Arrest Record, Part 5 By Jacksantoro1@yahoo.com
The alarm didn't ring next morning. Murphy had been hard at work again. Ed was shaking me and Harold, urging us to get up. As I quickly became awake and alert, I looked at the clock and realized that there was no time for a shower and no time for breakfast. "I think we ought to wear civvies again today," Ed said as he pulled on slacks and a sport jacket. "We might have some more plainclothes shadowing to do." "Look, you two guys head for the office," I said as we hurriedly dressed. "I'll stop off and get us some donuts and coffee. That's give you time to start plowing through the transcripts of our new telephone taps on that apartment house." We ran out the door, me heading for the Honda and Ed and Harold for the Toyota. I'd remember to bring my electric shaver, and I shaved as I drove with one hand. At our favorite donut shop (Hey, cops just LOVE donuts, don't they?) I picked up a tray with six donuts and six containers of coffee, and then ran for my car. At the office I set the tray on Ed's desk and handed my electric shaver to Harold. "This is so we don't look too scruffy," I told him. "I already shaved in the car." We all ate a donut as we perused the volume of transcripts. I sipped at my coffee. Most of the transcripts were meaningless. There were guys calling their girlfriends, bosses, bookies, and women calling their kids, lovers, hairdressers, etc. In short, I encountered nothing that would help us identify the tenant we had followed home yesterday, and I began to wonder if he even lived there. After all, he might have been visiting a friend's apartment, and might even have stayed overnight. I ate my second donut and leafed through more pages with no better results. I was feeling downcast. The day had begun badly and seemed to be getting worse. "Anybody got anything yet?" I heard Ed ask. I shook my head. "All I've got is shopping lists, dates, what's for supper, when's the party, and stuff like that," Harold answered. We went back to work and scrutinized our transcripts for another hour. I was getting sleepy. "Maybe this might help," I heard Harold say. He was holding up a sheet of paper that he'd found in his stack of pages. He handed it to me and I saw that it was a telephone company list of all the numbers at that address. "This seems to be their subscriber record. I didn't know we had a direct connection with the phone company." "We regularly tap into their computer," Ed told him. "The phone company also lets us access their telephone switching computer, which is how we put taps on all those lines at once. We don't go out and splices into a subscriber's line where he lives. Anyone who does that is an amateur." "What is the value of this list?" I asked Harold. "Well, we can get the names, and the dates they signed up for phone service," he responded. I smiled. Harold was bright, very bright, and he recognized the value of information immediately. "We can look to see who had their service installed recently, say the last couple of months, and take a closer look at these people." "That's right," I said. "We can also confirm that with the power company and the city water department. We tap into their computers too." "Then this can give us a lead as to who's newly arrived, whatever name he's using." This was an allusion to the absence of any Arabic name on the subscriber list. "Very good. This helps because you can be sure that Osama himself wouldn't sign up under his real name if he were here. The only exception is if a sleeper set up the apartment as a safe house several years ago. Personally, I think that's less likely than a recent arrival, so we'll begin by checking out the recent subscribers." "One problem might be that the guy is staying with a cell-mate or co-conspirator," Ed pointed out. "Then the connection would be harder to establish. The tenant of record would probably have an ordinary-sounding American name." "Okay, Harold," I began. "There's one approach you can handle right now." I removed a sheet of paper from my file. "This is a sales pitch for a telemarketer. Call every number dated from the past 12 months and pretend you're selling something. If you hear a voice with an accent, note it. Also keep in mind that if our target is using one of the apartments as a safe house, he's probably there during the day, instead of working at a job. That's not conclusive, but we have to make the most of what we've got." Harold put the list in front of him next to the page I'd handed him and began punching buttons on his desk phone. He hesitated. "What if the guy's got Caller ID?" he asked. "Won't that tip him off that we're interested in him?" "No, this is a clean line. It doesn't show the calling number," I answered his concern. "We use it all the time for these pretext calls." Harold continued with his calls while Ed and I kept scanning our pages. A couple of minutes later he shouted: "I think I've got a hit." We looked at him. "Apartment D-4. This guy started his service three days ago under the name of `Robert Harris.' When he answered he had an accent that sounded pretty strange, a lot of guttural syllables. He might be Middle Eastern." "Okay," I said. "Let's look in the transcripts for calls from that apartment. We might get a confirmation right now." We riffled through our pages until Ed told us: "I've got him. Apartment D-4. There are a couple of innocuous conversations and a note that says that a conversation last night was in a foreign language and is awaiting translation." I picked up my phone and called the translation section. After a brief conversation I turned on my speakerphone and addressed the others: "I'm having them play the tape of that conversation for us. Let's listen." A Middle-Eastern sounding voice came over the speaker, joined by another. None of us understood enough Arabic to decipher what they were saying but we knew we'd get a translation by morning at the latest. At the end of the conversation I stood and said: "Well, it looks like we should do some on-the-spot surveillance starting now. Maybe we'll get lucky." Harold and I headed for my Honda and Ed for his Toyota. We set up our standard surveillance pattern parked down the street and across the intersections, facing in opposite directions. I said to Harold: "I like the way you stay focused on the investigation. I'm sure Ed noticed it too." "Well, I know what we're doing is important and I'm giving it my best. Sometimes, though, my mind wanders." As he spoke these last words his left hand dropped onto my crotch. "I really like those uncut cocks." "We appreciate that," I replied. "Our pricks love the attention." As I spoke, a woman approached the car on the sidewalk and Harold removed his hand before she noticed anything. I felt my prick stirring. More people walked by, hardly looking at us. "Aren't we conspicuous sitting out here in a parked car?" Harold asked. "Yes and no," I told him. "If we were staking out a drug kingpin, he'd have look-outs to spot any surveillance and we'd be made. If this were an ethnic neighborhood, people would be immediately aware of anyone or anything that didn't belong, and the word would quickly get back to the target. This is a typical middle-class area where people go on with their lives and mind their own business." Nothing happened for several hours. People entered and left the building we were watching but none was our target. 4 P.M. came and went, and Ed contacted us on the radio and said: "Fuck it, nothing's happening. Let's go home." I acknowledged that and started the engine. During the drive home Harold's hand came back to my crotch. My prick swelled under the warmth of his touch. I had a very visible bulge when I got out of the car and followed him into the house. In the bedroom Ed was already stripped down, and we joined him in his nakedness. "I can make pork chops for dinner, but it looks like you two have something else in mind first," Ed announced. My prick was fully hard, standing out from my body with Harold's fingers wrapped around it. Harold's prick was engorging, although I hadn't yet touched it. He slowly skinned me back, jiggling my foreskin to uncover more of the head with each stroke.
"I love that strong male cock smell," he said breathily. "Remember, I didn't take a shower this morning," I cautioned him. "I can see that," he said. "You've got a nice smell and that white stuff all around your helmet." I felt a sharp tickle deep inside me as a drop of lubricant began its long crawl up my urethra. Ed came up to us and nudged us closer. "Let's go head to head," he suggested. "That cheese we've got is pretty slippery." He grasped Harold's prick and swung it so that his naked glans touched mine. The spongy heads compressed where they touched, and a hot spark seemed to shoot into my helmet. Harold grasped Ed's prick and began working his foreskin in short strokes, slowly and progressively uncovering the big purple helmet. A large drop of lubricant parted the lips of Ed's long slit. "You're both leaking," Harold observed. "I like that. He pulled Ed's prick towards ours and the front dome kissed our joined tips. We stood for several minutes, rubbing our engorged helmets against each other, the mild friction enough to keep us fully aroused but not enough to drive us toward orgasm. The contact spread our lube and cheese all over Harold's dry tip until it was as wet and slick as ours. "I'd like to taste your hot cock now," he breathed as he sank to his knees in front of me. My foreskin was gathered behind the ridge, leaving the swollen glans bare for him to engulf with his lips. "Better sit down, Jack," Ed warned. "I know you. When you blast off your knees will buckle." I backed u[ toward the bed and sat on the edge, Harold following me as he milked my prick with his lips. My lubricant was flowing