Too defiant to Abuse

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

Introduction:

Longer-read: After college, the 23-year-old Michael J Cox moved clear across the country. Finding a new house, job, and a heap of trouble. Getting to know the friends and enemies he encountered. And the great sex he had with both. However much he liked the thuggish type, the defiant Mikey Mike hates to be dominated, bound, or abused. 

This is a 9-part dramatic depiction of what Mike had to endure setting up shop.

Disclaimer:
This story is strictly fictional and contains male-on-male (gay) sexual content, both implied and explicit. 

• If this offends you, please do not continue. 
• If you are under 16 years of age, please exit this story now. 

All character names, implied situations, parties, or locations are strictly fictional. Any similarities with real people are unintentional and purely coincidental. This fictional story is the author's imagination and is not based on real-life events or people. The author does not endorse any products or parties named in this story.

Copyright:
Any and all copyrights to this story remain strictly that of the author. No other publication, use, or reproduction of this story or parts of this story is allowed without the author's written consent. 

Too defiant to Abuse - Part 7.

Tomas Johnson murmured in his boyfriend's ear: "Are you ready to take my baby's boy?... I want to breed that fucking hot ass of yours... Fill you up good... Fuck, that ass is tight!..." Mikey could not talk. Tommy still lay on his back, pumping the boy's ass much rougher. He had clamped a hand over Michael's mouth and nose. Controlling when and how much Mikey was allowed to breathe. So Mike just grunted his ascent. Sticking his tongue out to let it tickle Tommy's palm.

Like a jackknife, Tomas jumped to his feet. He immediately began increasing the tempo. His ten-inch cock slammed Michael harder and faster. The wet and sloppy sounds emanating from Mike's backdoor only egged Tommy on more. He made his hips pound the bent-over boy hard. Grabbing a fist full of flesh of Mikey's buttocks. This way, Tomas had all the leverage he needed. Both men were ecstatic. This was lovemaking at its best, thought Mikey. His favorite pornstar appeared to be in total control now.

Or was he? Michael looked over his shoulder when Tomas slackened the grip on his gluteus maximus. The pounding movements became much more erratic too. What Mike saw scared him. Tommy's eyes were rolling into the back of his head. His face lolled back to front. This was not what Michael knew to be a prelude to a full-body ejaculation. This looked much more like Tomas was about the pass-out.

Mike let the cock-head slowly slide out his ass. Then he vaulted off the leather cushioned bench. Doing a kind of twist in mid-air, landing to the side of Tomas Johnson. The pornstar had his tongue droop out and was about to collapse. Tommy sweated profusely, lolling like a sack of potatoes in his arms. Michael walked them over to the rubber-covered bed in the playroom. He lay his friend on the bed and ran downstairs. Moments later, he climbed back up to the attic playroom with a first aid kit, a damp towel, and Tom's phone. The man was drifting in and out of consciousness, still sweating and clammy. Mike knew enough first aid to make Tomas somewhat comfortable. 

Michael was angry with himself for letting Tomas make love to him. The paramedic had told the boys to take it easy after all. Why did Mike not listen to him? He sponged Tom's head with the damp towel. Checking the man's blood pressure and temperature. Michael even measured Tom's heart rate. Mike saw it did not look like a heart attack from the few words he and Tommy exchanged. But at a loss on what to do next, he checked Tom's phonebook. Finding a listing for a family doctor.

The doctor answered his phone halfway through the voice message. "Tomas Johnson!... Do you know what time it is?... Why are you calling me this late... This better be good, boy!..." called the man on the other side of the line.
"I do apologize, sir... My name is Michael J Cox... Tomas is with me, and he is in bad shape... I found your number on his phone... Are you Tomas Johnson's doctor, sir?..." said Michael rapidly. Adding: "He has collapsed on my bed... I can't find anything wrong... His heart rate and BP are normal... So is his temperature... But he keeps dropping off..." Michael had halve expected this slightly annoyed-sounding gentleman to start shouting again.

