Date: Fri, 30 Mar 2007 11:58:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jacksantoro1@yahoo.com>
Subject: Arrest Record, Part 7, Adult Friends, 7/?

Arrest Record, Part 7
By Jacksantoro1@yahoo.com

	We awoke refreshed, especially Harold, who said he'd
slept like a corpse after the previous evening's
massive electro-orgasm. Ed and I were full of energy,
and we prepared a ham and eggs breakfast while Harold
took a shower. Life was good and we enjoyed it to the
utmost.
	At the office we checked our in-trays and found more
transcripts. Most were from the apartment building
where we'd arrested Harris, and Ed made a phone call
to have the telephone taps stopped, as they were no
longer useful. However, there were several
conversations from Abdul al-Mani's telephone, and we
scrutinized these carefully.
	What we gleaned was that a replacement for John
Taylor was on his way and would arrive within a few
days.
	"We'll really have to be on our toes," I pointed out
to Harold. "Right now we don't know where or when. The
guy might arrive at any time, by bus, train, plane, or
car. We don't know what he'll be bringing with him or
if he'll be bringing someone with him. My guess is
that he'll stay at Abdul's, since this seems to be a
safe house, but it's only my guess. We can't be sure
of anything."
	"It looks like a 24-hour watch on Abdul might be
productive," Harold said. "Do we have the manpower for
that?"
	"We'd be stretched thin if we tried that," Ed
informed him. "Oh, we have other guys in Special Ops
but they're busy with their own cases. Trailing a guy
like Abdul requires at least three men, and at the
bare minimum two. There's too much of a chance of
blowing the tail even with three guys, and having just
one guy tailing him almost guarantees failure,
whatever you might see on TV. The telephone tap gives
us a slight edge, though. Maybe the tap can tell us
when the rendezvous will take place."
	"Abdul doesn't drive, so we can't put a GPS on his
car, as we did with Taylor," I added. "Phil can't
spare anyone to help us, so we're pretty much on our
own."
	"It seems to me that we're not like regular cops,"
Harold ventured. "People expect us to prevent
terrorist acts."
	"Hell, you've got that right," snorted Ed. "Cops are
reactive. They come on the scene and take a report
after the crime goes down. Even at Oklahoma City and
the World Trade Center, the FBI and the ATF started
their investigations after the damage was done. We're
supposed to be pro-active, and catch the guy before he
does the deed."
	"Yeah, big difference," agreed Harold. We sat
silently for a few minutes, lost in thought. Finally
Ed spoke up:
	"Maybe this will work. We'll split up. We can't watch
Abdul 24/7, so one of us will stay in the office at
all times. He'll be on hand to pick up any telephone
tap transcripts. Better yet, we'll tell the
technicians to patch any call in to a dedicated line
right here. If there's any information on when the
meeting will take place, the guy here can call the
others at home and then we'll all be able to be there
when it comes down."
	"That can work," I said. "We'll have an unmarked car
here and one at home. We'll be in plainclothes all the
time. Even if we're sleeping we can get dressed in
five minutes and be on our way."
	"Good," Ed said. "I'll take the first shift. "One of
you beck back here at four to relieve me, and the
other will come in at midnight. That will give us each
eight hours on and 16 hours off." Harold and I got up
and went out to the car.
	"I think we'd better pick up a pizza," I said. I
don't know when we'll be able to eat again. I'll go
back in to relieve Ed at four, and you relieve me at
midnight."
	Harold and I undressed and went out to the back patio
to split the pizza. We made lots of eye contact as we
ate, sending unspoken messages of devotion. We didn't
drink any beer, as we had to be ready at any moment if
Ed called. After we'd finished, Harold pulled his
chair next to mine and grasped the nipple of my
foreskin between thumb and forefinger.
	"I wish I had one of these," he said. "I guess you're
tired of hearing that."
	"I never get tired of you saying anything," I said,
reaching down to squeeze his big tip. Blood rushed to
our pricks, rapidly filling them until we were hard.
We were both excited, yet fully aware that anything we
began might be interrupted.
	"What would you like to do?" he asked.
