the closet I have hanging a green jungle Camo zip up suit bag with all of my Army uniforms, dress and field. Also, there are all of my Army boots including the black leather combats.
I take the hanging bag out and lay It across my bed, unzip it and take out my Camo uniform. Stretch it out on the bed, then go back for my combats and sit them on top of my dresser. Bring out the shoe shine kit, take out the soft bristle brush and clean the dust from my boots careful, not to disturb the high gloss shine.
I dig through a dresser drawer containing neatly stacked undershirts including olive green and brown crew neck Army undershirts. I select the brown shirt and toss it over to the top of the bed. Another drawer contains stacks of socks of all colors and lengths, including olive green wool Army over the calf socks, I take a pair and toss them onto my bed.
Mark walks into my bedroom with a smile on his face, picks up one of my combat boots pointing the toe to the floor, brings the boot up and sinks his face down into the top, covering most of his face. Only his eyes are showing above the top.
I walk over to him, grasp the boot that’s in his hand and with my other hand on the back of his head, press his face tightly into the boot. I can hear him taking big whiffs of the interior.
“That’s right boot boy, suck in all of your Dad’s hot boot leather scent – I know you jerk off with them when I’m away from the house – You don’t always clean up after yourself, but I think that’s hot as fuck son.” I take my boot from him and pair it with the other from the dresser top and sit both down next to the bed.
He watches me drop my basketball shorts and pull on my desert Camo trousers. I put on the olive green wool OTC socks and slide my feet into the speed lace combats, blouse my Camo trousers into the tops and lace up both boots.
I stand, button up the trousers then buckle the web belt. I draw the brown undershirt over my head, stuff the bottom into the waist of my trousers then put on the Camo blouse and button it up.
“HOT DAMN Dad – Captain Sir!” Mark says, looking me up and down, and gives me a hand salute. I put my hand on the back of his neck and pull him forward. We hug briefly and I say to him. “Go over to Buck’s house and tell him to stand by, and if he gives you any back talk, just say – video tape.”
Mark, leaves the bedroom and runs down the stairs then across the street to Buck’s house and rings the front doorbell. A couple of minutes later, Buck opens the door.
From my window, I can see Mark’s back and Buck, fully dress in his cop uniform moving his head slowly up and down. He’s looking past Mark’s head and in my direction, straining to see me looking at him from my bedroom window. The way he sways side to side peeking around Mark, trying to see me, goes directly to my dick, waking it up.
Mark turns and runs back across the street, then up the stairs to find me looking out of the window. He says to me as he enters the room, “Dad – he asked me what you wanted with him and I said, you’ll find out soon enough coper!”
I’m laughing my ass off as I grab Mark’s fully packed jockstrap under his running shorts and say, trying to catch my breath, “Yeah, he sure as fuck is going to find out when you ram this big pig sticker of yours up his cop bum!”
“Hell, yeah Dad, and I’m going to use his own cop handcuffs on him the same way you did last night!”
I’m seeing my son in a totally different light. Witnessing his dominant side emerge and to add fuel to the flame, he reaches out and grabs my cock through my Camo trousers looking me straight in my eyes and speaks, “You know what I mean Dad - We have a lot of rope down in the basement don’t we, for those lonely winter nights, huh?”
That nearly took my breath away. Here’s my eighteen-year-old son, actually a full-grown man throwing out what seems to me to be a challenge. You know, like any young male animal challenging the dominate male member of the pack.
My dick is hard in my son’s firm grip beginning to throb and leak precum down my leg since I’m going commando under these uniform trousers.
He’ still holding on to my meat, and still staring deeply into my eyes attempting to read my thoughts, then releases my dick and steps back to ask, “Dad, what do you think I should wear over to Buck’s house today?”
I’m still trying to process what just happened. Shuffling around in my memory the last forty-eight hours and what they mean. This beautiful young son of mine, in so many words, said that he intends to rope me up and do whatever the fuck he wants to do to me when the night turns cold and the snow begins to fall.