steadily as he worked on me, and I felt my excitement mounting. Ed was very hot too, and he caressed Harold's nose and cheek with his bulging wet glans. Harold pulled back from me just enough to plant a kiss on the front dome of Ed's helmet and say: "I love the taste of that cheese." He returned to my prick and clamped his fist around the base of my shaft. I was hard, but the pressure of his strong fingers compressed the veins and made my prick swell and harden even more. Ed reached down between my thighs and cupped my tightening scrotum to add to my excitement. I reached over to grasp his prick, working his foreskin up and down the swollen glans, the supple hood sliding very easily because of the copious lubrication. "I'd better sit down too," Ed said as he sat beside me on the edge of the bed. He knew that if I worked at it, I'd have his load before I ejaculated, and that he would fall as the climax gripped his body. Harold's lips worked around my corona as his tongue-tip drilled into my pouting meatus, lapping up my lubricant as quickly as I secreted it. He was driving me closer and closer to the brink and he knew it. Ed sensed it too, for he said: "Let's go back head to head for awhile. You know the longer it lasts the more powerful it'll be when we come." We stood at his suggestion, and held our pricks so that the bulbous heads rubbed against each other. We were in no danger of blowing our loads prematurely, and we savored the precious intimate moments. Our sacs were tight against our bodies with the excitement. "I'll bet we'll all have strong appetites after we finish," Ed told us. "Those pork chops are going to go down mighty fast." We caressed each other's slick smooth tips ardently, relishing each delicate sensation, until Harold said: "I want to finish you off, Jack. Then I'll do Ed." I sat again and Harold sank to his haunches in front of me, once more engulfing my swollen sensitive tip with his lips while clasping my shaft tightly at the base. I began moaning as my excitement mounted, and I knew he'd have my load this time. "Let me help" Ed murmured as he sat next to me and cupped my balls. He kneaded my sac very gently, adding to my sensations as I moaned louder. "I want you to blast off good," he whispered in my ear before kissing me tenderly on the lips. "You deserve it." I put an arm over his shoulder and hugged him. Our lips pressed harder against each other and then I felt his tongue push into my mouth. We kissed, open-mouthed, for several seconds before my increased breathing told him that I was nearing the peak. Ed pulled away, and we looked into each other's eyes before mine closed. I was getting the familiar tickle in the rim now, augmented by a tickle in the front dome as Harold's tongue swirled in small circles around my pouting slit. My breathing was rapid now, and I felt myself slipping away from consciousness into a state of pure sensation. Harold's lips were now swirling around the middle of my helmet as he began pumping my foreskin hard, up and over the flaring rim. My entire glans was pervaded by a hot tingle, and when a jolt of sensation shot down my shaft to the root, I dissolved into orgasm. I felt the hard contraction deep inside me as the first jet of sperm spewed into my urethra, rushing up my prick. I felt the friction of foreskin over corona again, triggering another torrent of lava-like fluid to sear its way up my tube. I was crying out helplessly and mindlessly as my body was wracked with the glorious sensations of release. My hips bucked with the fury of my orgasm as Harold sucked another jet from my throbbing glans. I knew Harold had sensed that my prick was becoming overly sensitive, because he removed his mouth and yanked back hard on my foreskin, stretching its nerve endings and putting tension on my gee-string. This made my helmet dip down keeping my orgasm going at full blast while avoiding friction on my tender nerve endings. More jets followed, but they weren't as intense as the first ones. My eyes remained closed as I enjoyed the blissful agony of the contractions deep inside me. More loads rolled out of my distended teardrop shaped slit, and I knew that Harold had positioned his tongue under it to catch every drop. The heavy chlorine odor of sperm hit my nostrils and I fell back on the bed, exhausted by the biological storm that had just wracked my body. After a couple of timeless minutes I began to recover from my daze and I opened my eyes. I saw both Harold and Ed smiling down at me. Harold kissed me tenderly on the lips and I tasted my own sperm, as he'd avidly lapped up every drop. "Less sensitive now?" he asked. I nodded affirmatively and felt his finger digging in behind my balls, milking the creamy residue forward. Then he milked my shaft and I felt the last drops parting the lips of my collapsed slit. His tongue flicked over the front dome of my glans, wiping it free of cream. "Your