Bait and Switch

Bait and Switch Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)

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This is an older story I wrote some time ago, but is new to Nifty.

Bait and Switch by Bill Drake

His hair was dripping wet, and the drops of water were even falling onto my desk all over the paperwork. You'd think that coaching basketball at a second-tier state university like this one, I wouldn't need to be bothered with all this goddamned paperwork. Yeah, you would think the results would be enough: the Trojans had gone on to their division finals in the last four years and had won two of those years.

"Hey Coach," his young baritone voice came from above me. I looked up at the source. Brian Hayes is his name, and he's the star player on the team. Gifted young man on the court and, if I might add, in the looks department too. Dimpled, boy-next-door face with tousled light brown hair and pale blue eyes. Nicely proportioned nose and lips. Goddamned hot son of a bitch. I looked up in amazement and drunk in the sight of my top athlete, his frame dripping beads of water from the shower and his waist covered in a loose pair of nylon jersey knit shorts.

"Yeah, boy?" I asked, dropping my pen and putting my hands out to make contact with his firm abs. Electricity jolted between us as my fingers met the warm, wet skin stretched taut over rippled, hard stomach muscle. Pursuing a random trail, my touch took in the soft scruff of his young jock body hair. Not too much - the guy's pecs were still smooth as fuck. Just enough to turn a horndog coach like me on big time.

The kid shoulda known it too. Should have had my number. The whole two and a half years on the team, he could have been leading ole Coach around by the dick, calling the shots.

Only Hayes, the broad-chested specimen of jock perfection, had two things that kept him from finding his inner alpha-male. Reason number one, his dick was small. Not tiny, mind you, just a medium-width, cylindrical five-and-a-half inch piece that was probably good for poking sorority girls, but not much of an intimidation for real men aware of the unspoken pecking order in deep man-to-man sex.

I never got the sense that Brian felt self-conscious in the least about his cock size. But neither did I miss the way he looked at my full crotch. Like now. Those blue eyes couldn't take their gaze away from the nice, thick ten incher I got poking a tent in my khakis. I spread my legs and let his mouth water even more.

Finally able to look back into my face, my cute jock spoke again. "I'm just wondering if you still want to go out tonight."

Fixing his gaze in mine, I stood up - slowly, proudly, in full command. I reached out and pinched his pink-brown, quarter-sized nipples, which immediately tensed up into miniature erections as I rubbed the pencil-eraser-sized nubs in my fingertips. "What's the matter, Hayes, you don't want Coach to buy you a few drinks to thank you for your hard work on the court?"

He smiled. The kid knew that that wasn't the real reason I was taking him out. And he knew that I knew he knew. Still, he played along. "That sounds fine, Coach. Only, well, before we go, I was wondering..." His face blushed three shades of crimson and he gave me one of those hangdog looks that made my dick leak something bad.

Letting go of his nips, I wrapped my thick arms around his taut jock build. Yeah, this kid was definitely hot shit. If you haven't had 230 pounds of freshly washed NCAA jock muscle in your arms, you haven't quite lived. Feeling his hard spike poking up in his team-issued shorts, poking its rounded head against my own trapped erection, well, that just made it all feel that much better.

With the passion and dedication that only a coach could show, I leaned my head in and attacked his corded bull neck with my mouth, alternating between long tongue strokes and soft, manic biting. Meanwhile, my hands lowered down his backside til they found their target, an impressive masculine rump that jumped and flexed beneath my touch.

Yeah, this was reason number two Brian Hayes, big man on the court, played second fiddle once he got in my office. In my hands was the finest jock butt on campus. Before I coached, I couldn't imagine that a basketball player could have a rear end as fine and round and well-formed as this. I just didn't think it possible. It wasn't chunky and slack like a lot of athletes his bulk, just tight in its perfect hemispheric shape: a true bubble ass. Not only did Brian prove my expectations wrong, but that first day I sank my shaft into him, I knew that I'd found a stud that was born to be fucked. Some guys have super-sensitive cocks, but Hayes has a super-sensitive ass.

That butt flexed under the grip of my greedy paws. "Don't worry, Hayes. I think we have a little time..."

"Ah coach..." he grunted, humping his hard dick into my crotch in what I was sure was an attempt to enrage me to full-on fuck mode. He almost succeeded too, but fortunately I do have some self-control.

Which was more than I can say for my star jock. With a grunt, he gripped his shorts and shucked them down. I had two hard globes of naked jock ass flesh in my hand, and it felt fantastic. Backing off slightly, I looked Brian in the eyes, the hunger relaying between us with deep urgency. Pressing forward, my lips met his, and in a movement like the many times I kicked apart his meaty legs, my tongue pressed forward and parted his lips, pushing forward into the warm, wet cavity of his mouth.

Hayes bucked and swiveled his hips back. Fuckin' hell, this jock was mine.