	"Anything you like, as long as we're prepared to drop
everything if Ed calls."
	"I enjoyed that Princeton we did the other evening,"
he said.
	"That's good. This time want to be the passive
partner? I'll slip my prick between your thighs."
	"Sure," he said as we got up to go into the bedroom.
I took two condoms from the bedside drawer.
	"One is for me, and one's for you," I explained.
"That way, you won't be shooting all over the sheet.
Also, having a condom on your prick will be almost
like having a foreskin. I'll stroke you as if you were
uncut."
	"I did that a few times," Harold said. "I jacked off
with a condom to get the feel of what it would be like
if I had skin. It was pretty nice." We dripped some
Astroglide into each condom and put them on our
pricks. I retracted my foreskin until it locked behind
the ridge, but Harold just had to unroll his sheath.
Harold lay on his left side and I got into position
behind him, sliding my prick in when he lifted his
thigh. I began thrusting slowly, thinking of the
possibility of being interrupted.
	Now I put my right arm over his body and grasped his
prick, sliding the condom along its length as if it
were a foreskin. I felt its warmth through the thin
latex as my fingers explored its contours. Harold
began to respond, his breathing deepening.
	"Let's go nice and slow," I urged. "We've got all
day." I felt the friction of his perineum and inner
thighs clasping my prick with each thrust, and my
excitement began to mount along with his. Deep inside
me, a drop of lubricant crept up my tube. I continued
my slow stroking of his warm prick.
	"This feels so romantic," Harold said. "Do you think
that's silly?"
	"No, not at all," I replied. "I feel the same way." I
maintained a steady pace, working my prick in and out
inside the condom, my helmet nudging his balls on the
forward stroke. I kept the same rhythm on Harold's
penis, sliding the condom along its length as if it
were a foreskin.
	"I just felt a drop of lube inside," he said. "Now
it's crawling up my cock." I kissed him on the ear and
continued caressing his prick through the thin latex.
	"You've got a beautiful prick," I murmured in his
ear. "I really enjoyed watching it last night when you
were getting off with the electro. Your shaft is
straight and the helmet is big. You've got the same
sexy curves as Ed and I have, and your rim flares too.
Now that I'm stroking you I can feel it through the
condom." Harold shuddered against me.
	"I feel it every time your tip touches my balls," he
said. "I can feel you sliding back and forth down
there. I know that when you explode I'll feel every
throb between my thighs."
	"When you explode my fingers will be around your
prick and I'll feel every throb too," I said. "We can
time it so we come together."
	"I'd love that, Jack, knowing you're blowing your
load at the same time I'm coming." I felt him tighten
his thigh muscles, giving my prick an unanticipated
squeeze. I gave his condom-covered prick a quick twist
in acknowledgement.
	"I'll tell you when I'm getting close," I said. "I'll
also stroke you faster so you can come when I do."
	"I think all you'll need to do is give me a couple of
twists like you did just now. You'll have me blowing
my load along with you," he said.
	"Also, if you feel yourself start to come, tighten up
against my prick. That extra friction will get me
started fast."
	"I'll do that, Jack. Meanwhile, I'm not close, so we
can enjoy the action for a while longer." It was warm
in the room, and our bodies started to sweat. I licked
a salty drop off the back of his neck.
	Now as I continued to thrust I felt Harold's body
reciprocating. Each time I thrust he back into me. We
were synchronized in our movements, and this
heightened the feeling of togetherness. Now we were
breathing more rapidly, and I knew we were getting
close.
	"I can feel your helmet swelling and getting harder,"
I told him. "The rim's flaring more now. You're
getting close."
	"I am, Jack, I am. Just keep going. I think we'll
shoot together."
	"I'm getting that tickle in the head," I said. "How
about you?"
	"Not yet." At his words I gave his prick a couple pf
twists.
	"That's doing it, Jack. My cock feels so stiff." My
encircling fingers rode over his hardness, exploring
the ridge, groove, and the pronounced curves of his
beautiful helmet. The tickle in my tip intensified,
and I tightened my grip on Harold's prick as my eyes
closed.
