Sailor and the Sergeant 5 - by Gruntraq
...Sitting on the couch he pulled a deep hit off the bong and called the number he already knew. "Are you guys right across the street?" Ritchie asked. "Of course we are. How is our Sailor?" officer Jacks replied. Ritchie took a swig of his beer, "He's better now". "Well we're happy you two finally hit it off," Jacks said, laughing to him self about his little pun.
"If you have the time we'd like to cash in our chips". Ritchie replied, "Come on up".
Ritchie knew what it meant to cash in the chips for Sgt. Ramos and his crew. It meant being the ultimate bitch. He was their slave. He and Ramos met when Ritchie first moved to the area. He got caught working the street by Ramos and was initiated similarly to Sailor although in a much less vengeful fashion. Insistent that Ritchie find a more subtle way of playing his game, Ramos essentially made a deal with him. As long as Ritchie helped Ramos however he needed it, that Ritchie got to wear the "halo" . This meaning that he was pretty much free of worry from much of anything so long as he paid his "taxes" to Ramos and his men. This arrangement originally made Ritchie feel shit on at first, but over the years he had grown to trust Ramos and his guys and they watched his back too. They had become family.
Before Ramos could knock on the door, it swung quietly open. Jacks and the Latin Sergeant entered the room in a giddy mood. Looking around the room Ramos brushed Ritchie's cheek and examined his eye now starting to bruise. "How you doing there? Looks like you're gonna get a shiner", he said. "It still stings a little, but it's fine." Ritchie answered. "Where is Sailor?", Ramos asked shooting a shit eating grin at Ritchie. "He's sleeping in my bed", Surfer replied. Jacks was walking around the room and picked up the bong to inspect it. "You know Ritchie, this stuff will rot your brain", Jacks kidded as he grabbed the lighter and sparked up the remaining Humboldt Green in the bowl. "You guys are cops right?" Ritchie kidded back as he rolled his eyes.
Ramos looked around to make sure the shades were drawn before unbuckling his belt and letting his fat cock swing out. Handling it with both hands and squeezing it to life. He dropped his belted pants to the floor, and sat back on the couch. Ritchie pulled his cargo shorts off and took his position on his hands and knees before the couch and went to work on the Sergeants sticky, stinky tool. Pausing, Ritchie remarked, "You taste like you been fucking a Sailor". Giving him a stern look, Ramos grabbed his skull and shoved him back onto his stick as Jacks was taking a position to fuck Surfer's luscious ass. While Ritchie sucked and slurped Ramos, Jacks spit on his man stick and wetted it up good. Ritchie's pussy was no longer too tight for a spit and shove, and he actually preferred it that way. Jacks sank his rod slowly into Surfer taking up grip on his shoulders. Ritchie slid his hands around Ramos' clenching buttocks to brace himself as Jack began fuck slapping his ass. Sliding his tongue in and out of the folds of Ramos's uncut Latin meat was a specialty that Ritchie had been taught by the Sergeant. "Ritchie, you are sooo good at that, yeah, keep it coming man," Ramos commended as he ran his hands through Surfer's hair. His body was now thrusting back and forth from the Jack-hammering on the other end, and the three of them fell into the rhythm of man sex motion.
Almost as soon as the interlude started, Ritchie felt the friction in his fuck hole ease up with a warm slippery wave of juice. Jacks had blown his cop load deep in his nest once again. He continued pumping his stink hole with his rubbery stick as Surfer finished up with Ramos. Licking in and out of his piss hole and under his foreskin, his work had finally gotten Ramos to blow. Streams of shooting white gold flooded Ritchie's mouth one after another. He took care to rim out his foreskin for every last drop of his man juice and swallowed it down. Within minutes, the two officers buttoned up their pants and were out the door. Ritchie, grabbed the beer he had opened and took a swig, swishing it around in his mouth and then swallowing Ramos and Samuel Adams down. Dave would be home soon, after cleaning up the bar. He could stay up but he was getting tired. He looked around the apartment for a moment and decided to hit the sack.