And the fucker was ready too. I could feel his dick sap soaking through my trousers. Gripping his shoulders, I gave him one last kiss then pushed his body straight back onto the desk. Those legs of his spread just like they needed to and I was rewarded with the magnificent sight of this naked football star splayed on my desk, his hardon leaking and his ass pucker twitching beneath the brown hair lining his crack.

With a leer on my face, I slowly bent my knees and allowed my upper body to slide down the back wall of my office. Soon my face was lined up that fine, hungry hole. And I was pretty damn hungry myself. I leaned forward, his powerful, masculine scent drawing my inward. When my nose touched the region beneath his ballsac, Brian moaned and hiked his legs up further. That's my boy, I thought, and spit straight onto his pucker.

"God, Coach!" he exclaimed. I could feel the heat radiating off both of us and the fresh, jock smell that filled my nostrils now that his flesh was touching mine, his legs rubbing against the close-cropped hair on the side of my head.

I went in for the kill, lapping up my spit wad and tonguing his ass like crazy. I kissed, licked, teased, probed and worked my way around that hole. I didn't need any special encouragement to rim Hayes. Ever. Goddamn finest ass in the whole school, in the whole state, I wouldn't have said no to eating it out morning, noon and night.

But tonight was special. I wanted to give my player something in thanks for what he was gonna give me later on that night. Besides, it was his victory celebration. Four runs in, a double play, and a strong arm all game. He fucking deserved the wettest, hottest rim job, and more.

So, eagerly, I lapped at his sweet jock hole and pushed my tongue forward to probe his tight anus. The ring of muscle did a butterfly dance on the tip of my tongue, driving me crazy as well. I pulled back and surveyed the fine jockcunt in front of me. For good measure I spit on the gash again, then I pushed his legs up more, wrapping my arms around the firm muscle. Lifting his ass off the desk slightly, I used the new position to pull his butt right onto my hard-munching mouth.

This time my experienced oral weapon speared and prodded his inner lining til he gave it up. Those college athlete legs gripped my head like a fucking nutcracker as the steed unloaded all over his muscle jock body. Eventually the spasms that I could feel against my lips and tongue slowed down to a halt.

My work done, I stood up and surveyed the sight. Before me lay a sweaty, cum-soaked and happy jock boy. Big, honking gobs of white gelled seed dotted the stomach hairs, leading up to his smooth, round mounds of chest muscle, where straight jets of his spray had left perfect white lines arcing up to his shoulder blades. I reached down and felt my throbbing erection. I almost unsheathed that baby and walked it right into Brian's relaxed, spit-lubed chute. I think that's what Hayes expected me to do. He looked up at me in eager anticipation.

Seeing such a perfect young man, satisfied in the way only another man can know, did two things. It made me horny as fuck. My nuts were pumping out their juice already, lubing up my dickhead, which remained painfully trapped in my trousers. Second thing was it made me remember my plans for the evening. I could wait, and my nut would be even more intense than one Hayes just had.

"All right, kid. Get up and get dressed. Your coach needs a drink after the spit polish I just gave your ass."

"Yes, sir," Hayes responded with a smile as he gathered his energy and stood up from the desk. His rough lips found mine and we swapped spit for a minute before the boy went to get ready for the evening.

2

The Haven had some of the hottest, beefiest men in the city, all crammed into a tight space, but damned if the kid didn't turn every head in the place. He was wearing his casual jock off-field 'uniform', a snug athletic T-shirt, a loose pair of practice shorts that still somehow clung to his amazing bubble butt, a ball cap, and running shoes (no socks). I guess I was in top form that night, too: jeans and a plain white T showed that I kept my beefy coach bod in shape. I'd really been working the hell out of my abs lately, so the tight cotton material stretched tight over a flat, firm belly that made the prominent chest muscles that much more impressive.

While Brian went to the bar, I sat down on one of the bar stools, my legs spread apart as I scoped out the crowd. A bunch of fine, fuckable men were there, undoubtedly, but I hadn't spotted the one yet. Didn't quite know who the one would be - older or younger, tall or squat, beefy or lean, blonde or brunette - I just knew I'd recognize him when I saw him. While I scanned the display of men - men on the prowl, men out with their friends on a Saturday night, men just wanting to get a drink to let off some steam from the week - I noticed that a number of men would slow by as they passed and would check me out. One, a boy-next-door-cute college boy with a fine body, even if not as fine as Brian's, came up and introduced himself. Many other nights, I would have pounced at the opportunity to take a stud this eager and adorable home for an all-night bone-burying session. But tonight I needed something more, so I begged off.

"I understand," the guy said, smiling an impossibly white smile. He tilted his head toward Hayes, who was still at the bar waiting for our drinks. "I don't know if that jock you came in with is your boyfriend, but he's hot. Hell, you're both fucking hot. Anyway," he said shoving a piece of paper into my hand, "here's my number. If you want a little fun, or are looking for a third, give me a call. "

"Sure, kid, I will," I promised, in all sincerity, winking to him as I placed the number in my back pocket as college boy walked away.

