Sven Brovskan was THAT good looking. He was of that Nordic heritage of the blonde haired, blue eye "god" category. 6'4", 220 pounds of muscle, smooth body that looked like he spent hours in the gym each day.
Well, Sven did.
His 8-pack abs rippled down into his crotch which housed an 8.5-inch cut fuck stick.
Sven was from Kansas, now living in my state, and working as a policeman. He was also a former Marine.
I'd eventually learn he was in his 40s, but other insisted he was in his mid-30s at the oldest. He'd called me Saturday morning, way too early, after I'd used a college football player the night before. The de-jock strapped, hairy, beefy, burly boy was curled up on the end of my bed when Sven called.
I told him I wasn't interested.
He didn't believe me.
I hung up on him.
I don't do many things. Two of them are egos and idiots. Sven was both.
That's the only explanation why a straight man who could beat the shit out of me would show up on my front porch 45 minutes after I'd hung up on him. Straight men like Sven like to have their egos fed, even if it's from a gay man. He'd fished for a compliment from me on the phone.
I just wasn't interested.
Yes, he was good looking, built, buff and all that shit.
But he was straight and I'm not into smooth men, blondes or anything else that Sven oozed. Don't get me wrong; I'll fuck men like Sven, but I don't seek them out.
And now he was on my front porch.
"Officer Sven, I presume?"
Now, Sven couldn't be that impressed as a straight man.
I'm an "average Joe" type. Mid 30s, 5'9", carbo gut, pale skin, just an average guy that likes to dominate men who like to be used.
Sven's face confirmed my thoughts.
"Yer not much," he snickered.
"What do you want, Officer Sven?" I sighed. I was a little pissed. I hadn't had my morning sex yet. Some people like morning coffee. I like ass.
"Know how I pegged you as a fag, even though you were in a truck?" he asked, but I could tell by his tone that he was going to answer the question regardless of my answer.
So I closed the door.
He pounded on it and screamed, "Open the door, man! I wanna talk to you!"
Hm, he didn't yell "fag". Obviously doesn't want the neighbors to hear something like that.
I opened the door and held up my hand.
"Come in, shut up and listen," I said, pointing to a chair near the door.
He obeyed.
"I'm not interested in you. Obviously there's something you want from me, but you're not man enough to ask. So, here's the deal. Tell me what you want. I'll answer, then you can leave me the fuck alone. Understand, Officer Sven?"
"Dammit," he said. "I just want to know... I think it's that... Shit, I don't know."
I groaned.
He's a policeman with no vocabulary for talking about sex. And from the white trash he takes home to pound, I'm sure he's never had to develop it.
I really didn't think Sven was that interested in having gay sex, but he was obviously interested in something about gay sex.
"You ever suck cock, Officer?"
"Could you please stop calling me `officer', man?"
"No. Answer the question, Officer."
"Listen, I didn't come here to be grilled by some fag about my sex life."
I smacked Officer Sven squarely across the face, hard. Hard enough he'd feel it.
I started speaking before he could react.
"Call me a `fag" again and I'll pick up the phone and have you arrested. Now answer the question, or get the fuck out of my house."
"I'm not a cock sucker."
"That wasn't the question. I didn't ask if you were a cocksucker. But next question, ever fuck a woman's shit hole?"
Straight men hate blunt questions like this. Makes them feel uncomfortable. Hell, even many gay men are uncomfortable. But I wasn't wasting a weekend working a straight man through whatever the hell he was here for.
"Yer sick, man. That's disgusting." He looked truly disgusted.
"Then why are you here, Officer Sven? I'm tired of asking. Answer the question or get out."
He stood up, towering over me.
"I don't know how to say it." He hung his head.
"You don't know how to say it, what, boy?" I said.
"I don't know how to say why I'm here."
