Emergency 69 Part 7
By Bald Hairy Man
Email, bldhrymn@excite.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
This is an adult story for adults. It is not intended for minors, nor for persons who are offended by alternate life styles.
Joe was uneasy, but he had all the makings of a first rate cocsucker. At first, he was so uptight it was hard for him to relax. He liked having Mark suck him and that loosened him up. Joe got into it and he returned the favor by sucking on Mark's massive cock.
I wasn't positive, but I was getting a suspicion Joe was also a size queen. He was soon trying to suck both Mark's and my cocks. He was doing a good job and enjoying it. He finally got excited enough to suck Mark while he was shooting. Joe swallowed some, then used Mark's spouting cock to spread all rest of the cum over his face.
Joe was a cum hound too. Mark cleaned up and went back to his room.
"Daddy, can I suck you off now?" Joe asked.
"Sure, but let's 69." I said. "I wouldn't mind some cum as a `just before bed' snack." That was fine with Joe. I shot off fairly quickly and fell asleep. When I woke the next morning, Joe was still nursing on my dick. As I said, Joe had all the makings of a first rate cocksucker.
Things were better after that. Joe had treated his squad members like dirt when he was in charge. When he saved the Trooper, everyone felt a lot better about him. He proved he was brave, if not nice and guys were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I figured he had done really well for a guy who had a Dad who had given him the worst training for leadership imaginable.
It was a busy week with classes and everyone settled down to the regular routine. All three squads were working well by now and the rivalry had vanished. I had a lot to do running B Squad. I wanted to make sure we didn't slip behind under my leadership.
Everything changed on Friday. A bomb went off in central Richmond. It was a big one and exploded in a densely populated city neighborhood. There were multiple deaths and injuries. It damaged a big Synagogue and a slew of historic buildings nearby. The Academy was thirty miles from Richmond and the entire Academy, both cadets and staff, were sent to serve. Our job was to cover for the first responders.
We all would have preferred to be in the group responding to the bombing, but we were stationed in the suburban and urban areas whose crews were at the bombing site. After it was all over I felt good about the role we played. A big disaster doesn't mean the ordinary garden-variety emergencies stop. Traffic accidents, fires and heart attacks continued without a break.
In fact, accidents increased. People were so preoccupied with the bombing; they weren't paying attention to traffic. Lots of people were concerned about another bombing; the stress seems to have caused a number of heart attacks.
We weren't familiar with the areas we were serving, so it was hard to find the people we were trying to serve. This was especially a problem in suburban subdivisions. All cul-de-sacs look alike. Joe was interviewed by a local television station and mentioned the problem. Fifteen minutes later local residents appeared to guide us. They weren't trained, but they knew the area.
Finding a hospital with an open spot was a problem too. When we had a spare moment, we transferred patients from overcrowded facilities to other hospitals. The trauma centers in the Medical Centers were filled and as soon as someone was able to move, we carried them off to another facility, making room for new patients.
We were a busy as we could be, until there was a multi-car pile up on I-64. All hell broke loose. There was a gasoline truck in the middle of a mass of twenty five cars. It was leaking gasoline on the highway and there were injured people trapped in the cars. We had to extricate people as quickly as possible and get them away from the tanker. Of course if the truck went, we'd be in the same situation as the injured people. We couldn't leave them there, so we worked fast.
I knew it was too dangerous. We should have stayed back and figured out how to stabilize the situation, but you can't really do that if your whole objective is to save people in trouble.
We were covering for the city Emergency Services and we had the Skinquarter Volunteer Fire Department from God-knows-where Virginia covering for the professional firemen in Richmond. We were all in well over our heads. Fortunately, no one had time to sit back and think. Joe and I were getting people out, and the Skinquarter people kept an eye on the gasoline. They flooded the pavement forcing the gas away from the cars. They forced it into a ditch on the side of the road. They dammed the ditch so the gasoline didn't get into the drains.
Everyone was good and 90 per cent of the victims were good too. Most people were trying to help. There were some nurses and a Doctor who drove by and helped out. There were some people in shock and a few hysterics. Oddly the ones in shock were a bigger problem. One guy was walking around in a daze. There was so much going on no one noticed him until he sat down and decided to light up a cigarette.
The air must have been 50% gasoline vapor. Fortunately the Skinquarter guys were on the ball. They doused the guy. I went over to him and discovered he had a big bump on the side of his head and a severe concussion. He didn't seem to know he had been hit by the full force of a fire hose.
We worked our way into the pile of cars. Joe and I were the strongest guys in the group and we were called when heavy lifting was needed. Tonya was also a powerhouse. She was smaller, but strong as a horse and she could get into spots I wouldn't fit. Joe was basically a male chauvinist pig before this event. He noticed Tonya and saw the light.