My star player came back with two beers and eased his body in between my thighs as he rested his meaty back against my burly chest. The kid was radiating heat even through his cotton shirt; then again, so was I. I took a swig from the beer bottle with one hand and the other I wrapped around Hayes' torso. If this wasn't heaven I don't know what was: a night on the town, with this hunk in my possession, captive to my lazy exploration of his rippled abs, his powerhouse ballplayer chest, his sensitive nips. All the while, Brian would grind his award-winning butt into my overheated crotch. By now, my boner strained up and to the right in my jeans. Don't tell me this kid didn't know what he was doing.

Occasionally Hayes would point out some stud and ask me what I thought. But none were quite right. Mostly, though, we just stay there intertwined and enjoying the horniness slowly building up inside us, a gradual wave of sexual crescendo.

Finally it got too much. I knew Hayes was full-on erect before he even turned around, but the intensity of our kiss as his mouth ground against mine let me know my star player was really worked up tonight. Roughly, he grabbed my exposed bulging bicep muscles in his powerful grip. Nothing turned Brian on like my huge, overworked guns, and I savored his involuntarily grunts of approval as we made out in the middle of the goddamned bar.

Of course, my paws were traveling south down the fine curvature of Hayes' lats and the small of his back, til they reached their prize. Once again, that bubble ass flexed and teased me underneath my hold. And since the jock wasn't wearing anything underneath those flimsy shorts, I could detect every bit of smoothness of those fine butt cheeks. I just groaned and held on for dear life.

After a few minutes of deep spit swap, we broke our kiss and looked at each other in intense, sexed up fever.

"Come on, coach, let's go. I gotta get fucked tonight. Bad."

"I know, kid," I said hoarsely, as I attacked his muscle neck with my tongue and lips and teeth. "I know how much my boy needs it... Fuck, your daddy didn't give you enough dick growing up, did he?" I teased.

Brian laughed, and stood back a little, but that didn't stop his hand from falling into my lap and grabbing hold of the ten-inch cuntsplitter trapped in my jeans. "God, Coach! You say some nasty shit sometimes."

I grinned and cocked my eyebrow. "Hell, Brian, you know you love it when I push your buttons." The jock's hand was massaging my aching prick now, and I spread my thighs further apart to let him have at it.

I swear he blushed again. He all of a sudden became self-conscious that we were on display in a public place and began looking around to notice that a lot of the men were staring at us in looks of lust and envy.

That's when I looked over Brian's shoulder and saw him. The one. There were two of them, actually, a pair of street cops who'd walked in. One was a tall, meaty specimen of testosterone-fueled masculinity and muscular perfection - a man of about 40, with dark, maybe Italian, looks, a roman nose, and salt and pepper hair. Nice square jaw. His muscles strained his navy-blue uniform as the two men walked across the bar toward the bartender, who they knew apparently. The man probably was ex-military, and certainly carried his imposing frame with confidence and self-assurance. The other cop was younger, much younger, maybe 20, 22 tops, a blonde stud whose pale skin stood out in comparison to his elder partner. He was shorter, squat even at 5'9", with a barrel chest and a faint trace of belly being reined in by the uniform belt. Nervously his eyes darted around the room, unsure of what to make of the sight of that many men packed into one room. I could make out, though, that his uneasiness was mixed with cockiness, and his chest swelled with each inward breath, til it was forcing the uniform shirt out even more. So he stood at the bar next to his partner, his stance assertive, legs apart, crotch forward, hands on his hips.

In an instant, without ever having seen either police officer, I knew the situation. End of shift, the senior partner mentions that he know where they can go to get some great head. They would go under the guise of checking out the establishment, making sure everything was on the up and up. Older cop, probably married, had been doing this for years and knew all of the bars' bouncers and bartenders. Who in turn knew the cop was there to pick up some no-strings-attached fuck for the night before going home to his wife - who was frigid, unwilling to put out, or just always asleep when her husband got home from second shift duty. The younger cop is hesitant at first but eager to get a blowjob and, drunk with the power of the uniform, gets off on the idea of making a fag suck him off.

A glance down at the dark-haired man's left hand revealed a wedding band and confirmed that at least part of my theory was right. And even from across the bar, I could see that his cop meat was swelling up in anticipation of hot, raw mansex. Not a bad piece tucked down the leg of his uniform. His gaze swept the room, and I knew that my suspicions were confirmed, that he was on the prowl for a good suck job, a fuck, something. Finally, he leaned over to his junior partner and whispered something in his ear. The kid grinned cockily and made his way to the men's room. If he wasn't gonna get his rookie cock swallowed whole in there, I'd give my left nut.

When I looked back at the other stud, he was staring straight at me and Brian. Or rather straight at Brian's ass. The man was captivated, his tongue unconsciously stuck out, his eyes wide in appreciation.

Hayes meanwhile was licking the side of my neck, teasing my earlobe with his jock tongue. One hand gripped my erection, the other my right bicep. A twitch of my dick made him take notice.

