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Message-ID: <49423asstr$1097579402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: jarilid@freemail.nl (Jari)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 12 Oct 2004 07:46:32 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Story: The police officer (M/m, m/m, teen, gay)
Lines: 394
Date: Tue, 12 Oct 2004 07:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The police officer (M/m, m/m, teen, gay)

By Jari 

_____________________________________________________________ 

WARNING: Standard Disclaimer. The following story is purely a work of
fiction. It contains scenes of adult nature, so if you are under 18,
stop reading now. This story contains sexual behavior. It hints at
sexual behavior with children. If you are offended by such activities,
do not read any further. This is purely a fantasy. Any resemblance to
any person, living or dead is purely coincidental. The author is not
responsible for any damage resulting from reading this work. Copyright
2004, the author. All rights reserved. Any reproduction of this work
outside the confines of the usenet news group, alt.sex.stories,
without the explicit permission of the author is prohibited

Reactions welcome at jarilidSPAM@planet.nl (remove SPAM) 
______________________________________________________________ 



Police officer James Wright reached out for the doorbell and rang.
Behind the front door he could hear the sound of the bell ringing thru
the small house. While he waited for someone to answer it, the tall
policeman rehearsed his opening sentences. His chief had been a bit
vague about this commission. He had to gather information in the
neighborhood to find out if someone had seen anything strange or
suspicious since last Wednesday. That day a little twelve-year-old
girl had been raped and killed in the little park a few blocks away.
But because James didn't know much about the case itself he wasn't
quite sure what he had to ask or look for. He didn't even know whether
it was made public that the girl had been raped before she was killed,
so he decided to just mention her being killed.

The thirty-year-old policeman stroke his small but carefully trimmed
moustache and sighed. He hated these kind of inquiries. It took hours
to visit all the houses involved and often no one was at home and of
course no one had ever seen anything strange or suspicious at all.
This apart from the usual lunatics and old gossips who had seen things
that never took place. And you always had to wear your uniform with
your cap on, even on a hot day like today. He looked up along the
front of the simple labor-class house. A window stood ajar at the
first floor so he suspected someone to be in. He rang a second time.
The same loud noise sounded thru the seemingly deserted house. James
turned his back to the door and let the sunshine dwell upon his face.
He softly whistled a tune between his teeth. At least the weather was
fine. He hated this work even more when rain was pouring down and you
had to make these investigations standing in a pool of water. People
certainly didn't invite you in when you looked like a drowned dog.

James waited a few seconds more and then he took out his notebook and
a pencil and entered a note that this place had to be visited again
later. He was just putting his book and pencil away when he heard a
sound behind him and the door was opened. Surprised he turned around
and looked into the face of a sixteen or seventeen year old boy. The
boy had obviously been sleeping ('a bit late to be still asleep around
twelve' James thought), because his blond hair was in a mess and his
sleepy eyes were blinking against the sun. The boy was dressed in a
simple white t-shirt, some loose grey boxer shorts and white sport
socks. James couldn't help throwing a quick glance at the boy's bare
legs, which were well built and lightly tanned. With some effort the
police officer forced his eyes away from them and looked the boy in
the face again. Having adapted his eyes to the sun by now, the boy
looked back at him with his eyes wide open. They were of the deepest
blue color James had ever seen before in any human being.

"What do you want?" the boy suddenly said, sounding not very polite.
His voice was surprisingly high.

James Wright cleared his throat and said "Hi, son. I'm police officer
James Wright (he showed his ID to the boy) and we are doing some
investigations in this neighborhood in connection with the death of
Sheila Vane. I suppose you've heard about her?"

The boy nodded vaguely.

 "Then you know that the little girl was killed last Wednesday in
Kennedy Park, not far away from here. I was wondering if you could
tell me if you saw or heard something that could help us solving the
case."

The boy looked back at him with a blank face. "I don't know. I don't
think so," he answered hesitatingly.

James Wright thought he heard a strange sound in the boy's voice. If
he was not mistaken (and he seldom was in these cases) the boy sounded
scared. If it was because he was just in awe of James' impressive
uniform or because he tried to hide something, he couldn't tell yet.