Snapping out of this dazed moment I say, “How about the cop boots I took off of Daniel, last night, you earned those boots son, as far as I’m concerned. You can force Buck down on his knees and make him to lick them in front of his son, that should be a humiliating moment for him, forced to lick his own son’s boots on your feet.
Mark has that same Dennis the Menace grin on his face I’ve been seeing a lot of these days. He is beginning to look like a teenage Devil with a purpose.
I’m starting to like this new version of my son come to the surface. My Dad dick sure as fuck appreciates it.
“Mark go put on a pair of your faded levis and a ragged school jersey and Daniel’s patrol boots. We’re going over to Buck’s and you’re going to tear up some cop ass!”
“Yes Sir, I’ve been waiting for the go ahead, I’m fully charged!”
It takes only a few minutes to arrive at Buck’s front door. In my Army uniform, I ring the bell. Buck answers with his son Daniel at his side. Mark puts his left hand square in the middle of Buck’s chest and pushes him back into the hallway.
“TURN THE FUCK AROUND COPER!” Mark yells into his face. The stunned expression on Buck’s is one for the books. Him being a former Marine is conditioned to take and carry out orders. Buck turns swiftly on his heels.
“Put your FUCKING HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK!” Mark barks! He snatches the chrome plated handcuffs from their black leather keeper on the duty belt, and rapidly secures both of Buck’s wrist in one fluid effort. Locks them into place.
I’m speechless seeing how skillfully my son handled an experience veteran law enforcement officer. And I have to tell you, my dick is going wild under these Camo trousers.
His son Daniel is standing back with his mouth wide open, watching the action go down and sees his father being man handled so expertly by his high school pal.
I reach and quickly remove Buck’s Glock 19 from its holster, knowing that the safety lock is in place. I rest the tip of the barrel against the back of Daniel’s head, and whisper into his ear, “Ok punk! Let’s take another look at the playroom in the basement.”
Daniel’s looking at me sideways, his brown eyes opened wide and his mouth still hanging agape. He says nothing. Mark shoves Buck ahead of us as we march our two new captives down into their own lair.
We arrive down in the basement, after hitting the light switch at the top of the stairs. Mark pushes Buck over to the padded table. Buck starts to speak but Mark slaps the back of his head and yells in a menacing voice one that I have never heard before, “WHO THE FUCK SAID YOU COULD TALK – SHUT YOUR FUCKING COP MOUTH BEFORE I SHUT IT FOR YOU, ASSHOLE!”
Buck stands mute, his head hanging down, chin to his chest. I march Daniel over to stand in front of the St. Andrews Cross.
I don’t yell at him, but say in a low controlled voice, “Take your shirt off and stand with your back to the Cross and raise your hands to the corners.”
“Yes, Sir.” Daniel removes the tank top he’s wearing and mounts the Cross with his back to it.
I push the Glock into my right hip pocket and step up and cuff both hands to the top of the Cross. I watch Mark escort Buck to the end of the padded table facing the Cross so that his son can watch Buck being shoved down to his knees and forced to lick the cop boots his son was wearing last night.
Mark says “Good boy – lick that dirt off, from now own, you’re going to be my boot boy. Ain’t that right ass wipe?” When Buck doesn’t respond, Mark yanks his booted foot away from Buck’s face and kicks him square in his ass, sending him face down on the grey epoxied floor. “AIN’T THAT RIGHT ASS WIPE?” He bends over and yells into Buck’s face.
“Yes, Sir, whatever you say.” Buck gripes from his prone position.
On the other side of the basement, Daniel stretched tight on the Cross cries out “Leave my Dad alone you motherfucker – get off of him!”
I step up and deliver two sharp open handed slaps to his face and yell, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look me squarely into my eyes, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING MOUTH ONE MORE TIME, ONE MORE TIME, TO SAY ANYTHING BUT YES SIR, AND I’LL CUT YOUR FUCKING BALLS OFF, DID YOU GET THAT?”
