Date: Thu, 9 Mar 2006 11:03:53 -0800 (PST) From: Reflex Subject: Trapped Muscle-Cop Part 18 {Reflex} (M^M bd nc reluc humil) Disclaimer: If you are under 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read material of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between men. It is entirely a work of fictional entertainment. Trapped Muscle-Cop, Part 18 By Reflex (reflex012004@yahoo.com) Copyright 2006 Part 18: A Brief(s) Respite Lance Packer was on his bicycle making his early morning rounds. The sixteen-year-old guy never liked having to get up early, but being the local newspaper delivery boy for the past two years had given him a bit of extra cash, which he liked a lot. An hour on his bicycle every morning also provided a useful workout for the strong legs of the blond high-school baseball player. As Lance sped down the street, tossing the morning paper in the general direction of people's doorsteps, he had no idea that this particular morning one of the local residents was lying in wait. Colonel Dudley stood behind the curtains of his livingroom window peeking out onto the street. For at least the past six months, the morning paper never made it anywhere near the Colonel's doorstep. Instead, it always ended up on the wet lawn, turning into a soggy, inky rag before the Colonel could get his hands on it. Enough was enough, Dudley had decided. He had already given Lance one stern lecture about it to no effect. In fact, recently the paper seemed to be getting tossed farther across the lawn so that not only was the paper wet, but the Colonel's shoes got soaked as he was forced to walk to the far end of the front garden to retrieve the blasted thing. He was sure that Lance was doing this on purpose and was determined to catch him in the act and give him one final warning. "Ah, there you are, you little devil," Dudley muttered to himself. He saw the baseball-capped teenager making his way down the street. The Colonel couldn't help but notice Lance's fit muscular body. Lance's loose navy-blue tank top was draped from broad shoulders and displayed the strong arms with which the budding athlete hit his locally reknown home-runs. From the sophomore's trim hips hung a pair of knee-length jean shorts. His defined calves pumping on the bicycle pedals, hinted at thickly muscled thighs underneath the loose denim. The Colonel mused to himself that if this punk were only a few years older he would be getting more than a lecture. Whhhrrrrrrrrrrrrr... splat! Once again the paper landed on the far side of the sodden lawn, nowhere near the front door. Dudley gasped. "Dammit! You think that's funny don't you? Well, that does it!" he growled to himself as he raced to his front door to catch the high-school miscreant. When Dudley flung his door open to run after the paper delivery boy, he saw that Lance had got off his bicycle and was walking up to the front of Martino's house. Dudley paused trying to figure out what was going on. Lance seemed to be standing on the porch. "Whoooaaa... shit! What the fuck?" said a stunned Lance as he took in the sight of Rick and Tom tied down on the garden recliners. Lance had never seen anything like this in his life. Tom looked at the teenager with pleading eyes. Lance could see Tom's fingers scrabbling at the sides of the lawnchair. Rick groaned into the bandanna that had been stuffed into his mouth and sealed with a strip of duct tape. He was sure that everyone in the neighborhood was going to know about this now. His hands balled into fists in frustration as this kid stood there with a nasty grin on his face. For Rick, this was the most humiliating experience of his life. He hated not being in control and wondered what this kid was going to do. He cocked an eyebrow at Lance and attempted to assert some authority. He wanted Lance to untie him, but the words came out muffled and incomprehensible. "UN-PHYYY MN! UN-PHYYY MN! PHAAMED! WUMBBUH UNMPH!" Lance felt a slight stirring in his pants and rubbed his crotch a bit. He looked at the harness on Rick's briefs-encased cock. His eyes narrowed in contemplation of the odd contraption. "Man, that's gotta feel kinda funny," he said. He looked a little closer. "What is that?" Lance resisted the temptation to reach out and touch Rick's trapped dick. Instead, he turned his attention to Tom who was raising his hips up. Tom seemed to be gesturing with his eyes like he wanted Lance's attention on something in particular. What he wanted was for Lance to pull the tormenting plug out of his butt. He didn't care who did it, he just couldn't stand the relentless prodding of his joy-button and the ache it was causing in his dick. Lance gave Tom a curious look. "You gotta be kidding, man. You want me to jack you off? Fuck, dude... no way!" Tom shook his head back and forth. "NOPH! Gumph wumph pwooofff ove!" Lance laughed. "No comprendo, man. Geeze, you guys are into some crazy shit." Looking at Tom, he asked, "Hey, haven't I seen you around. Don't tell me you're the cop