But he said calmly: "Where are you now?... I'll come over right away... Keep Tomas calm... He has an issue with nerves... Just stay with him... Roll him on his side in a stable position... He may throw up..."
"I am at Bush street number 12, sir... The front door is unlocked... But the road may not have been cleared yet... The fire department-..." started Michael to explain to the doctor.
"Not to worry... I know the place... And I know who you are too... Michael... I am right across the street... Let me grab my bag, and I'll be right over..." with an ominous grin in his voice.

Stunned, Michael scooped Tomas into his arms and brought him back to the master bedroom. Quickly covering Tom's modesty up with one of Mike's shorts and a dressing gown. He had grabbed a bucket as he put Tomas on his side. The doorbell rang as Michael pulled a sheet over Tomas.
This 50-year-old fit gentleman was dressed oddly for a doctor, thought Michael. He wore leather jeans, a denim jacket, and biker boots with buckles on the side. Mike realized this must be one of Steel's men. But he had his stethoscope and doctor's bag with him. Without saying much, the doc started to examine his patient. His bedside manner was harsh but efficient. Mike gave the doc the values of his measurements. 

Michael explained to the older biker dude: "We were having a bit of sex, but halfway through, Tommy collapsed... I caught him just in time... His eyes had rolled in the back of his head... And I knew something was major league wrong with him..."
"Ah... Yeah... I see what you mean, Michael..." said the doctor with an understanding expression on his face. It made Michael blush. With some smelling salts, the doc brought Tommy round. The doctor fatherly wiped the hair out of Tomas's sweaty face. Saying: "How are you doing, son?... Your friend called me... Luckily I was in the neighborhood..."

"Hi... Thanks... Yeah... it's been... Fuck!... This has been such a weird week... Henk..." replied a relieved Tomas to his doctor. Mike hadn't even noticed that the doctor had called Tomas son.
Tomas reached out an arm to Mikey and said: "I am so sorry..."
"Ha... Well, I should have known better... We were told to take it easy... So I guess I am the one to blame here... I figure this is more stress than anything else..." 

The doctor looked questioningly up at Michael as he rechecked the man's pulse. Michael explained: "Tommy has been subjected to all kinds of nastiness over the last eighteen months... That's enough for any strong man to buckle... Tommy thought it was all over... But then they came back... I just hope they caught all the arseholes..."
Still, Tomas and the doctor looked a bit odd at him. So Michael added: "Look, Tommy's dick wanted to celebrate... His brain said; NO WAY!... And his stomach was caught in the middle and was having none of it... Tommy's brain won... Putting an abrupt stop to it all... Stress... I figure..."

Tomas said: "Well, dad... What do you say?... Makes sense to me..." It was Michael that started to sway now. Hearing Tomas Johnson call the doctor 'dad' caught Mike by utter surprise. Stunned, he watched from one to the other.
"Ha... Yeah... It actually does, son... But why were you having sex with Michael in the first place?... And you never allowed ME to call you Tommy!..." said the doctor to Tomas.
Tomas grabbed Michael's left hand. Showing off his signet ring on Mikey's ring finger. "I asked him to marry me, dad..." Mikey blushed. He finally understood that Tomas's father was his family physician.

Doc gave Tomas a hug and got up off the bed. Standing toe to toe with Michael J Cox, he grabbed the boy's hands in his. Saying warmly: "Thanks... I was afraid Tom would never find a man like Robert Preston, to care for him again after that awful night... You will do... From what I heard and saw today... YOU WILL DO JUST FINE, MIKE!..." Tom's father had tears in his eyes as he also pulled Michael into a bone-crushing hug. 

As he looked into the bewildered eyes of Mike, he said apologetically: "Hi... We have not been properly introduced, have we?... I am Tomas's father... My name is Hendrikx Johnson... But most call me Henk... I am bi-sexual like most of Steel's guys... Riding and screwing around a little... Normal business guys by day... Mean asshole users by night..." Henk Johnson laughed softly.
Hendrikx Johnson saw his son slump back on the pillow. The man had a grin on his face and a hand down his shorts. "What you guys need is a little help sleeping..." said Doc Johnson. He had snapped open his doctor's bag and pulled out a bottle and two syringes. Tomas got a dose and was off to dreamland in a second. 

