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Greg--My Well-Hung Policeman

By SubmarineBoy2005

submitted October 21, 2005

Categories: Cops, Bondage, Exhibitionism, Outdoor Sex, Sex On The Road, True Stories

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I was jittery with nerves as I picked up the phone and the card and started punching in the numbers. My friend Lee had known I was lonely, but, really, giving me the number of his ex, a cop named Greg? I had to wonder about this. If Greg was worth having, why was Lee not still with him? If Greg was not, then why waste my time? Still, I thought of the I. P. D. uniform, dark blue and well-fitting, on the officers etched into my memory, as I'd seen them downtown, on motorcycles, on horses, keeping the peace on the well-traveled streets around the Circle and the main thoroughfares. Lee had told me Greg was about 5'10", handsome, with coal-black hair and blue eyes, a good muscular physique, and a huge horse cock. When it had come time for Lee to describe it, all he could do was hold out two fingers, at what seemed to be a foot apart, and I knew from the way his eyes seemed to cross that it could drive a bottom boy mad with desire. Things hadn't worked out between them, and they had been split up for several years. Lee assured me I would be Greg's type.

The phone rang, and I wondered again about the sense in this. Too late to change my course now, I thought. Someone picked up. "Ello?" A clipped male voice asked.

"Um, Hi. Is this Greg?" I asked, unsure of how to begin, or how to phrase this. How do you tell a police officer his ex recommended him to you for some wild times? I balked at the sheer audacity of telling him such a thing.

"Yes, this is him." Greg had an affable, likeable voice, deep enough, with an uncertain quality that came through in it.

"Well, um, my name is Parry, um, I'm a friend of Lee's . . . " I trailed off, not wanting to piss him off by suggesting I could be his, like he would care to have me, sight unseen, as if handsome cops weren't hit on constantly already. "He gave me your number, thinking we might hit it off. That is, he thought I might be your type, and described you to me, so I knew you'd be my type . . ." I realized I was rambling, and I stopped myself.

"Oh, okay," Greg seemed to take this all in stride, and his voice warmed up. "So what are you like?"

"Um, I'm a smaller guy, blond hair, blue eyes, often told I'm handsome. I'm a former gymnast with a swimmer's build, toned, flexible." I told him matter-of-factly how guys had described me as though giving a weather report so I wouldn't risk sounding immodest. "Good in bed," I added as an afterthought.

"Well, Parry, I tell you what," he drew out each word of a proposition as it formed in his mind, perhaps savoring the situation as it too developed. "I have to be on duty at ten o'clock tonight, but if you'd like to meet me at an abandoned park, that would be great. We could see each other face-to-face."

"That would be nice," I said. I got the location from him, and he told me when to be there, and we said our goodbyes. I couldn't believe how well this was turning out.

That night I waited for Greg at the abandoned park for what seemed like an hour or two. Was I being blown off? Was this some kind of set-up for an arrest? I had known Lee for years; there was no way that could be happening--was there? Finally I saw a ghostly white patrol car cruise up the street toward me and pull into the park entrance. He was here. He made a circuit of the parking lot, and turned on the white light mounted onto the driver's side mirror as he approached my SUV, so that I had to cover my eyes with my hands. He could see me, but I could not see him. Backing into the space by my vehicle, the police cruiser stopped and shut down its lights, including the offending search light. I looked over at the window next to mine, but it was shaded to black. A long moment passed, during which I assumed he appraised me through the mirror glass of his window. At last I got out, opened the passenger door beside me, and sat down in the police car, surrounded by the accoutrements of the trade, night stick and flashlight jammed into the space between seats, metal box full of incident reports on the floor, laptop computer mounted to the dash almost in my face, and a harness mounted to the seat I was sitting in that had other flashlights of various sizes and several pairs of handcuffs.