that lives here. My mom says he's kind of an idiot, real stuck-up. If that's you, dude, I guess you finally got what you had coming, huh?" "UDS NNNHH MN... WEH MN UUMPHH!" Tom tried to say. "Yeah, you guys look like you're into some freakin' kinky shit. Hey, are you a couple'a cocksuckers?" "MMMNNNGGHH!" Rick shouted, his face turning red. "Mmmmmgggghhhfff?" Lance repeated teasingly. "I told ya, I don't play with other dudes' dicks man. You wanna see mine, though?" he asked. Lance unzipped his fly, reached in and fished out his hefty teenage prong. He stepped towards Rick's face. "MNNUUDDFFPHHUUKKUUUUHHH!" shouted Rick into his gag. He jerked his head away. Lance laughed. "No matter, dude. Fuck, I've gotta pee, though. How 'bout a little morning OJ for ya, huh? Maybe in that helmet... hey, you work construction? That's heavy work, man... you gotta keep yourself hydrated, ha ha ha." Rick's eyes opened wide. He tugged strenuously at the ropes binding his waist, his arms and legs, banging the lawnchair up and down on the porch. Lance heard what sounded like someone clearing his throat. He turned around, cock in hand to see the Colonel standing at the bottom of the steps. Dudley's eyes fastened onto the teen meat sticking out of the unzipped fly of Lance's shorts. "Hmmmmmmmm, that's all you've got?" said Dudley. "No wonder you can't throw the newspaper properly. Perhaps you were made for catching, not pitching." Lance was momentarily stunned, but quickly began to tuck his dick back into his jeans shorts. "Fu..." He started to tell the Colonel to get lost, when he was cut off. "No, you fuck off... and I mean now, unless you want to be this neighborhood's EX-paper-delivery-boy. And another thing, if that paper doesn't land square on my porch from now on, I'll be telling people just what I saw you doing here, sucking these two men's cocks..." "WHAT? NO FUCKIN' WAY!" At that moment, the front door opened. Pete stepped onto the porch in a bath towel. He reached down to Lance's yellow vinyl carrier bag and pulled out a copy of the newspaper. "I believe this is for me," Pete said without a trace of humor. Lance nodded his head, leaned down and picked up his bag. He looked around and said to no one in particular, "What the hell is this place?" Everyone stared at him. He latched the strap of the carrier bag over his shoulder and ran down the steps to his bicycle. Pete looked at the Colonel and said calmly, "You must be Dudley." The Colonel realized his tongue was hanging out. He rolled it back in, cleared his throat and coughed. "Uh, yes... who are you?" Pete looked at Tom and Rick. Tom squirmed in his confinement. Pete reached down and removed the clothespins from Tom's nipples. "AAAAMMMMMMFFFF!" Tom squealed as the blood rushed back into his sore nubs. Pete ran his fingers across Tom's muscular pecs. "Itchy?" Tom groaned. Pete smiled and looked over to Rick. "Soon boys... Colonel, step inside." Pete held the door open and ushered Dudley into the foyer. Fifteen minutes later and Colonel Dudley walked back out the front door. His eyes twinkled and his moustache twitched. He looked at Rick with a smile. Rick's face conveyed confusion and frustration. Dudley reached over and tapped his finger on the tip of Rick's semi-hard cock, strapped into his cotton briefs. He kept tapping until Rick was fully hard. Rick expelled a blast of warm air from his flaring nostrils. "This cotton is real damp around your knob, boy. Looks like you have been doing quite a bit of leaking," Dudley said casually. Rick grunted and balled his hands into fists. The muscles in his arms pushed tight against the skin. Dudley gave the hard cock a final tap. "I hear you two dickwipes have been discharged, and from the looks of things, without honor. Not quite army material, are you? I'm not surprised." Rick's body bucked in the chair. He desperately wanted to reset the Colonel's clock. The thought of Dudley or anybody having the upper hand over him drove him nuts. Dudley stood up straight and chuckled. He walked over to Tom and patted the blond hunk's bloated orbs through the stretched jockstrap. Tom whimpered. He wanted to squeeze his thighs shut to protect his cum-filled sack, but instead, his big, muscular, hairy legs seemed unable to move, giving Dudley full access. Tom shook his head back and forth, trying to say "no". Dudley nodded "yes" and laughed. He reached down with one of his fingers and touched the base of the plug lodged tight in Tom's studhole. Dudley pushed on it a couple of times making the cute muscle-stud squirm and grunt. Satisfied that he had taken away a little more of Tom's self-control, the Colonel resumed a rythmic tapping on Tom's trapped balls. Within a minute Tom shot of glob of spunk into the cotton-mesh pouch. The Colonel closed his fingertips like an inverted tulip around Tom's prickhead and in a light, corkscrewing manner scrubbed the tender flesh as it strained against the stretchy fabric of the jock, now sodden with Tom's goopy, spermy ejaculate. "There