"Geez, Coach, you're hard as steel. I love it when this fucker gets turned on."

"Shit, Hayes," I whispered in his ear. "We have a live one. He just took the bait," I growled, kneading his muscular butt cheeks in my hands. Deftly, my right hand eased down below the hem of his shorts and felt the bare skin and leg hairs along Brian's sinewed hamstrings. Then I pushed up under the shorts material, feeling the hot buns and moist crevice ready for my inspection.

"Shit!" Hayes gasped as my digit raked across his puckered rosebud. It was still spit-wet from my rim job earlier, and I smiled knowing how much more sensitive his jocklips would be, how the lubrication would amplify the tremors of pleasure washing over my athlete's body.

I looked up at our admirer in blue and was happy to see his face smiling in horny appreciation of our little exhibition. Slowly, his gaze traveled up from Hayes' perfect ass, up his back, to lock gazes with me. I nodded in acknowledgement then leaned into Brian and planted a deep, wet kiss on the ballplayer's hungry mouth.

"Why don't you go get us a couple more beers, stud," I said. "And if you want to know who I've spotted, it's the cop standing against the far wall."

"All right, Coach. Be right back." Brian sneaked a look as he disentangled from between my legs and made his way to the bar.

The police officer wasted no time. He crossed the room and stood next to me.

"Your boyfriend's hot shit, you know..."

I looked up at him. I wouldn't guess I was more than an inch and a half shorter than the man, but sitting on my stool, the difference felt greater. Up close, the hunk was everything I could have imagined and hoped for from a distance. Movie-star handsome, yet rough and masculine at the same time, his face oozed sexual magnetism. Between his ten o'clock shadow, his roman nose and his deep brown eyes, I was almost lost in his gaze. And that even before appraising the fighting-fit build packing his snug uniform. A name badge read Cpl. Frank Malone.

"Yeah, man, I know. Kid's got the best ass in the city, if you asked me."

The officer looked over at Hayes, whose backside was plainly visible at the bar, then back at me. "No argument here. You guys ever play around?"

This was going just like I'd hoped. Only I wanted to play it slow. "Whaddya mean? With a third guy?"

The married cop swallowed in horniness, then spoke, almost whispered. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

I took a swig from my beer, then spoke deliberately. "To tell you the truth, bud, yeah, we do enjoy a hot threeway from time to time. With the right man."

Malone shifted in his stance and reached down to rearrange the tubesteak filling out his crotch. I couldn't tell exactly how big a gun the cop was packing, but it was certainly nothing to be ashamed of. "Shit," he cussed. "I don't know if I'm the right man, but I'd love for us to double team his ass. Whadya say?"

"I'm sure the kid would love it. He's pretty fucking insatiable."

The cop's grin broke out into a full smile. White teeth, not too straight. "Yeah?" For a gruff, hard-as-nails bastard this guy was downright adorable when he smiled.

"Yes, sir. Only, what's in it for me?"

"What do you mean?" The lug was so wrapped up in the fantasy of banging jock butt that he didn't think about anything else.

"Well, I'm going to be sinking my pole into his butt tonight regardless. You, on the other hand..."

"Why share?, in other words. I see what you mean." He paused for a second in thought. He looked over at Brian then back at me. "Geez, guy, to get a crack at an ass that fine, I'd do anything. Suck you off, hell I'll even rim you."

Hearing those words in such a deep timbered voice stoked my inner fires, but I kept cool on the outside. "Sounds hot, stud."

"Yeh?" By now a definite shift had overcome our officer of the law. He was realizing that his normal bottom-seduction skills weren't going to cut it here. So instead of salivating over the sight of Hayes, he focused his gaze and attention on me.

"Yeah. But I want more. I want your ass."

"Ho, ho! Wait a minute, big guy, I don't bottom. Ever. For anyone. Now if..."

I interrupted him. "Well, the deal's off then, isn't it?"

That stopped him cold. He didn't really have anything to say to persuade me, since I'd laid it out for him in plain English. After a minute of stunned silence (I noticed his dick hadn't gone down at all in his uniform pants), he shrugged, "Guess it is, big guy." Then that piece of perfection walked away.

Just afterward, Brian came back with the next round.

"What happened, Coach? I thought you said that cop was a live one."

"He still is, stud, don't worry." I replied before meeting my man for a full liplock. Hayes just about dropped our beers.

3

It was only a matter of thirty minutes or so before Officer Malone came sniffing around again. Hayes was once again snug between my legs as we alternated scoping the room and working each other into a horned frenzy. Nonchalantly, the cop pulled up the barstool next to us and sat down.

"All right," he said. "You got it."

"Got what?" I asked. I was going to make this hard for him.

He shook his head in disbelief at my chutzpa. "My ass, fucker. Better take it before I change my mind. I don't do this - ever. I get to fuck the stud here and you can have a go at me."

