Still new enough to gay life to be anxious about my own appeal to other men, I was careful to cultivate the image of a truly hot stud, with sleekly masculine good looks and a well-groomed mane of dark blond hair and a mustache. I was butch, with a nice body. So there I was, young and eager and as yet unjaded in my attitude toward gay sex. And there I was—definitely available!
My two admirers were considerably older than I was, but they were pretty hot numbers in their own right. In fact, I knew quite a lot about them—police department gossip, to say nothing of local gay gossip, being what it was.
I knew, for example, that Manuel had never been married, while his partner Howard, who was two or three years older than he, was divorced. Howard had teenaged children who lived with their mother. Looking at them, I once again wondered how much truth there was in the rumor to the effect that both cops were “members of the fraternity.” If they were gay, they were fairly discreet about it, both on and off the job. My speculations were now more than casual. I was already trying to decide if I had any real chance of playing around with these guys.
Both men were attractive, to my way of thinking. Howard was the darker of the two, slightly stocky but muscular and agile, with a magnificently chiseled profile and thick dark brown hair—streaked at the temples with strands of silver grey—framing a warmly tanned face in which large, brooding dark eyes were the most striking feature.
His gaze was frank and direct whenever precinct business was being discussed, but during more intimate conversations he had a curious habit of looking at the person he was talking to through half-lowered eyelids, which gave him a strangely introspective and evasive, sexually provocative look.
His partner was more outgoing, perhaps less “sexy” in a stereotyped sense, but pleasant enough in appearance and manner. Manny—which was the nickname most people called him by—was Hispanic, but didn’t look it. He was a dark blond, with honey-colored hair and blue eyes. He was bilingual in English and Spanish, which was an advantage on the job. He spoke English in a cultivated manner, as though he’d attended prep school. Maybe he had, for all I knew. It was rumored that he came from a prominent family which had initially disapproved of his going into police work. I could relate—if not to the prominence, to the disapproval.
Given the opportunity, I certainly wouldn’t throw either man out of my bed.
For the first time, in fact, I found myself speculating about the two sexy partners as potential sex partners—and for me, not just for each other. Their maturity, far from lessening their attractiveness for me, only increased it.
They had gym-tightened muscles, further toned by rigorous jogging and swimming, flawless skins, and—according to the gossip circulated by those of my acquaintances who claimed to have been in a position to find out—huge cocks, which they supposedly weren’t shy about sharing with other attractive gay men.
When Howard returned my smile from across the room, I picked up my snifter of brandy and walked toward him and Manuel.
“Thanks for the drink, Petrie,” I said shyly.
“Don’t mention it, Jim. Sit down. And call me Howard, for God’s sake. You remember Jim Melton, don’t you, Manny?”
The other police officer grinned. “Sure. Not that I’d mind getting to know him a lot better!”
I didn’t take his flattery of me at all seriously, at first. I assumed that he was just teasing me—setting me up for a fall. I was sure to find myself on the receiving end of a put-down before long.
“You guys ought to remember me,” I dared to suggest. “You used to hassle me, all the time.”
“Did we?” Manny asked, looking all innocence.
“Absolutely,” I insisted. “When I first joined the precinct, you two made my life miserable.”
Howard spoke up. “Well, if we did, it was just our way of making you feel at home. A rookie’s life is supposed to be miserable. That saves him from getting too complaisant, which can be dangerous.”
Over our drinks, we three men had a pleasantly casual, intimate conversation, mostly about our colleagues and our work. Howard, watching me with an enigmatic smile, excited my curiosity. I wondered what he was thinking, and I hoped that he was telling himself that he had rarely seen a more attractive number patronize this particular bar.
I was certainly dressed for cruising.
I’d gone home and changed out of my uniform before hitting the bars, and now I wore jeans and a denim work shirt, both of which were faded a pale blue from repeated washings and frayed at the seams and edges. The shirt was unbuttoned all the way down the front, and from certain angles, the large brown nipples that crowned my smoothly tanned pecs were clearly visible.
