Arrest Record, Part 7 By Jacksantoro1@yahoo.com
We awoke refreshed, especially Harold, who said he'd slept like a corpse after the previous evening's massive electro-orgasm. Ed and I were full of energy, and we prepared a ham and eggs breakfast while Harold took a shower. Life was good and we enjoyed it to the utmost.
At the office we checked our in-trays and found more transcripts. Most were from the apartment building where we'd arrested Harris, and Ed made a phone call to have the telephone taps stopped, as they were no longer useful. However, there were several conversations from Abdul al-Mani's telephone, and we scrutinized these carefully.
What we gleaned was that a replacement for John Taylor was on his way and would arrive within a few days.
"We'll really have to be on our toes," I pointed out to Harold. "Right now we don't know where or when. The guy might arrive at any time, by bus, train, plane, or car. We don't know what he'll be bringing with him or if he'll be bringing someone with him. My guess is that he'll stay at Abdul's, since this seems to be a safe house, but it's only my guess. We can't be sure of anything."
"It looks like a 24-hour watch on Abdul might be productive," Harold said. "Do we have the manpower for that?"
"We'd be stretched thin if we tried that," Ed informed him. "Oh, we have other guys in Special Ops but they're busy with their own cases. Trailing a guy like Abdul requires at least three men, and at the bare minimum two. There's too much of a chance of blowing the tail even with three guys, and having just one guy tailing him almost guarantees failure, whatever you might see on TV. The telephone tap gives us a slight edge, though. Maybe the tap can tell us when the rendezvous will take place."
"Abdul doesn't drive, so we can't put a GPS on his car, as we did with Taylor," I added. "Phil can't spare anyone to help us, so we're pretty much on our own."
"It seems to me that we're not like regular cops," Harold ventured. "People expect us to prevent terrorist acts."
"Hell, you've got that right," snorted Ed. "Cops are reactive. They come on the scene and take a report after the crime goes down. Even at Oklahoma City and the World Trade Center, the FBI and the ATF started their investigations after the damage was done. We're supposed to be pro-active, and catch the guy before he does the deed."
"Yeah, big difference," agreed Harold. We sat silently for a few minutes, lost in thought. Finally Ed spoke up:
"Maybe this will work. We'll split up. We can't watch Abdul 24/7, so one of us will stay in the office at all times. He'll be on hand to pick up any telephone tap transcripts. Better yet, we'll tell the technicians to patch any call in to a dedicated line right here. If there's any information on when the meeting will take place, the guy here can call the others at home and then we'll all be able to be there when it comes down."
"That can work," I said. "We'll have an unmarked car here and one at home. We'll be in plainclothes all the time. Even if we're sleeping we can get dressed in five minutes and be on our way."
"Good," Ed said. "I'll take the first shift. "One of you beck back here at four to relieve me, and the other will come in at midnight. That will give us each eight hours on and 16 hours off." Harold and I got up and went out to the car.
"I think we'd better pick up a pizza," I said. I don't know when we'll be able to eat again. I'll go back in to relieve Ed at four, and you relieve me at midnight."
Harold and I undressed and went out to the back patio to split the pizza. We made lots of eye contact as we ate, sending unspoken messages of devotion. We didn't drink any beer, as we had to be ready at any moment if Ed called. After we'd finished, Harold pulled his chair next to mine and grasped the nipple of my foreskin between thumb and forefinger.
"I wish I had one of these," he said. "I guess you're tired of hearing that."
"I never get tired of you saying anything," I said, reaching down to squeeze his big tip. Blood rushed to our pricks, rapidly filling them until we were hard. We were both excited, yet fully aware that anything we began might be interrupted.
"What would you like to do?" he asked.
"Anything you like, as long as we're prepared to drop everything if Ed calls."
"I enjoyed that Princeton we did the other evening," he said.
"That's good. This time want to be the passive partner? I'll slip my prick between your thighs."
"Sure," he said as we got up to go into the bedroom. I took two condoms from the bedside drawer.
"One is for me, and one's for you," I explained. "That way, you won't be shooting all over the sheet. Also, having a condom on your prick will be almost like having a foreskin. I'll stroke you as if you were uncut."
"I did that a few times," Harold said. "I jacked off with a condom to get the feel of what it would be like if I had skin. It was pretty nice." We dripped some Astroglide into each condom and put them on our pricks. I retracted my foreskin until it locked behind the ridge, but Harold just had to unroll his sheath. Harold lay on his left side and I got into position behind him, sliding my prick in when he lifted his thigh. I began thrusting slowly, thinking of the possibility of being interrupted.
Now I put my right arm over his body and grasped his prick, sliding the condom along its length as if it were a foreskin. I felt its warmth through the thin latex as my fingers explored its contours. Harold began to respond, his breathing deepening.
