My cop killer case finally came to trial after six very long months of waiting, it lasted four weeks. My associate Rona Johnson, sitting second chair and I worked many nights until two in the morning trying to put together a defense for the indefensible.
In this country, we follow the dictates of American Jurisprudence which requires that every accused person receive a defense in court, no matter how objectionable, or reprehensible the crime.
It took only four hours for the jury to find him guilty of murder in the first degree. Twenty days later the sentence was handed down - life in prison without the possibility of parole.
I generally hate losing in court. It’s not exactly a gold star on your CV as far as your Firm is concerned. But after the sentence was announced today and court adjourned in the late afternoon Rona and I headed across the street to ‘The Guilty Verdict’, the favorite spot for courthouse personnel to hang out. We toasted Lady Justice knowing that that magnificent statue has a smile on her face.
Driving home to an empty house tonight my thoughts turned to Buck, my cop neighbor across the street. He came on really strong to me six months ago trying to intimidate me into stepping aside and let another lawyer at my firm defend the killer. The fact that the victim was Buck’s cop pal Sean was tough. He was a truly sweet and thoughtful human being and I loved him a much as Buck did.
Buck tried pulling his macho Marine shit on me. Attempting to bully and force me to step aside on this case in order to retain our friendship. And to be honest, I considered doing so to please him and keep our relationship intact. But after my son Mark stepped in, he convinced me not to be bullied, I had a job to do. So, I did my job and to be frank, in this case, I’m glad he was found guilty.
Mark was just beginning to embrace and feed the dominate side of his personality, tossing red meat to it by taking down Buck Masters. It did sate his appetite for the time being. But I knew from experience, once the beast is released it had to be feed.
He was the star senior high school football quarterback preparing to go away to college but also a tough young man growing rapidly into a kick-ass force to be reckoned with. He was breaking out of his own shadow. The first time he fucked me I knew he was the boss.
Mark devised the perfect blackmail scheme to keep Buck in line -- in the form of a video recorded during an alcohol driven orgy. Buck as the bottom man along with his son Daniel, both recorded sucking cock and taking it up the ass.
I have a copy of the tape. Now all I have to do is snap my fingers and Buck arrives to take whatever I dish out.
At present, I have my eye on one of Buck’s motorcycle cop pals, twenty-five-year-old Anthony Marino. Tony to his friends.
Unlike what you think an Italian man typically looks like, Tony’s family originated in northern Italy, so he has blonde hair and clear blue eyes. Tall for a typical Italian male, he’s well over six feet. He works out several days a week and has the kind of body you see in cologne ads in glossy magazines. Tanned, big smile, dimpled cheeks, perfect white teeth, a Roman nose, fairly large ears that he keeps covered behind longish hair, big hands and feet.
I haven’t had the privilege of seeing what he’s packing in the crotch of his uniform trousers, but it looks formidable unless he’s all balls, and I have a feeling that he might have a real whopper hanging between his legs.
Buck talks about him endlessly. Tony this and Tony that. It sounds to me like he has a serious crush on his straight cop buddy. He mentions that Tony works out five days a week because as Tony repeats endlessly: “Ain’t getting any at home, gotta do something!” His wife is knocked up, about five months into her pregnancy. “I got blue balls like you wouldn’t believe.” Tony says to Buck as the two of them stand in front of a wall of grey metal clothes lockers stripping out of their civilian clothes.
“Bro, you just need a weekend away from home man. Didn’t Sarah’s sister come up from Florida for a couple of weeks?”
“Yeah, she got here two days ago, and she has the guest room and I’m stuck on the living room couch – my back is killing me dude!”
“Not sleeping in the bed with Sarah?”
“No, says she can’t sleep with me because I take up too much room. Ain’t that a kick in the head man – she’s as big as house and I take up too much room?”
“That was the same way my ex-wife Barbara was when she was carrying Daniel. I was lucky, the guest room was empty.”
“So, you think it would be cool if I spent the weekend at your digs man?”
“Hell, yeah bro, we can turn it into a party. You remember my buddy across the street, the lawyer Stuart Holden – you remember meeting him a couple of months ago at the Chief’s retirement party, right?”
“Right, I remember, he’s a tall good-looking dude and classy as fuck the way I recall.”
“Correct, and his son is away studying for a law degree, so Stuart will join us.”
“Sounds like a plan to me buddy, only one thing, no girls man my speed governor is out of whack and I don’t want to cheat on Sarah.”
“Totally get that bro. There will be no chicks at our party, guaranteed.”
“Then, it’s three days and counting.” He laughs.
“Just swing by on your Harley after your shift on Friday and you can wear a pair of my board shorts and a pair of my Nike’s, for the weekend, we’re the same size, 12’s, right?
“Right on the nose bro.”
Buck texted me later in the day with the good news ‘Mission Accomplished!’
Now all I have to do between now and Friday evening is to find those little white pills Mark left behind when he headed to New Haven.
I already have my phone ready to record our evening of fun with Anthony and I know that Buck’s playroom is set up and ready for action. I left it in good shape the last time I fucked Buck up on his own St. Andrews Cross.
