"Oh, FUCK!" I shouted, pulling the car over off the side of the 2-lane highway. I was hoping against hope that, out here, in the middle of nowhere, I could just sort of drive along without bothering anyone. I was just three days over fourteen on that night, with my parents out of town on a mini-vacation while I stayed home completing homework and hanging out, a fairly common arrangement in my family. My parents trusted me by myself, as I was generally a fairly responsible kid.
But I had a feeling this arrangement might change as I looked with horror at the approaching figure in my rear view mirror: a highway patrolmen, who would now approach the car, discover that I was far too young to have a license, and arrest me and throw me in jail for ever and ever.
I did my best to remain calm even as a sick feeling rose in my stomach as I thought about what prison would be like, and how I would never see my friends again, and how my parents, who had hoped I would grow up and go to college and be a success, would be bitterly disappointed. The shock would probably give my dad a heart attack, in fact. And then I'd have their deaths on my head as well.
As all these thoughts chased each other through my head, I sat sweating until finally, when the cop finally approached the car and leaned down to look in through the window, the first words that flew unbidden out of my mouth were: "Please don't throw me in jail!"
These five words, I was and still am convinced, are the worst in the English language to throw at a cop when he pulls you over. It rarely wins you points, and additionally alerts the police officer that there's probably something particularly wrong with you or your vehicle, which can only lead to more trouble.
Besides that, I'm sure I looked anything but upstanding and righteous. I'd hopped in the car at 1:30 in the morning when this idea that I could hop out of bed and go for a joy-ride with no one ever being the wiser simply would not leave my brain. I tossed and turned for two or three hours before finally giving in to the bittersweet temptation by finding my mom's keys, starting up the car, and very slowly getting out on the road. I had watched my parents teach my older brother, now away at college, to drive, and tried to remember everything they had taught him. Before too long, I had figured out the basic idea, and decided to see how fast the old Chevy might go out on the open road. Unfortunately, it could still go fast enough to arouse the interest of this policeman who happened to be sitting behind a billboard as I flew past.
So now I sat beneath his trained gaze, my hair wild and free after my evening shower, and myself dressed in my normal sleeping attire, which consisted of old cutoff sweat pants and a raggedy, hole-ridden t-shirt splattered with paint. My feet were clad only in my old sneakers. Given all this in addition to the wild, frantic glance caused by my rapidly beating heart, I was not at all surprised by the cop's first words to me:
"Would you mind stepping out of the car please?"
I did, perhaps a bit too quickly, as the cop jumped back and his hand went to his gun belt. I raised my hands almost involuntarily to demonstrate that they held nothing. After this gesture, they seemed stupid and clumsy, and I had nothing better to do with them, so I forced them to lay at my sides, though they wanted desperately to clutch and grasp at each other like my mothers' always did when she was nervous.
"Turn around and put your hands on the car," said the officer sternly. I had yet to see his face as he'd been shining his four-cell flashlight into my face when he first approached. I did as he asked, unable to discern exactly what it was in his voice as I hadn't seen his features as he'd said it. His voice was stern, but wavered a bit in what I could have almost construed as...nervousness? But that had to be my overactive and optimistic imagination.
I did as he asked, and felt his hands on my ribs as he patted me down. His hands scooted over my sides, then to my chest and back, and then down the outsides of my legs. When he reached my ankles, he came back up on the inside. What he did next caught me off guard, but I didn't think too much of it as I'd never been frisked before. His hands moved over my naked calves, up my thighs, and then he quickly cupped my crotch in one hand as he brushed over my ass with the other.
I exhaled sharply as he did this, and my dick responded in the way that any fourteen year-old's would have in that position: it began to inflate into erection. I blushed bright red, hoping the cop wouldn't notice. This was, of course, a vain hope; I never wear underwear to bed. I frantically tried multiplying things in my head, hoping to control the situation before the cop noticed, and beat me up in addition to throwing me in the slammer.
"How old are you?" he asked, his voice having that same stern-but-hitching quality to it.
"F-f-fourteen, sir," I stammered.
I expected an instant explosion as I finally made it all the way through the word, but none came. The officer seemed to mull this over, as if unclear on what exactly the minimal driving age was.
"You been drinking tonight? Using any drugs?"
"No, sir!" I said. This came out a little too forcefully, but I think the cop took it for the truth. It was pretty obvious that I was far beyond the composure necessary to lie in any believable manner.