My jeans were snug enough in the crotch and ass to serve as an ideal bar-cruising outfit, and even the scuffed running shoes on my feet projected a casual sexual readiness.
Howard must have found himself not-so-idly wondering if I was as good in bed as my frank manner and the veiled glances I kept giving him seemed to promise I might be. The handsome cop seemed to be trying, and failing, to prevent a lewd smile from curling his lips. I hoped he was thinking about some of the things he and his partner could do with such an accommodating young rookie as myself.
It was though the other two men could read my dirty mind.
Quickly, the conversation got around to the topic of sex, and—inevitably—to gay sex and our personal experiences. They insisted on treating me to a second brandy, which loosened my tongue. I described a hot porno movie I’d recently seen on a DVD, and recommended it warmly to the two other men. I’d gotten particularly excited, I admitted, by the scenes in which one actor had sex with two others at once—taking one guy’s cock up his ass while he sucked on the other’s dick, and so on.
I’d spoken without thinking. It never occurred to me that my two fellow cops might assume I was dropping a strong hint about how I might like the evening to end.
“Hell, I’m sure Manny and I could give as good a performance in front of a camera as any of those porno actors do, even at our age,” Howard boasted, shocking me slightly with his frankness. He noticed my reaction. “Christ, Jim, I hope you’re not surprised because I have sex with Manny sometimes? A sophisticated young guy like you, nervous about a little gay action? We get into threesomes all the time with men who are turned on by the idea of tricking with both of us at once. I like it. Two gorgeous men in bed with me at the same time. It’s just great, twice as much fun as one-on-one,” Howard assured me, and he laughed.
Manny turned his cool blue eyes on me to see how I was taking this first far-from-delicate hint that he and his partner had an open relationship, and might be interested in including a third man in their activities.
I could feel my face turning even redder than my drink had flushed me, but I flattered myself that the color was rather becoming to me. I forced myself to join in Howard’s laughter, but I avoided both men’s eyes for a moment in some embarrassment. Despite my discomfort, though, I found the topic too tantalizing to evade.
“Well, I don’t know much about that sort of thing,” I said in a tone which betrayed, even to my own ears, my sudden curiosity to know more—much more! “All of my experiences so far have been one-on-one, as you put it. I’ve never gotten into any kind of a group sex scene.”
“You’re kidding!” Manny exclaimed. “I thought all guys your age are into the orgy scene.”
“Not me.”
“You don’t have anything against the idea, do you?” Manny asked.
“No. I’ve never been invited to get into anything like that. That’s all.”
I paused, startled, when Howard casually leaned over the table and kissed me on the lips, then put his hand on my throat, caressed it, and slid it down inside my shirt, rubbing my bare chest. Howard stroked each of my nipples in turn, until they both got hard and pointed and hot. Gasping, I made a weak gesture of resistance, putting my hand on Howard’s forearm and squirming in my seat.
My legs were spread and the touch of
the foxy older guy’s warm hand on my nipples had given me an instantaneous, unmistakable hard-on.
“You like that, don’t you, rookie?” Howard taunted me, his thumb and forefinger coaxing first one large tit into erection, then the other.
I looked helplessly at Manny, who was smiling. “It’s all right,” I said, with an attempt at off-handedness. “I don’t dislike it. But I don’t think we ought to be fooling around like this in here. In public, you know? And this isn’t just any bar. This is the Tudor. All the other cops hang out here.”
Howard shrugged. “Nobody cares what goes on here in a dark booth. And hell, everybody at work knows we’re gay.”
“They don’t all know I’m gay,” I pointed out.
“Not yet,” Howard said. “Come out of the closet, kid. You’ll have more fun.”
He was still speaking when I choked back a gasp because Manny’s big hand abruptly attacked my crotch under the table, pressing right between my firm, rounded thighs that bulged inside my tight jeans.
