This is the second chapter of “The Policeman,” recently begun on Nifty. As earlier mentioned, it contains bisexuality and sexual acts involving adults and under-age minors, both related and non-related, in accordance with the shared story preferences of the authors. If any of this is objectionable to you, you might like to leave and go to another story.
This story is a work of fiction. Some persons and events are based on actual ones, but even those have been so significantly changed that nothing in this story should be read as anything but fictional.
Feedback, which is desired and appreciated, can be sent to “Brad Gillespie” at the address RBZ followed by the digits 3141 at gmail.com. Please put the story title in the subject line. But don't be surprised if the name on the responses is different. That e-mail account is under a different pseudonym than the one I used to write this story.
Feedback to “Tucson Daddy” can be sent to lannyr99 at yahoo.com.
And remember, Nifty relies on donations to help them stay in operation. If you want to help, you can donate by going to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.
Brian lived with his beautiful and loving wife, Donna, and their 10-year-old son, Oliver, in a nice neighborhood in a mid-sized town in Iowa for 11 years. They knew their neighbors and kept their home looking good, as did all the others on their block. A middle-class family in a middle-class home on a middle-class block. Who could ask for anything more?
Brian and Donna met at Kennedy High School on the first day of their senior year. True, they had seen each other, but only in passing; they ran with different crowds. Brian's was one with those who always got top grades and did well with their presentations at the annual science fair. Donna's group was less structured, just a group of girls she'd known forever.
She was a pretty, long-haired brunette, with dancing hazel eyes and a great figure; plenty to attract the eyes of a boy. In spite of many dates with some of the best looking boys in her class, she rarely went out with the same one more than twice. As she told one of her close friends, “Once they get a first kiss on the first date, all they want is to get into my panties or have me suck their cocks. Yuck!”
Many girls would have happily done those very things to satisfy a hot guy and keep his continued attention, but not Donna. She wanted more. The kind of “more” she was looking for were boys with a future, like those on the debate team, like, oh…, Brian. She set him as her goal, and carefully planned. When she learned that he was going to be at a certain party, she arranged to be there too.
Her timing was perfect, for Brian had recently confided that he wanted to find a girl friend. His interest would be high, and she knew just the way to get it. It had been a long time since she had willingly sucked a boy to completion; in a way, she missed it. This would be her chance to score.
Don't get the idea that Brian is a schlep. Far from it! He was over 6 feet, with a well-developed body, thanks to the many sports he played, such as being captain of his soccer team. He was good-looking enough, with dark hair and eyes. Outgoing, he was popular at school.
The only speed bump on his happy road was a sudden lack of a dating partner. His girl friend had been lured away by some dick-headed jock, leaving him not desperate, but very unhappy. He'd told a friend of this situation. Did he know of some girl who might be available? The guy he'd asked happened to be the boy friend of one of Donna's close friends. She hinted, between mouthfuls of his cock, that he should convince Brian to attend the party next week. He was happy to agree.
The party was a smashing suck-sess for both of them. Brian found in Donna not only a pretty girl with a great body, but one who really knew how to get through to a boy's heart. He was wowed by this exuberant girl he'd barely noticed before. How is it that she could appear at this depressing moment in his social life and promise to renew it? He regretted not meeting this saving angel before.
They'd run into each other, not quite as accidentally as Brian had thought. Poor boy! He was being reeled in by a very determined girl. Donna's constant watching of him, waiting for the right moment. He'd had a couple of drinks. Enough to give him a buzz, and make him susceptible to a girl's charms. The music was just right for a slow dance. And who should he be standing next to when it started? “Hi, want to dance?” she'd ask as demurely as she could.
“Uhm, sure,” was his response. As they danced, she pressed her breasts against his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. When she felt his cock pressing against her belly, she suggested they go someplace more private.
In his car they had kissed slowly at first, then more passionately. Donna gave him free range of her body north of her waist. When he moaned out how desperate he was, how hot and excited he was, Donna showed him her alternative, and preferred route to relief. She didn't just pull out his cock, drop her mouth over it and suck, suck, suck while stroking it. No, siree. Donna wanted him to know he was special, with the implied promise that even more exciting times were ahead.