"Let's go nice and slow," I urged. "We've got all day." I felt the friction of his perineum and inner thighs clasping my prick with each thrust, and my excitement began to mount along with his. Deep inside me, a drop of lubricant crept up my tube. I continued my slow stroking of his warm prick.
"This feels so romantic," Harold said. "Do you think that's silly?"
"No, not at all," I replied. "I feel the same way." I maintained a steady pace, working my prick in and out inside the condom, my helmet nudging his balls on the forward stroke. I kept the same rhythm on Harold's penis, sliding the condom along its length as if it were a foreskin.
"I just felt a drop of lube inside," he said. "Now it's crawling up my cock." I kissed him on the ear and continued caressing his prick through the thin latex.
"You've got a beautiful prick," I murmured in his ear. "I really enjoyed watching it last night when you were getting off with the electro. Your shaft is straight and the helmet is big. You've got the same sexy curves as Ed and I have, and your rim flares too. Now that I'm stroking you I can feel it through the condom." Harold shuddered against me.
"I feel it every time your tip touches my balls," he said. "I can feel you sliding back and forth down there. I know that when you explode I'll feel every throb between my thighs."
"When you explode my fingers will be around your prick and I'll feel every throb too," I said. "We can time it so we come together."
"I'd love that, Jack, knowing you're blowing your load at the same time I'm coming." I felt him tighten his thigh muscles, giving my prick an unanticipated squeeze. I gave his condom-covered prick a quick twist in acknowledgement.
"I'll tell you when I'm getting close," I said. "I'll also stroke you faster so you can come when I do."
"I think all you'll need to do is give me a couple of twists like you did just now. You'll have me blowing my load along with you," he said.
"Also, if you feel yourself start to come, tighten up against my prick. That extra friction will get me started fast."
"I'll do that, Jack. Meanwhile, I'm not close, so we can enjoy the action for a while longer." It was warm in the room, and our bodies started to sweat. I licked a salty drop off the back of his neck.
Now as I continued to thrust I felt Harold's body reciprocating. Each time I thrust he back into me. We were synchronized in our movements, and this heightened the feeling of togetherness. Now we were breathing more rapidly, and I knew we were getting close.
"I can feel your helmet swelling and getting harder," I told him. "The rim's flaring more now. You're getting close."
"I am, Jack, I am. Just keep going. I think we'll shoot together."
"I'm getting that tickle in the head," I said. "How about you?"
"Not yet." At his words I gave his prick a couple pf twists.
"That's doing it, Jack. My cock feels so stiff." My encircling fingers rode over his hardness, exploring the ridge, groove, and the pronounced curves of his beautiful helmet. The tickle in my tip intensified, and I tightened my grip on Harold's prick as my eyes closed.
"Jack, Jack, I..." His voice broke off as I felt his body shudder against mine. His thighs tightened hard on my prick and I felt the hot tingle that shot through my helmet and down my shaft, triggering my climax. Harold yelped as his prick throbbed, and I was only an instant behind him. My shaft and helmet throbbed hard as the burning fluid shot through them to empty into the nipple of the condom.
Harold and I moaned mindlessly as the second wave hit us, and our bodies struggled together in the frenzy of orgasm. I felt the warmth of my sperm swirling around my helmet, trapped by the thin latex sheath. Harold's condom was filling up as well and I tightened my grip to give him the friction he needed to drive his orgasm. We were both in free-fall, sharing the most intimate experience men can have together.
Another hot torrent gushed up my prick, discharging into the condom. Now my tip was becoming super-sensitive, but my helmet was swimming in the thick fluid, insulated from excessive friction, keeping me comfortable as another spasm shook me. I felt each throb in Harold's beautiful prick as he continued to pour his sperm into the condom. He kept thrusting his hips as he drove his straining prick deeper into my fist.
Our orgasms ended, leaving us drained and dazed as usual. I clung to him, feeling the sweaty warmth of his body as our breathing returned to normal. I felt his prick soften and shrink between my fingers as his excitement faded. Now I removed my hand from his prick and grasped the ring of latex at the base of my shaft, holding it so that my prick wouldn't slip out of it as I withdrew. Harold turned to face me and we embraced. I kissed him tenderly on the lips.
"See?" I asked him. "We didn't spill a drop."
"That felt really good, your stroking me with the condom. It felt just like I had skin on my cock, or at least what I imagine I would feel like."
"You might try wearing a condom 24 hours a day," I suggested. "Our foreskins keep the head protected and moist, and that keeps them sensitive. Maybe if you kept your tip covered and wet with a little water or Astroglide, it would become more sensitive."
"I guess I could cut off the condom's nipple to let me pee," he said. "That way I wouldn't have to remove it every time I have to go."
