Herman Tyler ambled down the interstate returning from a week-long Police convention in the neighboring city. It was a typical summer day in the mid-west. The sky was a deep blue, almost cloudless, except for an atypical golden haze over Baxter, his destination, his hometown. Tyler was the local law enforcement, the head of a small police station manned by a staff of himself, George his deputy, Gwen the secretary/control-center of the station, and Floyd, a part-time janitor. He'd enjoyed his small vacation from the responsibilities of his position and a break from the boredom that filled most of his days. Nothing eventful ever seemed to happen in Baxter, the days and years plodded by with nothing at all the mark their coming and going.
Tyler was single, not by choice, but by lack of opportunity; he'd resigned himself to living out his days in bachelorhood. In his mid-forties, typical rugged-looking all-American type of guy, he'd grown far too comfortable with his simple and uncomplicated life. For relaxation and escape, he'd spend long weekends at a small cabin in the woods, reading, fishing and sleeping away the better part of the morning -- typical guy stuff.
As he passed the beat-up sign announcing the approaching border of Baxter, he sighed a resigned long breath, dreading his return. Everything seemed in its usual, never-changing order as he drove down Main Street, maybe a little quieter than usual, if that were possible. Tom's hardware on the right, the Piggly-Wiggly grocery on the left, Mary's post office, the drug store, Alice's Diner, all the usual small town necessities packaged into a neat and orderly community.
He walked through the front door of the Baxter police station and stopped dead in his tracks. George, his deputy, was lying across a cot in one of the cells naked, as a young man, also naked, a kid Tyler didn't recognize sucked away on the deputy's dick.
"What the hell," Tyler shouted as he dropped his bag to the floor. Tyler had never in his life seen a guy getting a blowjob, and never ever from another man. He had to physically close his mouth from the shock, his stomach churned.
Now normally when caught in an act like this, you'd expect the perpetrators to jump, react, do something, cover up, stop. They didn't. The boy was lost in his sucking, he never looked back, didn't care, and didn't slow the rhythm of the manipulation of the throbbing hard cock buried down his throat. George looked up, grunted something that Tyler couldn't understand or didn't hear and then threw his head back into the dirty pillow on the naked cot. The deputy's moans and groans, filled the silence of the moment as he starred at the shock and disgust on Sheriff Tyler's face. The two naked bodies writhed in lust and passion in the dark dirty cell.
George, a good-looking man in his mid-twenties, raised his head and with no shame or guilt or regret, spoke. "Come on Herman," he grunted, "join us. Fuck my face, give me your hot cock. Fuck my face man. I've wanted that hot tool of yours, that fuckstick for a long time."
Tyler's head spun with disbelief. He wasn't sure what to do or say. George, normally a shy guy, would never have had the nerve or balls to say something of that nature. Tyler knew for a fact that the kid had been a virgin and most likely to remain that way and now here he was naked with his cock buried in some strange kid's mouth. And what was worse, he was offering to suck his boss's cock too. George had never used the word `fuck' Tyler wasn't even sure he knew the word.
Herman shook his head, composed himself and began barking orders. "Get your ass up and dressed and explain yourself."
George grunted a last deep sigh as he exploded in the kid's mouth, emptying a load down his throat. The kid swallowed, sucking in desperation to get every last drop. The deputy then forcibly pushed the cocksucker off his dick. Tyler looked at George's shiny wet cock still hard, surprised at the size. He'd never expected it to be that big. It was the first time he'd seen George naked, actually he'd never even seen him without his shirt on, actually it had been years since he'd seen anyone naked. George wasn't in the least bit embarrassed and didn't even try to cover himself. He walked out of the cell over to where Herman was standing, stopping right in front of his boss, much too close for Tyler's comfort who edged a step backwards.
"What the hell's going on here George," Tyler asked still shaking his head in disbelief.
"Just a little fun," the deputy replied with a smile or a smirk, definitely a grin across his face. "He was begging for it, literally begging me. What's the big deal anyway?"
"The Big Deal," Tyler shouted. "Two guys fucking around in public, in a public office, cock-sucking. It seems like a big deal to me. Since when are you into guys?"