"You didn't understand the question, boy." He face screwed up a second time as he was called "boy". "I'm a `master'. If yer coming into my house and wanting something and don't know what it is, you are going to have to address me with respect for if you will but be willing to learn, perhaps, and only perhaps, can I answer your unspeakable questions.
"Do you understand, boy?"
"I guess."
"Don't guess. Know. Do you understand, boy?"
"Do you have to call me `boy'?"
"Would you prefer `officer in training', boy?"
"No."
"No, what, boy?"
"No, ... sir."
"Good boy," I said, patting his head.
"Get yer hand off me," he growled.
I smacked his face again.
"My house, my rules. Learn or leave. And learn to deal with being ignorant."
I could see him mulling it over.
"I'll learn, but I'm not sucking yer cock."
"Don't want you to, boy," I sighed. "Follow me."
I lead him into the bedroom where the college boy was still purring at the end of the bed.
"Shit, I didn't know you had company."
I raised my hand.
"Fail to address me properly one more time..."
"Sir," he added.
"I'm going to take a stab at why you're here. If I'm wrong, tell me so and I'll try another idea or 2 I have, but when a straight like you shows up at the door, it's usually to find out why we like men over women. You're just curious enough to ask, right boy?"
"I guess, sir."
"You've stuck yer cock in lots of pussy, I'm sure. You probably have no belt or headboard left, you've notched them so much. But what do you have? A bunch of fucked women and nothing else.
"So you're thinking, `Is there something more with men?'. It's an interesting question, but I can't answer that one for you.
"Am I right so far, boy?"
"Yes, sir. Then what?"
"Ask a question like that again with that tone, boy, and you'll regret it. You need to learn to respect those that know things you don't. Ignorance isn't bliss. Understand, boy?"
"Yes, sir." He was gritting his teeth.
He didn't like 2 things: one, he didn't like that I wasn't physically attracted to him, and two, he didn't like that he was interested in something that he couldn't verbalize because either he couldn't put the words together himself, or he couldn't admit it to himself.
"So you like the feel of a pussy wrapped around yer dick. Like it tight and warm, boy?"
"Yeah, man," he slipped into bragging bar mode. "I love when a chick rides yer dick and moans and begs for more."
He looked at my eyes. "Sir."
"Ever do one up the ass, boy?"
"That's gross, man. I mean, sir."
"That wasn't the question, Officer Sven. No offense, but you're not focusing on why you're here. Most of the time, a guy like you needs to be brought along slowly, but you're wasting my time, so I'm going to put it this way.
"You're here because you're interested in sex with a man. Either sucking dick or being sucked, fucking ass or being fucked, or duplicating sex with men that you've done with women. Why you're interested is beyond me, but that's the situation.
"That it, boy?"
"I don't need this shit," he said, and turned to leave.
"Please do leave, Officer. When you're man enough to deal with this, let me know."
I followed him out into the living room and he was 5 feet from the door when he turned around.
"What is your deal, man! Why are you being such an asshole?" His finger wagged in front of my face.
"Let me get this right. You've called me a `fag', disturbed my Saturday morning, come into my home, and have no idea why you're here. Am I the asshole, or are you?"
"Dammit!" he screamed, obviously frustrated.
"Screw this newby shit. I don't have all day," I said, grabbing Officer Sven's shirt.
I pulled him down to my face, and bore my eyes into his.
"Strip. Just do it and then come to the bedroom."
I let go of the shirt and headed to the bedroom. There was no way Marcus would have slept through that and Marcus would be needed to show Officer Sven what he didn't know he needed.
I talked with Marcus a while, had him get back into a "sleeping" position, then waited.
Officer Sven wasn't wearing enough clothes to justify the wait, but I hadn't heard the front door open and close either.
Sven had obviously been a Marine officer. He was standing in my living room, probably naked, but not doing anything else.
He was over-thinking the situation which I surmised was the reason he couldn't articulate his needs, or desires.
He was using military tactic for sex.
"Officer, come in the bedroom."
I heard the padding of naked feet on my hardwood floors.