"Uh-uh. I go first." I was playing hardball. This guy needed to be knocked down a peg or two. "Then this kid's ass is yours." I swatted Brian's butt for emphasis. The kid was horned up for sure, I could see it in his eyes if not the tent-stake erection obscenely announcing his arousal. Our lips crashed. I wanted to reassure my jock stud as much as possible.

Our officer mulled it over. "And you kid? You're hot for this? I wanna hear it from you."

Brian grinned his trademark NCAA jock grin and stepped out from between my legs and up next to the burly cop. I couldn't hear what he said as he leaned forward and whispered into the man's ear, but I knew it was nasty as hell. And exactly what the cop wanted to hear. His big paw fell to his lap and began massaging a set of genitals undoubtedly getting the blue balls from all the teasing he was getting.

He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. "Man... I don't know. You sure we can't just...?"

He didn't even finish. Guess cause he knew the answer. "No man, we can't. You gotta put out if you wanna fuck 'im."

A disgusted look battled the permanent drool of lust that had been implanted on his face for the past forty minutes. "Shit, this is insane." I notice he didn't say no.

"Why don't you take a feel, cop? Feel that ass, and maybe you can decide if it's worth it."

It was like he was waiting for the invitation, because in a flash his thick mitt was exploring every inch of the bubble butt that was the focus point of half the bar. Brian scooted in between the cop's fine vascular legs, in the same position he'd been in with me before, only his back was turned to Officer Malone as he faced me, allowing me to read every minute emotion on his All-American jock face.

"Kid, you got one hell of an ass," the man said in appreciation. Brian wasn't shy either, his hands dropped to his side and gripped the policeman's power thighs, rubbing up the length of the polyester material. His ballplayer prick surged forward in his shorts. So the kid's got a thing for uniforms - can you blame him?

Both of them seemed content enough in their mutual admiration society meeting, but I wanted to ratchet it up a notch. I stood up and gave Hayes a quick kiss. By now my stubble would be driving the stud crazy, and I used it to full advantage, rubbing my lips all over his chin and neck.

Pulling back I looked over Hayes shoulder. Two melon-sized balls of athlete ass filled Malone's hands, which mercilessly kneaded the elastic muscle. I reached down and gripped one of his hands. It didn't want to let go, but I pried it loose, pulling it down below the kid's butt. The man must have thought I was telling him to stop, so reluctantly he pulled off Hayes' right cheek as well. Only I placed the cop's left paw at the edge of Brian's shorts hem and guided it underneath the material. Malone did the rest of the work, pushing up over the mound of jock muscle and into the valley between Hayes' beautiful glutes.

From the look on Brian's face, I could tell that the fucker sure zeroed in on his target quick. The kid gave me that pleading look that he always gives when I tease his pucker with my oversized rod. "Go ahead," I urged. "Push it in."

The cop didn't answer, if you don't count animalistic grunts as an answer. His hairy forearm disappeared up the leg of Hayes' shorts as more and more of his index finger sunk into hot, masculine man cunt.

"You like, buddy?"

The cop's smile told me all I needed to know.

But I didn't want this to go too far. Besides, I had an ass to fuck, and if this went much longer I was gonna get an intractable case of the blue balls myself.

"Enough, gentlemen. Let's take this back to my place." Placing my hands on Brian's shoulder's I pulled the star player toward me and off the molesting cop's hand. "You coming, stud?" I asked to the hunky officer.

For the first time, he didn't seem to have doubt in his eye. He looked up at me and replied. "Yeah, bud, I am."

4

The kid had been living with me for the last year. No need to have him subjected to the distractions of dorm life when he could be bunking with me each evening. And every night, Brian would lie in our queen sized sex-nest and give it up for his Coach. His favorite position was to lie face down, hike his bubble ass up in the air and sigh as I smothered his frame with my own muscle bod and sunk in long and deep. I actually enjoyed missionary for the chance to see his jock face, but then again the power of topping him prostrate was a major turn on for both of us.

But tonight was different of course. Once we got back at my place, we three stood in the middle of the guest room. Brian had given me a look when I led the cop here rather than our bedroom, but he didn't say anything.

The kid was real horny by now - we were all horny - so he wasted no time. He stepped up to the cop and undid the belt on his uniform, opening up the pant crotch to let free the hard, masculine scepter that was trapped inside.

"That's it, stud. Let that big boy out to play. You like my meat, dontcha kid. Ah yeah, that's it, wrap your hand around my pole. Feels good, buddy."

I was impressed at the monster sticking straight out from Malone's navy blue uniform. Not as long as me, Mallone probably stopped just shy of eight inches, but the thickness and hard power and sheer beauty of his cock announced that the top was a force to be reckoned with. Brian's hands aren't small, but this prick dwarfed the athele's paw gripping it. Several fat, cylindrical inches extended past the knuckle of Hayes' batting hand, only this bat was capped with a juicy, generous hood. Flaps of luscious foreskin gathered at the tip, then retracted whenever Brian jerked the cop prick, opening a view of a wet-as-fuck rounded cocktip dribbling more and more fuck lube by the second.