"If you haven't tried it," George went on. "It's like... beyond words, great, terrific, awesome, incredible. Let me show you just how incredible it can be."
He then reached down and cupped Herman's dick still sweaty and buried in his jockey's inside his jeans. He gently squeezed, got a good feel before Tyler shoved his hand away.
"Jesus Christ," he shouted, backing away almost tripping over his bag. "What the fuck do you think you9re doing."
"I want more," George pleaded. "I know you'd like it, just gotta let me take care of you. I've noticed that fucking hot package you carry in those pants. I want it. Think of all the time we spend alone in this office, all the fun we could have."
He reached again for Tyler's dick as the sheriff backed away with a jerk.
"I'm gonna go get a cup coffee," he spoke in a slow and measured tone. "When I get back, you'd better have your ass dressed and this fucker out of here."
Tyler turned and walked through the door into the bright Saturday sunlight of mid-morning. As he walked down the deserted town street, he wondered what had happened to the innocent boy who he'd left in charge when he'd gone off to his convention. Who was this stranger with a hard-on for dick and men, who now filled his deputy's position, who talked with the tongue of drunken whore? What had happened in the week he'd been gone? He couldn't get the image of those two naked male bodies rolling around in that cell cube. It repulsed him, he felt as if he'd throw-up.
He walked into the town diner and took a seat at the counter. As he sat lost in thoughts, Alice the owner plopped a cup of coffee down in front of him.
"Nice to see you back," she
repeated, "this town's gone crazy."
Tyler didn't respond.
"Hello, earth to Herman," she continued.
Tyler snapped out of his day-dream and nodded at her friendly face. "Thanks."
"You sure seem distracted," she pushed.
"Guess so," he snapped back, too confused by the events of the day for small talk.
"Do you want anything to eat," she pressed on.
"Ahhh, no, ... nothing, just the coffee thanks."
The sheriff sat sipping his coffee, bewildered by what had happened at his office when two of the local farm hands slid up on the stools near him at the counter.
Herman glanced over at them, nodded and starred back at his half-empty cup. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something and turned his head. One of the guys had his hand on the other's crotch, massaging his dick, right there under the counter. Herman looked up at their faces, they were watching him, watching them, smiling. He knew these guys, he'd had to throw them out of town several times when they got far too drunk and wouldn't leave the women in the bar alone.
As he looked around the room to see if anyone else noticed, he saw that in several of the booths, two guys sat side by side, most unusual and most ina ppropriate in small-town social conventions. He also noted that the only female in the place was Alice, the owner. At one of the tables, a guy sat alone. Tyler could see under the table that the guy looked like he had his pants undone and under the napkin in his lap, he seemed to be stroking his cock -- in public. He starred at Tyler, smiled and lifted the napkin so he could see his cock.
The confusion, the unorthodox behaviors of these guys, his deputy, made Tyler's head ache. He got up to go to the restroom. As he pushed open the old rusty-hinged door, he heard a quick shuffle inside. As he entered he caught the movement of several guys moving into position at the urinals. Four guys stood side by side, supposedly pissing. One of them had his pants down to his knees, his bare ass exposed to the room. Herman shook his head. "Couldn't be," he thought.
He took the last remaining urinal and pulling his dick out, began to piss. The guy standing next to him kept trying to get a peek at what Herman's had in his hand. Herman leaned forward uncomfortable, blocking his view. He pissed, washed his hands and left the room. The four guys were still standing there, still not pissing. He left the restroom and the diner without a word.
As he walked out of the door, there, in the street, were two dogs, obviously male, taking turns licking each other's totally erect cocks. He'd never s een anything like that in his life. They looked as if they were really enjoying it, hungry for cock.
His amazement was interrupted when he saw a guy, totally naked except for running shoes, jogging down the sidewalk. He gasped, nearly choking. As the guy ran near Herman, he grabbed him by the arm.
"What do you think you're doing," he asked.
"Just out for a run," the guy answered in a mocking tone, as if he were unaware of doing anything out of the ordinary.
"You're naked," Tyler replied. "And the last I checked, it's against the law to be naked in public, and the middle of Main Street is definitely public."
