Twenty on the Butt
By BILLY JAY DEE
Deputy Richardo Sanchez proudly ushers his good buddy, Dave, into his new home. They enter through the trailer's mud-room.
The sparseness of the dusty room proves the newness of Richardo's ownership and his bachelorhood. A hot breeze follows them in. They pass through the trailer's kitchen into the living room: weight bench and weights, television and a light green threadbare sofa.
"My office, the bathroom and bedroom are back there. I've got to lock this up. Grab us some beers, amigo."
Richardo drops his utility belt with its notorious nightstick and his brown/white uniform shirt at the end of the couch. He heads to the office with his handgun. Dave grabs a couple cans of Coors and returns to the living room.
A sly, knowing smile keeps cropping up on the taller man's face. Out the dirty window, the high desert country surrounding the capitol is all he sees. This season it's thick with dried grass. From here his blue eyes note none of the other two-and-a-half acre lots. Richardo is pretty isolated here. Dave smirks at the thought. He opens the windows, but it doesn't help much with the sweltering heat. He drops into the couch and pulls at his tee-shirt. He mumbles to himself about how hot it is and how horny he is.
"Well, Zorro's was disappointing," Richardo comments as he returns. He sits down on the weight bench facing Dave, who hands him his beer.
On a dare the two men had met at a "gay bar" after work for a drink. Per policy, they'd stripped off their uniform shirts before entering. Now they were dressed in their boots and brown uniform pants, with Dave in his crew's tee-shirt and Richardo in a tight fitting white tank top.
"Yeah, it was pretty much like any other bar after work on a Wednesday!" Dave chuckles. "A handful of guys drinking beers with their buddies."
Dave and Richardo are old friends from work. Dave is a firefighter; Richardo, a deputy for the county. They work together occasionally on arson investigations. Whenever they work together, like today, the Anglo clearly can't keep his eyes off Richardo's petite, Hispanic dark-skinned, hard body. Richardo has a smooth oval face, with dark short hair that sort of makes his ears stick out. He is handsome, but, with his thin brown lips and small mouth that rarely smiles, he looks stern. Which means it's hard for him to make a good friend like Dave.
On closer examination, the apparent sternness is all self-consciousness. (This is before four wetbacks jump him out in the Baca del Sol. They will use his own night-stick against him; leaving him for dead with a broken nose and in need of 127 stitches to put his scalp back on his skull. He'll end up being okay. ) Today he can't help but smile, every time he glances up at Dave from deep draws on his beer.
"The art work was different than you see in most corner bars,"
They laugh about the beefcake posters of naked athletes depicted on the walls at "Zorro's". Oh, and a rather graphic drawing of three guys doing the "Pig on a Stick" position. One of them points out how the cubby guy in the middle really looks like he is enjoying himself. They both agree they'll have to go on a Friday night to see "jotos" and what a "gay bar" is really all about. Richardo takes another big swig. His cheeks are rosy now. He can't look at Dave without breaking out into a grin.
"Mijo, I've got to work out, ahora. How about you spot for me? I'm going to get out of my uniform. You might want to strip down too," he jokingly says to the slightly older man.
He returns quickly. When Richardo returns from the back of the trailer on his tip-toes, he's wearing only a white jock strap. He blushes so hard he can't look at Dave when he enters the living room. When he does, he drops to his heels, his right hand goes to his smooth chest and he laughs. Dave is buck-naked sitting on the couch.
"You told me to strip down. I wasn't wearing underwear today so..." Dave explains, moving aside his hands to display his body.
Dave has a long body and stands a head higher than his brown-skinned buddy. Sandy brown hair covers his chest and a pinkish scar runs along his left knee. A brown moustache and short brown hair covers his roundish head. A ready smile graces his face.
Dave's thick seven-nch cock lies on his left thigh and it's not exactly flaccid. He's tan above his belt line and below the hem of his favorite brown terry-cloth shorts. Richardo points and laughs at the sharp tan-line between the Anglo's thighs and abdomen. Dave takes it in stride. He busily admires Richardo's well muscled, sinewy, little brown body. Burning with embarrassment, Richardo turns abruptly and lies down on the weight bench. Dave moves to the head of the work bench, which means his dick is pointing straight at Richardo's face. Richardo gets the giggles much to Dave's delight.