She talked to him sympathetically about his condition, while running her hand over his throbbing bulge. “You poor baby,” she whispered seductively. “I don't want you to suffer. Can I help?”
Brian was so happy that she understood. Would she do anything about it? “Oh, yeah, Donna, honey, if you would just…”
He didn't finish that thought. She was slowly lowering his zipper, then her hand reached inside to rest on his aching bulge. “Mmm…,” she whispered. “It's sooo big!”
What boy doesn't like to hear a girl tell him that his cock is biiiiig? Girls just seem to know how to tell a boy just what he wants to hear; Brian was no exception. He was doomed, and the spider was ready to strike. She pulled his hard prick out of its nest of cloth, and looked at it breathlessly. “Oh, Brian, I don't know if I can get it into my mouth. It's so big!” she said, dragging out the words slowly.
Brian was growing desperate. “Won't you try? Please,” he begged.
Being the sweet and very accommodating girl that she was, she agreed. When she had finished sucking him to completion and swallowing his four jets of semen, she smiled at him, put his soft dong away, and said, “That was wonderful! I sure like your cum.” Brian was hers.
After their high school graduation, he proposed marriage, which she happily accepted. The wedding was held at the end of the summer. They barely had time for a one-week honeymoon at Disneyland before they both went off to the university. Four years later, they both graduated. Brian accepted a job with a local and growing electronics company, while Donna settled into the happy life of a pregnant stay-at-home wife. Nine months later, Oliver was born to a proud and beaming couple.
There was no doubt that their son was loved completely. He was Brian's pride and joy. Brian helped Donna with all the baby stuff like changing diapers and giving him baths. This not only freed her from much of the tedious care, but let Brian and Oliver bond.
Each time he held his son, he felt such love for him. He wanted to be the father to Oliver as much as his father had been to him. So he willingly plunged into being a responsible co-parent. Changing a diaper, which many men would have eschewed, was nothing to Brian. He loved every chance to touch his son in every way.
One evening, as he knelt by the bathtub giving three-year-old Oliver his bath, he noticed that after he washed Oliver's tiny penis, it grew into a full-fledged erection. Each time he ran the washcloth over it, Oliver looked up at him and said, “Daddy, that feels good.” Brian was pleased to realize that the hand that gave his son a hard-on was his.
It became a ritual they followed with each bath. Since the first time it had happened, Brian thought about it with growing frequency, an urge rising inside him to take it further. Just as his own father had done with him, a father-son tradition. But during that fateful evening bath, just as Brian was about to take the step that his father had which would bring both him and Oliver even greater pleasure, Donna's knock sounded at the door, with Brian's mouth only inches from its goal. “Honey, are you and Oliver almost finished? You've been in there a long time.”
His heart nearly stopped. “Yes,” he'd replied. “Just getting him out.” His hands were shaking from the impact of what he had been about to do, he was torn at that instant between the desire to finish and the fear of discovery. He swore it would never happen again. Whatever was he thinking? The more he questioned himself, the more disgusted he felt at his dark desires. Desires his father had planted in him and helped flourish. He didn't recall any of those times. They had been pushed away, covered by age and fear. Eight minutes later, Oliver was dry, in his pajamas, and nestled in his mother's arms.
As much as Brian wanted to help in every aspect of Oliver's life, the one thing he could not do was feeding him. This was Donna's bailiwick. He had watched her feed their son many times. At first it was only out of curiosity. What changed was the time his cock began to rise as he looked at this tender scene. “Idiot!” he thought to himself. Yet the thought returned again and again, until that one moment when he took the plunge and asked Donna if he could join Oliver. That moment had burned into his memory and remained as clear now as the day it happened.
One morning, as they lay in bed with Oliver nursing on Donna's right breast, Brian studied the pair. Donna's face was radiant, as she looked at her son taking her nipple to suckle her milk.
“Honey,” Brian tentatively asked.
“Yes,” she said, not taking her eyes off of Oliver.
“Would you mind if I…. uhm…,” he began.
Her face turned toward him and she nodded, placing her hand beneath her breast, offering it to him. “Go ahead, honey. You can have this one.”