He appeared in the doorway, naked, standing tall and proud.
Then I saw the real reason for his wait.
He'd sprouted a hard on and probably wanted it to go down before coming to the room.
The stiff prick was 8.5 inches of hard man flesh, wanting something that its owner didn't want to realize.
A tear trickled down his left cheek.
"I don't know what I want, sir. Help me," he begged, falling to his knees.
"Get up, boy. I don't do pity sex."
As he stood, he protested, "I don't pity you..."
"No, pity sex can also be me fucking you out of pity for your situation. I don't do any kind of pity sex."
I moved to reveal Marcus again, who lay obediently still.
"This is Marcus, last night's college football fuck. Come over and spread his hairy ass cheeks, Officer," I commanded.
Sven stepped forward and very tentatively touched Marcus' hairy, taut butt cheeks.
"Is that how you touch women?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"No, sir, but that's a guy's ass," Sven said, but adjusted his grip anyway.
"Spread those cheeks. Look at his hole," I instructed.
Sven spread the defensive ends undefended end, revealing the athlete's pucker, but not noticing and probably not knowing what the dregs of dried cum were. The rosy hole sang to Sven and his already hard prick popped harder and I saw precum start to drool from his policeman penis.
"You like, boy?"
"Yes, sir." He paused, unsure of what he was to do.
"You eat pussy, boy?" I asked again, knowing the answer.
"Yes, sir!" He almost sounded like an enthusiastic military man again.
"Eat it. I cleaned it out for my pleasure last night," I purred in Sven's ear. "He likes to have his ass eaten."
Sven leaned down, but I grabbed his neck. It took both hands. He had a thick, very muscled neck.
"That'll throw yer back out, boy. Get on yer knees."
As he did, he got a glance of himself in the mirrors in my bedroom, especially the large one covering a lot of wall.
His glance turned into a stare as he realized he was naked, hard, looking at himself preparing to eat a college man's ass, an ass attached to another naked man on my bed, while a man fully clothed was watching. That clothed man would be me.
"Eat, boy. None of us has all day."
"Yes, sir."
Delay was in his eyes as he stuck out his tongue, then slowly moved his head toward the hole.
I pushed the back of his head into Marcus' hole. I really didn't have all day, especially for a straight fuck, both literally and figuratively.
He slowly started lapping at the hole, then with liking.
"Eat my shitter, cop man," Marcus howled. "Eat that ass!"
I was really enjoying this, much more than I should. Officer Sven was eating a man's shithole, filled and coated with my cum.
After a couple of minutes, Marcus was using part of my vocabulary from last night, calling Sven a "shit eater", "butt muncher" and "ass pirate".
Sven wasn't even blinking. He was slurping and sucking on Marcus' hot hole, trying to pry the hairy butt cheeks farther apart to get more access.
Marcus rolled from his side to his back, hiking his own legs in the air but Marcus had more control than I'd credit most college men for having. Marcus' cock was limp, as I'd instructed.
It leaned over his nuts and rested on Sven's forehead, leaking a clear coat of precum.
Sven nudged Marcus' hairy nuts out of the way to get Marcus' hole.
A thought entered my head. I wondered if Sven had eaten cummed pussy. I wondered how many straight men had eaten a stranger's cum from a whore hole.
I chuckled, silently, at the thought. Sven had taken to eating ass like a dominatrix to leather.
Sven's forehead was shiny from the precum when I finally pulled his face from Marcus' hot ass.
"Pace yerself, boy," I beckoned. "Slip a finger in there."
Marcus had control, but when Sven jabbed his middle, right finger up Marcus' ass, the college man's dick went hard.
The tightness of the campus man's sphincter combined with the rigid pole mesmerized Sven.
"That's tighter than pussy," Sven stammered.
"Yes, it is, boy. Doggie, show him more." Marcus tightened that hole even more, and Sven tried pulling his finger free, eventually doing so, but not quickly.
