Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/C/COP.1

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 20.6 KB | 425 lines

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COP SEX - By Sam Rad
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<C> Sam Rad

It's one of those warm nights in early summer when you're driving
down the highway and it's just you, the road and the night.
Windows down, the air is rich and thick.

I'm cruising down Route 3 and there are few other cars on the
road. I'm doing well over the speed limit. I mean does anybody
really drive 55 normally, much less when they're practically the
only one on the road? Who cares?

Apparently someone cares. And apparently someone is concerned
about my driving speed, even if I'm not. "Fucking A," I say out
loud when I see the bubble lights flashing in my rear view
mirror. "Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn." You know, I really don't
need this tonight. Here I am minding my own business and some
asshole cop with nothing better to do decides he needs to make
his quota for the night or something. I didn't even see this
dip-shit; where the hell was he pulled over? "Damnit, damnit,
damnit!"

So I pull over like a good do-bee, or rather like someone who
knows better. What do they say; when it looks inevitable just lay
back and enjoy it? Well, I wasn't expecting to enjoy this, but at
this point it was certainly inevitable.

He gets out of his car. Flashlight swinging along the roadside as
he approaches my car. I'm fishing in the glove compartment for my
registration when he gets to the window and the flashlight goes
right to my hand in the glove box. Never can be too sure, I think
to myself. If I were a cop I'd certainly be concerned about
people pulling guns out of their glove boxes.

"Do you know how fast you were going?" he says with all the
originality in the world.

I'm usually quick with the come-backs, and I want to say, "Not
fast enough, apparently," but--good-old me--I think better of it.
"I guess I wasn't really paying attention," I say with all the
tact in the world.

His light has searched the front seat and the back seat and now
is concentrating on my face. "Eighty-four," he says.

Big fucking deal, I think. "That much?" I say.

"Your license and registration, please." I'm already handing it
to him. He points his flashlight at it momentarily, then he
points it back at me. Yeah, that's me in the picture, all right.
He looks at my license again and studies it then points the light
back at me. I'm pretty well lighted by it, but he's seen my face
and now he doesn't seem to be concentrating on that. The light is
going up and down my body. Nah..., I think. He goes back to
looking at my papers.

With the light off me for the moment, I can see him better, so
I'm checking him out. Now this is a cop! I don't mind telling you
that I have a certain weakness for uniforms. I also have a
weakness for hot men and I happen to be staring at one now. He's
at least 6' 3", broad-shouldered and definitely well-assembled.
The Smokey-the-Bear hat on the square-jawed face with the dark
moustache is almost too classic. He's even got the wide belt with
the over-the-shoulder strap, high boots and jodhpurs (you know;
those riding pants that are wide on the sides over the thigh, but
trim in the ass and tight below the knee). He's also got what
seems to be a nicely full basket which is staring me in the face
through the car window.

Well, I don't know how long my gaze was dumbly fixed on his
basket, and I don't know how long he's been watching me like
that. But he finally gives a little, "Ahem," and I look up to see
him watching me watching him.

Everything is suspended for a moment. My eyes don't want to look
at his face and I don't want to get locked back onto his basket,
so I just kind of nervously scan his torso, blink a few times and
turned around to look at the steering wheel. What the fuck am I
doing? Cruising a cop who's giving me a ticket? I must be out of
my mind.

"Step out of your car, please," he says to me abruptly. I let out
a sigh of exasperation. Shit, shit, shit, I'm thinking to myself.

"Walk around to the other side, please." I'm walking. "Face the
side of the car and put your hands up on the roof."

I can't believe this is happening. "What'd I do?" I say.

"Just follow my instructions, please." This guy is real polite.

I face the car and put my hands on the roof. He comes up in back
of me, puts his foot between mine and kicks my feet side to side.
"Spread your legs, please."

I still can't believe this is happening. He starts to frisk me.
I'm not feeling particularly guilty about anything, but I am
starting to worry. He pats down my sides real fast, then the
outside of my legs, then the inside real lightly. It could be
erotic, but he's being too professional.

"Are you looking for someone?" I say.

"I'll ask the questions," he says gruffly.

What gives? I'm thinking.