We thought we were done when they got a search and rescue dog. Rudolph was a Bloodhound and he didn't think we were done at all. The wind had picked up and the fumes weren't as bad as they had been. The dog knew there was someone in the wreckage, so we went in again. Tonya was light enough to go over the top of the cars with Rudolph. Wreckers arrived and began pulling cars out of the mass of twisted metal.
"I found him!" Tonya screamed. "He's alive!" She was at an 18-wheeler toward the front of the wreckage. "There's a car underneath!"
I went around to the front and looked under the cab. I could see a small red car squished under the trailer.
"Do you see it?" cried Tonya.
"Yes, where is the man?" In the front seat, he ducked."
"He's alive?"
"The dog says he is." Tonya replied. "Can you get in here?" I said, "Yes.", as I got on my stomach and wiggled under the truck. Tonya couldn't get in from above. I reached the car as Joe and Juan joined Tonya above. Theu had some heavy equipment. I didn't realize how heavy. There was a construction site nearby and two cranes arrived.
The scheme was to lift the truck straight up, so we could get to the car. The truck driver was unhurt and unhooked the Cab from the trailer. Fortunately, it was empty. My crew fed me cables from the cranes and I hooked them under the trailer. I got out when they did the actual lifting. The crane men were great; they knew exactly what they were doing.
It took three or four minutes to raise it and we rushed in to get the man. We had to peel off the hood. The driver was out cold, but alive. We were shocked to find a car seat in the rear with a one-year-old baby, sleeping and totally unaware of the situation.
It was a good day. We didn't know it, but the whole thing had been covered by Television helicopters. After the bombing in downtown, Richmond needed some good news. The father and his child were welcome good news. Tonya and Rudolph were media sensations. She was attractive, taut and toned. Rudolph was droopy and sad eyed. They were a couple made for television.
We went back to the station, but didn't have time to celebrate. There were four more calls that day, a stoke, a heart attack and two more traffic accidents. It was the day from Hell. Two days later the Commandant came by. He told us we had done well and we were to get the weekend off duty. No one wanted to leave. The Commandant was firm.
"You guys are still in an adrenaline rush. You are tired, even though you don't feel it. Tired men make mistakes. You are going to take the time off and you are going to enjoy yourselves, Damn it!"
Later that day, Wally, the organist friend I had met months before, called. He had found out where I was and asked me to come by his house for the weekend.
"Bring any friends you think would like it here." he said. "If they'd like the place, ask them over."
"I do have a few friends." I said.
"The more the merrier." Wally replied. "I was out of town in Europe for all the excitement. I will cook and fuck for the whole weekend! I'll do my part for you guys! It's been one hell of a week for us all."
Friday afternoon Joe, Ronald and I arrived at Wally's house. Mark had to go home to see his parents. Joe had been a bit worried about going to the organist's house, but the alternative was visiting his father and I told him not to do that. Wally immediately made everyone feel at home. We sat around the living room, overlooking the James River.
I though Joe would have a cow when Captain Richard returned home and Joe realize the Captain was Wally's special friend. At first he was shocked, but soon he was relieved. You don't get anymore macho than Captain Richards and Joe liked that. He felt he was in good company.
Captain Richards seemed to like Joe too. Richards served drinks and we all exchanged stories of the last week. The doorbell rang. Wally answered it and brought two men I didn't know into the room.
"I'd like you to meet Jean Moulin, and Hans van de Velde. They're art Historians Conservators here for a conference. It was cancelled because of the bombing, but they have been helping stabilize the Temple." Wally said. We greeted the men. After introductions, we talked and they turned out to be interesting men. They had worked with bombed buildings in Bosnia and Kosovo and had a lot of experience with damaged structures.
I went to help Wally in the kitchen as he prepared dinner. Jean followed us and offered to help too. I had never met a Frenchman before and Jean was not at all what I would have guessed he was. He was about 40, bald and had a close-cropped beard. Jean was tall and thin. He was very down to earth and seemed like a regular guy.
I'm not the most sensitive guy in the world, but I was getting the impression Jean was interested in me. Every time I glanced at him, he was looking at me. I was kind of flattered. I'm not sure anyone had ever lusted after me before. Our eyes met a few times and he knew I was interested too.
Dinner was good. I sat next to Jean and Joe was next to Richards. It turned out the two Europeans were doing the same thing to buildings we did with people. We used some of the techniques and had the same objectives.
Jean and Hans were in the middle of the bombsite, trying to save the dome of the Temple and stabilize the damaged buildings nearby. They were in the heart of the disaster and they saw it all. They were professionals and gave the sort of information we were interested in. They also had seen the television reports of the pileup and were interested in our experiences.
We talked until 11:00 and then went to bed. Somehow I got to share a room with Jean. I didn't get to sleep much, but it was relaxing, especially after I shot off the second or third time. The cliched view of French men is they are sex maniacs. That was Jean. He was like the energizer bunny; he never stopped.
