Date: Sun, 13 Mar 2005 03:14:17 +0000 (GMT) From: Dan Perducci Subject: Scandal in Hayworth "This is Frank Oxford with WTVX news. I am outside the Dixie View Motel where county commissioner Adam Lane is under arrest for indecent conduct." The dark night was betrayed by the klieg lights of the local press. Squad cars assembled and mingled with the station wagons marked by the call letters of the different television stations. The rain added extra drama to the moment. The crush of reporters was too much for the deputies to bear. They stood fast and waited for a clearing before they would take their suspect to the patrol car. "This is Edward Paul with WDAY-TV, would you care to tell us what is the woman's name?" said one reporter aggressively thrusting his microphone in the face of Deputy Freeman. The pushy reporters were from the state capital. They were always drooling for something salacious for their readers -- especially on slow news weekends. They needed something to take the edge off of doomsday stories about missiles in Cuba or Negro troubles in the South. The lean and young deputy squinted in the amazing spotlights and grunted as if to defer to his boss who was waving his men around in a chaotic choreography. Questions were spilling out of mouths at a rapid pace. "Are you going to let her out of the room so we can ask her some questions?" "Is the lady under arrest?" "I've been camped out here with the Hayworth Chronicle for most of the evening and I did not see any strange activity." The rain shifted from light drizzle to driving downpour. The crowd pushed aside as the state patrol came to the scene and cordoned off some space for the suspect to be escorted. "I heard that his wife set this up because she suspected him of stepping out with his secretary." "This is definitely a political hit that was set up by Lane's enemies!" The outstretched arms of the highway patrol restrained the growing mob. The noise soon stopped when the motel room door opened. Three deputies were draping the man with their jackets either to keep him dry or to protect him from the curiosity of the media and onlookers. The cameras filmed everything they could get even though they could not capture any faces yet. One uniformed man from the sheriff's department rushed behind the entourage with his notepad. He was apparently going to interview the woman with whom the county commissioner was caught. "This may be too late to make Sunday's paper but I will get something nice and in-depth for Monday," one reporter confessed to the man from the local radio station. "It's a damn shame that we have to have a good man fall to the temptation of a another woman," clucked a businessman from his adjacent motel room, "I haven't had a chance to get any ice from the damn machine because of all of this mess!" The police car drove off with the accused commissioner and back into town. "Damn!" A hoot and a yowl came from nowhere. Someone slipped through the police line and caught a glimpse of an officer taking copious notes at the foot of the bed in the crime scene. He was interviewing a boy. Sitting upright in a pair of baby blue boxers, the kid looked no more than thirteen years old and he cocked his head like he was just as confused as his interviewer. "Get this boys! The commish has been screwing a boy!," announced one of the spectators. The door to the room was still open and it soon became crammed with prying eyes who were clamoring to be eyewitnesses to the death of a political career. The interviewer stopped asking questions and shouted for backup. "Somebody shut the goddamn door! I can't get decent answers if this kid's scared!" From behind the mass of reporters, photographers and cameramen, the sheriff came dashing in his raincoat. He was screaming like a madman. "I trust that you good men will be destroying your film tonight. We don't want to be peddling indecency to our local families, now do we? And no, you can't quote me on that!" He manhandled a pair of writers from the Journal from the door and closed it with a flourish. "Just what we need, a fucking scandal in Hayworth!." The sheriff was a man in his fifties and was just reelected. This was the kind of case that he didn't like. Solved murders earned him approval of the voters but these kinds of crimes were too dirty to make any hay from. "What have you written so far?" the sheriff asked. "I have about two pages on my steno pad," the young deputy replied. "I need my glasses for read this," the sheriff said, placing his hand in his pants pocket. "What's that in your pocket?" the boy teasingly asked the county commissioner. It was a sunny Monday afternoon when the junior high school was visiting the county courthouse. The commission chambers were open to visiting students and one student strayed into Commissioner Lane's office. Commissioner Lane couldn't be faulted for his sublime charm over people. His pompadour crowned his handsome face and he resembled the actor Montgomery Clift. Young women in the community were credited with Mr. Lane's easy victory on Election Day not once but twice. He was standing by his bookshelf with intent to read study some regulations regarding zoning near town. He had already talked to the kids about his job and his duties. He assumed that he was done entertaining for the