Mallone was a man in his prime and I was gonna enjoy taking him down all the more. Hell, if I wasn't such a confirmed ass man, I'd have been down there scarfing that dick down, grabbing the man's meaty ass cheeks to stuff as much Italian cop sausage down my gullet as I could. Which is what Brian must have been thinking exactly, because without instruction he let go of the hot object in his hand and fell into the familiar kneel. I don't know what was hotter, experiencing one of Hayes' blowjobs or watching one.

"Shit! The kid knows how to suck dick," the cop exclaimed looking at me in the kind of worked-up heat of a man who hasn't had a college-jock blow job in a while.

"Yeh, he does," I agreed leaning into to kiss this married hunk.

A beefy hand pushed right between my pecs and stopped my forward motion. "Uh-uh," he intoned. "I came here to fuck. That's it, big guy."

So the gruff cop didn't kiss. Whatever. I was gonna pork his fine commissioned butt in a few minutes whether he kissed me or not.

So Hayes continued sucking and I continued my watching from the sidelines. Finally with a gasp, Brian spit out the megacock and leaned back. He took a second to survey his work, a nice, hardened piece of mancock spit slick and ready for more. Then he crawled up on the bed on all fours and bent his head down til it rested on the pillow. His beautiful man butt was open and vulnerable to inspection.

"Rim that fucker!" I growled in Malone's ear. He liked this suggestion better than my last, and proceeded to get in place behind Hayes. Still in full uniform, with a fat hardon poking out from his fly, he hunkered down and spread Brian's cheeks with his powerful cop hands.

The moans coming from Brian told me our officer hadn't wasted time spearing deep with his tongue. The two quickly settled down into one of those deep, primordial man-to-man connections that defies words. Conqueror and conquered getting acquainted. Alpha male making love to the cunt he's gonna open up. Jock getting reminded why he's a man.

Of course, I had some conquering to do, too. So stealthily I crept up behind Malone's beefy bod. Reaching under his waist, I fumbled with the belt, all the while the man's eight-inch spike prodded my hands and wrist. The guy was getting real wet going to town on Hayes' butt. I knew the feeling, having been in his perch countless times. Right now, I just enjoyed the dewy wetness of his rod poking my hands.

Finally I shucked down the uniform pants and underwear beneath, revealing one hot, meaty top ass. It wasn't a bubble-butt like Hayes', it was definitely a grown man's, less round, more powerful, and pure muscle. The globes were smooth and pale, but dark hair lined his crack and got denser as they led to the inviolate space between his legs. I wedged my nose in and smelt the aroma of an honest day's shift. The hairs tickled my nose and I'm sure my stubble was doing a number on Officer Malone's sensitive skin, cause he moaned louder and slurped harder at Hayes' hole.

Or maybe he just knew what was next. My lips pushed forward and met his taut rosebud in a long, wet kiss. Fluttering with my tongue, I rimmed that fucker, painting his back entrance with a nice, thick layer of manspit and ushering him to the next level of Nirvana. I was feeling pretty swell, too, and I maneuvered my jeans off so I could grip my neglected, leaking tool.

I almost expected the married stud to pull back and order me to stop, but he never did. Nor did he hesitate in eating out Hayes when I knelt up on the bed, peeled off my shirt and scooted up behind his spread legs. The iron-built tough was quite a sight in his full uniform, his trousers pulled down mid-thigh and his cap obscuring the deep drilling his tongue was giving my jock. I reached over to the dresser and grabbed the lube. As I slicked my rod, I wondered if Malone had any clue of the size of the tool that was about to shaft him. Probably not, I chuckled to myself and pushed my meat down into position. Lining up my throbbing monster, I nudged forward enough to breech the tight ring. That sphincter gripped me, gripped me hard. If I had any doubts that this butt never saw any action, they were cleared at that moment. I was breaking new ground. That ring didn't want to let me go anywhere, in or out, but I persevered and clenched my buttocks, driving my cock in past the resistance. It sank in, pretty much all the way.

That seemed to get his attention. "Holy fuck! Easy there, buddy!" Malone growled as his bowels clenched down on my dick. I gave him a minute to get used to it and held dead still, my cock throbbing so hard I thought it would burst. I took the chance to run my hands under the shirttails of his uniform, feeling the powerful mass of his fine back. That seemed to relax him a little, and it turned me on a lot, and soon my hips were gently rocking and my prick was fucking this subjugated cop.

By now, Hayes had left his position at the headboard and was kneeling beside me. He was hard, bone hard, and insanely wet from the precum he'd been leaking all this time. This kid deserved to get off big tonight. For now, though he seemed content to watch me. We locked eyes as I pounded Frank's tight butt. Then his gaze would shift down to watch my big stalk appear and disappear up the cop's guts. At one point we kissed and it was like the sexual energy was flowing back and forth between us.