Mike looked at Doc Johnson. Saying: "But you're not my doctor... I just moved here and have not found a practice that will take me... I don't think I need help sleeping..."
"Well, let me give you my card and a note for my secretary... I am taking you on as a new patient... Even though my practice is full... I think it's best if you and Tomas visit me together, Michael... I can do some bloodwork and STD checks then... Just to make sure... Anyway... I'll sleep over at Hardy's... Call me when you wake up, son..." With that, he gestured to Mike to lay next to Tomas. Michael got a small jab in the arm, and he heard the doctor say: "The fire department and police will keep an eye on you two tonight... I'll let myself out... You just take care of my boy... Sleep well... We'll talk in the morning, Michael... Good night..."
Michael could only think: "... What a fucking weird adventure... Is my life ever getting back to norm-..." But as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out for the count.

The following day Mike awoke first. Tommy's morning wood had pitched a massive circus tent under the sheets. Rolling onto his side, Michael faced his sleeping prince. Watching Tommy's chest heave and fall. Even the breathy sounds Johnson made aroused Mike. Tomas's eyeballs twitched while he dreamed about something beautiful. Michael grinned as he lifted the sheets. Taking a sneaky peek at Johnson's groin. The ten-inch shaved rod leaked some precum, and his hips made small thrusting moves. Sometime during the night, Tomas had removed the boxer shorts.

Mike slid under the sheet. Taking the hot cock gently between his lips. Looking up to check that he had not woken Tomas up. The man needed his beauty sleep. Although more beautiful than this, Tommy could not become. Mikey's action had an effect, though. Tomas Johnson started to talk in his sleep. At first, he began to mutter and groan. But soon, Tomas started uttering words that made a little more sense. Mike squatted over Tomas's leg and licked the erect shaft. Tomas grunted angrily: "Take that!... Suck it... Fucking skinhead!..."

Apparently, Tomas was dreaming about one or more of his attackers. Wanting to hurt them as much as they had tormented Tomas these past eighteen months. Although he thrashed his legs - nearly kicking Mike in the nuts - he also became more self-assured. Dreaming he was gagging one of those bastards to death. Michael just smiled and went down over Tomas. Taking as much of the ten-inch pornstar dick as he could. Tomas called in his sleep: "Take it!... Gag on it... Asshole... I... Choke on it... Fucking bitch... Swallow!..."

Michael did gag and sputter a bit. But after a few minutes, he managed to press his lips around the base of the delicious cock. Listening to Tomas put the hurt on the skinhead in his dream. Feeling the hot cockhead twitch deep inside his throat. In fact, Mike was enjoying himself so much that he did not notice that his man had become quiet. Well, as still as you can get when your morning wood is taken care of this expertly. Tommy's grunts and dirty talk got replaced by hefty breathing and deep sighs of pleasure.

Not until Mike felt one of Tom's hands comb through his curly hair did the boy realize that sucking on Johnson's johnson had woken him up. Tomas lifted the sheet up and peered down his body. Seeing Micheal grinning back at him. Mike reached up. Letting his hands search Tomas's bare chest for his beautiful nipples. Tommy put both his hands on the back of Michael's head. Taking speed control of the boy's face. Mike sort of expected Tomas's next move. He relaxed his throat and let it happen.

Tomas arched his hips up and pressed Mikey down. Forcing himself into the back of the boy's throat. Holding him down while Tomas let out a primal groan. Tom pushed Michael off and allowed him to breathe. Mike took the shaft back inside, and Tomas tensed up. Once more, he held the boy deep over his iron rod for a moment. Mike pinched the nipples, and Tomas let go in a yelp of pain. The cock came to rest on Michael's tongue. And the boy started to twirl it gruffly around the glans. Sending waves of ecstasy through Tomas. It did not take long for Tomas to unload with force. Keeping a tight hold on Mikey's head. Michael could only swallow. He had to gobble hard because Tommy kept shooting stream after hot and sticky stream into his mouth.