Chad came to as the light pierced through the slats of the mini-blinds. Unlike many of the previous times he had gotten drunk, got laid and work up in a strange place next to some skank whore, this time he was in bed with a goateed tatted and pierced dude. Ritchie was laying on his stomach with his face pointed away from Chad. He could only see the short croppy blonde hair of Surfer and the earrings that studded his left ear. Chad laid there with his eyes trying to focus on the specks on the ceiling as the realization of his hangover set in. He felt different. As his mind played back last night he recognized the clenched feeling in his gut that told him that it could not be erased. Looking at the clock on the nightstand it was 6:04 AM. He realized he needed to get going or his buddies at the motel would start wondering where he was. He sat up and started toward the bathroom where his clothes were as his head throbbed with pain. As he pulled his dress white slacks on and fished for his socks he heard a shuffling behind him. Ritchie was leaning against the doorway, his tatted torso studded with gold rings was like a mirror in the sun that washed through the window.
Chad's squinted at him as he sat on the toilet to put on his socks. "I gotta run man, my pals are gonna be freaking when they realize I didn't make it home last night. I am really gonna have to make one up this time", Chad said. As Ritchie watched Sailor lace up his chunky black boots, he replied. "Just tell them the truth, that you met some slut after they left and got your dick wet. The closer you stay to the truth, the easier it is to lie." Sailor looked at him and stood up grabbing for his shirt. He just nodded at Ritchie with a masculine smile and said, "Yeah, that`l work I guess. They have heard that one before". Buttoning up his shirt he could not help but to admire Ritchie's small but well proportioned body. His couldn't keep his eyes off that piercing in his cock. He gave into his new found urges.
Chad stopped buttoning his shirt and stepped over to about 3" from Ritchie and faced him. He bowed his head and took his cock in his hands, massaging it. As Ritchie's head tilted back Chad planted his mouth on his and they kissed passionately for a few seconds. The hair of Surfer's mustache and goatee felt exhilaratingly different against his face as he delved deeper into kissing his man. He felt his cock stretching against his dress whites as Ritchie's tool was filling his hands. He gave way again. Chad dropped to his knees and took Surfer's cock into his mouth. He struggled at first, unsure of himself but slowly sunk down on his 8" pierced shaft as far as he dared. The feeling and taste of another man in his mouth was exciting. Ritchie leaned back against the doorway and let his hands grasp Sailors buzzed skull. Chad tried bobbing on his meat in a linear back and forth like he had seen so many women do. Stopping him, "Lick my head around my piercing", Ritchie ordered. Sailor obeyed and began running his tongue around the golden barbell ring and the holes it came out of. "Yeah, that's right, that feels good" Ritchie murmured.
Chad began to taste the familiar ooze or sticky juice mixed with the metallic and sped up his slithering tongue. He found himself remembering the taste of the five men's forced loads from the night before and was now wanting more of it. Ritchie pushed Sailor's head back down on his shaft and began face fucking him, his balls slapping against his chin. Chad was now rubbing his throbbing cock with his hand which had poked through his yet unzipped fly. Moments later Ritchie announced, "I'm gonna cum! Do you want it in your mouth or on your face?" Chad answered by sucking his meat furthering his mouth with vengeance. In seconds a flood of that warm salty goo that he had nearly drowned on last night flowed into his throat and danced on his tongue. He thought he was going to gag at first, but he was able to keep his reward from escaping out as he sucked and lapped up his warm load. "Kiss me", Ritchie ordered. Sailor stood up and the two of them locked lips and shared his man spunk while Ritchie grabbed for Chad's cock. Sensing that he was ready to blow, Ritchie knelt down and caught his explosion just in time, sucking his hot sticky GI tool dry.
As they both walked down the hall, Dave was standing at the table pouring a cup of coffee. "Hey Sailor, coffee's on", he offered shooting his a devious smile. Taken aback at first Chad looked back at Ritchie. He grinned at him and took the coffee from the barkeep's hand , slugged it down, and handed the cup back to him. Looking at both of them he asked in a kidding tone, "Are there any straight guys in this town?" They all laughed. Chad finally turned to Ritchie and forced out his hand and they shook a real man's hand shake. Looking Ritchie in the eye, Chad said "Thanks for everything and again I am real sorry about that eye there". "No problem man", Ritchie replied. "Just come back and see us next time you are in town".
His head still throbbing with pain, Chad let himself into the motel room he and his buddies had rented the day before. Steve and Brandon were sitting up in their beds watching cartoons. "Where the fuck you been?" Steve chided. "We thought you got arrested again or something". Chad rubbed his aching head. "I ended up hooking up last night after all." Steve and Brandon looked at each other shaking their heads. "Well tell us about it". Chad waved his hand down at them. "Nothing to tell, just another bar slut".
Continued in Sailor and the Sergeant 6 - Comments Welcome gruntraq@yahoo.com