Greg was smiling at me, a toothy grin made more feral by the fact his teeth, though white, were not all perfectly straight. He had especially pronounced canines. I probably would have thought about what those would be like raking down my neck and chest, if I wasn't taken aback by the uniform. I have always had a thing for the man in uniform, his power, his authority, his mandate to protect and serve, and the fact that it just looked damned good! It was winter, and Greg wore a black turtleneck sweater with his uniform shirt over it, starched crisp military creases on each side of his chest running down over the ridge formed by the Kevlar armor I knew would be underneath. Gold buttons and the shield of his badge highlighted this vision of sheer masculinity, and his shoulder sported the CB mouthpiece and curled cord disappearing into his armpit. His broad black leather belt supported a variety of tools, the prominent holstered gun on his hip, a larger walkie-talkie radio at the other side, and other things I could not identify. His navy blue trousers were nicely fit around muscular thighs and a prominent bulge. As I was told, he had black hair, not very long, and blue eyes, and was handsome, with a lean, predatory face, and those prominent eye teeth. "Ello," he greeted me.

"Greg, I assume," I said to break the ice. "I was starting to wonder if you'd show up . . ." I was leading him to see if he was habitually late or forgetful, or if he was making a point about who would be in charge here.

"Oh, sorry about that," he replied. "There was a domestic disturbance and I had to respond." Suddenly I was so turned on at his performance of what were, after all, his routine duties. I was glad he was on patrol to keep us average citizens safe. I felt safer just being in his presence.

We talked for an hour or so to get to know each other, and I discovered Greg was smart, book smart, and had honed his street smarts since becoming a cop. There wasn't much that happened in our city that he didn't know about, and he knew the politics of why things happened as they did. I was really liking him, and thinking about how to get him out of his uniform, or at least to get his uniform fly open to get to that fabled cock, when he suddenly grinned at me and said, "I know a place just on the other side of this road where we can have a lot more privacy." It was like he read my mind. I got back in my sport-utility, cold as it had become, fired up the engine and followed him. I was shaking, certainly with the cold, but also with anticipation. I had dated two cops before, but never did anything with an on-duty officer, in a public place. This was shaping up to be a night to remember!

He led me to an industrial complex which was quite simply across the street, although shrouded by tall evergreens on the side facing the road. Here and there in its parking lot was a smattering of cars, a trucker, a loader, an attendant. I worried that we wouldn't be truly alone. Around the back and one side was a service road which was well-hidden, almost camouflaged. On it we parked our cars, his bright white light illuminating the back of mine. I got out and walked back to his squad car. He was just getting out, and I asked him about the workers here at this time of night. He said, "They're used to the police patrolling their lots. Don't worry about it. But now I have a question for you. I ran your license plate on my computer, which brings up all your information. Were you planning on telling me you're driving on a suspended license?" He raised one eyebrow.

"I didn't think I should tell you," I stammered. "I was sure we could talk about it later . . . " A sudden mischievous thought occurred to me, and I knew it was just what he wanted. I put on my most innocent face. "You're not going to arrest me, are you, Officer?"

"Well, we can discuss it. I'm sure if you take good care of me, I can let it slide," he said with an arch look and heavy innuendo. I dropped to my knees before my handsome stud Officer.

"Would this please you?" I asked as I reached for his fly, over his mounded crotch. I spread his combat boots with my knees as I lowered that zipper and reached inside for the treasure I'd been imagining since hearing about it from his ex-lover, who had given him to me. I fumbled in his uniform pants with his jockey shorts, getting the waistband down beneath his balls as I pulled his prodigious cock free, into the bright white light of his search beam. I marveled at it, easily seven inches cut and hanging down like a bratwurst, but beginning to fill up and stretch out. I stroked it lightly, and then put it to my lips. At last I would get to serve a policeman on duty as he served the people, taking care of him, surrendering to his authority! This was a moment I had dreamed of. His cock, rising as it distended, parted my lips and I took it full into my mouth, its tremendous girth stretching my mouth in a way I couldn't remember any cock stretching me. I don't think I ever had one so thick in my life. But I was determined to take as much of it in my mouth as possible, and to bring Greg all the pleasure I could. I stroked with my fist on the base of his cock, with my other hand cupping his egg-sized balls, as his meat plowed into my throat, now long enough to fill my fist and mouth at the same time.