we go, blondie. If I were you, I'd get used to it... fast! So long, chumps," Dudley said with a snicker. He straightend himself up again, and fairly jogged down the steps and across the street. His pressed, tan-colored army trousers were tented. It was time for Jason's breakfast. ********** Pete looked down on Tony's sleeping body. The beefy Italian cop was lying face down in nothing but his jockstrap, the sheets tangled about his tanned hairy legs. "Man, I can smell ya from here. Real nice and musky," Pete whispered to himself. He leaned over and sniffed quietly down the crack between Tony's firm glutes. He blew softly up and down, paying special attention to the area near Tony's tightly closed ass pucker, hidden between the two luscious muscled mounds. Tony let out a faint groan and clenced his butt cheeks a tiny bit. Otherwise, he didn't stir. Pete reached up to Tony's shoulder and gave it a gentle shake, trying to rouse him out of sleep. "Hey buddy?" Tony grunted into the pillow. Pete let out a soft low giggle and rubbed Tony's shoulder briefly. "Hey... hey... time to get up guy. The sun is shinin'... we got things to do... come'on," Pete said. He let go of Tony's shoulder and slapped the dozing cop's left butt cheek - smack! "Wha...hoooo!" Tony yelped. "Okay, okay... heh heh, ya bastard... I'm up!" "Get some clothes on, stud. We gotta get those two numbskulls off the porch. I've got coffee brewing in the kitchen." Tony yawned, stretched his muscles and said, "Be right out." Pete mussed Tony's hair and headed off towards the kitchen. Tony looked around for something to put on. He dug around in the chest of drawers, but didn't see any of his clothes. "Fuck, where's my gear?" He saw his tee-shirt, gym shorts and sneakers on the floor and resigned himself to putting them back on. No big deal, he thought. Pete was wearing the same clothes from last night. They'd just stink a bit this morning. He could change later. It was around 8:00 in the morning when the Colonel, peeking through the curtains again, saw Pete and Tony come out onto the porch. Pete went over towards Rick, and Tony seemed to be talking to Tom. "Ah haaaa... so it's true... here Sargent, have a look," Dudley said to Jason. Dudley moved his telescope on its tripod so that the lens poked between the curtains. He stepped behind the chair in which Jason was sitting and pushed it forward so that Jason could look through the fancy apparatus. Leaning forward a bit to look at the scene across the street was about all Jason could do. He was in his household uniform, the skimpy tee-shirt and obscene shorts with the locking belt. A slender plug was lodged up his butthole. His wrists were fastened with nylon straps to the armrests of the sturdy metal-frame chair. His ankles were pulled back and likewise fastened to the chair's hind legs. A similar strap was pulled taut across his waist, keeping the handsome young cop seated. His mouth was stuffed with his own briefs, kept in place by one of his own dirty socks tied in a knot behind his head. From behind the bound hunk, the Colonel's hands were slowly sliding down Jason's chest towards the two stiff cones punching against the tight thin cotton at the tip of his pec ridge. Having his chest teased this way always made Jason weak. The Colonel spoke softly into Jason's left ear, "It's goodbye Rick and Tom. Bet you are glad to see them go, aren't you... That hot partner of yours looks mighty happy too, doesn't he... yes, he can taste his freedom. Hope he enjoys it. It's rather an exquisite turning of the tables, you have to admit. There he is free as a bird... and here you are sliding deeper and deeper and deeper into sexual entrapment." The Colonel reached down and rubbed Jason's hard pecker through his shorts. Jason whimpered. How the fuck was this happening to him? It was like the Colonel knew some kind of secret code for making Jason instantly hard and horny. He looked at his arms and legs... all that big hairy muscle, flexing helplessly. The sight of his studly body all tied up made him even hornier. "I wonder if he will try to rescue you?" the Colonel resumed. "Maybe. Or perhaps he will remember the little game you tried to pull on him? What do you think big boy?" Jason grunted loudly into the gag and gave the Colonel a fierce look. Dudley just laughed and said, "What are they doing now?" ********** Tom gulped in fresh air, relieved to have the damp gag out of his mouth. "Fuck, Tony. I hardly got any sleep last night," he said. "Aw, come'on dude. What'd you expect? Hey, as pay-back goes, that wasn't so bad," Tony replied with a grin. "Wasn't so bad? Dude, I got mosquito bites!" Tony looked over at Pete untying Rick's ankles. The two guys laughed. "Mosquito bites, huh? Where? Here on your chest?" Tony asked. "Yeah, right there... hey, NO, don't scratch 'em, man... NO... aw shit!" Tom whined. Tony was gently scrabbling his fingers across Tom's hairy pecs. So far as he could tell, there were only three or four bites, but