As his lips closed around her large nipple, she sighed, placing her hand behind his head. “Oh! So good! I never thought…” Brian was happy to make his wife feel this good and at the same time taste what she was feeding Oliver.
“Not bad,” his inquiring mind thought. His cock thought so too, and began to grow. It was making him horny! So he sucked until Donna cried out, her body stiffening, then shuddered. After a moment, she relaxed.
Brian raised his head, alarmed. “What, Donna! What is it? Did I hurt you?”
She looked at him even more radiantly. “Hurt me?” She said smiling. “Honey, I just had an experience so hot that it felt like an orgasm.”
He stared at her. “An orgasm?”
She shook head and grinned. “Not an orgasm. It felt warm and cuddly and pleasurable, but it's different from sex.”
Since Oliver was sleeping, Donna quietly arose to put him down in his crib. Coming back to bed, she snuggled up against Brian and whispered, “You can suck my tit any time Oliver is nursing. That was one of the best almost-orgasms I've had.” So he did, and she did too.
With a new way to get off, there were fewer times when Donna seemed to want his cock ramming into her pussy. This lack of attention to his needs frustrated Brian. Being the proper husband, he acceded to his loss. Then Oliver grew and no longer needed to gain his sustenance from Donna's body. Even sucking her breast ended.
Yet many times over the intervening years, he had yearned for those moments when he could join Oliver in feeding from Donna's breasts. Just the memories could still cause his chest to tighten, his breathing to turn shallow, and his cock to stir.
While Oliver was still a baby, Donna loved her life as a stay-at-home mom, her baby, and her husband. Tired as she was at the end of the day, she and Brian had always managed to spend some time after dinner when she'd put Oliver down. Then they could relax together and talk about those things married couples do. Around 10:00, they'd go to bed, where they'd make love. Sometimes passionately, other times a slow simmering heat, ending in his ejaculation and her climax. But over time, Brian's work schedule was compressing that treasured time of togetherness. She couldn't really blame him for their disconnect, for she was enjoying their physical intimacy less; at times it was even boring. She knew, from her conversations with other women, this was a normal decline. Those who still enjoyed a romantic and sexy night were rare.
When Brian went on a business trip, usually lasting two or three days, Donna was left to herself to fill in empty evenings. One afternoon the phone rang. “Hi, darlin',” sang Janice's southern drawl. “How y'all doing?” The call led to Donna lowering her guard to dump all her frustrations onto poor Janice. She didn't mind at all, for she was the perfect person to dump problems on. Janice was a natural listener. After hearing all and listening to Donna softly sob out, “I'm sorry, Janice. I didn't mean to…”
“Honey, you just get it out while you feel it, then we can talk,” came the gentle soothing voice of her friend. After a few minutes, Donna was drying her eyes, laughing, and thanking Janice for her propitious call. It was the first time Donna had let herself out, exposing herself so personally. It wouldn't be the last, for she and Janice became close friends. The perfect matching of two women. Soon they were meeting weekly and phoning almost daily. Nothing was beyond their friendship, nor advice giving.
One day Janice suggested that they meet at her home and relax in the hot tub with a glass, or two, of wine. Oliver was five, and the right age to play with Janice's older boy. When directed to play in Karl's room, the boys did so, coming out only to use the bathroom or ask for food. Janice always had some chips and sodas for them. They soon learned to help themselves without bothering their moms.
One day, Oliver asked Karl, “What do our moms talk about sitting in the hot tub so long?”
“I don't know,” Karl said with a mischievous grin. “Let's go spy on them.” Leaving the room, they quietly skulked along the hallway, through the living room, and to the back, where the hot tub was located. What surprised Oliver, when they peeked carefully around the corner of the window, was seeing his mom and Karl's mom naked. They'd either be in the hot tub with breasts exposed just above the waterline, or stretched out on tables under some tanning lamps.
“Why are they naked like that?” asked the wide-eyed Oliver.
“I don't know,” replied Karl. But I see mommy naked with other ladies all the time.”
“But… my daddy and mommy only get undressed with each other. Isn't this wrong?” protested Oliver.
Karl had no answer to that. Just the way life was for him. “Let's go back to my room,” urged Karl. Oliver was happy to comply. Although he kept his thoughts to himself, the scene nonetheless hung on his mind. He'd ask daddy.