cock's as clean as the day you were born," he informed me. Ed's, however, was as hard as before, turgid and unfulfilled. Harold shifted his position and grasped Ed's prick around the base, clamping his veins as he'd done to mine. I could see Ed's flaring corona swell slightly under the increased pressure of blood, and more clear fluid poured from his long slit. Harold put his lips on the front dome and began pumping them up and down. Ed's glans is a helmet, like mine, but slightly longer and slightly more slender. Harold's lips traveled all the way down to the rim, and locked behind it, before he withdrew and stroked it right to the blunt end. He was holding Ed's foreskin sharply back to expose the rim and the deep groove behind it. He used straight strokes because Ed, unlike me, preferred long straight strokes to the rotative friction that always sent me into orbit. Ed lay flat on the bed as Harold worked on his prick, and I joined the action by cupping his tight scrotum tenderly. Harold's lip-strokes became faster, and Ed began breathing heavily, caught up in the rapture of sensations. I knew that he wouldn't last as long as I had because he'd been hard longer and the anticipation had built up his excitement. Harold's prick was also hard, wet with slime, and I grasped it with my other hand and gently stroked it from base to tip and back again. My fingers bumped over his rim, and I felt the hardness of his flare. Ed's breathing had become louder now, and he gasped for each breath. He felt the orgasm approaching, and I saw his stomach muscles ripple as he tightened up involuntarily. His legs began to tremble and Harold increased his pace, combining his lip-strokes with a rapid pumping of the foreskin over the hard, flaring corona. The helmet was now dark purple, ripe for the sensations that would push him over the edge. I felt a pulse where my fingertips touched his urethra behind his sac. His fists clenched as he bellowed loudly, and I knew that he was feeling the first hot spasm deep inside him. His hips bucked as he thrust his throbbing glans deeper into Harold's mouth, and I saw Harold's Adam's apple working to swallow the discharge. Ed yelped again as the next spasm shook his body, and Harold swallowed frantically again. Having just experienced my climax I knew that Ed must be feeling the delicious hot tingle in his helmet. Ed yelped again as the third contraction gripped him, and after swallowing the hot stream, Harold removed his mouth, leaving Ed's throbbing purple helmet gloriously exposed. Harold yanked back hard on the foreskin as he'd done to me, and I saw another stream of white sperm erupt from the glistening purple glans. Harold gave the skin another tug, pulling the front of Ed's helmet down and triggering another pulse of cream that rolled out of the long slit. The sight was so awe-inspiring that I felt my prick start to swell again, although Harold had drained me thoroughly only a few minutes before. I felt Ed's urethra pulse several more times as he drained himself, and finally he was still. Harold and I waited for him to rouse himself from the daze into which he had sunk, and I kept pumping Harold's wet, slippery prick as we sat. Harold and I looked into each other's eyes and then he moved closer to kiss me again. This time I tasted Ed's prick secretions on his lips. "That was wonderful," Ed told us when he came back to full consciousness. "Now we've got to take care of Harold." He saw that I was still stroking Harold's prick and he added several drops of Astroglide to ease the friction. "What would you like?" I asked Harold. "Just what you're doing, Jack. That feels wonderful." Ed reached into the drawer beside the bed and withdrew a small cylindrical vibrator. Turning it on by twisting the cap, he touched the rounded end to the triangular groove under Harold's helmet. Harold sighed in delight. "Good thing the doctor didn't cut off your gee-string when he circumcised you," he told Harold. "You've still got that hot spot, and the vibrator's going to do you a lot of good." He leaned forward and kissed Harold. I bent over and touched my tongue to Harold's slit, which was now seeping clear fluid. I tasted his lubricant, as well as the residue of lube and cheese from my prick and Ed's. I knew that within a minute or two Harold's pulsing glans would be spewing torrents of salty and chlorine-scented cream into my mouth, and I wanted to catch every drop. I kept my fingers around his shaft, working them in rotating strokes over his flaring corona but no farther, as I was leaving room for Ed to apply the vibrator to Harold's hot spot. Harold now lay back on the bed, preparing himself for what was to come. As he spread his legs I slipped my other hand between his thighs to cup his balls. "We're working on you three ways," I murmured into his ear. "We're going to make sure we drain you dry." I kissed his lips after saying this, while