It has been the longest three days in my life. My dick stayed hard the entire seventy-two hours. My jockstrap is drenched with dried precum that leaked out just imaging what having control of this hot straight cop was going to be like. All that dried precum will come back to life in a mouth full of straight cop spit.
Buck as it turns out is bi like me, but Tony is about as straight as they come. I have a pretty good idea that he will arrive with low hanging nuts filled to overflowing because of his situation at home.
Buck and I are now in his living room impatiently waiting. Standing at the window overlooking the driveway. He’s in his full motorcycle cop uniform and I’m wearing my desert camo uniform, trousers bloused in the tops of recently polished combat boots.
We’ve already indulged in three beers apiece waiting for our unsuspecting cop prey to arrive. I’ve had Buck down on his knees draining out at least one can of beer directly from the tap. He has the dazed look on his face of a satisfied man.
His white Harley-Davidson Electra Glide cop motorcycle comes to a stop in the driveway under the window we’re standing at watching. Tony dismounts, swings his leg over the seat, stomps down the kick-stand and takes his white helmet off and tucks it under his arm and mounts the stairs to Buck’s front door.
Buck opens the door and there he stands. Right hand on its way up to remove the aviator sunglasses. Broad smile on his face, square dimpled chin. When he smiles his entire face lights up. Little wonder Buck is smitten, so am I.
Buck embraces Tony in a straight bro hug, more of a chest bump than a hug. Tony extends his hand beyond Buck for a friendly handshake with me. His hand is warm and strong enveloping what I considered my fairly large hand. I know he’s Italian but his blonde good looks remind me of a Viking warrior.
“Come on over Tony and sit down on the sofa and I’ll get you a brew – Stuart and I are a couple ahead, but I’m sure you can catch up.” Buck states.
“Sure, thing pal” Tony replies placing his helmet and sunglasses on the coffee table, sits, leans back, fingers knitted together behind his head, right boot on top of his left knee. Buck returns with three bottles of Budweiser, hands one to each of us. We want Tony to have a quantity of beer in him for some possible piss play later in the evening.
I decided that Tony’s fourth beer would be the one I drop the GBH and one Viagra tablet into. If everything I’ve read about ecstasy is true, he’s going to be a lot of fun, and his dick is going to be standing tall. This is going to be a coming out party, not a rape.
And throw in blackmail and who’s going to know about it? Nobody will ever know, and I’ll have a fresh new playmate when the urge strikes.
The evening progresses and Tony finally downs his fourth beer. He has a big smile on his face. He looks happy and relaxed. It takes thirty minutes before his dick starts showing through his cop trousers. He keeps both hands in his lap messaging his hard cock. Big grin on his face as he lays his head back on the sofa and closes his eyes. I check to make certain that his breathing is regular and there is no problem.
I look over at Buck who is literally licking his lips looking at Tony’s hard dick and I say: “Go ahead and take a taste bud, I know you want to.”
“You think?”
“Hell yeah, that’s why he’s here, so have a little taste.”
Buck takes the boot resting on Tony’s knee and lowers it to the floor at the same time spreading the cop’s legs wide. Kneels between his buddy’s legs, reaches up and unzips his uniform trousers, reaches in and fishes out his hard dick that already has precum running over the swollen dick head. The cop’s dick is rigid and the lips are puffed and slightly parted with bubbles of precum sitting on the summit, running slowly down the thickly veined shaft.
Buck looks at me as I stand, dick in my hand slowly jacking. Waiting for Buck to make his moves on his straight pal. He lowers his mouth to Tony’s straining and pulsating member and closes his lips over the head humming. Tony raises his head and looks down on his friend nursing on his dick. Mumbling: “Oh, that feels good Sarah, finger my hole.” His head slumps to the back of the sofa. Buck, pulls off smiling and repeats what Tony just said, “Oh, that feels good Sarah, finger my hole.”
“I think it’s time to get our friend down to the playroom, don’t you think Sergeant?”
“Yes, Sir, I think it’s time to get some video on Prince Charming here.”
“Fireman’s carry Sergeant – you want the pleasure?”
“Yes Sir, I do.”
We pull Tony to a standing position and Buck puts his shoulder to the cop’s middle and lifts him. His dick is still out of the fly and still hard as a rock, leaking precum over the shoulder of Buck’s cop shirt.
I can’t resist, so I hold one of Tony’s tall black cop boots and feel the heat as I walk behind Buck through the house into the kitchen, then out into the garage and down the stairs into the playroom.
Buck lays him on his back with his head hanging off the end of the table so we can get some shots of him with Buck’s dick in his mouth. We’ll make certain that only his face is in the shot. Mouth full of cop dick, eyes closed in ecstasy. Then we’ll get views of him: boots on Buck’s shoulders and Buck’s dick up Tony’s ass. And finally, stretch him on the cross and whip him with a flogger, not to damage his skin, but just to bring out some color and some marks that will fade before morning.
It only takes about an hour to get the video we need. We’re not going to molest him tonight because we want him to get a good night’s sleep and take a look at the blackmail tape over coffee in the morning.
I want him fully awake and aware of his position. This weekend is not going to be a ‘one off.’ I want this stud as part of my collection. The prize catch.
End of Chapter 7