that would be enough to make Tom's sexy chest itch like crazy for the day. "Oh man, Tony. You're gonna get 'em all worked up... aw fuck... nnnggghhh..." Tom grunted as he watched Tony's fingers circle closer and closer to his stiffening nipples. Tom couldn't help himself. Instinctively, he flexed his big weight-trained muscles in his bonds and wiggled his booted feet. He was getting turned on and his fat cock was starting to harden-up again in his jock. "Aw heck yeah, your workin' my pecs, buddy, makin' 'em itch and I can't fuckin stop ya. I'm gonna be scratchin' my hot juicy tits all day and that's gonna fuckin' keep my dick hard... oh man!" Tom looked at Tony and saw that the cop's gym shorts were seriously tented. Tony followed Tom's gaze and noticed his own condition. He abruptly stopped playing with Tom and stood up straight. Tom saw the frown on Tony's face and smiled to himself. A thought crossed his mind, "Yeah, I might be the one tied up, but you, buddy, are still the one that's trapped... way fuckin' trapped." "Hey," Pete said. "Get him untied, will ya. I'm nearly done over here." Tony looked over and saw that Pete was untying Rick's wrists. Pete was not exactly in a hurry, but he didn't want to draw this out. Having Rick helplessly vulnerable to whatever Pete might wish to do to him was hugely tempting for the big construction boss, but he had to play his cards carefully. What he and Tony had done to Rick and Tom last night was easily explained away as pay-back for what had been done to Tony, and that is how Pete wanted Rick to remember it. Pete had to look clear of any personal sexual motives in order to keep the upper hand with his employee. One false move, his hand lingering too long on Rick's sturdy thighs, and the Machiavellian schemer might become alerted to the possibility of chipping away at his boss's macho reputation. More importantly, Pete didn't want to do anything that might compromise Tony's trust in him. "Yeah, I'm workin' on it," Tony replied. "Just havin' a bit of fun reminding Tom who's boss now," Tony said with a satisfied grin. He stepped down to Tom's boots and started untying the ropes that secured Tom's big feet to the reclining lawnchair. The backs of Tony's fingers brushed against the soft leather of the boots and in a second of distraction he ran his palm across the top of one of the boots, towards the rounded toe. Tom noticed and kept watching. Tony quickly returned both his hands back to the task of untying the multiple knots in the ropes. His hunched-over position was uncomfortable so he squatted at Tom's feet. As his hands fiddled with the tangled strands, something about the feel of the rope sent a tingle down his spine. He looked up at Tom's tanned legs. They were so big and muscular and thickly covered in dark-blond hairs. Tony's left hand dropped down to his crotch and he gave his dick a squeeze before catching himself. "What the fuck am I doin'?" he muttered. He returned to the knots. Tom flexed the muscles in his calves and thighes. If Tony had looked at Tom's face, he would have seen a huge grin. With the ankles free, Tony stepped over to Tom's right wrist. Five minutes later and both Tom's hands were free as well. Tony kneeled down behind the chair and undid the ropes that secured Tom's waist to the recliner. Tom sat up and looked at Tony. "Yeah...what?" Tony asked. "These ropes around my biceps, Tone. The knots are all over the place." "Oh yeah, hang on... here, stand up, will ya, I'm tired of bending over," Tony said. Tom pushed himself off the right side of the chair and nearly fell into Tony. "Sorry, I haven't got my balance yet and since I can't move my upper arms..." "Yeah, yeah... turn around," Tony said. "Man, what the hell was I thinkin'? I put knots in back, in front, everywhere." "Tell me about it, dude," Tom chuckled. No sooner had Tony untied a knot in back, then he had to reach around Tom's chest to untie one in front. Tom wondered why Tony didn't just spin him around. Instead, working from behind forced Tony to look over Tom's shoulder. Consequently, the two guys were pressed together, front to back. Tom could hear Tony's deep breaths as the cop subconsciously inhaled the ripe sweaty odors wafting off Tom's upper body. Tom could also feel Tony's solid pipe nestling between his butt cheeks. It was clearly twitching in those tight gym shorts he had on. When that final knot at the center of Tom's chest was loosened, the rope fell away. Tom immediately raised his arms up to stretch them. He then rolled them into a double-biceps pose. "Oh, that feels good," he said. Tony watched from behind as Tom kept his left arm pumped, but brough his right hand over to rub the soreness. "They're a little red from where the ropes dug in," Tony said looking at Tom's arm, taking in the thick muscle sheathed in that tight, sweat-covered, skin, "but, uh, that'll be gone by tomorrow, dude." Tom brought his arms down and looked over his shoulder at Tony. He let out a little sigh and in his