"Then why are you acting so nervous?"
"Because you pulled me over, and I was going too fast, and I don't have a license, and you're gonna throw me in jail, and my dad's gonna--"
"Hey, slow down there. I'm not gonna throw you in jail," he said, not unkindly. His voice had softened a bit as I came near tears of fear and frustration. "You're not going to jail, but you could be in for a nice, big ticket, and that could mean suspension of your license until you're eighteen."
I was struck anew with the gravity of the situation. Some part of me had realized that I wouldn't be thrown in jail for this transgression, but I'd really had no idea what the actual consequences would be. To hear this news from an authority figure lent it a great deal of validity, and the situation struck me again.
"However, I've noticed a couple things here." Here, I looked up at him questioningly, waiting for him to go on. "First of all, it's obvious that you're not a hardened criminal, and you look like this isn't the kind of stupid thing you're going to do again."
I nodded emphatically, my eyes studying him in the starlight. He was pretty young, probably around 25 or so, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, which occurred to me as odd since it was almost pitch black outside on this balmy, moonless night. His hair was covered by his cap, and his mouth obscured by his mustache. My only clue to his age were his cleanly-shaven cheeks, which looked fairly soft.
"The second thing," he said, and paused. I nodded slightly as though to prompt him, but he turned his head slightly, looking away. Then, despite the glasses, I could feel his eyes on my face. "The second thing I noticed is that you've got a nice set of balls." I was taken aback. My boner was returning again, and his head dipped slightly, showing that he was taking notice.
I had messed around with boys growing up, and occasionally masturbated with a friend of mine, but had never really thought about what this man before me was obviously implying: sex with another guy. The thought didn't strike me as disgusting, nor did it really necessarily appeal to me. But it did excite me, as the talk of any sex tends to do at that vibrant age.
"Now, I'm willing to let this go as a warning," he said, stepping closer to me and putting his hand on my leg just above the knee. "But it seems only fair that you should do something that will show me that you'll never do this kind of thing again. What do you say?"
I said nothing. I couldn't. I was speechless. A million thoughts flew through my head, but the one that beat them all was the simple longing echoed by my crotch. My answer to his question was in placing my hand on his and moving it up to the legband of my shorts.
He smiled. "Let's step around to the other side of the car, then, just in case anyone comes down this road." He didn't need to tell me that this was very unlikely at this hour on this road, but it made sense all the same. He also didn't need to tell me that, even though he held a certain amount of power over me, he had forfeited quite a bit of this with his overt move at my crotch. But by letting this man have his way with me, something that I wanted to do anyway, I discovered, I could cement the deal. And it seemed like a perfectly fair trade to me, so I didn't really feel compelled to do anything. Instead, my actions were governed by the warm feeling in my genitals.
He had me sit on the hood of my car, and he leaned up against me, his hands pushing urgently up my thigh. His hand caressed my raging hard cock through my shorts for a short time before he pushed me back gently. I put my hands behind me and leaned back as he pulled my waistband away from my waist and caressed my cock skin-to-skin for the first time. I threw my head back and moaned.
My shorts were very loose, and he pulled the waistband low, exposing my cock to the warm night air. Then, my breath stopped dead in my throat as I felt his tongue working on my cock head. Before I could think a second thought, my entire teenage cock was buried in the officer's sucking mouth, bumping against the back of his throat.
He bobbed on my dick only five or six times before my muscles tensed as I sought to hold orgasm off for just a few more precious seconds. But, sensing my impending release, he suddenly removed my cock from his mouth. My saliva-soaked dick suddenly felt very cold as a breeze stirred it.
"Not so fast, m'boy. I need something from you before you come." And with that, he picked me up from the hood of the car and I found myself on the ground with my legs spread, much as I was before. He shoved my pants down as far as they would go with my legs apart, and felt my ass cheeks. I tensed up as his hands massaged them roughly, then relaxed as the surprise wore off.
"You ever been fucked?" he asked, taking his hands away and searching for something in his pocket.
"No," I said, a bit surprised. It only then dawned on me what he was going to do, and as he removed a condom from his wallet, I was assured. He wanted to fuck me! The idea seemed totally obvious now, but I was still very scared. Doubt flooded my mind, but I realized it was far too late to go back now. And with this realization, another part of my brain decided that it was ready. All my muscles quivered in mixed nervousness and anticipation.