"Can I come in, son? I would like to ask you some more questions." 
Normally James didn't enter a house during this kind of
investigations. That would be far too time-consuming. And certainly
not when the inhabitant stated right away he or she couldn't tell
anything about the case. Why did he want to speak then inside to the
boy? James wasn't sure about his own motives. Was it because he
mistrusted the boy's statement or was it because he wanted to spend
some time in the company of the attractive boy? And the more James
looked at the boy the more attractive he appeared to him.

"So?" he urged the hesitating boy.

"I don't know," the boy said, "I am alone you know, no one else is
in."

He moved his right hand towards his crotch and scratched it
absent-mindedly.

James throat suddenly went dry. He had to scrape it before he could
say, "Hmm.. I just want to put some questions to you son, you have
nothing to be afraid of."

The boy looked over his shoulder, back into the dark gangway as if he
wanted to check with somebody that wasn't there. Then he stepped aside
and said "All right then. I assume it doesn't take long?"

Smiling to himself James Wright stepped over the threshold into the
darkness of the small corridor. He took off his cap and hung it on the
hat stand.

"No, just a few questions, son. By the way, what's your name?" 

"Oh yeah, of course. My name is Tim. Tim Bird," the boy added. 

He closed the front door after the police officer and showed him into
a small living room. Tim waved at a worn sofa, situated close to the
window. James sat himself down on it. He saw that Tim kept on standing
so he patted on the sofa. "Sit down, son. That talks a bit more
easily."

The boy hesitated a second, then shrugged and let himself fall down on
the other side of the sofa. James looked admiringly at the boy's
muscular thighs which had become partly visible because his boxers had
somewhat ridden up. For a while the boy sat next to him in silence,
his upper body bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He
slowly moved his legs around a bit as if he was impatient. His legs
were still almost completely hairless, beautiful of proportion and
well defined. James noticed that he could also see a stroke of the
boy's bare back now, between the hem of his t-shirt and the waist of
his boxer shorts. He felt how his breath quickened, and he hoped the
boy wouldn't notice the growing bulge in his tight police pants.

"What do you want to ask me?" the boy asked, obviously growing
impatient.

"Well, let's see," James answered. He coughed. "Do you have something
to drink for me, Tim? My throat is rather dry."

Tim twisted his face but stood up and walked to the adjacent kitchen.
James watched admiringly the working of the muscles in Tim's bare legs
when he walked away from him, moving his young male butt in a sensuous
way. The police officer used the occasion to grab his growing erection
and put it in a more comfortable position. He heard the door of the
fridge being opened.

"We only have beer, I'm afraid," Tim called at him, "but I suppose you
are not allowed to drink alcohol while on duty?"

"Oh, I don't care so much about those silly rules," James shouted back
at the boy, "just give me one. And have one yourself."

Tim came back grinning, holding two cans of Heineken in his hand. He
handed one to the police officer and expertly opened his own.

"You've done that before," James remarked approvingly. "Do you parents
allow that? How old are you, by the way?"

"Seventeen," Tim answered annoyed. He gulped his beer down and placed
the empty can on the ground next to him. Then he leaned back into the
cushions and folded his arms before his chest. He stretched out his
long legs and let them rest on the surface of the low table in front
of the sofa.

James felt his erection grow at full mast, eying the muscular, sturdy
legs of the boy stretched out before him in full glory. Tim looked
darkly in front of himself.

"Let's make a start then," James began, finishing his own beer. The
boy sank his body a bit lower on the sofa. His t-shirt hiked up so
James could see a stroke of Tim's bare abdomen. He saw the vague
beginnings of a six-pack and a beautiful, deep belly button. A small
trail of dark blond hair ran down from it along the boy's flat belly
until it disappeared under the waistband of his boxers. `My god,'
James thought, `how long will I be able to restrain myself?'

"Let's start with what you did last Wednesday, when the murder took
place," he said aloud. "Where were you that day?"

The boy shrugged. "Don't know. Lots of places." 

"You aren't helping me much, son. Can you try to be a bit more
specific?"

Tim thought for a while. "I think I was with Dude for a while." 

"Dude?" James asked. 

"Yeah. My friend Donovan. But everybody calls him `Dude', because he
says `dude' every minute or so, you know."

"Ok. And what were you two boys doing?" 