The sternness returns to his face and his pearl-like teeth grit in determination. He takes his work out seriously, moving rapidly through his repetitions. When he finishes he sits up quickly, covered in sweat and panting heavily. He reaches for his beer on the dusty floor next to the weight bench. It's empty. Dave hands him his and goes for two more cans.
When Richardo recovers his breath, he looks across at the taller man and says, "What do you think? Is working out paying off? "
He curls his arms up and flexes his biceps, encouraging Dave to "feel it". Dave drops on his knees before his buddy and scoots in close. He squeezes the cop's upper arm and caresses his torso.
Dave mumbles something about "getting bigger" and then after a double take says, "What are these spots on your arm?"
"Let me show you." The Spaniard reaches for his belt and wrestles a pack of cigarettes out. He lights up with the matches inside. Extending his right fist, knuckles down, he says: " Put your wrist next to mine, on the inside." Dave complies. Richardo gets a good look at Dave's woody in the process. "What you do is put a twenty dollar bill across our wrists. Then each guy lowers a lit cigarette onto the bill. Over the other guys arm." Richardo flips the cigarette up to demonstrate with no move towards touching Dave's hairy forearm. "The guy that can take it the longest, wins the money. I win a lot of money."
"Doesn't that hurt? A lot?"
"No mucho. I kind of like it," Richardo brags with a wag of his head. "You can put out a cigarette on your shoulder or leg and it won't even blister. But, the bone is so near the surface on the wrist that you can get burned badly. Pretty cool, que no?Muy macho?"
"Yeah, you are muy macho, amigo!" Dave assures him as his hairy hands move further down the smooth muscled torso. "But you know who the most macho guy is? The guy that takes a dildo up his ass with no whimpering."
Richardo's pupils swell with surprise. A blush rises to his temples. He leans back, away from Dave. His mouth looks stern. His eyes flit about the room, flying anywhere rather than light on Dave again.
"Yo no se. Yo no se, amigo, he says pretending he doesn't know about such things.
In response Dave stares at the purple head of his friend's erect brown rod, poking over the waist band of Richardo's jock strap. When Richardo finally follows Dave's gaze, a shocked guffaw spurts from his lips. Dave smiles and then turns to stare at the notorious night-stick.
"No way!"
"Well not the whole thing," Dave laughs as he pulls the night-stick from the belt. "Maybe just 7 inches of it." He says as he lays his swollen sex-tool atop the night-stick. His tool is almost as thick as the glossy, varnished big end of the night-stick.
Richardo is blushing hard. As he shakes his head tears come to his brown eyes. He can't stop grinning.
"You afraid? You worried that you'll cry like a little girl?"
Richardo's eyes flare again. He pushes out his bare chest as his fists clench. His jaw locks. He starts to rise to his bare feet. Suddenly with the batting of his black eyelids it seems to occur to him what he's about to do. He laughs, once.
"Okay, me first, then you, mijo!" Richardo snaps as his right index finger points at Dave's white ass.
He drops his jock, straddles the bench and drops belly down on the bench. On second thought he scoots back a bit so his privates and ass are hanging off the bench. He's still grinning.
"No, you'll start fighting me about the fifth stroke and come up swinging."
"No! You can handcuff me! And ten strokes."
Richardo leaps to his feet on spring-like muscles and stomps over to his belt. This is first clean eyeful Dave get's of his little buddy's package. His brown cock is hard and about six inches long; not thick at all. Richardo shows him how to work the cuffs and key. They decide they'd best use lubricant. Richardo fetches a bottle from his bedstead and then returns to his position on the weight bench determinedly, hands now clasped behind his back. Dave snaps on the handcuffs. He kneels behind Richardo, out of sight between the bottom's quivering thighs. Richardo can hear his good friend fiddling with the lube and night-stick.
"Okay, here we go, buddy," Dave announces.
He spreads Richardo's tight round ass cheeks with one hand as his fist forces itself hard into the right cheek and his fingers guide the head of the stick steadily into the native New Mexican's asshole. Every fiber of Richardo's being strains against the invasion. His neck muscles pull tight across his throat. His gritted teeth lift his locked jaw. His muscular arms pull against the cuffs. His hands clench. Then he suddenly relaxes as though it's not that painful.
"What the fuck!" he shouts.
Then he laughs. That's his buddy's belly wedged in the crack of his brown ass. Those are Dave's low-hanging hairy balls rubbing against his.