"That's the idea," I said encouragingly. "I don't know how long it will take until your tip feels more sensitive, but it's worth trying. I knew someone else who did that and he said it helped him."
"I guess we'll have to play it by ear," he said. He sounded sleepy and I felt that way too. We fell asleep in each other's arms, knowing that we'd have to get our sleep whenever we could during the next few days.
We awoke a couple of hours later and agreed we could use a shower. We discarded the condoms and stepped under the warm water. Our bladders were full and the water stimulated our sphincters. We soaped each other and then rinsed ourselves under the spray. After we dried each other Harold took a fresh condom, cut off the nipple and slipped it onto his prick after lubricating the glans thoroughly. By the time we'd gotten dressed it was time for me to leave to take the next shift at the office. I kissed Harold goodbye and drove off.
When I arrived the office was almost empty. I had waved to Kyle and Justin in the parking lot and now I sat next to Ed at his desk, waiting to hear if there was any news. He looked at me before speaking:
"How'd your day with Harold go?" he asked. I started to tell him about our experience, but broke off and asked:
"Hey! Are you jealous?" He smiled and said:
"Hell, no! I'm not jealous. I hope you had a good time. I'll be seeing him soon, you know."
"We did Princeton and Harold really got off when I stroked his prick with a condom on it. He said it felt just like a foreskin."
"So you were in back, huh?" Ed concluded. I nodded and went on:
"I told him that if he wore a condom on his prick all the time the head would become more sensitive. Remember that cut guy we knew a few years back? Todd? He did that and said it made his glans more sensitive."
"Well, nothing much has happened here," Ed told me, changing the subject. "See this white phone on my desk. That came today after you left. It's a direct line to the tap on Abdul's phone. Any other news will come via e-mail here. Now I'd better get home. I'll see you when you get home." He left and I was faced with a long boring evening, or so I thought.
At midnight Harold walked in, looking very refreshed. I asked him how the evening had gone and he told me that he and Ed had given each other hand jobs. Ed had been very interested in the artificial foreskin he'd fashioned from a condom, and had pumped Harold's prick with such enthusiasm that he'd exploded within two minutes.
"I'm glad you had a good time," I said. "Now let me fill you in on what's happened here. First, we didn't get any information to act on. That's why you didn't hear from me. However, we got an e-mail from the 911 Task Force. They went to work on Harris and he told them that his target was Dulles International Airport, not a mall. There are lots of people going through Dulles and they take flights all over the country and to Europe. That would have spread the biological agent quickly."
"Did he tell them what exactly was in the spray can?" Harold asked.
"No. He said he didn't know. The stuff's at a lab right now, but probably we won't know for a few days or weeks. Anyway, Abdul was supposed to be his back-up, in case he couldn't complete the mission. They're both martyr wannabees."
"Think they'll get any more out of Harris?" Harold persisted.
"Only time will tell. These 911 guys are professionals. They won't be handing us garbage just to show they made him talk. They're not like the guys down at Guantanamo. That terrorist who supposedly confessed admitted being the mastermind behind everything except the Kennedy Assassination."
"Why did they wring a false confession out of him?" Harold asked. "Isn't that counter-productive?"
"The guys at Guantanamo are lawyers. They're trying to build a case for trial. Prosecutors pile on all the charges they can think of so that when they play Let's Make a Deal' they can say We'll drop this charge if you plead guilty to that.' The 911 people aren't interested in this game because their captives never go to trial, so they don't dig up any bullshit."