Tim shrugged again. "Don't know. All kinds of stuff." 

He yawned and stretched his arms out very high above his head, giving
James a breathtaking view of his bare belly almost up to his chest.
Then the boy collapsed again and let his arms drop next to his body.
His boxers had been shoved down a bit so the beginning of his pubic
hairs were showing. James couldn't help but look at it. Suddenly the
boy turned to the police officer sitting next to him and caught him
staring at his young body. James reddened and quickly averted his
eyes.

"And you are sure Dude and you didn't see anything unusual? Were you
anywhere near Kennedy Park that day?" he quickly asked.

Tim shook his head. "No, we haven't been there at all. And I told you
at the door already: I haven't seen anything special."

James got hold of his notebook and began to turn some pages. He didn't
know what more to ask but he also didn't want to leave. In this short
time he had developed a big crush for the boy who was sitting so
innocently next to him. So he mumbled something unintelligible,
pretending to check his notes, from time to time throwing quick
glances out of the corner of his eyes at the boy's slim, but sturdy
legs.

"Do you fancy me?" Tim suddenly asked him. James looked up from his
book, grew all red again and didn't know what to answer. "You know, if
you do.. you can blow me.. if you want," the boy continued boldly.

James got very hot and very cold at the same time. He still didn't
know what to say. He licked his lips. His mouth felt as dry as if he
had eaten a mouthful of flour. His uniform suddenly felt very tight
too, especially around the neck. So he loosened the top-button of his
uniform and muttered "well.. I.. you.. You don't mind?" he finally
said.

Tim gave him his sweetest smile. "No, you can blow me if you want to.
I don't mind. Just give me some money afterwards."

James was overwhelmed by the thought that he could actually touch the
boy he fancied so much.

"One condition," the teenager quickly added when James began to get up
from his seat.

"What's that?" James asked. 

"You must wear your cap when you blow me," the boy added. 

James frowned. He started to ask `why?', but then he thought `oh, what
the heck. Give the boy what he wants'. So he answered "Ok".

Tim quickly stood up, left the room and came back with the policeman's
cap on his own head. James smiled. It looked stunning on the teenager.
Tim fell backwards on the sofa again. James stood up hastily and
kneeled down between the legs of the teenager. He felt how his cap was
placed on his head.

Trembling from emotion the police officer placed his hands on the bare
thighs of the seventeen-year-old boy. He felt the hardness of the
young muscles in his hands. He began to glide down with his hands
along the legs of the boy until he held both his calves in his hands.
Their suppleness aroused him. He kneaded them for a few moments and
then he let his hands glide upwards again, along the knees until he
was back on the boy's thighs. He looked upwards and saw how the boy
was leaning back in the sofa, his eyes closed and his lips slightly
apart. He was letting it all happen to him.

James looked back down again and noticed how a bulge had formed in the
boy's boxer shorts. He swallowed and let his right hand move slowly
upwards until it lay on top of the boy's manhood. He felt the hot,
rigid, pulsing pole of the boy in his hand and began to squeeze it
rhythmically. The boy moaned softly. When James had been kneading the
boy's penis for some time he couldn't withhold himself any longer. He
placed both hands at the waistband of Tim's shorts and he started to
pull them down. Slowly more and more of the boy's private regions
became exposed to his greedy eyes as the shorts went down. James saw
how the trail of blond hair suddenly ended in a small bush of blond
pubic hairs. Then he arrived at the intriguing bulge. He had to lift
the waistband up a bit to move it over the boy's erected penis. When
the stiff pole got freed of the restraining shorts, it popped op along
Tim's belly. There it stood up proudly, softly pulsating, strangely
dark in contrast to the paleness of the skin of his belly.

James quickly pushed the boxer shorts down till below Tim's knees.
Then he moved his face in the direction of the throbbing pole in front
of him. He let his lips hover just above its head and then he gave it
a quick lick with his tongue. Tim let out a low moan and pushed his
groin upwards to meet James' mouth. James took the tip of the stiff
pole between his lips and began to make soft sucking movements. His
tongue moved in circles around the sensitive head. Then he let the tip
of his tongue search for the boy's piss hole. He explored the small
hole and pushed the tip of his tongue in as far as it would go and
began to wriggle inside. His hands lay on the thighs of the boy and he
felt how his muscles tightened. He knew to which divine feelings the
boy was exposed at this moment and with one hand he started to loosen
his own belt and opened up the fly of his pants. When he had managed
to get his own mighty erection out of his uniform he began to beat it
with long, rapid strokes.