I sucked, spreading my lips wide to accommodate his near-beer-can thickness, and I jacked it into my mouth at the same time. I gripped his hips, my hand under his gun holster, and pulled him in close. He was leaning back against the grille of his cruiser, but leaned forward to fuck my face, and was really getting into it. Thrusting his massive tool in my mouth, he rammed at the entrance to my throat, and I strained to tame my gag reflex to accept him into that void, to take him deeper than any cock I had known before had penetrated my face, my neck, to lodge the head of his cock in my chest.

Greg hunched over me, and with the way he was forcing his huge billy club into my mouth and throat, I thought he might just rip my lips apart, or break my jaw, but if that was to be my fate, I welcomed it. I would rather die sucking this mammoth cop cock than live without ever tasting it. My spit ran down onto his balls, making them moist where they swelled against my chin. My breath steamed into the cold night air, making a twin chimney with Greg's. As I sucked I looked him up and down, drinking in the sight of him in his magnificent uniform, my dashing policeman. I unzipped and pulled forth my dick and began to jack it off with my left hand as I jacked him with my right and sucked him, swirling my tongue around the head of his monster meat. His breath was coming ragged now, and I knew he was close, so I applied pressure and sped up the pace of my downward lunges to envelop him in my throat while my fingers worked the base of his ballsack, where it held down the waistband of his boxer briefs. He let out a stifled wail, his muscles all spasmed violently, almost unhinging my jaw, and load after load of his spunk emptied itself into my throat, welling up around the head of his cock behind my tonsils to fill my mouth.

I swallowed as quickly as I could, to keep my stud policeman's prize sperm from gushing out onto my chest or his uniform pants, gulping again and again. Greg's strong hands on the back of my neck, pushing me in before, now pulled me back, easing me off his spent member, which was now deflating as it slid out of my mouth. He shuddered with the strength of his ejaculation and the way it had drained him, and my eager tongue lapped the last drops from the head of his tool as it hovered in the cold air before my face, rapidly shrinking to a normal size. "Thanks," Greg said with an easy, genuine smile. "I guess I won't arrest you . . . this time." I got to my feet, we got in the squad car to warm up, and he took my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine. "I'd like to take you out sometime soon," he said.

Going out on a date with Greg was nice because he took me in the police car, the only vehicle he really drove despite owning others. He could park anywhere he wanted, and no one said anything about it. I felt a strange thrill getting out in the middle of downtown, even though my policeman was in civilian clothes, the people out on the streets had to know we were a gay couple, two men in civvies getting out of a police cruiser. Over dinner Greg told me all about himself, his life, his family, and I kept liking him more and more. When we got back to his apartment, we settled on the couch to watch a movie, and I was very aware of his powerful thigh pressed against my smaller one.

Soon his fingers were tracing light lines along my leg, and I recognized a familiar stirring in my groin. Greg noticed the tenting of my jeans, because he quickly grabbed for the cause of it. My cock surged to life to his touch, and I think a drop of pre-cum oozed forth into my skivvies. Next thing I knew Greg got up to stand over me, and began to undress me, pulling my shirt over my head and undoing my fly. When he raised my ankles to his waist, he slipped off my Harley-Davidson boots and pulled my jeans off in one swift fluid motion. Suddenly I was exposed before him, his for the taking. Gingerly, he knelt on the hardwood floor, tenderly he put his mouth to my lightly hairy belly, and began orally massaging me. He felt out all the contours of my six-pack with his tongue, and explored my belly button, before moving further south and latching his strong fingers into the band of my briefs, whisking them away to the floor and tossing them aside.