day. Mr. Lane smiled and assumed that he was being complimented on his watch chain. It was a family heirloom. It gave him a courtly heir and some gravitas to balance his movie star looks. "It's a watch chain," he replied, "I'm honored that you like it. My..." The boy strode toward the man and shoved his hand into the pocket. The boy fumbled around while his quarry was somewhat too shocked to react in any way. The kid missed the watch by a country mile and seemed to be reaching for something else. Mr. Lane's discomfort grew as quickly as his penis did. He quickly backed away. "I don't know what you want, boy but you have certainly crossed the line!" "I'm sorry, Sir. I was just nervous. I hope that you're not going to report me to my teacher! My parents would make sure I couldn't sit for a week!" The boy seemed as innocent as his white button up shirt with the short sleeves. His navy blue tie indicated that this young miscreant had some discipline within him. "What is your name?" Mr. Lane asked. "My name is Benjamin," he squeaked, "I really liked our school trip today, Sir." "That is very nice of you to say. It's an important civic duty..." Benjamin started licking his lips as if he was looking at something he really desired. "It's an important civic duty," repeated Mr. Lane. The only thing on Benjamin's mind was the feeling of Mr. Lane's cock against the back of his young hand. His lousy excuse for copping a feel on a married man was exposed by this time. Benjamin had to be forgiven for his naive excess. He thought that all males shared his lusty feelings for the same sex. He simply expected the older man to reciprocate because he had an energetic young blonde homosexual in his reach. Mr. Lane did not normally smoke around women and children. His nerves were too shot to observe this quaint social convention. He reached into his desk drawer to pull out his cigarette case. He shakily lit one of his smokes and stared intently at the student. "They don't teach you this kind of stuff at Central Junior High," he demanded with a rapidly beating heart. He had not felt this way since he and his college roommate played around in their dorm room in university. The two political science majors weren't going to be knocking up any girls with the kind of futures they desired in these heady halcyon days before birth control. "You're a little too young to be looking at me like that." Mr. Lane whispered tartly. The room was hazy with smoke when the boy made a bold move. He walked backward to the office door and locked it behind him. Benjamin smiled slyly. "I want to be an office boy. I can work for free," he said. Mr. Lane was on his third cigarette and was trying to pace away temptation. "I like to do all sorts of things. I help out my big brother when he needs it," Benjamin said, massaging his own clothed groin. Mr. Lane was mystified. Temptation created a tension in his loins that yearned for some release. He gulped and stamped out his cigarette into the marble ashtray resting on his mahogany desk. "Screw this," he thought to himself as he led the boy by hand to his desk. Sitting down in his giant leather chair, Mr. Lane took Benjamin's hand and guided it back to his pants. "You like my watch?" he asked. This question seemed designed to put off any stray ears in the halls. "Here, have a closer look," he panted with bated breath. Benjamin unzipped the man's trousers and reached inside for his prize. "What a nice watch you have," Benjamin gushed. "Do you want a closer look?" Mr. Lane replied. "Sure," Benjamin said before taking the man's hard cock into his mouth. The boy's head bobbed thirstily and with enthusiasm. Mr. Lane's hand was firmly on the back of Benjamin's head. Mr. Lane never imagined himself being seduced by anyone while he occupied this office of modest political power. In this case, the only political favor he might be granting would be the chance for some random kid to be an errand boy. The boy's humming was silent and discrete. This was nothing contrived. It came from clandestine nights with his brother under the bed sheets while their family was sleeping. His brother's sixteen-year-old rod was ideal practice. Ten minutes of gentle thrusting into Benjamin's mouth led to climax for the gentleman from county district four. He smiled and pulled out a handkerchief to mop his sweaty brow. The moment ended and Benjamin was already looking back fondly on this heated moment. He swallowed with experience and thumbed away any excess semen from his chin. "Do you go fishing?" said Mr. Lane. "My father sometimes takes me but he spends much of his time running the store." Benjamin answered. "Have you been to Dixie Point State Park?" asked the man now recovering from a unique euphoria. Dixie Point State Park was in the southern part of the county and nearly an hour away from the county seat. Mr. Lane rarely ventured there because it was outside of his district and because the fishing wasn't all that great anyways. "Well now that you're my errand boy, tell your parents that we're going to celebrate by going fishing down at Dixie Point this weekend." "Sure!" Mr. Lane jotted down hi phone number for Benjamin. "Tell me if you have your parents' permission." "Yes, sir!" In a split second, Benjamin unlocked the door and was quickly reunited with