GO TY By Mike Austin
nasstop@yahoo.com
DEAR NIFTY READER;
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SETUP: Kirk Allen is a retired Federal Agent, as was his murdered boyfriend. Kirk reflected on Ty's lean muscular torso, his fine set of sculpted glutes, ample cock and low hanging furry balls.....and the multiple orgasms, for which he was renowned!!!
I.
It had been a long Thursday. Kirk rolled over in bed, then sat up abruptly. Was he dreaming or was someone in the house? From beneath the side pillow he withdrew his .38 and pivoted to a crouching position beside the bed. Sweat slid down his furry chest and back, just like Summer days as a teen in his grandparents' un-air conditioned New Orleans- Garden District home. There was another board creak and Kirk tensed even more, crouched lower and watched the gap beneath his bedroom door out into the hallway where the four inline sconces cast soft light pools from his bedroom to the one at the opposite end of the 2nd floor landing. The bedrooms shared a common bath between them. The common bath was accessed from doors in each bedroom. With his bedroom to bath door open, Kirk flashed to the bathroom mirror and reflected window, that while high, was never able to lock. The sound from the 3rd stair tread confirmed there was someone in his house. Kirk flattened beside the bed, ensured a clear line of sight at the bedroom door and any intruder. His .38 gripped in one hand, the other steadied it, safety off, finger poised against the trigger, waiting. Kirk visualized the 2nd floor stair landing and imagined an intruder standing, trying to determine the bedroom of choice for their next move. Click, the sconces went dark. Kirk's eyes focused and planned his rolling move in response to the intruder's next action...................
At 59, he'd passed The Agency's 57 y/o retirement mandate, but based on his skills, he'd been reactivated as a "consultant". His background as a forensic financial agent, with a Masters in International Finance, coupled with his eight years in military covert ops, made him a valuable "asset". Kirk had black hair, was 6' tall, deep blue eyes, a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow, semi-furry chest, ongoing workout torso, a skilled marksman with an ever urgent need to breed his 9" vascular cock, was based outside of D.C. where the Agency's HQ and data center shared facilities. It was in this small, unassuming two-story frame bungalow on Water Street, that he now found himself preparing to confront an intruder. He glanced at the laptop's power on button still glowing green, then caught the clear sound of a hand gripping the door knob, then the twist and slow opening of the bedroom door. In the dark, but with a slight distant streetlight glow coming through the front windows, Kirk saw the intruder's form, and outline of night-vision goggles. This was no friendly visit. Kirk directed his voice in another angle and as the intruder spun to that assumed source, Kirk announced "Federal Agent drop your weapon" and in that instant of recognition, the intruder sprayed rapid fire toward the bed and intended victim. Kirk's aim was spot on however, pulling off just 2 shots at the intruder's neck, both ripping into the left carotid region followed by the assassin's collapse and bleed out. Kirk grabbed his cell, called 911 for an ambulance and police, stood, flipped on all lights and saw the man, dressed in black, the night-vision goggles still obscuring his face. Kirk's heart was pounding. He dialed his Ops Center to report the incident. The agent at the other end of the call advised a dispatch team would be en route.
Kirk remained silent, alert; waited for the police cruiser's arrival and in the distance, heard the ambulance siren approaching as well. Pound, pound pound, the police banged at Kirk's front door. Reaching for his boxers, he tugged them on and sped barefooted downstairs to allow the police entry. The ambulance pulled up just as did a black Surburban and two agents emerged, approached the police, showed credentials, announced their assumption of the crime scene and allowed the ambulance team entry for access to the victim upstairs. They began their inquiry of Kirk as the police stood outside on the front porch. Another squad car arrived in the back alley and the two officers took up position in the back yard. Kirk and pair of peer agents, stood at the back door, found the small round glass-cutout on the rear door and "zapped" security keypad on the wall that disabled the alarm system, allowing the intruder access to the house. It was only then that Kirk surrendered his .38 to one of the agents, who bagged the firearm for evidence. Returning to the front door and central hallway, the ambulance team met the trio, shook their heads as to the victim's status. One was on the phone calling the ME's office, busy giving address and general scene to the coroner's office. The black mid-30s ambulance attendant holding the cell phone in mid-air announced to the group, "be about 30 minutes before they arrive" then he and his co-worker finished their report and made way to the ambulance. Kirk excused himself from the agents and walked urgently to the ambulance team, shook their hands, thanked them and left his personal card in the palm of the black team member, before returning inside to his peers. Kirk stood alert but comfortable in his boxers, as he completed his report of the incident to the other agents, Baker and Cox. The police remained in front and back as another black Surburban arrived; 4 more agents and now a black van that was the agency's crime scene team. The four policemen left the scene as the ME's office arrived, after handing off their report to the coroner's lead team member. One of the newly arrived Agency staffers announced her name as Agent Scott, the team lead and began directing some sequence of events, then led Kirk to the living room where she again asked him to repeat the events for her own notes.