After Tomas was spent, Michael looked up laughingly at his man. Tom's head lay back on the pillow. With a heaving chest and deep sighs, he muttered: "Morning Curly... That... Fuck... That was the best... Hahhh... Fucking... Wakeup call... Ever!..." Both Tomas's hands combed through Michael's hair. The sheet had completely obscured Mikey from his line of sight. "Damn, thanks, Curly... Get up here... Mikey..." Tomas released the hair and smacked his muscular pecs. Indicating he wanted the boy to lay on top of him.

Michael crawled up and lay on Tomas. His own hard cock hooked between Tommy's legs. The two kissed passionately, and Mike asked: "Hi... How are you feeling, Tommy?..."
"I am doing fine... It's been nice to sleep with a guy again... Especially as one as gorgeous as you... Stud... You do give the best wakeup calls..." gasped Tomas. "But... Hummm... I don't care much for Tommy... I prefer Tomas... Or Tom or TJ if you must... Sorry..."

"That's okay... But why not, honey?..." asked Michael, defiantly giving Tom another long kiss.
"Ah... My dad wanted to call me that... But he abused that when he introduced me to Steel's gangbangers gang... Telling them to make use of Tommy... This went on for two years... Tommy this... Tommy that... Take one for the team, Tommy... I hated the lot by the end... I left the gang... Never saw much of the bikers after that... Or my dad, for that matter... Got me a new family doctor... But I guess I forgot to change Henk's name on my phone... Thanks for looking out for me yesterday, though, Mikey..." said Tomas Johnson warmly.

"Ha... Well, I don't like anyone else but you to call me Mikey... You can stick with Mister Cox..." grinned Michael, a little naughty. "You were pretty far out of it yesterday... Should I give you your ring back, Tomas?..."
"NO, OF COURSE NOT!... Why do you ask?... I was fully with you when I asked you to marry me... Or don't you want me too?..." said a stunned Tomas.
"I just... Well... I don't want you to feel bad... I would understand if you don't want me that badly..." said a reddening Michael J Cox.

"Dude... I wanted you since I saw you blow Brandon in the truckstop toilets on Monday... You had no eyes for anyone else but him... I love you, Michael Jerry Cox... You're gorgeous, Mike... I really hope we get married at some point... But we can take our time..." said Tomas. Feeling his man shift on top of him. Mike put his arms behind Tom's knees and pulled them up.
At the same time, Mike moved back a few inches and parked his cockhead on Tom's back door. Their gazes locked, and Michael pushed. Nothing happened at first. But Tomas let out a deep sigh and felt how Mike filled his ass with one long, steady raw thrust inside. In fact, Mike did not stop pushing until his nuts prevented him from going in any deeper. He would have if he could. Michael was so freaking enamored with the muscular alpha pornstar Tomas. 

Tomas Johnson let out a scream and began to pant in time with the heavy fast thrusting of his man. The boy started to fuck Tom like a madman, like a jackrabbit. Faster and harder. Disregarding Tomas's pleas to take it easy. The alpha top Johnson wasn't used to getting laid like this. Tom had let Michael penetrate him a few days earlier. But that was much more sedate. 

Suddenly Mike stopped. His eyes wide, Michael thrust violently forward, stopped, and let out a nasty grunt. He opened the floodgate, pumping a hot load inside. A few short thrusts, then stopping again. Shooting another stream of seed into Tomas. Mike repeated this at least a dozen more times. He locked gazes with Tomas, and, tilting his head a little, Michael kissed his future husband. Slowly gyrating his hips. Fucking the cum filled ass. Enjoying the adrenaline-high they were experiencing.

When Michael regained his senses, he asked Tomas: "Do you really think I look nice?... I am nothing compared to you, TJ... Ha... I like calling you that... You're much more muscular than I am... I never could get my chest and arms to grow very much... I want bigger biceps before I get a fucking hot tattoo like my dad..." said Michael rather disappointed.
"You're no weakling, Michael... Ha, you can ask my ass... Damn Mike... You did something back there... And for those muscles... Go get a gym membership... A tat would look very butch on you... I know a guy..." said Tomas.
"I know... But the Kumsukba twins from next door are willing to train me..."