It was as though the man’s fingers were white-hot, burning my flesh, as they tugged down my zipper and dug inside the opened fly, his fingers slipping underneath the edge of the thin cotton briefs I wore and touching the sweat-moistened warmth and sensitivity of my cock and balls.
He plunged his curious, demanding hand further inside my jeans and groped me, hard. I hadn’t been manipulated like this, in public, before and there was something shocking—perverse, even—about permitting another man such intimacies that excited me terribly.
As that wily, experienced hand continued to stroke and stimulate my genitals, transforming my groin into a seething hotbed of sexual need, I found myself responding—enjoying it, and wanting it, wanting more.
“Relax,” he whispered, as I squirmed wildly under his touch. “Nobody can see what’s going on under the table.” Then, “Our friend’s got nice meat,” Manny reported for his partner’s benefit.
Howard was watching our every movement with his usual, deceptive icy objectivity. Suddenly, he stood up. “Let’s go,” he suggested. “I’m ready…and it looks like our friend Jim is, too.”
I had to stuff my hard-on back inside my pants, zip up, and stumble out of the Tudor with my erection no doubt fully visible shoved down one leg of my pants. I suppose this, too, was an initiation rite of sorts.
With my pulse pounding with lust, I followed the other two cops’ car to a house in the suburbs.
“Which of you guys lives here?” I asked, as we went toward the front door. I felt an obligation to make small talk, although my mouth felt dry.
“We both do,” Howard said. “We’re housemates.”
Manny laughed. “That’s one word for it.”
We were barely inside the front door before Manny started in on me again. I groaned as a sudden need for sex—for physical release of any kind, no matter how wantonly perverse—gripped and engulfed me. I knew I was losing all self-control. And I suspected that Manny was horny enough to take full advantage of the fact.
The younger of the two stud partners kissed me on the lips and I thrilled to the arousing sensation of another guy’s tongue sliding deep into my mouth. Manny had pulled my shirt wide open with his hands, and now he was working it down over my shoulders and biceps to bare my torso completely. He ran his fingers over my chest as I kissed him back passionately, my own hands groping for my blond seducer’s body.
Manny was undressing me quite dexterously. I just let him do it, vaguely ashamed by the situation I’d allowed myself to get into, yet eager to experience the novelty of sex with more than one partner at a time. My shirt and pants were soon gone and I was naked except for my briefs.
I glanced nervously at Howard, whose dark brooding eyes bored into mine even as he nodded in reassurance. His ironic detachment had melted into an expression of pure, naked lust that inflamed me even more than Manny’s hand stuffed down into my underpants, groping my hard-on, did.
My flesh now burned to experience Howard’s touch, as well. I wanted to make it with both of the sexy gay officers. But first, some strange instinct told me, I would have to pass a test—to be initiated into pleasure by Manny alone, before the surprisingly less aggressive Howard joined in.
“I, uh, I think we’d better go into your bedroom,” I pleaded, tucking my erection back inside my briefs in a gesture of quite superfluous modesty.
“Sure.” Manny stripped casually, flinging his clothes on the floor as he led the way, his body swaying with an unmistakably sexual provocation.
It was dark and cool in his bedroom, and I quickly got onto the mattress and huddled up against the headboard of the large double bed, drawing the sheet up to my chest as I waited, trembling with excitement. I felt, I realized with a flash of amusement that helped to calm me down, exactly like a hospital patient, naked in an examining room, waiting for the doctor to join him.
Manny peeled down his underpants, taking his time, watching and enjoying my reaction as he bared his magnificently proportioned body for my inspection—and approval. I felt a flush of pride at the confirmation that I had an even nicer ass than Manny’s, which was saying a lot. I also realized that the two of us were about evenly matched in the cock-size department.
Naked, his own erection jutting out from the blond-furred base of his groin, Manny slithered onto the bed and tore the sheet from my grasp.