best seductive whisper said, "Hey, man, could ya help me get that thing outta my ass. It drove me nuts all night. You really got me good there, bro." Tony looked down at the solid roundness of Tom's jockstrapped ass and swallowed. He put his left hand on Tom's back and pushed until Tom was bent over. Tony then crouched down and tentatively raised his right hand towards Tom's downy-haired butt. As he stared, he leaned in a bit. Tom thought he heard Tony sniffing. Then he felt two fingers trailing down his cleft. He smiled to himself and tried to look over his back. "Ya found it, dude?" "Huh? Oh, yeah... here, hold on a sec," Tony said, refocusing his attention. With his thumb and index finger he got a grip on the base and gently pulled. "Uunngghh!" Tom grunted. "Oh yeah, oh yeah... that's it, bro... get that thing outta there... real nice and gently... oh man, that feels better... uunggghh... OH! Hoooohhh, thanks man... whew!" Tom stood up and turned to face Tony who was still crouching, holding the slimy black butt toy in his right hand. Tom took the plug from Tony's fingers and then lifted Tony's right arm a bit. He inserted the plastic device, covered in his slippery and smelly butt juice, under Tony's right armpit. Tom then lowered Tony's arm, and pistoned the plug back and forth, effectively fucking Tony's armpit with it and wiping the plug off on the underarm of Tony's tee-shirt. Tony stayed motionless, watching what Tom was doing. His dick was now so hard it was pushing out the waistband of his shorts. "There you go, dude... all cleaned for ya. Sorry about your tee, though," Tom said with a wink. "UH HUM..." Tom and Tony looked across the porch to see Pete and Rick staring at them, each with his arms folded. Rick had a very satisfied grin, as if what he had said to Pete last night about Tony liking it, was just proven true. Pete spoke up. "Right... get packing, you two," he said to Rick and Tom. "And don't take anything that doesn't belong to you! We'll be watching." Rick headed into the house. Tom flashed his eyes at Tony and said, "Ooops!" He shrugged his shoulders, confident that he had just taught Tony a parting lesson, and followed after Rick. Tony stood up, his face red. Pete looked at him and said, "Those two are tricky. We've gotta keep an eye on 'em." To Tony's huge relief, Pete didn't seem like he was going to make anything of what he had just seen. ********** There were a few disagreements over what belonged to whom, but all-in-all, it took less than an hour for Rick and Tom to load up Tom's truck with all their worldly goods. Several of the big black plastic garbage bags were filled with the guys' dirty clothes, neither Rick nor Tom being of a mind to do their laundry on a regular basis. Rick was pissed off about leaving behind some of the gadgets he had bought - the cameras and various toys - and had tried to build a case for them belonging to him, but in the end, he had to concede since they had all been paid for with Tony's money. As Tom finished tying a tarpaulin over the back of his truck to keep things from falling out, Rick strolled over to his new Nissan and opened the door. "Carter!" Pete yelled, "aren't you forgetting something?" Rick gave him a blank look. "The keys, guy. The keys to the house. Hand 'em over," Pete said. Rick reached into his pocket, pulled a set of keys out, rattled them in the bright late-morning sun, and tossed them over to Pete. He looked over at Tom and said, "Follow me." As Tom was about to get into the cabin of his truck, Tony stopped him. "Hey buddy, just one last thing," he said. Tony took hold of Tom's left wrist and popped the latch on the big shiny metal watch. "I'll take that," he said. "Here's your's. I kept it good and safe for ya. Ha ha ha ha ha!" Tom let Tony fasten his cheap old watch back onto his wrist. "Man, this sucks," he grumbled. Tony patted him on the shoulder. "No hard feelings, dude. Now get the hell out of here and don't let me catch you speeding." Pete watched this brief parting scene with amusement. He couldn't believe what he had just heard Tony say. "What the hell is that?" Pete thought to himself. "This guy literally fucked you over and was prepared to use your body, your house, and your money for as long as it suited him and all you have to say is 'no hard feelings'? Good thing you are the hottest fuckin' muscle-stud I ever laid eyes on, Anthony Martino, because you're even dumber than I thought you were!" Fortunately for Pete, his thoughts were illegible on his smiling face. As Rick and Tom headed off down the street, Tony let out a loud whallopping "Wooo-Haaaa" and headed into the kitchen. Pete handed him a glass of orange juice. "Hey Tony, what've ya got planned for today?" Pete asked. "I wanna clean this place up a bit, but before I do that I'm goin' for a good long run. You wanna come with me?" "Naw, thanks guy, but I should get home... clean up... get a few things done. Listen, you wanna get together later this afternoon or somethin'... stoke up