"That Vincent is okay... I guess... Isn't he working for Simons, though?... I don't like him or that idiot Steel... I HATE THEM!..." exclaimed Tomas.
"Not anymore... And... Fuck... I had Vinney, and his brother Conner, do me... Nice guys... Really... But you're much more my style..." blushed Michael.
"Shit... You let DJ Con-man fuck you?... but he is... He is... WOW... Conner is huge... How the hell did you manage that?..." said Tomas, astonished.

"Yeah, his is a bit big..." grinned Michael.
"A bit?... It's like getting fucked by a baseball bat with attitude... He sends many a guy to the hospital with that thing... But yeah... I also had them do me years ago, when they still road with Steels gangbangers... I HATE THOSE MEN..." shouted Tomas.
"Steel's okay, TJ... You just need to dominate him twice as hard as he does you... He tried to rape me when I went to look at this house... Thinking I was one of those religious nut-jobs... I got my own back, though... And... TJ... Hate is a big word... They did help capture those skinheads when they attacked Bush street... Without their help, we... we... well... I am just glad we have hard-cocked biker bodybuilder queers living here... And your dad is one of them!..."
This shut Tomas up completely. It made him think and worry.

Michael saw the wheels turning. Tomas was having an internal struggle again. Like the one that nearly became his undoing yesterday. So Michael snapped him out of it. "Stop it! TJ... You are doing it again!... Tomas, you're getting worked up over nothing... All is fine now... We just pick up the pieces and get on with our lives... Come on... Let's get showered and have some breakfast... Well, I stand corrected... Let's do lunch... We overslept..." said Michael looking at the clock.

It was nearly eleven when the boys came downstairs. They found Hendrikx Johnson and Roy Peterson in the kitchen. Tom's father and Roy grinned at what the boys were wearing. Mikey had slipped back into the leather jeans. Wearing a black skin-tight Nike T-shirt. He had put on the pointiest pair of black cowboy boots. The extra two inches made Mikey feel oddly butch. Tomas wore a pair of skin-tight faded jeans and a T-Bone polo shirt. Carrying a thick leather collar-less biker jacket with him downstairs. As well as the overnight bag Mikey had packed for him.

"Hey, guys... How are you doing?... You look a heck of a lot better..." grinned Tomas's father.
"Ha... Yeah... We slept well... Waking up was even better, though... This dude knows how to handle a woody..." said Tomas impressed.
"Ha... Don't give away all the secrets, love... But your ass felt really great..." beamed Michael at the men. "We continued where we left off yesterday evening... But... Not to be rude... What the fuck are you two doing, drinking coffee in my kitchen?..."

"I was getting a bit worried... So I asked sergeant Peterson to accompany me into your house, Michael... We were about to go upstairs when we heard the two of you were getting it on..." smirked Henk. "So we made you some lunch and coffee instead... We had a long night too... Roy was just filling me in..."
"Did you catch the entire group, Roy?... I think one got past me... I saw one pick up a party torch and set light to my dumpster... But I had to go to TJ... I am glad I did... He asked me to marry him, Roy..." smiled Michael.

"I heard... Congratulation guys... I knew it was a good idea to get you two together..." beamed sergeant Roy Peterson. "Yes, we found that guy... He sat light to a few shrubs and garden sheds down the road as well... But the fire caught up with him when the winds changed... He sent himself straight to hell... That dude was the second in command of the B I H-gang..." explained officer Peterson.

The four ate a quick lunch, going over the events of the last week. Praising Michael J Cox for all he had done. The boys locked up the house. When they made to leave to see the damage at the T-Bone, half the neighborhood was waiting for them outside. Tomas and Michael were treated like heroes. But Mike did not feel like one. Looking around, he saw the burned-out dumpster had gone. But so had his 750cc Yamaha dirtbike. Hardy Simons saw Cox's bewildered look and said: "The bike and BBQ stuff is in your garage, Michael... Damn kiddo... You're a tough act to follow... Do drop by my gym... I'd love to train you up a bit..."

"Thanks... But I got enough equipment in my basement... And Vincent has promised to train me... The kickboxing lessons I took in high school came in handy, though... We showed those bastards not to fuck with us, didn't we?..." said Mike proudly. Receiving a warm beaming smile from Vincent and Conner Kumsukba.