maintaining the erotic friction on his prick. Raising my head I saw that the color of his glans had darkened, and his corona felt harder under my stroking fingers. Harold's jaw was clenched, and his body was tensing with excitement. "Try to stay relaxed," Ed coached him. "You'll come soon enough. We'll make sure of that." He continued to roll the end of the vibrator along Harold's gee-string, sending message of joy into the many nerve endings. Harold was staring at the ceiling, and now his stomach muscles tightened. "Stay relaxed and let us bring you over the top," Ed advised him. We knew that the more Harold remained relaxed, the more the sensation of orgasm would feel like a slowly breaking wave when it hit him. The glistening purple helmet was fully swollen, eagerly absorbing the sensations pouring into it, and I knew that it would begin throbbing hard any second. Harold took a deep breath and sobbed loudly as I felt the first pulse behind his balls. An instant later, his prick throbbed hard in my hand and shot a thick jet of cream into the air. I barely put my lips on the front dome in time, but I caught it all and swallowed. The salty taste and the heavy odor of chlorine filled my mouth and nasal passages. His prick pulsed again and I heard him grunt loudly as he shot another torrent into my mouth. My lips felt the vibrations that Ed was applying to his gee-string and then his helmet throbbed again. I swallowed his third load and kept stroking his corona with my fingers, bringing forth more discharges that exploded in my mouth until they relented to slow gushes. We were definitely draining Harold, and his body strained with the effort until the fury was spent and he began to relax. Ed removed the vibrator but I kept my lips over the front dome of his helmet as it softened, wanting to catch every drop. Harold lay dazed by the after-shock of orgasm, and didn't speak for a couple of minutes. I leaned over him, kissing his lips tenderly. I felt his arm go around me and he pulled me down to him. His other arm brought Ed down. We clung together, permeated by a sense of profound satisfaction. "That was really nice," Harold said. "Doing this with you guys really made my day." Ed and I took turns kissing him, filled with a feeling of profound tenderness toward our fellow worker and sex partner. Finally, Ed announced: "Guys, we have to eat. I bet you're both as hungry as I am." We nodded and Ed went out to the kitchen to prepare dinner while Harold and I jumped into the shower. My prick was limp, with the foreskin extending an inch beyond the head, and Harold pulled it back because he knew that our bladders were full. The hot water sluicing over my glans made my sphincter relax and I felt and saw the thick yellow stream arcing down from the end of my helmet. I saw that the hot water was having the same effect on him, and we stood together until we were drained. "I still like the way you can pinch your skin when you pee and make it swell," he told me. "I wish I could do that." "You can do that with mine any time you wish," I replied. We dried each other and went out to join Ed. He had set the table outside and was grilling the pork chops on the barbecue. I made a salad and warmed the bread while Harold took three bottles of beer to the table outside. Our timing had been perfect, as the pork chops were ready now. Ed went inside to pee while I took the chops off the grill and served them on plates. He returned and we began to eat. Our foreskins had been loose and gaping, but as the air grew colder they began to tighten. The puckers shrank and now we had the usual nipples hanging off the ends of our pricks. "We'll have a busy day tomorrow," Ed told us between mouthfuls. "It would be nice to pin down this `Robert Harris' and find out where he really came from. I doubt we'll ever find out his real name." "What do we do when we find out?" Harold asked him.
"That depends on who he is and what he's planning. Maybe when we read the translation of yesterday's conversation we'll know more." "It's nice to be able to tap into people's phones the way we do," Harold mused. "It really gives us a leg up in an investigation." "Yeah, but the civil libertarians are all bent out of shape over it," Ed pointed out. "I'm sure they'd feel differently if some terrorist bombed their building or crashed an airliner into it," I said. "I'm sure they would," Ed confirmed. "Must be nice, living in an ivory tower and pretending that it's a perfect world." We finished our meal and I said to Ed: "You ought to go and take a shower now. Harold and I can clear the table and do the dishes." Ed saw the logic in that and left us to our task. After we'd finished we joined him in bed. "Okay, good night, folks," he said. "We'd better get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow might be pretty heavy." We kissed goodnight and went to sleep in each other's arms.
Continued in Part 6