his class as they toured the judges' chambers. Nobody in the whole class had any idea of their classmate's special field trip that was planned for Saturday. Nobody was more upset about this fishing trip than Mrs. Lane. She always assumed that her husband's late hours in the office were a cover story for having it on with his mistress. She needled her spouse about every detail of this kid and their sudden affinity for fishing. "Adam, you know damn well that no random kid is going to barge in on you to go fishing!," she fumed, "This is not The Andy Griffin Show!" "Rebecca," he angrily retorted, "You will never understand my role in reaching out to the community!" "I wish that you would reach out like that when my mother visits!" Adam blushed suddenly from ironic embarrassment but his wife took it for rage. "I hope that you bring home some fish! Because if you don't, I'll kill both you and whatever that whore's name is!" "You're not being very ladylike," he said through clenched teeth and started packing his suitcase. The next day was uneventful. Benjamin's parents, of course, were honored to have a county official come over to spend the day with their son. "Sir, I hope that our Ben isn't too much trouble," the mother beamed. Benjamin's brother gave a knowing grin from across the living room but said nothing. The fishing expedition was rather brief because the state park was filled with a threat of oncoming rain. A brief visit to the bait shop and the pair was doing as much as they could to at least look like they were fishing for any curious eyes. The dock extended about fifty feet into the lake. Mr. Lane was checking his tackle box (just purchased that morning) when Benjamin was running back to the shore. Mr. Lane heard a tumble and a big splash. They were making their fishing charade work for a couple of hours when Benjamin `fell' into the water. "Come now, we have to get you somewhere before you catch cold," Mr. Lane urged. They retreated to Mr. Lane's Chevrolet Biscayne and drove off to a nearby hotel on the nearby highway. U.S. 19 was a shady stretch of asphalt in unincorporated Drake County because of the army base in the adjacent county. Guests and travelers, however, were afforded relative anonymity compared to the prying eyes of the Hayworth bluenoses. That is except for the eyes of Rebecca's sister who was lying in wait across the street in a borrowed car. "I see Adam's car coming," she said, "I'm getting out of here before I'm found!" She was disappointed to see only a man and a wet little boy leaving. Mr. Lane left Benjamin in the car while he checked into the motel. Dixie View was liberal but was not libertine. The two hustled into Room 9 at the ground level complex. Benjamin headed to the shower while his mentor followed him. Clothes fell to the floor and Adam was quick to devouring his young charge underneath the falling water in the shower. The golden crown of hairs on Benjamin's young cock pleased the man immensely. He leaned Benjamin over the shower drain and entered his tight anal opening. He pushed in and out under the cascade of hot water. Benjamin's palm had a tenuous grip on the tile wall of the bathroom. He did not fret because of Mr. Lane's arm around his waist from behind. Benjamin's dick grew firm in the grip of the older man and proceeded to ejaculate moments before Mr. Lane planted his seed deep within the boy. They paid no attention to the sporadic rain outside. Once finished dirtying and then cleaning themselves, they prepared to go to the nearby diner while there was a break in the rain. A knock was at the door, it was a woman from a nearby room. She wore a pink silky dress that clung to her like she was poured into it. "Go ahead, Benjamin." Mr. Lane told the boy. Benjamin complied and crossed the street. "'I'm staying in Room 4 if you need entertainment while your son sleeps," she told the man. "Thank you, but I am going to get some dinner now." "My name is Loretta, just knock if you're interested." Across the street, a blue car peeled out of the diner's parking lot. Rebecca's sister had seen enough. "That bastard sent his decoy to get something to eat while he gets down to business with some hooker!" she fumed. Mr. Lane apologetically explained his marital status and sprinted across the highway to meet his young friend. It was 6:00 in the evening when they carefully returned to their motel room. The two listened to the radio and fell asleep on the same bed. Benjamin nestled his head into the crook of Mr. Lane's arm. It was around nine that Benjamin walked to the light switch and shut it off. He stripped down to his underwear and placed his body astride the sleeping man. He kissed his new mane friend on the lips when the knocking on the door started. "It must be room service," said a groggy Mr. Lane as he approached the door fully clothed... "And that's my story, sir," said the seated boy to the deputy. The sheriff found his glasses and was dumbfounded by what he was reading. He never trained for this when he was a young man in the Hayworth Police Department. "Get some clothes for this kid, I think I've heard all I need to hear!" he grumbled and returned outside to shove his way through the gauntlet of ravenous reporters. Send instant messages to your online friends http://uk.messenger.yahoo.com