the grill in the backyard and lay on a few burgers... down a few brews and generally fuckin' celebrate?" Pete asked. "Totally, man. I am so fuckin' down with that. How 'bout I give you a call a little later?" said Tony. "You're on chief. Talk to ya later." Pete said. Pete grabbed his car keys off the counter and headed out the door. He shouted back, "Hey, man, have a good run!" Tony waved. "Will do, bro. Later!" He closed the kitchen door and headed towards his bedroom. His first act was to strip the sheets off his bed and throw them in the wash. He searched through his drawers again for a clean pair of briefs. Finding nothing, he scratched his head and looked about the room. His eyes landed on a pile of clothes shoved in a corner beyond the bedside table. He recognized some of his things, knelt down and started digging through the mess. He picked up a pair of his underpants and inspected them. He picked up another and another. Every pair had piss stains or large stiff encrustations of dried cum. "Awwww geeeze, those bastards were wearin' my own fuckin' briefs... shit!" Tony looked at the pair in his hands. As his thumb and index finger rubbed back and forth over the crotch, he felt the stiffness of the material. On closer look he noticed blond pubic hairs in the pouch. "Tom must have worn these," Tony muttered to himself. He brought the dirty briefs up to his nose and inhaled. He pressed them tighter, breathing in Tom's pungent crotch odor. Tony snapped his head up. "What the fuck am I doing?" He stood up and turned around, catching his reflection in the full-length mirror next to the chest of drawers on the other side of the room. With the odiferous briefs still in his left hand, he looked at his reflection. He couldn't resist smiling as he saw himself in those little white gym shorts, every contour of his tight bubble butt delineated, his thick darkly-haired legs on full display. He ran his right hand across his chest and down to the hem of his snug tee-shirt, feeling the solidity of his muscular torso. When the fingers of his right hand reached the elastic waistband of his shorts they hesitated and then slowly dipped inside. Looking in the mirror, he watched his hand fumble with the waistband of his jock, then felt his strong fingers inch their way down and around his hard cock. Tony grazed his itchy cock-tip with his thumb. He grunted and spread his legs a bit, feeling the pull of the tight shorts across the tops of his meaty thighs. He smiled at his reflection, admiring his square jaw, full lips, seductive brown eyes, and the thick brownish-black hair on his head. "Dude, you are so fuckin' handsome," he said to himself. Tony raised his left arm and pumped the bicep. "Ah yeah, fuckin' hot muscles, man..." He brought his pumped up bicep to his lips, stuck out his tongue and gave the hard muscle a couple of gentle licks. His right hand was now corkscrewing his engorged dick-knob. While Tony was licking his bicep he could smell the briefs still gripped in his left hand. He brought them back to his face and inhaled again. Using a couple of fingers he started shoving the crotch of the briefs into his mouth, watching himself in the mirror as he did it. Instantly, his salutary glands started churning out saliva, dampening the stiff, dirty cotton material as he chewed on it. Tony let out a little whimper. He brought his left hand over to his right bicep and squeezed the thick muscle. Soon he was using that hand to feel up his whole arm, sliding his sweaty palm and teasing fingers from his tee-shirt sleeve down to where his right arm ducked into his shorts. "Nnggghh... hottt phukin' arrrms... oh wyeah, big 'n haareee... phittt..." he moaned into the briefs packed into his warm mouth. On a downward slide, Tony's left hand tucked down into his shorts, sliding past his right hand and cupping his big hairy balls. He began gently squeezing his nuts with one hand while with the other, he continued tormenting the tip of his dick. "Hhhnnnnnnhhh..." Tony let out a quiet moan and sank to his knees on the bedroom carpet. He saw himself in the mirror and lusted after his own massive spread thighs. He wanted to run his hands through all that soft dark hair. "Ohhhhh... hottt musssel copph," he said through his stuffed mouth as he watched the muscles in his arms while he worked his cock and balls into a frenzy. His balls felt so warm and sweaty. They were tingling so much he thought he could feel them churning up a massive batch of his thick cop sauce. His dick was pulsing hard. While his thumb grazed the tip, stoking the intense itch, his fingers strummed the underside of the shaft, teasing the tightly stretched satiny skin. Tony closed his eyes. His mind filled with the image of his own cock. He wanted to lick it bad. He wanted the feel of a wet tongue sliding up and down his hard rod. In his mind's eye he could see himself lapping and sucking on a fat juicy cock tip. As he nursed on the delicious meat, his eyes took in the view of a firmly muscled