"Yeah... Feel free to ride with us, Mikey..." said Steel.
"Thanks for the offer, Rick... But... Well... I don't think I will... I much rather ride with my fiancee and the Kumsukba's... Look, Tomas has asked me to marry him..." said Michael. Flicking TJ's signet ring as he held up his hand. The gathered neighbors started to applaud and congratulate the two. Pushing the disheartened Simons and Steel to the back. It was clear those two were not happy getting sidetracked like that.

Mike opened the garage door and took two small flags out. Michael placed an American flag on one side of the front door. And a leather Pride flag on the other side. This was to the delight of all neighbors. It didn't matter at that moment whether they were gay or heterosexual. With Michael's help, they survived the night together. And that creates a bond, regardless. 

Tomas was retelling his and Michael's stories of last night. Mike grabbed Tomas away from the neighbors, though. Telling TJ, they needed to check out the T-Bone restaurant. It appeared Tomas Johnson had forgotten all about his workplace or his staff. Together they drove off in Michaels hot-hatchback. Tom's phone had dozens of text and voicemail messages. Mainly from Peter, the T-Bone's chef. Telling him all was okay at the restaurant.

Mike and TJ arrived at their destination around one o'clock. They drove around the parking lot. Viewing the carnage the fires had caused. Half a dozen burned-out trailers remained near the explosion site. The motel's short side was burned, but everything else seemed okay apart from a boatload of broken windows. This was to the great relief of Tomas Johnson. He had feared much worse. Tomas spotted chef Peter talking to a team of insurers and jumped out of the car. Mike just called after him that he would take a piss. The boy needed to go since he had stepped out the door thirty minutes ago.

Mike ran into the trucker's side of the restroom. He stepped into a large toilet stall with a convenient little table and washbasin. Noticing an oval glory hole in the partition wall next to the urinal piss troth on the other side. Mikey could not help himself, glancing every now and then down to the hole to see who was on the other side. Seeing the tips of the workboots from a guy taking particular interest in Michael. Mike pissed like a racehorse. Making the man on the other side chortle. 

At some point, Michael noticed a pair of lips lustfully smacking from the other side of the partition wall. And without giving it a second thought, Mike thrust his half-hard member through the hole. The shaved eight-inch slender boyish pecker, with very plumb balls, got gobbled up and sucked off expertly. Apparently, the trucker had quite some experience with this sort of thing. The filthy cock-sucker had his nose planted firmly into Michael's shaved pubes. 

The man was skillfully gagging himself over Mikey's cock, taking it deep down his throat. Stroking the boy's shaved balls with one hand and caressing Michaels' sexy high-heeled pointy boots with the other. The worshiping strokes of hands and lips brought Mike to a boiling point he had seldomly experienced. This was so dirty, so wrong, but oh so fucking lovely! With a grunt and no warning, he thrust violently forward and unloaded directly in the trucker's dirty gurgling mouth.

The trucker had pulled himself free of this unexpected onslaught. Getting his face showered with the boy's cum. After he got out of the cubical, Michael watched the cum covered trucker for a moment. Feeling extremely powerful and dominant. The trucker lay gasping for breath on the floor in front of the metal piss troth. When Mike made to leave the bathroom, he brutally said: "Thanks, fucker, I needed that..."
"Pleasure!... Cum again?..." grinned the soiled trucker jokingly as he wiped the cum from his face and chin.
"Perhaps..." said Michael seductively, inspecting his clothes as he walked out of the bathroom. 

He checked the damage on the outside of the bar and restaurant part of the complex. It didn't look that bad. But that was primarily because all the sun blinds were still drawn. You could not see the broken windows. Some of the truckers had returned after yesterday's evacuations. They were heading into the restaurant for lunch. Talking lively with each other. 