The cop's cock was now exposed as he dropped his belt, pants, and boxers. He rolled the condom out onto his dick, and I gaped at its size. It had to be at least seven inches long, and seemed very thick to me, who had never seen a fully developed adult cock before. Mine was only about five inches, and my friend Daniel, with whom I'd often jacked off, had only four in his pants. But now, I realized again, there was no turning back.
I felt a strong hand on my back and his knuckles on my butt as he prepared to guide his cock into my virgin passageway. "Relax, I'll go slow. It will hurt a little at first, but you'll get used to it. And then it feels good, I promise." His hand pushed imperceptibly but inexorably on my upper back, bending me over the car a little more. I felt the latex-encased head of his cock push between my buttocks, and my breath caught again. Slowly, he found my hole with his thumb, and lined his dick up with it. My breath was still caught in my throat.
"Relax your asshole and it'll go a lot easier, ok?" he said.
I did my best to relax, although I was still shaking from the intense emotions I was going through.
Then, he slowly pushed forward, and I felt pressure at my back door. I fought it by instinct at first, then willed my anus to relax. As I did, I felt the tip of his head start to push its way into me. I started to resist a bit, and at the same time he pushed a little harder, and the head popped inside.
I grunted. It did hurt. My anus was stretched wide to accommodate the invader, and it had never had to house anything like a cock before. But it would have very little time to get used to this, as he was still pushing his dick up my ass. He was doing it slow, but I clamped down, only making it hurt more. He paused, urged me to relax, and, moving his hand down to my still-straining erection, continued pushing.
I relaxed, allowing still more of his massive cock to enter me, and felt his pubic hair tickling my buttocks. He gave a little jump as he pushed the last inch into me, and I grunted again. He stopped for a moment, and gave me a chance to breath.
"You ready?" he whispered in my ear. His hand was now slowly pumping my cock. I felt like I could shoot off at any moment, but for the maddening slowness of his hand.
"Yes," I breathed, unable to make any more noise. I was still shaking violently.
Without another word, he slowly pulled his dick out of my ass, and began fucking me very slowly. The rhythm was maddening and he continued to jack me off just as slowly. My anus was quaking with the onslaught, but the pain there was quickly giving way to pleasure. Almost unnoticeably, he was speeding up. His cock head brushed against my prostrate and I moaned. He was starting to go pretty quick, and was now pumping me hard. I could tell he would soon loose all self-control and just start hammering my asshole as fast as he could. I was afraid of this, and yet needed it more than I had needed anything.
"You're so tight!" he screeched, and started fucking me as hard as he could. The sensation was amazing as he tore into me, hands planted on my hips, rocking back and forth so much as to shake the car.
"Jack yourself! Go!" he shouted, and I did. I almost collapsed on the car when I removed my hand to pump my own dick due to the force with which he was hammering into me, but I held steady as my hand flew up and down on my cock. My building orgasm was intense, and I couldn't see the hood beneath me. Suddenly, he froze behind me, his dick pushed in as far and as hard as it could be, and he groaned loudly. My cock blasted cum, and I convulsed as each new shot hit the car. The officer was fucking me slowly but brutally hard as his orgasm overtook him. My cock was still oozing fluid as he fell against me, pushing my cock into the wet spot on the car, and his hips continued to move even after his orgasm.
We lay there for a few moments, unable to more than twitch. Finally, he kissed me on the neck, tickling me with his mustache, and pulled his cock out of my ass. My knees were weak, and I might have fallen had he not caught me and held me up. My ass felt strangely empty without his huge cock inside of me.
He unrolled the condom and tossed it off into a ditch that ran alongside the road. Then, with a smile, he extended his hand. A bit put off, I shook it.
"My name's Dave," he said, grinning at me.
"Charlie," I said, as he shook my hand.
"Now you be careful on the way home, ya hear?"
"I wouldn't want to have to pull you over again. Actually, yes I would." He grinned again, looking almost half his age. I smiled back, and he walked off to his car. I waited for him to leave before hopping back in my car for the journey home.
I considered the relative merits of speeding on the way home, but decided to play it safe. I figured it wasn't every night that you get pulled over by a cop like Dave, and I didn't want to risk having any black marks on my record just because I had a new need to get fucked.
But one thing was for sure: Daniel and I would have something new to try out the next time he came over to masturbate. So on the way home, I stopped at an all-night drug store and picked up some condoms.
Daniel was definitely gonna like this.
--December 29, 1997