	"Jack, Jack, I..." His voice broke off as I felt his
body shudder against mine. His thighs tightened hard
on my prick and I felt the hot tingle that shot
through my helmet and down my shaft, triggering my
climax. Harold yelped as his prick throbbed, and I was
only an instant behind him. My shaft and helmet
throbbed hard as the burning fluid shot through them
to empty into the nipple of the condom.
	Harold and I moaned mindlessly as the second wave hit
us, and our bodies struggled together in the frenzy of
orgasm. I felt the warmth of my sperm swirling around
my helmet, trapped by the thin latex sheath. Harold's
condom was filling up as well and I tightened my grip
to give him the friction he needed to drive his
orgasm. We were both in free-fall, sharing the most
intimate experience men can have together.
	Another hot torrent gushed up my prick, discharging
into the condom. Now my tip was becoming
super-sensitive, but my helmet was swimming in the
thick fluid, insulated from excessive friction,
keeping me comfortable as another spasm shook me. I
felt each throb in Harold's beautiful prick as he
continued to pour his sperm into the condom. He kept
thrusting his hips as he drove his straining prick
deeper into my fist.
	Our orgasms ended, leaving us drained and dazed as
usual. I clung to him, feeling the sweaty warmth of
his body as our breathing returned to normal. I felt
his prick soften and shrink between my fingers as his
excitement faded. Now I removed my hand from his prick
and grasped the ring of latex at the base of my shaft,
holding it so that my prick wouldn't slip out of it as
I withdrew. Harold turned to face me and we embraced.
I kissed him tenderly on the lips.
	"See?" I asked him. "We didn't spill a drop."
	"That felt really good, your stroking me with the
condom. It felt just like I had skin on my cock, or at
least what I imagine I would feel like."
	"You might try wearing a condom 24 hours a day," I
suggested. "Our foreskins keep the head protected and
moist, and that keeps them sensitive. Maybe if you
kept your tip covered and wet with a little water or
Astroglide, it would become more sensitive."
	"I guess I could cut off the condom's nipple to let
me pee," he said. "That way I wouldn't have to remove
it every time I have to go."
	"That's the idea," I said encouragingly. "I don't
know how long it will take until your tip feels more
sensitive, but it's worth trying. I knew someone else
who did that and he said it helped him."
	"I guess we'll have to play it by ear," he said. He
sounded sleepy and I felt that way too. We fell asleep
in each other's arms, knowing that we'd have to get
our sleep whenever we could during the next few days.
	We awoke a couple of hours later and agreed we could
use a shower. We discarded the condoms and stepped
under the warm water. Our bladders were full and the
water stimulated our sphincters. We soaped each other
and then rinsed ourselves under the spray. After we
dried each other Harold took a fresh condom, cut off
the nipple and slipped it onto his prick after
lubricating the glans thoroughly. By the time we'd
gotten dressed it was time for me to leave to take the
next shift at the office. I kissed Harold goodbye and
drove off.
	When I arrived the office was almost empty. I had
waved to Kyle and Justin in the parking lot and now I
sat next to Ed at his desk, waiting to hear if there
was any news. He looked at me before speaking:
	"How'd your day with Harold go?" he asked. I started
to tell him about our experience, but broke off and
asked:
	"Hey! Are you jealous?" He smiled and said:
	"Hell, no! I'm not jealous. I hope you had a good
time. I'll be seeing him soon, you know."
	"We did Princeton and Harold really got off when I
stroked his prick with a condom on it. He said it felt
just like a foreskin."
	"So you were in back, huh?" Ed concluded. I nodded
and went on:
	"I told him that if he wore a condom on his prick all
the time the head would become more sensitive.
Remember that cut guy we knew a few years back? Todd?
He did that and said it made his glans more
sensitive."
	"Well, nothing much has happened here," Ed told me,
changing the subject. "See this white phone on my
desk. That came today after you left. It's a direct
line to the tap on Abdul's phone. Any other news will
come via e-mail here. Now I'd better get home. I'll
see you when you get home." He left and I was faced
with a long boring evening, or so I thought.