abdomen leading up to solid jutting pecs covered in thick short brown hairs. Smiling down at him was... Pete. Tony's eyes flew open. He groaned into his gagged mouth. His dick lurched back and then boom! Wad after wad of steamy sticky man juice erupted in his shorts, pouring into his cupped hands. "UHH! Unnngh... OH! Hunnnngh... hunnngh... hunnngh... phwaaaaawww... nnnnngghhhhh... oooooohhhhhhh... mmmmmmmmmmnnn... ggggggggwwwaaah." Tony spit the briefs from his mouth, inhaled deeply and looked down at his shorts. Carefully, he pulled his hands out, trying not to spill his jism all over his jock pouch. He looked at the pools of cum in his hands. Slowly, he raised himself up onto his feet. Keeping his cupped palms in front of him, Tony walked to the kitchen. He found an empty glass on the counter and poured the gloopy contents of his hands into it, using his fingers to wipe his palms clean, making sure to get everything into the glass. He then wiped his hands on his tee-shirt and started rummaging through a couple drawers until he found what he was looking for - a basting brush. Tony dipped the brush into the cum and swirled it around, getting it good and coated. He lifted the brush out of the glass and raised his left arm, putting his left hand behind his head. He looked at his muscular arm and at the tufts of pit hair poking beyond the short sleeve of his tee-shirt. "Yeah... I'm gonna take care of you guys now... gonna get ya all nice and glossy." Tony brought the dripping brush to the edge of the shirt sleeve and tucked it under, pushing the brush down into his dense forest of black pit hair. He swiped the brush back and forth, coating his reeking armpits. "Oh man... oh man, shit yeah... I'm coatin' my pits with my own cum... gettin' those ripe hairy caverns all slicked up and sticky and even smellier... shit that's nice." Tony had to stop for a minute to adjust his dick, which had sprung back to full bonerization. He then resumed basting his left pit. When he was about half way through the cum in the glass, Tony switched hands and raised his right arm to get that pit all good and basted too. When the glass was empty, Tony put the brush down and sniffed his pits. The underarms of his tee-shirt were now damp and sticky. Tony flexed his biceps and brought his nose down to his right pit. He was utterly lost in the smell. A minute or two later he looked up at the clock on the wall. "Shit! I gotta go for my run," Tony blurted out. He grabbed the keys that hung on a string by the kitchen door and headed out. As he reached the end of the driveway, he saw the Colonel coming out the front door of his house. Dudley waved for Tony to come over. "Officer Martino, you wouldn't be going for your usual run, by any chance, would you?" "Yeah, why?" Tony asked. He hadn't given any thought to the Colonel yet, but suddenly realized there was still some sorting out to do. "I met your friend Mr. Dubro... what was his name?" "Dubrowski." "Yes, Mr. Dubrowski. I understand that things have, er, changed over at your place." "That's right Colonel." "Well, I do hope we can remain friends and that this won't interfere with, uh, my, uh, special relationship with Officer O'Reilley." "Uh huh... we'll have to see about that," Tony said noncommittally. "Yes, well, we shall talk later. Meanwhile, Jason could do with some fresh air. I think he'd like to join you on your run, if that's no trouble." "Nope. No problem. It's not exactly like I've never met him before. He is my partner on morning patrol, after all." "I'll just go get him. Won't be a minute." Jason came out the front door reluctantly. He was actually pushed by the Colonel. Tony's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Jason had on running shoes with no socks and his buff hairy chest was on full display. No big deal. Tony often ran with his shirt off. At the moment, however, Tony was thinking that it might be better for Jason to run in the nude since the one item of clothing he was wearing was a pair of bright pink satin running shorts. "Holy Pride Parade!" Tony shouted. "You look fuckin' gay, man!" Jason looked at Tony like he could strangle him. "Do not start with me, asshole," he said. Then under his breath he growled, "You fuckin' got me into this, you had better get me out of it. Hear me? You have no idea what that fucker does to me." Now it was Tony's turn to look pissed off. "You wanna bet? And as for who got who into what, we've already been over that, fucker. You were tryin' to drop me in the shit and you got caught in your own trap. So, don't whine to me about it. Anyway, just shut-up about it now. I'll come up with something. Come'on, move your pretty ass, time's a tickin'." Tony gave Jason a swat on the butt. Jason felt the first tremors of stiffening in his dick and silently prayed for it not to get full-hard. ********** Across town Rick and Tom pulled up in front of their old apartment building. They had let go of their place when they moved into Tony's house, but now having