Guiding Light (happy 50th anniversary GL!) belongs to Procter & Gamble and CBS. I'm making no money; my only pleasure is from feedback. Don't archive or pass this around without asking me first. Don't read if you aren't over 18, or the age of majority in your area.
I know I'm playing fast and loose with the timelines here, but the stories seem to be made up as they go along anyway, so forgive me.
Please give me any and all comments you have on the story. I don't care what it is, I just want to hear from you.
**
Detective Frank Cooper fidgeted with his tie for the tenth time that day. Springfield PD was an infuriating mix of mundane and insane. Frank only took this job to help support his family...a family he no longer had. His sweet daughter, Marina, had grown into a rebellious teen who spent more time breaking the law than breaking curfew. His beautiful, vivacious Greek wife, Eleni, had left him for another man, returned recently in a platonic stalemate, and then left again.
Frank was a real lady killer in the eighties. Chop shop worker and auto mechanic by day, his big, fat, Greek-American dick burst out of his tight jeans to entertain several of Springfield's sluttier women. Then he met Eleni, and became a better man. Even after she'd split, he restrained himself, only briefly dating a bimbo waitress who turned out to be, in true Springfield style, an FBI agent. She was a tease with any man not named Santos, so Frank had never gotten past holding her hand. That meant he'd maintained his high moral standards of celibacy for 3 years now. Shit, if no sex meant purity, Frank deserved sainthood. St. Francis of the Blue Balls.
Frank lost his train of thought as his pencil rolled off the desk. While picking it up, he noticed that the Santos punk was watching him, again, with those wild eyes. When Tony wasn't holding his head in his hands or pacing, he consistently kept his gaze directed at either Frank or Gus Aitoro. With Frank, there was hate, pride, cockiness at the system not defeating him yet, and there were similiar looks at Gus, but also a more intense stare which seemed to suggest a common bond, or lust, or...
"Hey Frank, I gotta do some interrogation with our mafioso here. They're all booked up, so I'm gonna move a few mops around and rent that space. OK?"
Frank hid behind a slightly queasy poker face when he heard Aitoro's voice breezing next to his ear. Distractedly nodding, he tried not to notice the pungent cologne assaulting his nostrils, or the tight buttocks and swinging shaft inches away from his face. Gus had done this before, swaggering, teasing. Frank loathed him but could never tear his eyes away fast enough. A part of him envied Gus for being gutsy enough to go commando. A growing part of him wanted to exactly what was inside Aitoro's snug jeans.
Smirking as he felt Dickhead Tracy sizing him up yet again, Gus opened the cell door and led Tony by the arm to an empty storage room.
"You couldn't get Danny, so ya settled for me! Keep dreamin', you greasy pig!"
"Yeah, yeah, save it for your execution Santos."
The back and forth bickering continued until they arrived in the private room. Tony dropped his guard, or was about to, when Gus shushed him. Tony let himself grin as Gus ambled about the room, kicking boxes and pushing buckets.
"I should hire you for Infierno. Our cleaning lady stinks."
Gus rolled his eyes as he scanned the pipes along the walls and ceiling.
"Uh-huh. Never heard of loose lips, listening devices, huh? Think, for once in your life. I'm tryin' to save that life, y'know."
Deciding the space was bug-free, Gus turned to face Tony, who had let his shit-eating grin return. Truthfully, Tony had eaten a whole lot more than shit in the past few weeks, and as they'd gotten to know each other not-so-Biblically, Gus had realized Tony really had been framed, that he hadn't killed Catalina.
The soft trail of fingers down across his smooth cheek made Gus purr. In return, Gus rubbed Tony's face, scratching the stubble, arching his head back as Tony massaged his neck.
"Looks like ya stole my five-o-clock-shadow."
Forcefully, Tony tugged Gus to him, their groins meeting and tenting from their pants, their hands surveying rugged, manly bodies, their mouths battling for dominance, Tony finally pulling their tongues apart with a loud smacking sound.
"Y-Y-You gotta let me escape. I have to clear my name. We'll do it tomorrow. Just say I overpowered you."
Panting, Gus shook his head.
"That's crazy. They'd never buy it. They think I'd shoot to kill."
Desperate, Tony pushed his hands inside Gus's shirt and used his most effective weapon.
"Oh no, not the puppy dog eyes! I won't...unnnghhh...."
Gus's well-chosen words were garbled by the rough nails pinching and scratching his sensitive nipples.
"You like that, huh?"
Continuing to soulfully stare-plead at Gus, Tony pulled Gus to him, tearing open their flies, pushing his tongue into the warm ear canal nearest him.
"Straddle me."
Gus did as he was asked, grunting at the fingers up his ass and on his dick, at the wet sloppiness in his ear and along his temple and forehead.
Frank was walking by the storage room on the way to the men's room, just happening to hear the wrong words at the right time. They were only whispers, but he could make them out if he listened intently enough.
"Yeah Tony...harder, harder...shove it in me...ohhhhh yeah yeah yeah gimme that big donkey dick..."
"Do this for me, Aitoro. Please. Do this for me. Please. Please."
"Alright...just fuck my ass, plow me, make me your bitch...I'll do whatever you want if I get that cock..."
Frank pressed his ear to the door, his penis pressed against the fabric of his slacks. The moans, the swallowed screams, the light whimpers. Frank pictured Gus bent over a chair, Tony sliding his horse cock out, Gus taking in a deep breath at the release, then gasping as Tony slammed his babymaker in as far as nature would allow. Sweat from Tony's glistening brow dripping into his eyes and mouth, Tony licking the moisture away as he confidently rammed his cop lover, his heavy sac brushing against the cool metal chair, Gus biting his lip and masturbating himself, sliding his prick against the chair, Tony pushing Gus back to impale him on the monster shaft, ripping hairs from Gus's head as he pulled him backwards for a probing, rough man-to-man kiss.
So caught up in his own fantasy, Frank did not notice his hand gripping his clothed erection, angrily stroking, humping himself against the door as he jerked off. All he saw was two strong men joined together, pleasuring each other, mutual cries as their board-breaking dicks bloated to full strength, bursting with life, exploding in the musty, dank recesses of the steamy den of sodomy...
Frank felt like he was out of his own body, because he could see this man, this husband and father, opening his mouth for a silent cry of ecstasy, staining his beige dress pants with gallons of sticky seed at the sound of a known felon and his sister's boyfriend fucking each other only a closed door away. Frank felt ashamed, confused, and very, very horny. *********** Romeo slammed the receiver down. Still no answer from Edmund's cell phone. He had grown so close to Edmund sexually, but not emotionally, at least not yet. He worried Edmund would spill his secrets, and worried who he'd tell them to. Romeo took the old "keep your friends close..." adage very seriously. He knew that the closest place to keep an enemy was up your ass.
Romeo was going to dial again when Danny's voice boomed from his office.
"Romeo, now!"
Cursing under his whiskey-laden breath, Romeo strolled into the wood-panelled room. Ready with a sarcastic quip, the words froze in the air, his jaw decorating the floor.
The tape, the sex tape of Romeo fondling Danny's private parts, playing on a VCR.
Live and in person, Danny Santos standing behind the desk, totally naked, stroking himself.
Danny only let himself give a small, brief, cruel smile to enhance his cold, slit eyes.
"We have some things to discuss, don't we Romeo?"