It had started rather casually. When she and Janice had originally begun, they'd worn their swim suits. Both of the women were quite well-proportioned, thanks to a regimen of exercise and diet that kept them trim and fit. With Janice's suggestions, their bikinis were stripped off, placed aside while the women sat in the tub au naturel.
One day Janice broached the subject when she said to Donna, “Y'all have a beautiful body, hon.”
“Thank you, Janice. I know too well; many men, even some women, have told me.” Donna gave a tired sigh, then went on, “I appreciate human beauty and, and please don't misunderstand, but I think you are one of the loveliest women I know.” She let her eyes roam over Janice, admiring her curves and lovely figure.
Did Janice actually blush? “Why, Donna…,” she struggled to find the right words, then smiled. “Thank you, hon! You don't need to apologize,” she giggled.
“Back in high school, I hated going into the showers after P.E. Knowing that some of those girls were looking at me made me sick to my stomach. Now, being naked with you, knowing you like to look at me, I don't mind,” said Janice.
“Funny you should say that, I had the same unhappy shower experiences.” The expression on Donna's face was one of seeing something in her own mind.
“Why the faraway look, hon?” asked Janice, misinterpreting the look that she'd seen before. She slid across the bench, until she was right up against Donna and placed her hand on Donna's thigh.
“Just remembering…,” Donna began, then stopped. “I don't want to talk about it.” Looking at Janice with a startled expression, she felt her nipples stiffen. For a moment she hesitated, then, recalling an earlier experience in an earlier time, she gently removed Janice's hand. “I'm sorry, Janice. I'm just not in the mood for this right now. Maybe…” she didn't finish.
Janice didn't move away, just placed her hand on her own thigh. “I am sorry. Don't mind me and my poor manners. Let's get off this subject,” Janice said, waving her hand dismissively. Her face said she meant it.
Donna returned to her usual calmness. She shook her head. “It was a long time ago. I don't want to go back through that again.” What she didn't dare tell Janice was that she'd been seduced at age 16.
“Sure, Donna. I certainly don't want to pry into unpleasant times in your life.” The subject changed to gossip about other women they knew.
Brian accepted the times when he had to take business trips away from his beloved Oliver and Donna.
It was part of his job, so he reluctantly did. Donna accepted those times when he would be away as a normal part of his professional duties.
This is how he found himself flying into Chicago on a Sunday evening. The weather was clear all the way, with no unpleasant turbulence.
After landing, and collecting his bag from the carousel, he called the hotel for a shuttle. They directed him to go outside and wait in one of the many shelters where the hotel bus would arrive. Also standing there were two other men. They introduced themselves, which is how he met Jerry and James. They had been talking, laughing, and joking, when Brian joined them.
“Hey,” said, James. “You goin' to the convention too?”
Brian looked in their direction “Me?”
They both nodded, “Yeah, that's where we're headed.” The conversation ended as the hotel shuttle arrived and hissed to a stop. The driver stepped out to help carry their bags inside, and they followed, to sit on a long bench seat where they could talk.
By the time they had reached the hotel, they were well acquainted. “You want to go out for a drink after we check in, Brian?”
“Sure, why not? First, though, I have to call my wife, let her know I've arrived; then I'll be ready.”
At the desk, Jerry and James informed the desk clerk that they were sharing a room. The clerk kept a straight face and took their information, then gave them two card keys. Stepping to Brian, the clerk took Brian's data and a copy of his credit card. His room was three doors down from Jerry and James's room. They took the elevator to the third floor and walked together. Brian left them when he came to his room.
Getting comfortable was his first aim. Off came the tie, which he draped over a hanger in the closet. His pants and shirt were next. Both were wrinkled from his travels; he tossed them into a corner of the closet, along with his sweat-stained shirt. He'd bag them tomorrow, but now he took a few minutes to hang shirts and slacks that might wrinkle in the closet.
From them he selected a short-sleeved, maroon shirt with three buttons at the neck. He pulled it on, leaving the top two undone. Completing his ensemble was a pair of tan slacks. The dress shoes he'd worn on the trip went back onto his feet.