It was early Friday morning as they sat quietly in the black Wassily chairs recapping the events at the crime scene and other agents were busy combing through Kirk's home, taking measurements, flashing pictures and making remarks into recorders. Soon the coroner's office was finished at the scene, had bagged the body and was ready to remove it when Agent Scott intervened and directed her crime scene team to remove the body to the agency's own morgue. Her control overrode the coroner's and after a few signed documents and scribbles on "tablets", the coroner's team withdrew. Scott unzipped the body bag, revealed the victim to Kirk who shook his head no, as an unknown assailant. The scene did seem to intensify as agent reports were flooding into Scott and Kirk, who were now re-seated in the living room. Kirk had no reluctance about remaining in his boxers alone as he sat with Agent Scott discussing any activities or material that might have been compromised or may have led to this incident. "What might have caused you to be the intended victim, Agent Allen" posed Agent Scott? Kirk replied, "I think this is a discussion for secure quarters Agent Scott and if you'll excuse me, I'll dress and we can head into "The Hub"", agent-speak for HQ and the Data Center. Kirk climbed the stairs, tugged on jeans, a pull-over, slip-ons, and grabbed his Beretta and sling before slipping on his jacket, then grabbed his laptop before heading back downstairs. His agency badge hung from the jacket's lapel as he slung the laptop carrying case over his shoulder, walked out to his garage and sensor-scanned the slick black Explorer for any add-on devices that might explode at the turn of an ignition switch. Finding none, he gave a thumbs up to Agent Scott and as he backed from his garage, saw another agency van arriving to further protect the scene and his home. The pair of Suburbans, the crime scene van and body bag and Kirk's Explorer made their way the 2.6 mile drive to "The Hub", paused at the side gate for clearance and all four vehicles pulled through to the agent entrance. Chief Agent McIntyre greeted Kirk and Agent Scott to begin his own debriefing. They left for a secure conference room, began by reviewing the recap, the pictures, the findings and then McIntyre pressed for details about Kirk's current assignment; which of course was a ruse, as Kirk knew full-well that McIntyre had already been advised of Kirk's current investigation/assignment.
Chief Agent Jim McIntyre was 38, just 6', about 190#s, ruddy complexion and close cropped auburn hair, showed no crotch bulge but Kirk noticed a nice firmly muscled set of glutes and piercing ice blue eyes. He was the son of a 3-star general (ret), Georgetown educated with double majors in law and chemistry and a minor in criminal justice. He was fit, showing well-built biceps and pecs this evening in his golf shirt and blazer, as he urged Kirk into the secure conference room and dismissed Agent Scott from further participation in the discussion. She made her exit with disdain for the pair. The senior agent and restored consultant made some small talk as they each prepped coffees, just as the lab tech entered the room to draw blood, hair samples, wait for Kirk's urine sample, etc for testing, before leaving the two men to continue their recap of the late night event. McIntyre stood, paced some then resumed sitting opposite Kirk as each posed and explained the sequence of events, four times by the end of the debriefing. The fact that Kirk's last duty assignment was completed and his report filed, was not mentioned; though Kirk found that odd, he held off raising the issue. McIntyre announced that a special team was assigned to Kirk's residence and his security system was being restored as well as being "enhanced", he motioned in mid-air quotes; then dismissed Kirk for the evening.
On the short drive home, Kirk wondered about several reasons for the attack. He recalled that night three years before, when an Agent Martin called to report that his "friend" and peer agent Ty Thomas was found in an alley in New Orleans, strangled and robbed. Why had his thoughts rushed back to that night? What emptiness that he felt then, was nagging him again tonight? As he pulled into the alley and drove slowly to the approach pad outside his garage, he hit the garage door button and it raised almost silently. An array of lights illuminated the sides and interior of the structure which sat apart from the main house, separated by a small rear lawn, a covered patio that led to a short set of steps and the back porch. The 4 on-site agents went on alert, then greeted Kirk, shared their radio code frequencies, before Kirk poured a small snifter of brandy and sat quietly in one of the same Wassily chairs, Agent Scott and he had shared earlier. It was not quite Fall, but there was already a tension in the air that was crisp yet still a bit humid. It was too cool for the a/c but too warm for heat or a fireplace. As he sat sipping, then gulped down the remaining brandy, his thoughts flew to Ty and their last night together before he'd left for New Orleans to visit his sister and brother-in-law and celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary. The intensity of their passion kept them up and at rampant sex all night long; Ty claiming he'd grab a nap on the plane as a recovery and Kirk, having already planned work-at-home time. That too was a Thursday and by Monday night, Agent Martin was reporting the death of his "friend". Kirk stood, leaving the brandy snifter on the travertine cube between the Wassilys, said his good nights to the assigned agents and made his way upstairs, past the tell-tale stair squeaks, into his room that had now been Cloroxed and bed linens removed and replaced; where he stripped quickly, still flooding his mind with questions. It would only be another hour or so before the hint of sunrise would filter light into his room and sleep would be an elusive bed fellow. He instinctively felt for the .38 beneath the pillow and its absence made him uneasy. It was as he lie there slowly stroking his ample cock, that he remembered to check voicemail. Lifting the portable phone, he entered his password and retrieved two messages. "Agent Allen, I know about Ty's murder and need to meet you in New Orleans. I'll be back with more details" and the male voice ended, leaving Kirk sitting stunned on the edge of the bed. The next call was from the black EMT from earlier in the evening, "Mr. Allen, this is Ben Palmer whom you gave your card when we were at your home this evening. I'd like to meet for drinks if you're interested?" He left Kirk a cell number for future use. Kirk stretched out again, resumed his J/O session, which now took on new intensity, forged by the adrenaline rush of the night, until he shot cumloads across his abs, left arm and upper torso, then drifted into sleep.