Shayne Does Springfield

By Steve Griffin

Published on Sep 30, 2003

Gay

See part 1 for disclaimers. Remember to practice safe sex, always!

I'm sorry for the long delay between chapters, and for this short chapter. I've been pretty busy and have other stories as well. This is mainly being written to gauge your interest in any further installments. Let me know if you want to see any more. And also, I wondered if you would like to see Shayne's car crash and paralysis written into my story, or would you rather see me pretend that accident didn't happen? The choice is YOURS. Let me know.


Shayne Lewis was barely awake from the middle of a deep sleep when he felt a wet, persistent tongue trembling in his sensitive anal cleft. As he began to push back on the mouth organ, it abruptly left, replaced by a foreign object entering the middle of his pert young buttocks. He squeezed his tight ass around the cold metal, whimpering in horror as he realized it was the butt of a gun. Frank began to slide the gun back and forth in Shayne's rectum, and as ashamed as he would be to admit it, Shayne moaned, leaking a steady stream of pre-cum on the pillow beneath him.

"A butt in YOUR butt...like that, punk?"

Shayne arched his hips a bit more. He knew that voice. His girlfriend Marina's father, Detective Frank Cooper. A very drunk Frank Cooper.

"Always thought ya were queer, kid. Then my girl dated you...don't hurt 'er, not like I did."

Shayne's heart broke for the older, emotionally vulnerable man. He knew Frank and Marina had had their problems, but thought the wounds were healed.

"Mr. Cooper, let's talk. Could you please...how do I say this...get the gun out of my ass?"

Frank chuckled at the absurdity of the statement, but complied. Shayne turned around, not bothering to pull up his pants. Frank was licking his lips at the sweet piece of meat dangling between Shayne's ballplayer thighs. His drunken state left him emotionally naked. Under Shayne's watch, he would soon be physically naked as well.

Before that could start, Shayne massaged Frank's temples. Tried to ease his pain.

"Marina loves you."

"Nah she don't," Frank hiccuped. "I been in the car all night, outside o'your place, drinkin' and watchin'. Thinkin' that she hates me. Thinkin' how wrong I am to t-t-t...take off my clothes at night and shoot my load imagining you in my bed 'stead of some hot piece of pussy. Isn't that sick? Perverted? Huh?"

Shayne impishly grinned.

"Not at all, Mr. Cooper. May I call you Frank?"

Frank nodded. Any further response was cut off when Shayne leaned in and kissed him. A tender, loving kiss of understanding. Frank had fucked a lot of ass back in juvie and now on the force (breaking in those horny, drugged-up high school punks who would give up their ass cherry as long as you didn't call Daddy at his country club and tell him his son's a speed freak), but he'd never kissed another man before, Yet, he soon responded in kind, suckling Shayne's talented tongue and not resisting when Shayne tugged down his jacket.

Shayne popped open the studcops' white shirt buttons next, exposing a furry chest developed from years of physical labor. Frank's build was broad and manly, his close-cropped, auburn-grey hair accenting his intense brown eyes and puffy lips. Shayne had to kiss him again, and again, and again. As he broke away, giggling at his pathetic crush, he unbuckled Frank's pants, letting them drop as he kneeled down to pull off Frank's shoes and socks. Frank grunted at the mouth so teasingly close to his standard white BVD's. Shayne didn't resist when Frank pushed his head against that huge crotch lump. He tasted the basket while removing the rest of Frank's clothes. When he stood up again, his lips tasting of cotton and semen, all Frank had on was a leather shoulder holster and his bulging briefs.

That was exactly what Shayne wanted to remember Frank in. No more or less. With a wicked grin, Shayne bent over the couch, spreading his bubble butt, running a finger down his well-used hole.

"Fuck me with your nightstick, Officer Cooper. Fuck me like I'm gonna fuck your daughter."

In all honesty, Shayne had no plans to sleep with Marina, but he liked the sound of the dirty words as they whispered from his lips. Apparently Frank did too, because he wasted no time in shoving half of his clublike 9 inches up Shayne's thankfully lubed and prepared ass. A raucous butt-fuck ensued, Shayne pushing back onto that hot slice of kebab while Frank yanked at Shayne's hair, pulled him back for a rough kiss, and absentmindedly milked his teencock. He couldn't last long, and soon emptied into Shayne's talented, exhausted ass. The spent men fell into a satisfied heap on the couch. Shayne knew they had to get up very soon, but he wanted the moment to last forever. Frank's breath on his neck, Frank cradling him in his arms. Perfect.

--

Nico knew he was taking a chance. The rough-around-the-edges Italian-American street youth had just found a new home, with mob boss Danny Santos and his frumpy wife, Michelle. Nico wanted to be on his best behavior. So why was he sucking off a passed-out, half-naked Tony Santos, while a load of white hot cum seeped from Tony's rock-hard ass?

Stay tuned for the next chapter.


E-mail me at knack6@hotmail.com, please.


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