literally nowhere to go, Rick was hoping that the superintendant, might have some empty apartments. As it turned out, the place was full. "Everyone wants to live downtown these days," said Mr. Alvarez. "The rent nearly doubled for that place you used to live in. My suggestion is try over at the Barrington Arms on Poplar Street. You know, about six blocks from here." When Rick and Tom found the building, Rick grumbled, "You have got to be kidding me. This is a dump." "Yeah, well, let's not be hasty," Tom said anxiously. Half an hour later and they had signed the lease for a third-floor walk-up in back, fully-furnished, no references necessary. "Okay," Tom said, "it is a dump, but it fits our budget." Rick growled. "Let's go get our stuff." Tom saw a look in Rick's eyes that he hadn't seen in some time... not since high school when Tom had dropped by one evening to tell Rick that he was going on a date without him and ended up tied to Rick's bed getting his nuts drained while he licked out Rick's butt. After that night, Tom was firmly in Rick's control. The thought of what might be going through Rick's mind now made Tom a little worried. It also caused his dick to punch out the front of his jeans. ********** It was about 4:30 in the afternoon when Pete's mobile phone rang. He was down in his basement putting the finishing touches on one of his projects. Ever since he was a kid he had been into building things, working with wood and metal. By the time he was in high school he had made all the furniture in his bedroom. Pete's dad knew his son was a natural for the construction business. Pete was almost done working and contemplating a long shower when he picked up the telephone. "Hey, my favorite cop. How was the run, stud?" Tony told him that he had seen Jason and that they were going to have to do something to get him out of the mess he was in. "Yeah, sure, we'll fix his problem if that's what you really want." Tony made a comment about being happy to take their own sweet time and let Jason stew a bit longer. Pete burst out laughing at the news of Jason's pink running shorts. "HA! Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Man, I'd have liked to see that. So what's the plan for tonight, guy? 6:00? What's that, an hour and a half from now? Yeah, that's perfect, man. Okay, I'll bring the beer. See ya in a bit," Pete said. Tony put the phone down and looked at his watch. "Right, shower first, then the supermarket," he said to himself. He looked in the fridge to see what else they might need, like salad or condiments. Tony took a little longer than usual scrubbing himself clean in the shower. Jason had told him that he really reeked. He decided to skip giving himself a shave, heck, it was only Pete coming over for a little bar-b-que. He dried off, styled his hair and walked out into his bedroom before he realized that "Fuck! I've got no clean clothes!" Tony walked over to his closet and kicked through the things lying on the floor until he found an old pair of jeans. "Damn, where are my new Levi's and where the heck is the rest of my stuff. Those fuckers took most of my clothes. I'll have to see if Pete can get those two jerks for fork over what they took from me." Tony pulled the jeans on, barely getting the top button fastened. Then he remembered that the last time he had worn these jeans was about five years ago, when he was 20 years old. He was bigger now. He fished around until he found an old white button-down shirt. He slipped it on and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, letting the shirt-tails hang outside his pants. He had a pair of sandals somewhere in the closet, but for whatever reason, on the spur of the moment Tony decided he would stick his freshly cleaned dogs back into his raunchy-smelling sneakers. As he tied the laces he felt his dick plump up a bit, but didn't pay it any attention. Tony snapped on his watch. "Sheesh, forty-five minutes? I'd better get a move on," he thought. He stuffed his wallet into his back pocket, checked himself in the mirror, and grabbed his car keys. Pete pulled into the parking lot, making sure to have a clear view of the entrance to the supermarket. He was taking a chance that Tony had not already gone inside, but he had cruised the lot a bit and hadn't seen Tony's car. He opened his binoculars and waited. He didn't have to wait long. Within five minutes he saw Tony enter through the sliding glass doors. Pete put his truck in gear and headed to Tony's place. Of course, he'd be there when Tony got home, but that was easily explained away - he was in a good mood and couldn't wait to get the evening started. Plus, he'd tell Tony he was hungry, which had the merit of being true. All told, Pete figured he had about fifteen minutes from the time he got to Tony's to unload his truck. Then he just had to keep Tony out of the basement. While pulling into Tony's driveway he reached down and felt his pocket to make sure he still had the keys Rick had tossed to him earlier.