As his warm tongue wet the head of my dick, I was in heaven. That single drop of pre-cum was his as an after-dinner mint, and I could tell he savored it. He enveloped my cock, sliding it around with his tongue, then raised my knees to his shoulders to expose other areas of interest. He gave a tongue-bath to my balls and all around my butthole, and I was hot and eager to have this strong stud in me, to feel his powerful thrust, the long appendage of the law teaching me who was in control here. I moaned, and my hole opened and closed of its own accord, grasping at only air where it longed for that huge cop nightstick.

Greg was tasting the skin along my inner thigh, which was both a tickly sensation from his light touch, but also very sensual and seductive. His five o'clock shadow rubbed all along the inside of my thigh and scrotum, and I thought I would scream, or cum, or just die of ecstasy. He felt my inner turmoil of desire and pleasure, and looked up at me expectantly.

"Wanna go in the bedroom?" we asked together. Once there and I got him as naked as I was, marveling at his chest muscles and the trail of black hair across his nipples and down his belly, I was eager to return the favor of the crotch exploration he had given me. We crawled up on the sheets, and I nuzzled and kissed him, then buried my face in his most private areas as I had on the cold deserted service road mere nights ago. He fell over on his back and I knelt on all fours to service him. As I did, his monster tool distended in the way I had seen happen to it before, growing from a mouthful, to more than a mouth- and throat full.

Releasing this mammoth prick, which was too large for me to contain there without serious concentration, I went for his balls, his thighs, tickling and stimulating him as he had me. He moaned in pleasure, and his head thrashed. After a while he rolled me onto my back, and sat straddling my chest, pushing his fully erect man missile in my face, ready to have me service it again. I rubbed his lower back and round muscular butt cheeks with my hands as I raised my head to swallow this huge member once more. I was beginning to realize just how stimulating it was to suck something so large, such a monument to raw masculinity. I stroked my cock, cupping my balls with my other hand, pulling them up tight, as his amazing phallus slid in and out of my mouth, propelled by his muscles with an answering neck motion from me, as we found singularity of purpose in getting this hot cop fuck stick off.

I was just taking about half of it in my mouth from this angle, and even with that half, occasionally it hit the back of my throat with such force that I gagged involuntarily, but I wouldn't let that stop me. I wanted a mouthful of his semen once more, to again savor the salty tang of his man juice. Suddenly I was coming, just imagining having once already had that tasty treat, and being about to be favored with it again. It was too much to bear, and without slowing my face going down on that cock, I was shooting harder and farther than I could remember ever having shot, spraying his back as he sat upon me, the last couple of spritzes falling a shorter distance to my tensed belly.

I must have sounded like a ravaging Wildebeast, trying to draw substantial breaths through my nose to suck in past the humongous obstruction insinuating itself deep into my mouth, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. That may have been the best orgasm of my life! And it was enough to get Greg excited enough to offer me his seed once more. He threw back his head, and with a roar of triumph shot for me, geyser after geyser. I was ready this time, and drank it as it was shot into my waiting throat.

That was the first of many nights I spent in Greg's arms; they happened with the frequency of nights he was not on duty. And I soon learned he had other varied interests. Much as I loved seeing him resplendent in his uniform, and especially getting him out of his uniform a piece at a time, he loved exerting his authority. He had said he wasn't going to arrest me, but actually he did . . . quite often. He would ask if I had been bad, and after I thought about it and admitted I had been a very bad boy, he would whip out the cuffs and slap them on me. Usually when that happened he pushed me in front of him to the bed, pushing me face first onto it, and then would proceed to undress me. Since he couldn't get my shirt off me without undoing the cuffs, he would then get the rest of his pairs of handcuffs and lay me out spread-eagled, chained to his wrought-iron frame. Then he could do whatever he wanted with me. Tickling and oral stimulation were among his favorites, working up to lubing up my ass and getting me ready with a powerful finger or three, or sitting on my chest so I could get a taste of that dick I loved so much. He was consistently amazed that, when he freed my left hand to jack while he plowed my mouth out, it always got me off.