"How big are you man?" Frank asked impatiently. "You're tearing me apart."

"You don't wanna know, man," I laughed, grinding my ten-incher deep into him. He groaned at the deep penetration. I looked over and Brian's nuts were drawn up tight against his cockstalk. I knew the inevitable could be forestalled only so long, so I reached over and roughly grabbed his hardon. Two tugs and his body shook violently and his hand gripped my shoulder. Hayes might not have had the world's biggest dick, but man can that boy shoot a load. His rocket-launcher pulsed and belted out hot ropes of white, pearly man slime onto the fucked cop's back. The jism soaked the uniform shirt from the nape of his neck to the small of his back.

Malone, meanwhile, still grunted from the discomfort of the assault on his ass. I didn't back off of my pace, but I reached underneath his extended arms and hooked my hands underneath his meaty chest.

"Here you go cop, I think it's time for you to enjoy this fuck," I hissed and pulled his torso up.

The change in angles worked wonders as now my staff was massaging his prostate on each upthrust.

"Oh Shit! Fuck, man, that feels great!" Cpl. Malone was turning into one noisy screw, while his bowels were dancing some incredible number on my ramming manstalk. The new position let us both drive: I continued my full-piston priming while Malone jerked and flexed his massive quad muscles the best he could with the dark blue polyester trousers restraining them mid-thigh. The effect was to turn me on big time and to drive the beefy married cop delirious.

"Goddamnit, why does this feel so good? I'm no fucking faggot. Oh, fuck! Fuck me, guy!"

I grappled my arms around his burly chest and pulled tight, so that the officer's stud-built back was pressed hard against my heaving chest. I could feel the material wet with Hayes' load, the scent of jock cream mixing with man sweat and whatever cheap-ass musk cologne Malone was wearing and it just spurred me on to harder strokes. My cock slipped out a couple of times, but I didn't miss a beat, I just lined it up on in the in stroke and fucked away. Our officer seemed especially appreciative of the renewed penetration.

That thick neck was just too delicious-looking to resist, so I bit and licked my way around every square centimeter of muscle. "Damn, cop!" I growled in his ear as our rut heated up. "You're a hot fuck. Gotta cool down." I slowed to a halt and extracted my rock-rigid meat. A plop filled the room and a whimper escaped Malone's lips.

With my hands, I guided his waist so he turned around to face me.

Nothing could have prepared me for the look in his brown eyes. Pleading. Defiance. Confusion. Sheer balls-drawn-up horniness. Guess which was winning out.

I wanted to kiss those fine, full lips right then, but I knew it had to be Malone doing it, not me, at least if it meant anything. So I placed my hands on his broad shoulders and pushed him back on the mattress. Hayes and I wasted no time in removing his shoes and uniform pants. I took a minute to admire and feel the powerful legs on the guy - stocky yet sinewed with toned muscle, hairy from ankle to crotch. Slowly I ran my hands up his left leg and Brian took the cue to do the right. Malone shuddered in anticipation, shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Brian and I bumped noses then open mouths. This was all about me, about my pleasure. Hayes knew it, and was signaling to me that it was OK. That Coach deserved this fuck.

Brian and my hand met right at the junction of the cop's inner thighs and perineum. I don't know whose finger penetrated the stud's mangash first, but it elicited a groan of approval. Soon we were alternating fingers, then teasing the hole simultaneously.

When I thought Malone was worked up sufficiently and my dick had had a chance to cool down, I crawled in place. As expected, his ass lips were moist and loose enough for me to lodge my engorged cock head back in. And push.

"Yes!" we both said . I could feel Hayes' renewed hardon on my hip, edging the side of my right butt cheek. For a minute I thought my bottom athlete was going to try to mount his top man. But he just stayed there and watched as I resumed fucking our prostrate cop, his hand clasped on my clammy shoulder.

Maybe Malone was starting to get self-conscious about taking it up the ass. Maybe he just wanted to make me work for my reward. In any case, he tried to keep his legs together as much as possible and to push me away. I pushed back just that much harder, pounding hard and deep as the position would allow.

Then I started unbutton that tight uniform shirt. "Come on, cop, let's see that big boy chest of yours." He grinned and started helping me. Soon, a powerful chest covered in silver and dark hair greeted me. Below me was one of the hottest sights I'd seen in a while. About 220 pounds of big, beefy cop, his olive-cream skin turning flush from sexual excitement. His face was contorted into a sneer of pleasure, which would occasionally break into a gasp of surprise at the sensations he was feeling inside him, ones he either didn't know he could feel or had forgotten he could. Judging from the drum-tight pitch of his sphincter against my babymaker, I knew it was the first. If this uberstud's backside wasn't virgin territory, it sure as hell hadn't been broken in properly. Ever.

Well, it was getting broken in right now. I reached underneath his tree-trunk thighs and hoisted them up, pushing us both forward to a different penetration angle. It did wonders for both of us.