"So the information we get from the 911 Task Force is more accurate," Harold concluded. "Yes, more likely to be accurate. Those guys know lives depend on their providing good intelligence, not crap." I got up. "I'll head for home now. Ed will be here at eight." Nobody else was in the room, so I hugged Harold and gave him a kiss. Ed was asleep when I crawled into bed beside him at 12:45 A.M. We awoke around six and he greeted me with an account of the evening's activity: "Harold is really a hot kid. He was all fired up when I got here, and we went at it right away. He played with my skin while I stroked him with the rubber. That really turned him on, and he blew a heavy load. Then just before I came a he started giving me oral because he loves the taste of natural dick. That made me unload a lot." "He seems to be ready for sex every few hours," I said. "First with me, and then with you." "Why not?" Ed replied. "He's ten years younger than we are." "Anyway," I added. "He's really turned on by our foreskins. Good thing we're uncut." As Ed was due in the office to relieve Harold at eight, I made him toast and coffee while he showered and shaved. I was still naked when Harold came in at nine. "Nothing much happened after midnight," he told me. "Just a few transcripts that didn't say much, anyway." As he spoke he stripped down and I saw he was still wearing a condom over his penis. His big helmet made the condom bulge at the end, very much like my foreskin. I noted that his prick was half-hard. "Looks like you're a bit excited," I told him. "I really am, Jack. That condom on my cock makes a difference. When I move my cock slides around inside it, and it really feels nice." "It keeps you stimulated," I said. I reached out and grasped his prick at the end, feeling the helmet sliding inside the latex. "Ooooohhhh, that feels really good," he said. I felt his prick swelling in my hand. Harold grasped mine, which responded immediately to the warmth of his fingers. He eagerly worked my foreskin up and down the head, using the long strokes he knew I enjoyed. Every third or fourth stroke he gave my hood a twist for an extra fillip of sensation. We got into a "69" position on the bed for easier access to each other's groin and I cupped his tightening scrotum with my other hand. I was staring right at the end of his condom-covered prick and each time I pulled back on the latex sheath his long slit came into view, already leaking. I gave the condom a few quick twisting strokes and felt the tension increase in his body. I knew that after hours of being semi-erect he was primed for a quick orgasm, and I reached over for a wad of Kleenex. Harold turned onto his back, still holding on to my prick, but aware that he'd shoot first. I got up on my knees and crouched over him, lovingly stroking his shapely penis, twisting with each stroke. I knew the twisting action was sending messages of bliss into the nerve endings around his corona, and I concentrated my efforts there. His breathing increased rapidly as his excitement mounted, and now his legs had developed a tremor. He was still holding my prick but his impending orgasm had focused all his attention on his sensations. "Just relax, Harold," I coached him. "Make it last. Hold on to my prick if it turns you on." "Oh, Jack, holding your cock is such a turn-on. That and feeling your fingers around mine is just heaven." "I can feel your prick getting harder through the latex," I told him. "The latex is translucent, so I can see that the head's darker. You're close." I increased my pace to bring him right to the edge, and then stopped. "How's that?" I asked. "You right there?" His eyes locked on mine. ""That feels so good, Jack. My cock's all tingly." I resumed stroking his prick, very slowly, because I wanted the sensations to flow into him slowly, instead of a rapid surge. I saw large clear drops seeping through the lips of his long slit, and then he gave a loud groan and his body shuddered. His slit was lined up with the opening in the condom, and his first jet shot right out of it onto the wad of tissues I was holding. I smelled the sharp chlorine odor of his juice. He yelped and the second ejaculation came as my hand had pulled the condom forward, and was intercepted by the latex membrane. I pulled back and the semen poured from the condom just as his third torrent erupted, soaking the tissues. I stroked him several more times, twisting my fist to enhance his sensations, until he was spent and still. His prick began to shrink inside the latex sheath, and I reached for more Kleenexes to wrap his prick and absorb the juices. "That was great," he said when he revived from his dazed state. "Now let me do you. You lie down." I did as he said and now he was crouching over my mid-section, his right hand working my foreskin while his left cupped my balls. I was fully aroused from having watched and felt him come, and it didn't take long until the tension built up in my body and my eyes closed. I felt him pull my foreskin all the way down off the head, baring my rim and groove, and then I felt his soft lips engulf my helmet. I was close, very close, and my engorged glans ached for relief. His lips twisted sharply around my corona, sending hot sparks of sensation stabbing deeply into my swollen flesh. A hot flash engulfed my prick, triggering the first spasm deep inside me. I arched my back as I cried out, my attention totally focused on my prick and the jet of hot lava searing its way up my urethra. He twisted his lips around my corona again while his tongue drilled into my pouting slit, and another sharp contraction gripped my prick-root. I cried out again at the overwhelming sensation, suffused with the sweet agony of orgasm. His lips twisted again around my rim and made me yelp again as the thick rope of cream surged up my prick. Now he removed his lips and began yanking down rhythmically on the skin of my shaft, dragging and stretching my foreskin and frenulum tightly, making my helmet dip in response as another jet erupted from its orifice. His action was stretching the nerve endings in my foreskin, gee-string, and the tissues of the helmet itself.
My prick responded to the stimulation, sending several more jets into his waiting mouth. I felt his lips barely touch the front dome of my glans as they eagerly sucked in my jets. My orgasm was fading fast, and soon I was still, feeling drained and exhausted.
"I just love your big helmet throbbing in my mouth," I heard him say from a vast distance. I slowly returned to normal as my breathing slowed, and now I opened my eyes. Harold kissed me and said:
"That's really nice, feeling you shooting your juice into my mouth. I love the taste, the smell, everything about it." We hugged for several minutes, enjoying the afterglow. I knew that Harold needed sleep, and I got up from the bed after he fell asleep in my arms.
It went on like this for several days, with the three of us anxiously waiting for something to happen that would point us in the right direction. Investigations often run this way, taxing our patience, until at times we're ready to give up hope. However, an event in an unexpected quarter opened up the case for us once more.
Continued in Part 8