“Yes, Sir, I got it.”
“Good” I say, unbuttoning Daniel’s levis and push them down to his ankles. He’s wearing a white mesh jockstrap encrusted with dry cum, I release his thick cock and balls from their mesh prison into the open. The young man sweaty dick fragrance hits me smack in my face.
It’s not hard yet but it’s growing. Long and thick and has one of those beautifully shaped helmet heads like his Dad’s, one that you know is going to be huge when engorged, a dick head that loves to be sucked on with a wide piss slit, the kind you love to get the tip of your into. So of course, I take the swelling dick into my mouth and feel it start to come to life when he says softly.
“Sir, I gotta piss really bad.”
Well, it’s not one of the fetishes I practice on a regular basis, but I have tasted Mark’s, and mine on occasion, so I look up at him with the head of his dick resting on the top of my tongue and say.
“Ok, but go slow I don’t want a piss shower, not yet anyway.”
It starts with a single drop on top of my tongue, then another and another until a steady stream of warm piss starts flowing and I start gulping it down. Either he’s been drinking a lot of water, or his Dad has been feeding him a hell of a lot of beer, and I believe it’s a combination of both because it doesn’t taste bad at all, in fact, I kinda like it, hmmmmmmm. Am I learning something new about myself?
I drain Daniel’s bladder and begin a slow suck as he becomes hard in my mouth, thrusting his hips toward me as I gobble up his hard young man shaft.
I’m savoring the taste, as well as the thickness and the way the hard roundness of the shaft feels in my mouth. He’s throwing off that young man sent, gotta have it smell, that only a man of his young age could manufacture.
I pull off of his throbbing piece because he is dangerously close to climax and I want this tasty ritual to continue a little longer before he serves up my dinner.
I look over at Mark and Buck. Mark has Buck’s uniform trousers pushed down to the top of his cop boots together with his white boxers. The cop’s hands are still cuffed over the small of his back and Mark is munching on Buck’s fragrant man hole, humming away, sucking and chewing on the sphincter, getting ready to spear the cop’s hole with the nine-inch man cock he’s holding in his hands, both hands.
Mark rests his dick head on Buck’s sloppily conditioned tunnel entrance and pushes the head in slowly. Buck throws his back and begins to moan. It sounds like he trying to sing a church hymn intoning an occasional Jesus and God in the mixture.
Mark is holding Buck’s shoulders pulling him back to meet each of his thrusts.
“OH, MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD… PLEASE, PLEASE FUCK ME…OH YEAH, DO IT DEEP…DO IT DEEP…OH SHIT…OH SHIT FUCK GODDAMN, PLEASEEEEEEEEE!”
Buck is singing his heart out as Mark slams into his hot fuck hole. Finally reaches the end of the happiness trail, roars out so that it can be heard blocks away. “HELL YES, HELL YES, MOTHERFUCKER…HELL YESS.AHHHHHHHHH…FUCKING AHHHHH!”
Mark is spent and is laying belly down on Bucks sweated up back. His hard cock still embedded inside Buck and it stays there and waits for his fuck stick to deflate a little before he removes it. His compliant captive continues to lay chest down bent over the fuck table.
I decide not to fuck Daniel tonight, but to continue working on his willing joy stick until I can draw out a good supply of his teenage spunk and eat it like a starving man.
I’m wishing also to myself, that he might have a small supply of his warm piss remaining to wash down his cum treat.
He’s close to delivering into my hungry mouth and here It comes. It’s almost a silent delivery on his part, unusual for a young dude like him not to cry out when he shoots.
Daniel just purrs out a bleat of happiness as he tightens his abdominal muscles and fires off choking volley after choking volley of sperm shots all the way to the back my throat and down my gullet into my empty stomach.
I’ll save his sweet asshole for a later date after we’ve all had a chance to digest this afternoons three ring circus.
Another day, another circus. And I hold the best ticket possible for reentry to the Big Top.
Our beautiful BLACKMAIL TAPE.
End of Chapter 4