	At midnight Harold walked in, looking very refreshed.
I asked him how the evening had gone and he told me
that he and Ed had given each other hand jobs. Ed had
been very interested in the artificial foreskin he'd
fashioned from a condom, and had pumped Harold's prick
with such enthusiasm that he'd exploded within two
minutes.
	"I'm glad you had a good time," I said. "Now let me
fill you in on what's happened here. First, we didn't
get any information to act on. That's why you didn't
hear from me. However, we got an e-mail from the 911
Task Force. They went to work on Harris and he told
them that his target was Dulles International Airport,
not a mall. There are lots of people going through
Dulles and they take flights all over the country and
to Europe. That would have spread the biological agent
quickly."
	"Did he tell them what exactly was in the spray can?"
Harold asked.
	"No. He said he didn't know. The stuff's at a lab
right now, but probably we won't know for a few days
or weeks. Anyway, Abdul was supposed to be his
back-up, in case he couldn't complete the mission.
They're both martyr wannabees."
	"Think they'll get any more out of Harris?" Harold
persisted.
	"Only time will tell. These 911 guys are
professionals. They won't be handing us garbage just
to show they made him talk. They're not like the guys
down at Guantanamo. That terrorist who supposedly
confessed admitted being the mastermind behind
everything except the Kennedy Assassination."
	"Why did they wring a false confession out of him?"
Harold asked. "Isn't that counter-productive?"
	"The guys at Guantanamo are lawyers. They're trying
to build a case for trial. Prosecutors pile on all the
charges they can think of so that when they play
`Let's Make a Deal' they can say `We'll drop this
charge if you plead guilty to that.' The 911 people
aren't interested in this game because their captives
never go to trial, so they don't dig up any bullshit."
	"So the information we get from the 911 Task Force is
more accurate," Harold concluded.
"Yes, more likely to be accurate. Those guys know
lives depend on their providing good intelligence, not
crap." I got up. "I'll head for home now. Ed will be
here at eight." Nobody else was in the room, so I
hugged Harold and gave him a kiss.
Ed was asleep when I crawled into bed beside him at
12:45 A.M. We awoke around six and he greeted me with
an account of the evening's activity:
"Harold is really a hot kid. He was all fired up when
I got here, and we went at it right away. He played
with my skin while I stroked him with the rubber. That
really turned him on, and he blew a heavy load. Then
just before I came a he started giving me oral because
he loves the taste of natural dick. That made me
unload a lot."
"He seems to be ready for sex every few hours," I
said. "First with me, and then with you."
"Why not?" Ed replied. "He's ten years younger than we
are."
"Anyway," I added. "He's really turned on by our
foreskins. Good thing we're uncut."
As Ed was due in the office to relieve Harold at
eight, I made him toast and coffee while he showered
and shaved. I was still naked when Harold came in at
nine.
"Nothing much happened after midnight," he told me.
"Just a few transcripts that didn't say much, anyway."
As he spoke he stripped down and I saw he was still
wearing a condom over his penis. His big helmet made
the condom bulge at the end, very much like my
foreskin. I noted that his prick was half-hard.
"Looks like you're a bit excited," I told him.
"I really am, Jack. That condom on my cock makes a
difference. When I move my cock slides around inside
it, and it really feels nice."
"It keeps you stimulated," I said. I reached out and
grasped his prick at the end, feeling the helmet
sliding inside the latex.
"Ooooohhhh, that feels really good," he said. I felt
his prick swelling in my hand. Harold grasped mine,
which responded immediately to the warmth of his
fingers. He eagerly worked my foreskin up and down the
head, using the long strokes he knew I enjoyed. Every
third or fourth stroke he gave my hood a twist for an
extra fillip of sensation.
We got into a "69" position on the bed for easier
access to each other's groin and I cupped his
tightening scrotum with my other hand. I was staring
right at the end of his condom-covered prick and each
time I pulled back on the latex sheath his long slit
came into view, already leaking. I gave the condom a
few quick twisting strokes and felt the tension
increase in his body. I knew that after hours of being
semi-erect he was primed for a quick orgasm, and I
reached over for a wad of Kleenex. Harold turned onto
his back, still holding on to my prick, but aware that
he'd shoot first.