He starts frisking me again, only this time he's being more
thorough. He reaches around my chest and is checking my pecs.
He's checking my pecs very thoroughly. Then he's checking my
stomach. Very thoroughly. He's actually running his hands up and
down my chest and my belly. I can't imagine him not being able to
find a gun or something the first time around. Dope, I think,
he's looking for dope. I relax a bit; I'm certainly not worried
about that. His hands are exploring the top front of my pants,
now down a little and around my crotch. Without grabbing my
basket, he's groping around it, now down lower and into my upper
thighs. He goes down the inside of my thighs down to my knee then
around to the outside and backs of my thighs and up. Up to my
ass. He's actually squeezing my ass and digging into my crack.
His hands are going down under my crotch from the back. His hand
wanders around front again only this time it goes right for my
basket. It's squeezing my balls and discovering the outline of my
enlarging cock.

"Hey, I'm clean, man," I say. I'm sure I sound like a dealer now.

He says nothing. He's got one hand in my crotch, he's groping my
cock and balls, and he's being very thorough about all this. And
I am a little more than a bit turned on.

"Turn around," he says. I do and he's checking me up and down.
There's nothing I can do to conceal the lump in the front of my
pants. And it's not like he misses it. But he's not saying much.

"Okay. Step back here and get into the cruiser." And I'm
thinking, Come on, you've had your jollies, just give me the
fucking ticket and let me go. I go to get in the front.

"Get in the back," he barks. I'm real confused. I get in the
back. He gets in the front. He pushes a button that locks the
doors all around. There are no buttons in the back to unlock the
doors. He puts the car into gear.

"Hey, what's going on here," I say wittily. "Am I under arrest or
something? What about my car? Aren't you supposed to read me my
rights or something?"

"Just sit tight. Everything's going to be all right." I can't
believe I'm letting myself be at all consoled by this remark
since, as far as I'm concerned, everything is definitely not all
right. I sit back into the seat. I'm looking around and I'm
thinking, What the fuck...

He pulls off the highway at the next exit. I don't know where I
am, but I'm thinking I'm about to see gas stations, a highway, a
town. Nope. Nothing. This is a dark road. Any time now we'll see
a town. Like one with the police station or something. Anything.
But no, all we get is dark road. I'm quite apprehensive, sitting
here in the back of a cop car, watching the back of this cops
head, the only lights being the headlights of the cop car and
there ain't much to light except road and trees in the night.

He slows the car and pulls off on an unpaved road. No lights, no
police station, no more pavement; just trees and bushes and a
rougher ride. He's going slow now and then there's a barn up
ahead. He pulls up to it. I don't like this.

He stops the car. He gets out. He opens the back, grabs my arm
and leads me out of the car. He leads me over to the barn and
into it. He's got one of those kind of lights that lights up a
whole area and as we step into the barn I'm looking all around
it. He leads me into the back of the barn. I am totally
bewildered. I'm breathing heavily; I'm not in control here.

"Please," I'm saying. "What are we doing here?"

He drops my arms and I stand there while he puts down the light a
few feet away. He turns and looks at me, and I'm standing there
looking at this hunk of a cop who has taken off his hat and who
is staring at me sort of hungrily, and I'm feeling totally naked.

"Strip," he says evenly.

My eyes widen and I stare dazedly back at him. I can't believe
this is happening. My mouth opens to say something, but nothing
comes out.

"Strip!" he says more harshly, and he's pulled a riding crop out
of the side of his boot and he slaps it against the side of his
leg.

I'm frightened and shaking and I don't know what to do. And my
fingers go to the buttons on my shirt and I start to un-button a
button. I'm telling myself this isn't happening and I manage to
get another button open as I work them from the top down. I pull
the tails out all around and I'm staring at this guy and I'm
feeling really turned on and really frightened.

I pull open my shirt to expose my chest and I push it off my
shoulders and pull it off my body and drop it into the hay. And
I'm standing there naked to the waist and this guy is taking in
the sight of my swimmer's build and my smooth and muscled chest.
I'm six-foot tall in my stocking feet but I'm feeling real small
right now and I'm quivering perceptibly.

I look back at him.

"Strip," he says with that evenness again.

I let out the breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding and
gasp it back in. I lean against this post and pull off my shoes
and I pull off my socks. The hay is rough and soft on my bare
feet.

I look at him pleadingly; he issues the command again silently
with a widening of his eyes.

My trembling fingers go to my belt and unfasten it. They unbutton
the top of my pants. One hand holds the top of my pants while the
other one grabs the zipper and begins to pull it down. With my
pants open, I drop my hands momentarily and look at the cop who
is watching with keen interest. My hands hear his unspoken
command again, go to the waist band and begin pushing down. I am
feeling the fabric of my pants as it bunches up then exposes my
underwear. I am pushing them down as the fabric slides down my
thighs then exposes my legs. I push them down further and pull
off one leg then the other and drop them next to me on top of my
shirt. I straighten up, and the straining, prominent bulge in my
crotch is doing little to conceal itself.