“Give me that and let’s see what you’ve got,” he commanded teasingly. “Don’t be shy! We’re all grown men, remember. Nothing you’ve got to show us is likely to surprise either of us!”
“I’m so embarrassed,” I had to admit. “I can’t imagine why. I’m not usually like this with the guys I have sex with. I really do want you, both of you—but I’m kind of uptight.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of that. You’ll get over it fast,” my new sexual partner promised, laughing. “Just relax. And that’s an order, rookie!”
Howard now came into the bedroom, as calmly as though the three of us had retired into the bedroom to sleep instead of to suck and fuck. For a sinking moment, I wondered if perhaps the handsome older cop wasn’t really turned on by me. Maybe I wasn’t Howard’s type, and he was just humoring Manny.
But then Howard began to strip, as unselfconsciously as if he was alone in the room, and my heart pounded as I stared at the superbly muscled body emerging from the discarded clothes. It was then that I discovered that the burly cop had a secret. Howard had on that peculiar European underwear made out of very thin, synthetic silk fabric. Both the bikini underpants and the tank top were virtually transparent—impractical as covering, but incredibly erotic to look at!
The underpants were stuffed with his soft cock, which lay tucked up toward Howard’s navel like an enormous dark pink sausage. His balls were the size of two eggs, and a jungle of dark-blond pubic hair filled the pouch of the underpants and was visible through it. The tank top stretched across his heavy chest, his nipples dark through the transparent material, his pecs coated with a soft pelt of hair.
Howard settled himself comfortably in a black leather armchair near the foot of the bed, disappointing my expectation that he would join us on the bed, where I’d be able to touch him as well as just look at him. Then, spreading his muscular bare legs to give me an even better view of his well-packed bikini briefs, he watched his partner and me with an almost insulting nonchalance.
“Okay,” he said. “Start the show. I like to watch,” he added, confirming my suspicion. “For now.” He smiled at me.
Suddenly I was excited by the idea of performing in front of Howard, of putting on a shameless gay sex act with Manny to turn on the other butch cop. When Manny embraced me I responded eagerly, aroused by the younger partner’s masculine bulk and hard muscularity. I caressed Manny’s firm buttocks, his stomach and thighs. We kissed again and again, our tongues darting deep into each other’s mouths.
“I want to suck you, Jim,” Manny breathed seductively. “Put your cock in my mouth!”
; “You bet! But I want to satisfy you, too—I want to go down on your cock. Or do whatever else you want me to do,” I protested.
“Yeah? Well, you just go ahead and do whatever you like—whatever you enjoy doing in bed,” Manny told me. “I’d love it, though, if you’d touch me down there first. If you’d kiss and lick me all over my crotch, my balls, my dick. If you’d eat my hot meat and get ready to swallow down my cum while I blow you!”
Talk about an invitation that was too good to refuse! I didn’t hesitate. I went for it!
As we two naked men tumbled onto the bed in a wanton display of interlocking limbs and tangling hair, Howard shifted in his seat and rubbed his hand over the growing bulge in his revealing underpants. I suspected that he was getting off as much on the prospect of watching me lose my innocence in regard to casual, three-way sex as he was by the thought of soon enjoying my tightly muscled body himself.
Chapter Ten
Partners in Lust
Later, when I got to know both men better, Howard admitted to me in so many words that he had a rather cold-blooded attitude toward sex. Getting his rocks off on a regular basis was as necessary to him as food or sleep, but he generally took pains, like a true gourmet, to ensure that the erotic feast would be palatable as well as merely nourishing. And so, that night, he had the patience to allow his lover to warm me up thoroughly before Manny served me up to him on a plate, so to speak.
My own responses on that first night were anything but cold-blooded or objective, though. I was lost in a maze of new and thrilling physical and emotional sensations as the much more experienced Manny used my body in ways I might have heard or read about, but hadn’t dared to try out with most of my tricks, who preferred straightforward, no-nonsense fucking and sucking.
A Thing for Cops Page 10