"So what," the guy jabbed.
"So what," Herman responded. "How about an afternoon in jail, that `so what'."
He hauled the guy's naked ass off to jail. When they entered the station, George was dressed and sitting with his feet up on the desk. The kid from the cell was gone. Herman was relieved not to have to deal any further with that situation. He locked the naked guy in the cell and hung the key on the hook behind his desk.
"Where's Gwen," the sheriff quizzed, realizing she wasn't there when he'd arrived that morning and confused because Gwen practically ran the place, she was never gone.
"Took a couple days off," George answered, unconcerned, as he watched intently the naked guy in the cell.
Herman left the room for a couple minutes and when he returned, George was on his knees in front of the cell, the naked guy's cock pressing against his lips.
"George," Herman screamed.
George didn't respond and didn't stop sucking away on the now totally hard tool. The guy moaned loud as he fucked his hips back and forth slamming against the bars between him and the deputy's mouth.
Herman yelled again, but George ignored him and continued to service the drooling cock. Herman moved across the room and jerked George back and off the cock, throwing him to the floor. George crawled back up on his knees and lunged back toward the fleshy tool, wet and demanding continued service. Herman pulled him back again, grabbed his shoulders and slapped him across the face.
"Get hold of yourself," he screamed right into the deputy's face. "Get out of here, go home and get yourself under control. We'll deal with this later, talk it out. Now go!"
George left, head hanging, never taking his eyes off the cock still sticking through the bars. Herman could see a desperate lust for the cock in George's dazed eyes.
As the door closed behind the depu ty, Herman turned and starred at the guy in the cell, his cock still sticking through the bars.
"Please," the guy begged, "please, suck it. I can't stand it, please suck it. I beg you." He held his cock tight, stroking it slowly, the shiny purple head throbbing in the dim light of the room.
Herman just starred at the guy's glassy eyes filled with lust gone wild, lust out of control. He walked out into the street. There, standing in the middle of Main Street in front of the police office, Herman looked up at the sky. A golden tint seemed to float like a piss-colored fog surrounding the whole town. He hadn't noticed how pronounced it was, how unusual. He'd seen it driving back to town, hadn't thought twice about it, but it was unusually strange. He'd seen similar colors before an intense storm but never on such a cloudless and beautiful day. Baxter was a clean, pollution-free town away from all the manufacturing and big-city exhausts that often fill the air with pollutants and crap. As he stood there studying the sky, he realized his own penis was hard, erect. Why? It pressed against the inside of his pants and as he looked down, he could clearly see it pushing out the front of his jeans. Why?
He walked to Gwen's house on the edge of town, walked through the white picket fence and knocked at the door. "Who's there," the small elderly voice asked from inside.
"It's me Gwen, it's Herman," the sheriff replied.
The door slowly opened, and Gwen peeked through the crack. With a half smile, she opened the door to let him in.
"I'm sure glad you're back," she started. "This town has gone plum loco. Guys on guys all over the place, wives leaving their husbands, damn fool craziness. That's all I can say."
"Back up," Tyler interrupted. "Tell me how it started. When it started."
"It was last Tuesday morning," she began, pouring him a cup of tea. "The sun was no where to be seen that morning, this damn heavy yellow fog was just here, blocking the entire sky. Strangest thing I've ever seen. Couldn't see your hand in front of your face. It smelled funny. Can't explain how, but just funny. No one could go anywhere. I managed to make to the office; George did too. There were a couple fender-benders bumps here and there but nothing too serious. It let up but didn't completely go away, it's still there."
"Then the craziness started. George was in the toilet and wouldn't come out. I heard him, he was... you know... to his thing. He was in there for over an hour. Wasn't sure what to do or say. I mean, he's never done anything like that. And he wouldn't stop, did it a few times that day."
"The Johnson boy called from their farm. Jasper their farmhand, he'd... You know, I guess had sex with the boy, against his will. Before I could get George out there, the boy called back and said forget it, it was okay, it didn't happen. I sent George out anyway and he didn't come back for hours. When he did, he said it was a mistake. Didn't explain further."