I am breathing hard and looking at him. I am standing there clad
only in my underwear with a bulge in my crotch. He walks toward
me and I am frozen. He walks around back of me and I am still
staring at the place where he stood. He slips his riding crop
into the band of my underwear and pushes it down the crack of my
ass. He presses it against my butthole, then pulls it back out.
My briefs snap back. He hauls off and smacks my underweared ass
with the crop. I am too stunned to do anything but jump.

He walks around front to where he had been. He stands there and
crosses his arms and looks at me sternly.

"I want to see your dick."

My mind is saying no and my body is trembling. My hands are
shaking. Somehow I move my hands to the waistband of my
underwear. I pause, shaking. I glance up at him; I am breathing
hard and I pause. Then I look at the ground a few feet in front
of me and I push down my drawers. They get caught on my dick and
I have to wrestle it free. I push them down my legs, feeling my
ass totally exposed as I bend over, and I step one foot out and
then the other.

I drop my underwear with my other clothes and straighten myself
back to standing. I am totally naked and exposed to this
uniformed cop. My rock-hard ten inch dick is jutting out in front
of me and I my hot balls are exposed and dangling down between my
legs. My cock and my balls and my naked body are exposed and
vulnerable to this cop.

He is looking at my genitals with his head slightly cocked, a
slight pleased-looking smile on his face, and a certain lust in
his eyes. He walks over to me and is looking me up and down.
Again he goes behind me and again I do not turn. I can hear him
make an approving "Hmpf" behind me and I hear a clink of metal.

He grabs my hand and slaps a handcuff on it, then reaches in
front of me, takes my other wrist and cuffs that.

"Please," I am saying almost crying, "What do you want?" He pulls
me over to a support beam and pulls my hands up to a hook above
my head where he attaches the cuffs. I am facing the beam and
hanging right up against it and I can feel its roughness on my
skin, especially where my hard cock is pressing up against it.
Behind me, he puts his foot between mine like he did on the
highway and pushes my feet apart, spreading my legs. He steps to
the side of me and I turn to watch him unhooking his shoulder
strap. He disconnects it from his belt in front and back and
drops it on the ground. Then he unbuckles his belt and draws it
out through the loops. I am watching him do this not knowing what
to expect. Still on the side of me, he swings the belt and
catches me on the ass. I jump with the shock and the pin on my
buttocks and my jump pushes my cock into the rough beam. His
enjoyment of my discomfort and my wincing is apparent. He swings
the belt again, it smacks my ass, and I jump again. He swings
again and I'm throwing my head back, struggling against the cuffs
that keep me hung on this post and I'm struggling against the
biting belt on my bare buttocks. He moves behind me and swings
again and the belt snaps against my sensitive asshole. He belts
my butthole and beats my ass until I know it must be red as hell.
He's still swinging and I'm writhing against the post. My ass,
trying to escape the torment of the belt is pushing my balls into
the rough post, crushing my rock-hard cock. The belt bites again
and again, and my chest and stomach are struggling against the
post and my sensitive tits are scraping against the rough wood.
My cock is rubbing up and down the rough wood as I writhe and
it's oozing pre-cum and straining for release.

I don't realize that he's stopped right away; there are too many
sensations. I'm still hanging there pressed against the upright
which, though rough and scraping, is my friend for protecting and
caressing my vulnerable front.

He reaches above me and unhooks me from the support beam, but
he's holding my hands up there still. He reaches around in front
of me and grabs my stiff cock and uses it like a handle to turn
me around. He then hooks me back in place only now with my front
exposed and my ass pressing into the beam. He kicks my feet apart
again and steps back.

He can see the fear in my face, I'm sure, as I'm hanging there,
arms stretched above my head. My body stretched and taut, my
belly flat and my red circumcised cock sticking stiffly up in
front of me exposing my full balls to his view. He eyes me
approvingly then swings his belt at me. It snaps me square in the
balls and I throw back my head and let out a yell. He swings it
again and gets me in the balls again, then goes after my stiff
red cock and makes it sting. And his belt hits under the shaft
and on the sides and snaps at the sensitive head. And I'm
writhing and screaming and my cock is oozing all over. He snaps
the belt and the tip just catches my tit and smacks it cruelly.
Then he snaps my other tit the same way and I'm screaming and
struggling and can't do a thing about it. He swings at my balls
again and I convulse in pain. The belt smacks and stings my cock
again and harder on my balls and it slaps my tits and my crotch
and my chest and I'm writhing and screaming and my cock feels
like it's about to burst and it's oozing clear cum-juice all
over.