"Well, it is seven inches and that's my first stroke," Dave grunts. His fingers touch tentatively on the bottom's back in case he should try to rise. Dave's right hand is on Richardo's narrow waist. "Relax. Take it like a man."
Richardo complies, lying there quietly. Dave takes a lot more than ten strokes. He takes them in rapid succession. Sweat oozes through the forest of hair on his chest and rains down into the action in the bottom's crack. It stings the brown man's screaming sphincter. But the bottom makes no complaints. Somewhere around the tenth stroke, Dave hears his little friend saying "Chingame! Chingame!" and praising how good Dave's performance is. Dave pushes deep, pins the brown waist to the bench and unloads inside . As his own "night-stick" continues to spasm, he leans over the cop, bracing himself on his elbows.
Dave sighs heavily. "Well, buddy next time you'll have to do me."
He unlocks the handcuffs from his buddy and then leans back pulling his slimy spent cock out. Several globs of cum follow. He falls back on the linoleum.
"No, mijo. I'll take my turn now."
Richardo stands and turns to reveal his fully upright rod, ready for action. He pulls the unwilling firefighter to his feet and then belly down on the bench. Dave grasps the edge of the bench for support while the Latino now fiddle-farts around with the lube and nightstick. It seems to take inordinately long. The white ass framed by tan lines quivers nervously.
"Look at this," Richardo's voice calls as he rises from behind his intended victim and waddles towards the head of the bench.
Dave looks back to see Richardo has the night-stick up his own ass. The cop waddles back and forth in full view, then slow removes it with his right hand. With his left he holds Dave's head and then brings it shiny with jism, other bodily fluids and lube close to the prone guy's face.
"You ready for seven inches of this, son?"
"Oh, shit!" is Dave's only response.
He lays his head on the bench and waits. Cum still drips from his dangling dick. Richardo drags both of the Anglo's wrists together and holds them there with his left hand. His other fist forces itself hard into the right cheek and his fingers guide the head of his stiff prick into the white-boys waiting asshole.
"Surprise, gringo! It's my vega! You feel so good, man! I'm just going to leave my dick here for a while." The squirming bottom grunts in relief. His torso relaxes, but his legs still shake nervously.
The crackling and smell of phosphorus announces Richardo lighting up another cigarette. "Does it hurt, joto? Who's the tough guy now?"
The "joto" admits it hurts, then for good measure moans in imitation pain.
"Oh, I don't think it hurts enough yet, punta. I have to fuck you hard, real hard, so you know who the real man is."
Richardo pushes his wrists up the bottoms back, rises on his toes and pounds the white ass below him with all his weight three vicious times. The mouth attached to his fuck-hole gasps each time. Drool blubbers out of the lips pressed into the bench.
"Don't move. Don't move," Richardo whispers, between rapid pants.
His brown-body turns rigid. He tries to take a drag on the cigarette, but seems hesitant to move.
"Did that hurt, joto?" he asks again, his voice cracking in the process.
"Yeah, yeah. It hurts so much. Your cock is so big. You're tougher than me."
"Verdad?" Richardo asks questioningly of the bottom's trite phrase.
His right hand falls from his parted lips, with the lit cigarette. The smoldering stick takes a long arc downwards, swings close by the blue eyes now wide with surprise, swings up quickly and plunges onto the upturned squirming white ass. Richardo plunges back in for the fifth time and unloads! With both hands he holds that irate, bucking butt and finishes shooting.
"What the fuck?"
"Amigo, I told you it would not hurt!" Richardo laughs "Turn around. Let me see. See no scar, no blister, no nada.
Dave jokingly admits that his Hispanic buddy is right, but pulls at and feels around the offended cheek just to be sure. Richardo steps to the couch, puffs another cigarette and hands it to his friend.
"Here do it to me!" Dave laughs, hesitates and then quickly extinguishes it on the proffered brown butt. "See no damage! I wouldn't hurt you!"
They embrace and kiss for the first time. Laughter and smiles fill the smoky little trailer. Naked white hips, brown hips and spent dicks press together. They admit their long time mutual attraction. Richardo is fighting back tears of emotion. They make plans for Friday night.
"Amigo, I really had fun! I really liked it when you were fucking me. Maybe Friday, you can put a twenty on my butt when you're doing it, por favor?"