Hayes knelt on the bed, next to us, aghast and horny and utterly pleased at the same time. I got an earful of nasty sex talk in my ear while I shafted Officer Malone. This from the kid who a few hours ago was two shy to ask for a rim job. He liked seeing his top man in action, it transformed him. Yeah, we'd done this before, pick up some fuckmeat at the bar for our pleasure. But often they were cute, young jocks like Hayes. The fact that this conquest was the biggest and butchest ever turned him on.

Damn it turned me on, too. I'd discovered it by accident, the sheer pleasure of fucking top ass, when one of our playmates a few months back had been turned on by my huge piece and offered his butt. And now I was reaming some goddamned uniformed officer, a cocky bastard used to calling all the shots. Talk about a rush, I was swimming in power and heat and the biggest, most steeled-up hardon I'd ever had. All plowing into the warm, wet, tight guts of my officer friendly over and over again.

And Malone was loving it. So I was. His tight, velvet smooth ass. His heaving torso. The steel-grey gaze peeking out from beneath his uniform cap, staring me down, begging me to fuck him harder. It was all too much for yours truly. I was gonna nut in the next minute, and nothing would stop me.

The cop knew it too, he could tell by looking up into the face of his deranged fucker. Instantly, his body seized up in concern. "No, man, don't. Pull out before you shoot, OK?" he grunted. I was impressed he could get out a word between each breath I was knocking out of him from the inside out.

"Uh-uh," I responded. I'd waiting too long tonight to put off shooting my wad any more, and I was too turned on to spray it anywhere but the inside of this cop's guts. With a growl, I jabbed his guts with long, hard, deep dick thrusts, then let loose.

Brian knows how big my loads are. And he correctly guessed that having been on edge for hours, this salvo of dick juice would be extra copious. "Spray 'im, Coach." He grunted, rubbing my hot, heaving chest with his thick ballplayer fingers.

The cop leaned back, his right arm reaching behind his head to grasp the headboard. The rounded ball of his arm seized up and inflated to rigid-hard full size, cables of veins criss-crossing across the surface and leading down to a moist, full tuft of dark pit hair. The sight alone made me shoot. So I pumped. Malone arched his back and felt his bowels being injected with enough seed to father a small nation. He shut his eyes while I pumped him, my dick slower now, but my ejaculation still coming on strong.

Suddenly, his eyes popped open and his sex-curled sneer morphed into a wide smile. "Feels great, bud," he muttered before his own swollen prick lifted high and wide off his abs and sprayed a high, powerful trajectory of hot, white sperm over his chest and face.

His first jet flew splat against the rim of his uniform cap, the force of it tipping the hat off back from its precarious resting place.

"Christ!" the cop yelled, as his abs contracted and his thighs clenched, pulling his lower trunk a good half foot off my distended cock. I thought he was dismounting, but instead the ball of his arm muscle swelled up and he pushed back hard against the headboard, slamming his tail against my pelvis. The effect was to sucker punch the man's inner pleasure zone and to force out another high, hard jerk of jizz. The thick juice flew up high and rained all over the man, icing his disheveled hair, wetting up his unshaven face, and coating his hairy torso.

Still, I kept fucking. I was too wound up, and so was Malone. "Yeah, fucker, keep it up. Pound my ass, fill my cop ass. You're one tough stud, aren't you, fucking whoever you like? Yeah, well you got my butt, now fuck it."

"You got it, slut. Fucking it you deep and raw. Going for a second nut, aren't we, bud? The best one, only comes when you're good and ready."

We fucked the next fifteen minutes. In the process I flipped Malone over so he was on all fours again. This time he was able to spread his thighs to give me access. And I was able to climb aboard that broad back, rippled with muscle and ride my new bronco to a new crest of pleasure. When he was nearly there, I put my hand on the back of his head pushing him down, nose first into his police cap, which was covered in his own sperm from earlier. Malone was a pig at the trough and loving it. I kept from blowing while our cop pickup spewed his juice onto the mattress below.

He collapsed in exhaustion when I pulled out. We'd leave him til tomorrow morning. Right now I had to give Hayes his reward. So we went to the master bedroom, pulled down the sheets and crawled in. We were able to go nice and slow, and I worked Brian up to the edge three times before he shot off sitting on my upright cock and I up his tight glove of a rectum. Our lips crushed one final time before he dismounted. His sleepy hand gripped my deflating cock.

"Thanks Coach," he said kneading the rubbery staff in his thick fingers. "I need this, you know."

I thought about what a sport Hayes was, putting up with my out-of-control libido and my gruff top-man attitude just so he could feel my johnston poking up his rear each and every night. I looked into his sweaty, boy-next-door face and I knew I was the luckiest bastard in the world.

"Fuck, Hayes, dontcha get it? I need you too, bud." Our lips met - deep, soulful, wet. Brian's powerful hands massaged my cum-slicked chest. Damned if my hardon wasn't popping up again.

Never let it be said I don't appreciate my athletes enough.