After some minutes he changed to another technique on Tim's penis. He
stuffed the whole pole of the boy in his mouth and began to move his
lips and tongue along it. The moans of the boy changed into groans,
interchanged with low sounding grunts. James knew the signs all too
well: the boy was on the verge of cumming. He raised the tempo of
pumping his own pole in order to come at the same time as Tim. When he
felt how the head of the enormous erection in his mouth swelled up
even more, he sensed his own orgasm starting too. The boy let out an
almost animal sounding grunt, his whole body tensed up and James felt
how his mouth got filled with spurts of hot globs of cum. At the same
time James got overwhelmed by his own climax and his penis spew its
fluids in big rays on the sofa and the carpet.

The boy and the police officer (his cap still on his head) lay
exhausted on the sofa for a while. After a minute or so James began to
clean the shriveling manhood of the boy with his tongue, licking up
the boy's spent semen. When he looked up Tim was still relaxing with
closed eyes on the sofa. James stood up and Tim now opened his eyes.

"That was nice, thank you," Tim said and pulled his boxer shorts back
up. He sat for a moment with bowed head on the sofa, then he shook his
head as to wake himself up and stood up. James had put his own tool
away in the mean time. He searched for his wallet, took out a
10-dollar note and handed it to the boy. Tim took the money in silence
and stuffed it away in the back of his shorts.

"I'll see you out then" Tim said and walked to the door. James didn't
know what to say (although he would have liked to spent some more time
with Tim) and followed him. When they were at the front door James
hesitated. He would like to show the boy some affection, to give him a
kiss on the mouth perhaps. But Tim didn't wait for that, he opened the
door and stretched out his hand. The police officer looked at it, then
took the boy's hand and shook it slowly.

"Bye," was the only thing he said. Then he turned and stepped out into
the full sunlight.

"See you," he heard Tim say before the door was closed. James took his
cap off and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Then he put his cap
back on again and began to walk to the neighboring house to continue
his investigations.

On the first floor Tim watched the police officer walking to the next
house. He turned and looked at the bed at the far end of the room
where the naked body of his friend Dude woke up. Tim slid in the bed
and pressed his lithe body against the back of his friend.

"Hey dude, who was that at the door just now?" the sleepy voice of
Dude asked.

"A police officer," Tim answered. He reached over and took the limp
penis of his friend in his hand.

"Oh. Jeez. What did he want?" 

"He came to ask if we had seen something strange since Wednesday." Tim
answered. He began to squeeze Dude's meat rhythmically.
"You know," he continued, "the day Sheila was killed." 

"I know, I know," Dude groaned, "Let's not talk about it again." His
penis didn't response to Tim's manipulations. "You know I'm sorry
about how things went, dude. I wish I could make her back alive
again."

Tim sighed. "I still cannot understand what came over you, Dude. I
mean, when it had been a boy, take Tommy Leech for example, I could
have understood. But a little girl? What the fuck was happening to
you?"

Dude shook his head. "I.. I don't know, dude. Oh.. please.. go on..
that feels good, man!"

Tim felt how Dude's penis finally began to grow in his hand. He
thought it came because he had mentioned the name of Tommy Leech, a
very attractive young boy from around the block he knew Dude had a
crush for. Relieved, Tim moved over to the other side of his friend,
bent over and took the stiffening pole of Dude in his mouth. He began
to suck it, moving his mouth with long strokes along the fat shaft.

Dude moaned. He reached with his hand under his cushion and took out a
white sock. It was clearly a little girl's sock and it had a bit of
dirt on it. Dude stuffed the sock in his mouth. In his thoughts he saw
Sheila playing in the park that day. `You should have seen her that
day, Tim, in her short skirt,' he thought, `you would have wanted to
touch her too. She really looked like a boy that day.. A little boy in
a skirt. Her white thighs were so beautiful.. those white socks..' He
felt his climax coming up rapidly and with a groan he sprayed his
juices into his friend's mouth.


The End
=======

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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