One of them walked next to Mike and put an arm around the boy. "Hey, little brother... Damn, don't you look sexy... Heard you had a lovely evening... Did you enjoy it?..." It was Brandon. He had returned from his delivery run and wanted some lunch.
"God,... NO... It was horrible... Well, some of it was... But... But... Oh, Brandon... TJ put a ring on it... He actually asked me to marry him..." stammered Mike.
"I've heard, little bro... Congratulations... It was meant to be..." said Brandon. Squeezing his best mate tighter to him. "Roy told me all about it just now on the phone... He is only pissed off that he can't see me until tonight... Roy has to work..." Sighed the 32-year-old Brandon with a heavy heart.

The two friends walked into the restaurant, where they got greeted with applause from the T-Bone staff. The head chef greeted the two and walked out of the kitchen. To everyone's surprise, he kissed the 23-year-old Michael J Cox full on the lips. Letting his hands grab Mike's buttocks. In Peter's eyes, Michael could do nothing wrong. Tomas tapped Peter on the shoulder, and the man looked up at his boss. His face blushed, and Peter started to apologize profusely. But Michael had seen something that infuriated him much more. He stomped off to the other side of the restaurant.

In a booth, next to the only window pane that had not shattered, sat Roy Peterson. Flirting openly with a familiar-looking trucker. What angered Michael was that Roy told his boyfriend, Brandon, he was working. However, there he sat, dressed in a casual leather jacket with his arm around the guy. Mike knew Brandon and Roy had an open relationship. But lying to Brandon? No, that did not fly with Michael J Cox.

Both men looked up from their lunch in surprise when Michael shouted angrily: "Roy Fucking Peterson!... Why are you flirting with that guy?... You've told your boyfriend you needed to work until later today... And here you are... What the fuck do you think-..." But Michael stopped himself. Roy did not have tattoos like this guy. Come to think of it, Roy did not even have a nose ring like this trucker. And up close, the man he was berating looked much younger than Roy. 

"Get lost, kid... Can't you see I am having lunch with my husband?..." said the spitting image of Roy Peterson. He had the same shaped face and bald head as Roy. Even his mannerisms were the same. But he dressed much more butchly than the sergeant on his day off. When Mike's eyes flickered over to the guy next to him, he got weak in the knees. Was it him? Michael J Cox could not be sure. He had to sit down and gather his thoughts. It could not be him! It simply could not be, thought Michael!

"What do you think you're doing, bro?..." said the ebony muscle god aggressively. Taking his arm off the other trucker and plunging it inside the leather jacket. Luckily Brandon and Tom had wandered over. Alarmed by the commotion.
Brandon said: "Yo, Ronald calm the fuck down... No need to take out your gun... Michael... This is Ron Peterson, Roy's younger brother... And that buff bastard is Ox... Scoot over, guys... Give Tomas and me a seat..." The confusion was complete. But at least they were getting some answers now. Brandon introduced Michael: "This dude is my best friend... And you know Tomas Johnson..."

"And that gives him the right to insult us, does it?..." said the other trucker called Ox. His half-unbuttoned frayed check shirt had very short sleeves. You could see his tattooed right arm and pec. This tattoo belonged to his father, thought Mike in shock. But Michael had been out of touch with him for so long that he had almost forgotten what he looked like. Though when he spoke, Mikey was sure. This was his father. Only the man had not yet realized that he was sitting opposite his grown-up son. So he called: "What the hell are you grinning about... Slugger?..."

Now Michael started to laugh out loud. He had not been called Slugger in decades. He put his hand in the back pocket of his leather jeans. Taking his driver's license from his wallet. When he pulled his wallet out, Ronald Peterson pulled out his Smith&Wesson. Pointing the handgun straight into Michael's face. Unperturbed the boy lay the license on the table. Moving it slowly toward the guy opposite him. Taking no notice of the shocked reactions of the people in the restaurant.
Saying: "Hi... Dad... I didn't expect to see you here... You look nice... Long time, no see..."
Mike shifted his attention to Ronald Peterson. Announcing: "You can put that thing away... My name is Michael Jeremiah Cox... Oscar is my father... That will make you my stepdad, I guess... Sorry about the confusion... But I thought you were sergeant Roy Peterson..." Oscar could not believe his ears.