The rest of the contents of his suitcase could wait until tomorrow. Sitting down comfortably on the bed, he dialed his home, then waited for Donna to pick up. “Hi, honey, I've arrived safely. Now in my room. Huh? Oh, the flight was good. Slept most of the way. No turbulence.”
A moment later she had passed the phone to Oliver. “Hi, Oliver. How are you? Good. So am I. I'm in a very nice hotel room in a big beautiful hotel. Yeah, I wish you could be here too. No, you can't. I only have one bed. You'd have to sleep with me.”
After a short silence, Oliver whispered, “I'd like to sleep with you, daddy.”
“Why are you whispering, son?”
“I don't want mommy to know,” he continued, whispering.
Brian decided to see how far this would go. “Oliver, you can't. I don't wear pajamas to bed.” Silence. “Oliver? Are you there?”
“Daddy. I won't wear mine either. I'll be naked with you.” Brian opened his mouth to speak, when Oliver added, “We can cuddle.”
“Uhm, honey. Can we talk about this when I get home?” he asked, his voice trembling, his mouth dry. His cock had begun to harden and showed clearly. It would go down in a moment, he hoped.
“Hi, honey,” said Donna. “Guess you guys are finished. He just gave me the phone. I don't know what you told him, but he has a huge smile.”
A knock sounded at the door. Putting his hand over the mouthpiece, he yelled, “Just a minute!”
“OK, babe. I'm going to hang up now. Some convention guys are at my door. We're going out for a drink. Love you.”
“OK. Love you. Good-bye,” she said, and the phone went dead.
He went to the door, and opened it. “Hi, guys. Just wrapping up a chat with Donna.” They moved aside so he could step out and join them. Closing the door, he tried to twist the knob. It was locked. He didn't see that Jerry and James had noticed the bulge in his pants.
They'd both called their wives too. “Talked to my son, Oliver, too,” Brian added with pride.
Taking the elevator down, they walked to the front door and out to the curb. “So where you want to go?” asked Jerry.
Brian shrugged. “I know nothing about Chicago. You have a place?”
“Friend of mine told me about this one bar. Said I'd like it.”
“I'm good with it,” replied Brian. Just then, a cab pulled up the curb in response to James' signal.
Jerry gave the driver the name of the bar. “You know where it is?”
“Yeah, I do, buddy. Lots of guys from this hotel seem to find their way there,” said the driver, pulling away from the hotel and accelerating down the street.
“A good place?” Brian asked.
“Oh, you guys will like it, I'm sure,” said the driver, looking in the rear view mirror, then winked. Fifteen minutes later they had arrived at Le Rendezvous. Brian and Jerry got out, while James settled up with the driver, then they all went inside.
The place looked all right from the outside, “No dive, at least,” thought Brian, following James and Jerry inside. They found a table in the uncrowded room, one off to the side where they'd unlikely be bothered. “I'll have a beer,” said Jerry to the waiter, who appeared suddenly at their table. James and Brian asked for one too. They talked about their daily lives, their wives and kids. Jerry had been married to Jessica for 25 years, and had a son and a daughter. James, to Maria, with two sons. After the preliminary introductions were complete, the topic turned, as it often does for men, to sex.
“Seems like the women all turn to ice once they've produced their 2.2 kids,” complained Jerry, with James agreeing. “Jessica hasn't put out for two weeks now. I've asked her nicely if she would give me a blow job, but she thinks that's worse than a fuck.”
Their eyes turned to Brian, who had been quiet through their list of complaints. “I'm happily married to Donna. I can't complain,” he started to say; then stopped. “Same at home. Wife has her hobbies and projects. When we were first married, it was hot sex every night. After Oliver was born, it was nothing for weeks; postpartum, you know. That was years ago. Now it's tired, headache, upset stomach, you name it.”
“How often does she put out?” asked James.
“Once a week,” replied Brian. “Maybe. Sometimes less.”
“That enough for you?” pushed Jerry.
“Well, no. I'd like to, uhm…, you know, make love at least twice a week. More, if she were willing.”
Their conversation paused, for the first time Brian looked beyond their table, at those surrounding them. There were no women in the room! “Is this a gay bar?” he asked, an expression flitting across his face. What was it? Surprise? Anger? Or some other?
Jerry was grinning.