I got up on my knees and crouched over him, lovingly
stroking his shapely penis, twisting with each stroke.
I knew the twisting action was sending messages of
bliss into the nerve endings around his corona, and I
concentrated my efforts there. His breathing increased
rapidly as his excitement mounted, and now his legs
had developed a tremor. He was still holding my prick
but his impending orgasm had focused all his attention
on his sensations.
"Just relax, Harold," I coached him. "Make it last.
Hold on to my prick if it turns you on."
"Oh, Jack, holding your cock is such a turn-on. That
and feeling your fingers around mine is just heaven."
"I can feel your prick getting harder through the
latex," I told him. "The latex is translucent, so I
can see that the head's darker. You're close." I
increased my pace to bring him right to the edge, and
then stopped.
"How's that?" I asked. "You right there?" His eyes
locked on mine.
""That feels so good, Jack. My cock's all tingly." I
resumed stroking his prick, very slowly, because I
wanted the sensations to flow into him slowly, instead
of a rapid surge. I saw large clear drops seeping
through the lips of his long slit, and then he gave a
loud groan and his body shuddered.
His slit was lined up with the opening in the condom,
and his first jet shot right out of it onto the wad of
tissues I was holding. I smelled the sharp chlorine
odor of his juice. He yelped and the second
ejaculation came as my hand had pulled the condom
forward, and was intercepted by the latex membrane. I
pulled back and the semen poured from the condom just
as his third torrent erupted, soaking the tissues. I
stroked him several more times, twisting my fist to
enhance his sensations, until he was spent and still.
His prick began to shrink inside the latex sheath, and
I reached for more Kleenexes to wrap his prick and
absorb the juices.
"That was great," he said when he revived from his
dazed state. "Now let me do you. You lie down." I did
as he said and now he was crouching over my
mid-section, his right hand working my foreskin while
his left cupped my balls. I was fully aroused from
having watched and felt him come, and it didn't take
long until the tension built up in my body and my eyes
closed. I felt him pull my foreskin all the way down
off the head, baring my rim and groove, and then I
felt his soft lips engulf my helmet. I was close, very
close, and my engorged glans ached for relief. His
lips twisted sharply around my corona, sending hot
sparks of sensation stabbing deeply into my swollen
flesh.
A hot flash engulfed my prick, triggering the first
spasm deep inside me. I arched my back as I cried out,
my attention totally focused on my prick and the jet
of hot lava searing its way up my urethra. He twisted
his lips around my corona again while his tongue
drilled into my pouting slit, and another sharp
contraction gripped my prick-root. I cried out again
at the overwhelming sensation, suffused with the sweet
agony of orgasm.
His lips twisted again around my rim and made me yelp
again as the thick rope of cream surged up my prick.
Now he removed his lips and began yanking down
rhythmically on the skin of my shaft, dragging and
stretching my foreskin and frenulum tightly, making my
helmet dip in response as another jet erupted from its
orifice. His action was stretching the nerve endings
in my foreskin, gee-string, and the tissues of the
helmet itself.
	My prick responded to the stimulation, sending
several more jets into his waiting mouth. I felt his
lips barely touch the front dome of my glans as they
eagerly sucked in my jets. My orgasm was fading fast,
and soon I was still, feeling drained and exhausted.
	"I just love your big helmet throbbing in my mouth,"
I heard him say from a vast distance. I slowly
returned to normal as my breathing slowed, and now I
opened my eyes. Harold kissed me and said:
	"That's really nice, feeling you shooting your juice
into my mouth. I love the taste, the smell, everything
about it." We hugged for several minutes, enjoying the
afterglow. I knew that Harold needed sleep, and I got
up from the bed after he fell asleep in my arms.
	It went on like this for several days, with the three
of us anxiously waiting for something to happen that
would point us in the right direction. Investigations
often run this way, taxing our patience, until at
times we're ready to give up hope. However, an event
in an unexpected quarter opened up the case for us
once more.

Continued in Part 8