Still, we could not remain as we were forever; I was leaving for the Navy, and Greg knew it. The last time we were together physically and sexually before I left, it was New Year's Eve, and he would have to go to patrol the city streets later in the evening. But he had something special in mind for us. He placed the handheld camera on the edge of the chest of drawers, so that he would have something to remember our affair by. He reasoned that since he was an Officer, and I would be a Sailor, neither of us could afford for this footage to get out, so it was okay that we would show our faces.

It would be his memento. A big triangular wedge of foam was placed in the middle of the bed, my rump to the sky over the squared off end, my face close to the bed on the receding end. My ankles were handcuffed wide apart, and my wrists straight out in front of me attached to the headboard, the reach of all the handcuffs extended with lengths of twine. I shuddered once again, naked in the cool air under Greg's ceiling fan, but also with the dreadful anticipation of being penetrated on film, that indelible medium, waiting for the reassurance of having him on me to keep me warm, both inside and out. I didn't have long to wait. Greg approached the bed, his prodigious schlong already swollen well beyond any average measurement.

Red and angry, it was ready for me, eager to fuck out this blond boy and seed his tight ass with dripping cum. Again my asshole clenched and unclenched, ready for it as well. Greg had already lubed me and eased a few fingers around in my rectum, preparing me for what was to happen. Without preamble, he climbed up onto the bed, laid a kiss on my shoulder as he mounted me, set his cock to the eye of my butthole, and started sliding in. I reeled with his penetration, as always.

Even taking this two or three times a week it is hard to be ready for something that large to go in what is essentially an out door. The pain quickly faded, and Greg slowly prodded me, back and forth, loosening me up, waiting for me to be ready to take more. Soon that prodding became more insistent, and that insistence became urgency, and that urgency erupted into furious bareback fucking. I was at least as rock-hard as he was, and while I humped back against his thrusts, slung over the foam wedge as I was, I wanted so badly to touch my dick, thinking one touch would bring a gushing ejaculation for sure.

As the last inch or two of his cock disappeared into my ass, my thrusting back onto him became painful--I had discovered that with him in some positions, his dick head hit me at the entrance to my colon and could not push past. However, it was good pain, like seeing into another realm where pain and pleasure mixed. I screwed up my face to take whatever he could dish out, even if it meant being ripped open like a gutted pig. Greg must have seen this, or just wanted to try other positions, because he got the keys to the handcuffs, and freed me.

Tossing away the foam wedge, he slid free of me to lay me on my back. He raised my ankles and inserted himself again. I began tugging on my swollen dick to get it off, and looked into his eyes, while my free hand ran through his chest hair. He loved taking his dick out of me, waiting for my asshole to iris shut, then plowing in again. He began to do that, and I thought the sensation would drive me mad. Just when my distended ass collapsed back, in came the fucking enormous ten incher, coke bottle-thick, to pull me wide open once more.

My eyes rolled back in my head, as I tried to assimilate the feeling of it all, and jerked my cock furiously. Greg could see I was close, so the next time he pulled out, he jacked off as well, his head rolling around on his neck, and when I saw his eyes pop open I knew his eruption was imminent. I spread my legs and raised my hips. In came the huge organ, forcibly prying me open, as he collapsed over me, his hips bucking with semi-conscious muscle spasms, and his cock and balls emptied all they had into me, launching his cream to fill me up. For what seemed to be fifteen minutes he moaned and thrust, lost in the realm of sensation.

When he was finished, and pulled out of me like a severely weakened man, we got a moist washcloth, cleaned my butt juices off his cock, still mostly hard, and I lay with my face between his legs, worshipping at the fountain of manhood that had just filled me. I sucked on it, feasting on each stray drop to bubble out of it, bringing him shudders of pleasure bordering on pain in his sensitive after-effect of cumming, and jacked off until once again my breath came hard, and I bucked and writhed in his bed as I sprayed my own juices up onto my chest, the whole time Greg's fingers stroking my hair affectionately.

Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking; doing an amateur porn video with a cop and leaving it with him the week I left for Navy boot camp, especially since we are not together. But he has written to me faithfully for quite some time, and I know it is safe in his keeping. After all, who can he show it to?

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