"Then old lady Hendrick called, she'd been walking by Tom's hardware and said that there were four guys in there all naked and playing with each other. I called George and had him go over, he didn't come back for over an hour and when he did, he again said there was nothing wrong."
"The calls kept coming in, one after another, wives complaining, public nakedness, odd behaviors, all these damn men. Crazy."
The sheriff sipped his tea, listening, knowing Gwen wasn't the type to ever exaggerate anything. He knew the information she was sharing was dead-on honest and accurate.
"Why didn't you call me," he asked.
"Knew you'd be back soon and figured it would work itself out," she answered. "It's this damn fog I think, has to be. It happened so quickly. George kept disappearing into the toilet. I know what he was doing, could see his thing big in his pants over and over. Whatever this fog thing was has affected the men-folk in this town. I decided to stay here, safe in my house till you returned."
"You gotta fix it sheriff," she demanded.
"I'll try," he stuttered. "Not sure where to start. You stay here; I'll be in touch. I'm gonna check around."
He noticed that during their conversation, she kept looking at his crotch, checking to be sure. Fortunately, his penis had remained quiet during their visit.
As he strolled down the sidewalk, he nearly ran into an older woman almost running out of the grocery store.
"Excuse me," he started, though she didn't even stop to reply, only scurried down the street and out of sight. She'd been red-faced, embarrassed, obviously upset. Herman stepped inside the store. As he walked through the door, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, a couple guys in the back shopping, Jim standing behind the counter in his clean white shop apron as usual. He waved as Herman walked through the door.
It was then that the sheriff noticed that the starched white apron bulged out in front and seemed to be moving. As Herman stepped closer, he noticed that there was someone under the apron, Jim's pants were down around his ankles and Joey, his nineteen year old clerk was completely naked and on his knees and under the apron, taking care of Jim like the guy in the cell with George, like the guys in the restroom at Alice's, like the streaker, like everyone it seemed today in town.
Herman felt his cock getting harder again in the pants. He couldn't control it. He stepped up in front of Jim on the other side of the counter.
"Why," he asked. "Why are you doing this here in your store?"
"Doing what," Jim responded with a confused look on his face.
"Getting a blowjob from Joey with customers in the store, just doing this in public, why?"
"Had to," Jim stuttered as he moaned with the clerk's work. "Not sure why, just had to. Joey's really good at it and getting better all the time, step back here and let him show you for himself. Looks like you're ready for this new service the store's offering."
Jim pulled Joey from under his apron and up to his feet. He pulled the boy beside him giving Herman the full view of the naked clerk. He pulled him close and kept rubbing the teen's ass as the sheriff studied his naked body, his totally hard cock. Jim was married, had three teens of his own, had never done anything of this sort in his life, president of the P.T.A., pillar of the community. And now he had his fingers stuck in the ass of hi s shop clerk in front of God and the world, and he didn't care.
Herman instinctively bent a little at the waist to try and hide the obvious problem in his pants. He watched the young boy licking his lips and desperately trying to get back at Jim's throbbing manhood. The two male shoppers stepped up behind Herman. When he looked their way, he noticed that both their cocks were hanging out of their pants and mostly erect. They then leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "He finished us off already, he is great. Wait till he wraps his hot lips around that cock of yours. You'll love it too. If he doesn't do a good job, we'll take care of you ourselves."
One of the shoppers grabbed Herman's ass and gave it a squeeze with one hand and gave the cock of the guy standing next to him a squeeze too.
Herman felt the hand massaging his ass. The blood rushed to his head and before he could think, he fisted the guy. Herman was a peaceful man and even as Sheriff, had never lost his temper or had to resort to using his fists. The guy landed flat on his backside as a small trickle of blood streamed down his chin. He held his jaw and continued to smile.
"What's wrong with you guys," Herman yelled. "Keep your hands off me."
The guy only smiled. Herman shoved past the other shopper and out the front door,
he ran down the street, past the jail, toward his house on the edge of town.