He also liked me a lot and I'm not talking about my mind. I turned him on and he wanted me. When we got into the bedroom, I went to shower and Jean joined me. He had a runner's body and was a otter, covered in dark hair. His cock was long, thin and uncut. I wasn't as interested in him as he was in me, until the sex started. I immediately realized we were perfectly compatible. His cock was made for my mouth. He loved mine.
I was taller than Jean and I must have been twice as heavy. My cock was thick, but Jean had no problem deep throating it. He had a good ten incher hard, but since it was thin, I could easily deep throat him and breathe too.
Jean must have been a mind reader. He seemed to sense what I wanted and somehow he had a natural sense of what felt good to me. He was very happy sucking my cock. When I shot off, he took all my cum, but kept on sucking. I relaxed and lost my erection, but he didn't mind. He came too, but he was so deep down my throat I didn't need to swallow, I was being fed intravenously by his cock. Eventually, he stopped sucking and I found my cock deep in his ass.
He wasn't a big guy, but he had no problem at all taking my cock. It's nice to be appreciated and I got more excited as the night wore on. Jean was such a nice guy and so accommodating it just got better and better. His ass opened and let my cock slide in without resistance. His ass was tight, but soft. By this time my cock was so sensitive, every movement and touch was pleasurable.
I fell asleep and woke up with a warm and pleasurable feeling in my ass. It was Jean's cock. His cock was deep in my ass but, he didn't really fuck me. He was caressing my prostate with his cock. Jean's cock must have been made for my ass. Jean rubbed my prostate until I had a hands free climax. I fell asleep again.
I woke at 10:30 in the morning. I hadn't slept that late in years. I wandered downstairs and found everyone had slept late too. I didn't know who had spent the night with whom. Joe seemed to be really friendly with the Captain. Van de Velde and Ron seemed to have hit it off too. We all were a congenial group. Wally suggested we go to the pool and relax in the sun. That hit the spot with everyone. Wally had brought pastries and juice down to the pool. We ate leisurely and then played in the water.
None of us had spent much time in the sun and Wally had a supply of sunscreen lotions. Wally and the Captain had a good time rubbing the lotion into our bodies. We were wearing shorts and tee shirts when we got to the pool. By the time Wally finished we were all naked.
I could tell Joe was uncomfortable at first, but after ten minutes everyone was at ease, including Joe. You could hear the river flowing by the pool, but it was unbelievably restful and calm after all the excitement of the last week. I was talking with Hans and Ronald and the Captain and Joe were in a really close conversation with Jean. Wally was playing the prefect host.
You would expect a guy named Hans to be a Nordic type, but Van de Velde was a solid man with black hair. His skin was white like marble and he was almost hairless except for his thick busy beard and an incredibly thick pubic bush. He had a thick, stubby cock, uncut. Only the enshrouded cock head showed. Ronald seemed to like Hans' cock a lot and casually played with it as we chatted. I got hard watching them.
Wally came over to deliver a plate of sandwiches and freshen up our drinks. He was hard too. When the Captain, Jean and Joe joined us, they were in the same erect state.
"Shit, I feel like a dwarf in the land of the giants." Joe said as he looked over the array of hard cocks."
"To quote a great sage, I think it may have been the renowned American Philosopher, Mae West, it's not how big it gets, but how you make it big!" Wally said. "Somehow, I seem to remember enjoying your cock last night. No problem with size at all."
"Well it looks like this would be a rough crowed to be a bottom in. You guys would split me in half." Joe said.
"You're a bottom?" the Captain asked. Joe blushed.
"No, I've never done it."
"You've topped?" Wally asked. Joe turned beet red.
"Never done that either." he said. "A guy tried to fuck me once and it hurt so bad, I never came close to doing it. It doesn't seem right to fuck a guy, if you don't want to get fucked yourself."
"Let me assure you, there are lots of guys who wouldn't mind your cock making whoopee with their prostate and wouldn't care if you bottomed." Wally opined. "Lots of guys like to get fucked, but don't want a national monument shoved up their ass."
"Let me assure you, if you want to try a cock, I'm the man for you." Jean said. "I have the prefect cock for the novice. It's thin and long, but you will hardy know it's in your ass until it hits your prostate and you are on the way to the moon!"
"I can vouch for that!" I said. "Jean actually fucked me in my sleep and I didn't wake until he was in deep."
"And it was good?" Jean asked.
"It sure was good!" I said. Wally stroked Joe's cock. It was so hard; it looked as if it hurt.
"Damn, I love that in my ass." Wally said. "Here and now!" Joe was naturally a bit shy, but he was so hard and horny, he couldn't pretend he was unwilling.
"Don't we need some lube?" Joe asked. Wally smiled.
"You may think I'm a vulgar person, but somehow I ended up lubricating my ass just in case opportunity knocked. With that comment, Wally got on his hands and knees and spread his ass wide open. Joe's rock hard cock vanished into Wally's love tunnel in a single movement. Wally gasped, then moaned. Joe had hit the bull's eye.