"Want to suck his cock, boy?"
That question turned out to be a mistake.
"I'm no cocksucker," Sven said, forgetting the sir, and totally taking his hands off Marcus.
"Fuck, I'm not fag. I ate his pussy, and I'd fuck it `cause a hole's a hole, but I'm no queer."
"You're stuck on labels, Officer Sven," I said. I have bad news for men who think a hole is a hole. A man's ass is a MAN'S ass. If yer eating a man's shitter, yer into men. Period. Get over it.
"Where the fuck are my clothes, faggot?" he demanded. "Fuck, where ARE my clothes. I'm fuckin' naked!"
I wasn't surprised. He was coming off a curiosity/man-sex high, but he didn't know it was too late.
He was in the living room nearly dressed when I bothered to come out.
"You're a nasty man," he sneered, rushing to get dressed.
"You forgot the `sir', boy," I sneered back.
He got right in my face, leaning down into me. I'm sure on other men, they would have leaned back, but not I.
We butted heads, and he held ground, as did I.
Before he could speak, I said, "Notice how I'm still not interested?"
Then I licked his face.
I grabbed his crotch.
"For a straight man, yer awfully damn hard, Officer Sven," I teased.
"Fuck you," he whined, and grabbed me throat.
"Doing this to keep yerself hard? This what you do when yer women aren't any good?" I'll admit his grip was giving me breathing problems, but I wasn't the man in the house with sex issues.
He should buy looser pants.
He was still trying to get his fly up after he let me go and steadily headed for the door.
"When you're ready for more man shitters, let me know," I hollered after him, just as I heard the front door open.
It closed without further comment.
"Sorry that didn't work out, sir," Marcus said, walking out of the bedroom, clothed.
"It worked out fine, doggie," I said. "As I told you before he got in there, the cameras behind the mirrors were working.
"He'll be back, whether he wants to or not."
"Can I get a copy of the tape?" the college football player asked, licking the back of my neck.
"Sure, doggie," I said, reaching behind me and feeling his neck. The collar was still there. The nameplate was blank as it should be.
"You sure you want to be my dog, Marcus?" I asked, using a serious tone. Agreeing to be a man's dog was not a commitment to make lightly.
"Yes, sir," he said, kneeling, then bowing his head.
"Okay. Take the collar, and have your name engraved on it," I ordered. "Come back tonight and before you leave this morning, I'll give you a copy of the contract to look over. We'll discuss final details about what this all means when you come back tonight."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," he said, still kneeling.
I put my hand under his chin, and lifted so his eyes could meet mine. "Be sure this is what you want to do, Marcus. Stand."
"So when will the officer be back?" he asked, obviously curious.
"If not tomorrow, on his own, then next weekend, at my bidding," I said. "I take it you liked what you saw?"
"Who wouldn't?" he said. He realized how it sounded, not that I cared. "But you're much better, sir."
"Don't stroke my ego, Marcus. He has a bigger dick, better body and nicer face, but he's a fuck in every sense of the word. Men and women may drool over him, but he has no idea what he's doing when it comes to sex," I said, flatly. "Don't respond to any of that. Just listen and learn."
"Yes, sir." After a pause, he asked, "Do you think Sven will come back of his own accord?"
"No, but it doesn't matter," I stated. "His curiosity will get the better of him; I just don't know that it will be by tomorrow."
"What if he shows up during the week?"
I looked at Marcus, got him to focus on my eyes, and said, "He'll get fucked, whether it's in the morning, at noon, or at night.
"And you need to understand. I won't fuck him because I want to. I don't. He's arrogant and a total bastard. But I'll fuck him because that's what he needs, is to get fucked."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, I believe you have an afternoon practice. Get going," I ordered.
To be continued.
Men and boys, thanks for your comments. If you send something, remember to put something in the subject line, or I think it's spam and delete it. Master Terra D masterterradil@yahoo.com