As he walked past the local high school, he realized the football field was vacant. The local football team was on the field every Saturday at this time of day practicing. He knew something was wrong and despite the desperation of his mood, the bizarre events of the day, he decided to check it out. He walked up to the locker room windows and peered inside. His suspicions proved accurate when he saw the whole team in the locker room naked. Several of the players including the quarterback, the most macho guy in school, were dressed in cheerleader outfits with the tight sweaters and short skirts, they were dancing along the benches for the other boy's entertainment. He noticed that none of them had panties on, just bare asses and cocks that flashed into view when they bent and danced around. The guys hooted and hollered to their routine. Every young cock in the room was hard and pointing toward the sky. They slapped each other on the asses, grabbed each others cocks, lost in a frenzy of flesh.
The naked audience grabbed at the dancing boys and ripped at their clothes, yanking and jerking and tearing until the cheerleader costumes were in shreds on the floor. One by one, their cocks were devoured by the hungry mouths in the crowd. Guys were bent over the benches and fucked over and over, every ass, every mouth was filled time and time again and load after load of
hot young cum exploded and shot.
Herman's cock throbbed and hurt it was so hard in his pants. The scene sickened him, but his body, his cock, seemed to be responding with a mind of it's own. It wanted to be part of the action. He panted as he watched in a far too interested manor. And then, he saw the team coach come walking in. He knew for a fact that the coach was as straight as they come, probably the biggest homo-phobe, he'd ever known. The coach had once kicked a kid off the team for wearing colored underwear. He watched and waited for the explosion, wondering what he'd do, what he'd say, if he'd ever let any of the guys stay on the team.
Then the guys noticed the coach standing there with his hands on his hips, stern look on his face, two of the boys walked over and as if expected, began stripping the coach.
Once naked, he jumped into the action and quickly had his ass, his mouth, and his cock serviced time and time again. The mound of flesh, rolled and pounded into each other, like a wave of erotic eruption, out of control.
Herman fell to the ground on his knees, his hands buried in his face.
"How can this be happening," he moaned. "What's wrong with this town?"
He went home, he poured himself a tall glass of scotch and locked himself away from the town, the insanity, the20crazy sexual frenzy that seemed to have overtaken every male in Baxter. He drank until he was barely conscious and then after pulling off his shirt and pants, he fell into his bed. Maybe it was all a dream, maybe in the morning things would be normal.
Waves of flesh and multitudes of cocks seemed to flow through Herman's dreams. Like trees in a forest sprouting from bushes of hair, he dreamed vivid and erotic dreams of towers of manhood, sex beyond understanding, beyond reason, beyond limit. Scenes of mouths swallowing longer and longer cocks, meat pounding in and out of asses and mouths, between legs. Tyler moaned at the visions that raced through his thoughts. His own cock ached as the vivid visions grew more and more real in his mind. He saw the locker room scene over and over, not as the observer but as the focus of all those young mouths and cocks fucking him, sucking his cock, rubbing their hard young bodies over him, in him, on him, through him. He felt all those hot young hands searching, exploring his own body. He tried to push the thoughts away, he didn't want it, but he did want it, he tried to fight it, but he begged for it. His mind fought the images, but embraced them.
He felt his demanding cock being stroked, it felt wet, he tried to push the dream away, but it won his lust, his want. He felt his cock sinking into flesh, a hot warm mouth; he tried to fight it, but he welcomed it. He pushed his hips si nking deeper into the dream, into the hot warm mouth, the tongue, the throat, the sucking as it tightened all around his dick. He moaned out loud with the warm and intense pleasure of the mouth that forced itself deeper and deeper around his demanding cock. His prick controlled him now, it needed the warmth, the tender, and wild embrace, the rapid and faster movement, as it slammed down and up on his naked cock. Somewhere in his mind, he wanted to force it away but he couldn't, he needed it more than he needed to stop it.
The vivid colors of flesh and passion swirled through his mind, drove him wilder and wilder, deeper into the depths of lust than he'd ever explored. He saw all those males naked and writhing in their lust, his lust. He tried to stop, tried to find the usual women of his passionate dreams, but they no longer existed, only males, only cock.