All the guys in the booth sat looking in wonderment at each other. But both Michael and Ox had scooted closer. Were it not for the tears in both men's eyes, this would have been a fairytale ending. They were so happily bewildered that the father and son did not know what to say or do. So they settled on a most endearing hug. Oscar let his hand rest on the inside of Michael's leather-clad thigh. Softly stroking it up and down. 

Oscar could not keep his eyes off Michael. The trucker liked what he saw. His boy had grown into a hunking stud of a man. Even the boy's dress sense pleased him. It made his eyes glint. Mike twisted his father's head and kissed his stubbly cheek, saying: "God, I missed you, dad!... Why did you stop calling?... I tried to call you... But your phone was switched off..."

"Awhhh... Man... I got carted off to jail... And they... 'lost' my phone... I had no other way of reaching out to you, Mikey... I am so sorry... The state did not want to give me your phone number or new foster address when I got out... I am so sorry... But how do you know Brandon?..." said Oscar.

"Brandy is my best friend... Known him since I was fifteen... He taught me everything I needed to know about sex with men..." said Michael. Making Brandon flush scarlet. "Ha... But you know what's weird... Your husband's brother and Brandon are lovers... And Tomas and I... Well, here,... Look at this... TJ proposed to me yesterday... And I said YES!..."

Roy Peterson and the Kumsukba twinks had walked inside the T-Bone. Wanting to see the damage for themselves. They had overheard Mike speak. Roy knelt behind his younger brother. Play choking him from the booth behind the group. Saying: "But this love triangle gets even weirder, guys... The Kumsukba twins, your neighbors, are our cousins... Their mom married a Nigerian... However, when he left, they came to live in the USA... Growing up along with Ronny and myself... Living on the same street... So we are one big happy family... Twisted... Gay... But happy... So welcome to the family Mike..." Grinned Roy Peterson dirty.

Oscar had found his voice again. Saying to the group: "Damn... It's good to see you guys again... I think... We should... Maybe... If you want..." But Oscar Cox could not formulate what he wanted to say.
"I think what my hubby wants to say is... We need to celebrate... You guys have so much to talk about... And kid... Sorry about just now... I am pretty protective of our privacy..."
"Don't worry about it, stepdaddy..." laughed Michael. "We all have our issues... I can't stand it when people try to abuse me... I get all defiant and aggressive too... But a celebration sounds great... We have a lot to be thankful for..."

"Correction... We have a lot to thank YOU for, Mike... Without your help, we would not have caught those skinhead bastards and their religious overlords..." said sergeant Roy Peterson. "Hardy is opening up his nightclub on Saturday... Could we get together then?... Get to know how defiant you really are... Mikey..." sniggered Roy nastily. Instantly the men started making plans.

Officer Peterson left his younger brother, Ronald, and the rest. Saying he had to get back to the station. Telling Roy to stop waving his gun around. Michael let out a booming laugh and called: "Well, let him unzip and wave that other gun around... That one I don't mind so much..." The group started rolling on the floor with laughter. It was enough to get all the guys in the mood for more. Even Ox got in on the action. Moving his hand from the inside of Michael's thigh to the boy's bulge. Cupping a good feel of his son. Michael just let him as he kissed his father full on the mouth. Keeping a close eye on Ronald Peterson. But Ron did not seem to mind. All he wanted was a bit of action himself. 

Michael reached across his father's lap to grope Ronald's cock and balls. The bald ebony trucker rolled his eyes back and let the boy do his thing. Ronald even unzipped his fly and guided Mike's hand inside. Ron Peterson's black dick felt shorter but broader than his older brother's. And Mike muttered: "Nice gearstick, stepdaddy... Dad?... Can I play with that one sometimes?..." 

Oscar looked at what Michael's hand was doing. He watched his boy's fist grasp his husband's cock.
Saying: "Yeah... I think I would like to see that..." This was to the surprise of Ronald.
But he just warmly muttered: "Kinky... I can do two Cox's at the same time..." As his eyes lit up with malicious horniness. "It's a date!..."

< Continued in chapter 8 >

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And if your hands are not too dirty from all the spunk! ;-)

(C) StrykerJ - 09-2022