Then he drops the belt. He walks up to me and I think he's going
to let me down. But he grabs my balls roughly and he's looking
into my face with a demonic leer, and he's twisting my balls and
I'm looking back at him with my mouth open and my ass writhing
against the rough wood with the grip he has on my balls as he
squeezes them. And he twists my balls and I'm afraid he's going
to twist them right off and it hurts like hell but my cock is
still oozing like a leaky faucet. Then his other hand takes one
of my tits and starts twisting that and he's twisting my balls
and twisting my tit and I'm moaning loudly. He switches hands on
my balls and grabs the other tit and he's twisting my balls and
my tits real hard and squeezing my balls and twisting them hard.

Then he grabs my cock with his rough calloused hands and strokes
it roughly a few times. I am about to explode in orgasm just as
he lets go and I am caught on the brink, but don't quite make it
over.

He walks a few feet back, still in front of me. He stands there
and looks at me panting. I'm afraid of what might happen next and
am hoping against hope that it's all over.

Then he starts un-buttoning his shirt. He pulls out the tails and
throws it on the ground. He's wearing a T-shirt underneath. He
leans against a beam and pulls off one boot then the other and
both his socks. The whole time he is looking at me. And I want
nothing more than to watch him and he pulls up his T-shirt
exposing his hot and muscled belly and chest. His chest has thick
hair that swirls over his well-developed pecs and around his taut
brown nipples. This guy obviously works out. The hair collects
between his pecs and descends in a line through well-defined abs
then disappears into the waist band of his trousers. The T-shirt
comes off his head and slightly dishevels his hair, giving him a
sort of little boy look. He's looking at me, his lips slightly
parted as he's pulling the T-shirt off his thickly muscled arms
in front of him. He throws it onto the ground with the shirt.

I'm hung on a beam totally naked with a raging hard-on in front
of me and I'm staring at this hunk of an athlete-cop who is
masculinity and boyishness personified. And my cock is making
involuntary throbs like it has just cum all over the place.

He stands there and watches me, watching my face and taking in my
body; taking in my rigid cock pulsing in front of me.

And he reaches for his pants. He unhooks the top and pulls down
the fly. He looks at me again, then hooks his thumbs into the
waistband and pushes them down. He's wearing short boxer shorts
underneath and this time the gigantic bulge in his underwear is
doing nothing to conceal itself. He drops his pants in the pile
and stands and looks at me. He looks military now, somehow. It
must be the boxer shorts or the tattoo I've just noticed on his
arm. But he's standing there almost naked with nicely muscled
legs looking handsome as hell, and he is so hot I can hardly
stand it.

He turns around now with his broad, V-shaped back to me. His
hands go to the waistband of his boxer shorts. Slowly they begin
to push down. The small of his back gives way to the outward
curve of his upper ass. I've always thought this was one of the
sexiest parts of a man. He pushes the shorts down further over
the rising twin mounds of his ass and the valley appears between
the cheeks. He pushes them down further and they cross the top of
the mounds and jump down the other side to his thighs. This man's
ass is magnificent. It's not a boy's ass, but a man's ass. It is
perfectly molded and muscular with a slight amount of hair
growing into the crack. He bends to push the shorts off and the
valley widens to reveal a dark moist abyss below backed by the
outline of a dangling ball-sack.

I am weak with the splendor of Eros before me. Even the back of
his head is sexy above the solid neck and the broad shoulders.
And the muscled back that tapers to the trim waist and the ripe,
luscious ass-cheeks below. When I die I want to be buried with my
face in these buns.

Then the vision moves and begins to turn, it seems to me in
slow-motion. First I see the profile of his chest and the outline
of a tit and the well-formed legs and the hip. And his
magnificence moves into view.

The hair that ran around his navel comes down and widens into a
dark full bush of hair backed by the muscles of his lower abdomen
and thighs. And his magnificent cock stands fully erect and
proud, straight and huge, mighty and veined. It is perfectly
circumcised with a pink engorged head and a wide slit at the top.
His full balls hang massively beneath and I feast my eyes on the
most beautiful equipment I've seen on a man. I don't know if he
knows I am stunned, but even immobile as I am he must see the
look of awe on my face. At any rate, he does not move while I
take in the splendor and raw sex of his body.