His own loud and passionate cries of lust raised him up farther, out of the dark and flesh filled dreams of his sleep. He felt the demanding mouth around his cock, his cock buried in the hot throat of the faceless cocksucker consuming him. As his eyes cracked open, he looked into the dark and lusty night of his bed, his thoughts cleared, the dreams faded; and then, he saw the head bobbing up and down on his now naked body, he saw George. It wasn't a dream, George was there naked in his bed, and he was naked, stripped in his sleep and George was wrapped arou nd his cock, and he loved it. He hated it, but he loved it, he needed to stop it, but he couldn't stop it, he needed it, he had to have it at any price. He continued to moan and thrust his hips in and out of the receptical of his pleasure. He felt George's hard cock pressed against his legs as he surrendered to the passion, as he lost himself in his lust.
"George," he moaned through a thick and strained passionate voice. "Stop," he begged, though he would have begged for him not to stop, if he had.
George kept working Herman's cock, faster and faster. He would not, he could not be put off at this point, he would have finished no matter what.
And then, Herman erupted in a climax more intense, more earth-shaking than ever in his life. Wave after wave of liquid love flowed down George's throat. The boy gagged yet swallowed every drop, sucked to get more. Spasm after spasm shook Herman's body, his legs trembled, his clenched toes hurt from the tightened muscles, his thighs cramped as he literally exploded in a crescendo of unyielding pleasure and delight.
The orgasm continued for minutes, yet seemed like hours. At one point, Herman thought he'd pass out from the intensity. He slammed his hips against George's face over and over before collapsing down into the mattress of his sweat-soaked bed. He felt George's seed spray all over his l egs as he too reached his end.
In the quiet of the dark room, of Herman's home, they lay panting, unable to speak. A wave of euphoria spread from one end of Herman's body to the other. George held tight to Herman's cock in his mouth. It began to shrink, it's mission met, yet he refused to let go. His tongue gently massaged the underside of his sweet and forbidden fruit. He rolled the cock back and forth, licking it, sucking to keep a gentle pressure around it. Herman continued to moan, a gentle and peaceful purr of delight, of warmth, of fulfillment.
Before sleep overtook him, Herman pulled his soft and love-soaked cock through George's warm and tender lips. He pulled him up on the bed beside him in the blinding darkness of the night. Their warm and wet bodies of tingling flesh pressed tight to one another. Their spent cocks nestled tight, side by side, between them.
"How did you, I mean why, I mean... nice..." was all Herman could utter.
Sleep swept him away into the darker parts of the night.
The next morning, Sunday morning, Herman slowly woke from the drunken depths of sleep. He opened his eyes; he knew what had happened. He looked around. George was gone, his bed torn apart and strewn about he floor. He lifted to sheet to check, yes, he was naked. His mind flowed through the memories of the night, confused, delighted, repulsed. H e remembered that he'd given George a key to take care of his house while he was gone. He wondered if it was the fog that had made him submit to last night. Was it the fog or his quiet and hidden nature that had made it happen?
As he walked out his front door, showered and ready for the day, he noted the sky, blue clear, totally clear, no yellow haze. It was gone, he not only could see it, he could feel that it was gone. Whatever it was that had so completely changed the men of Baxter no longer existed. The men at Alice's diner returned to their normal behavior of gawking down the waitress's clevage, the occasional innocent slaps on their asses and the boasting of the exploits with women. Nothing ever happened again, out of the ordinary, in the men's room. The streaker was let out of jail, confused and pissed, no memory of why he was naked and denying he'd ever run down the street that way. Jim and Joey never mentioned what had happened during that week. Jim's still happily married and enjoying the normal sex he usually had with his wife. The boy's football team returned to their normal' selves too, chasing girls, trying to get laid. The straightness' that was once Baxter returned in full-force. Those dark urges for male on male sex left as quickly as they came. All was back in order, all was back in the closet -- mostly.
That next weekend, Herman sat on the po rch of his cabin in the woods. He sat in his boxers watching the sun go down through the tall pines. The cricket serenade announced the coming night as his mind wondered thinking about the week gone by, the craziness. He took a sip from his bottle of beer and drank in the peace.
The squeaky screen door opened and out walked George, naked. He crawled into Herman's welcoming arms. They wrapped their arms and lips into each other, melted into the beautiful setting sun. They shared a welcome embrace of love and contentment that would keep them for all their days and years ahead.
End.