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MOTORCYCLE COP AND THE HOT ROD free porn video
THE MOTORCYCLE COP AND THE HOT ROD
By Jim Diamond
I sat quietly in the car, wondering what in hell to do — I couldn't afford a ticket, but he had me dead to rights; my '32 Ford street rod was doing 65 in a 45 mph zone. I couldn't help it. When I hear that blower whine and the dual pipes roaring, I can't keep my foot off the gas. Next thing I knew, I had a cycle cop on my tail, lights flashing, and when I pulled over, I knew he wasn't going to ask me to buy tickets to the policemen's ball.
I checked the mirror. The night was dark, but I could see the cop leaning his motorcycle on its kickstand and taking out his ticket book. Damn, this was bad. Cops have hated cars with no fenders ever since the golden days of hot rods in the '50s.
He was a big guy, this motorcycle cop, tall and broad shouldered — a Green Bay Packers linebacker in a black leather uniform — and he walked up to my car with a proud strut. He leaned down to the window of my little Deuce coupe and demanded my license and registration. As I fished the license out of my wallet, I started in with the humility routine: "Officer, I'm really, really sorry!?"
And that was the truth. Getting a ticket would put me in a big jam. My insurance rates would go up, my employer would bitch, and so on. He must have read the panic in my face. He smiled. "This is a good looking car, and you hot rodders would rather work on an engine than get a ticket, right?"
His voice was low and deep, and in spite of the panic in my head, one side of my brain noticed the guy was a real hunk — his face was broad and German looking with blond hair but with sharp Latin angles and dark eyes, sort of a cross between a Terminator and a rock star — handsome in a satanic, cruel way. He smiled, waiting for my answer. Nice white teeth. I was surprised they weren't sharpened to points.
"No, Officer, I don't want a ticket. A ticket would really fuck me up. I'm sorry I was speeding. It won't happen again, I swear!'
He ran his hand over the candy apple red paint of the door. "Nice car, real nice," said the deep voice, "but that's too bad. You've got to pay for what you did."
What a bastard! Inside every cop is a sadistic motherfucker trying to get out. He wasn't really admiring my car either. He didn't know shit about hot rods, he just wanted to watch me squirm. Then he lowered his voice to a wicked purr and said, "How'd you like to suck my cock?"
I turned the idea over in my head. I had never sucked a cock, never done anything like that. I never took part in the circle jerks when I was a Boy Scout, and I was never invited to the J/O parties in high school. I jacked off a lot though, and I had to admit to a curiosity about playing with another man's peter.
Now the chance stood right outside my car door. What would it feel like to get this big cop's big pecker in my mouth? I stared straight ahead and took a deep breath. "Okay," I croaked. "Let's see it."
His pen stopped scratching in the ticket book. I heard the sound of a zipper, then the squeak of leather. I turned my head, and there, right at face level, was the biggest cock I ever saw. My mouth dropped open more from shock than lust.
The deep voiced cop had a dong that looked 10 inches long, and I swear the fucking thing was as big around as a beer bottle. It jutted in through the window of my hot rod, casting a moon shadow on the leatherette tuck 'n' roll upholstery. He was uncircumcised, and a leathery foreskin shrouded his cockhead, giving me just a peek at the tip. I smelled the musky odor of a sweaty crotch. The black hole at the end of his cock reminded me of the muzzle of his .38 pistol, and I stared like a deer caught in the headlights. "Awright," he growled, "suck it."
As I opened my mouth, he put his hand behind my head and yanked me toward him. As the huge pecker head passed my lips, it was so big it spread my jaws, and the friction against my lips stripped back his foreskin. The first surprise was that it was so warm, surely hotter than 98.6.
As it clogged the back of my throat, my brain screamed, It's too big! I can't suck that thing, it's . . . . Mmmfgh! He rammed the huge penis past the back of my mouth and down my throat. It spread my jaws even wider, to the point of pain. Taking the monstrous shaft in my mouth was like trying to swallow a huge, hot salami.
"Unnnnh, yeahhhh," he purred, then he pulled it back out, but not quite all the way. He left the cockhead between my lips. I automatically licked his slimy knob. Then with another lunge, he sank it into my throat again, and at deepest penetration, he gave another happy grunt. Then he pulled it back out. With instincts I never dreamed I had, my tongue drilled at the sensitive skin of his trigger, and I felt him tremble. I knew how to pleasure a man!
Once more his hips lunged powerfully, jamming the huge thing down my throat. I don't know what came over me — I thought I was miserable and suffering — but my left hand reached out, pulled his pants open a bit more, and reached in to fondle his balls. He wore a jockstrap and had pulled the pouch aside to get his cock out. His testicles were like big ping pong balls beside the deflated strap. They floated in his hairy sack like big goldfish squirming past my probing fingers. As I fondled that mighty pair, he let out another grunt of pleasure.
One side of my brain lusted after his heavy balls, but the other side was still in panic over the monster cock threatening to choke me to death. My free hand gripped the floor shift, hanging on desperately as his cock ravaged my mouth.
When he pulled out that time, I swallowed some of the slime coating the roof of my mouth and realized from the salty taste that it must be his precum. He had pumped enough pre-lube to smear my mouth with it!
The hand at the back of my head gripped my hair painfully as he sank himself into my face again. From the sound of his breathing, he was getting close to cumming though, and the muscles of his legs clamped my hand around his scrotum as he tightened up. Was he reaching his climax this soon? After only three or four strokes? Damn, he was horny!
Sure enough, when he reached maximum penetration, clogging my throat with his huge man meat, making it impossible for me to breathe again, instead of pulling out as before, he made short, jabbing thrusts, keeping his big dong deep inside my gullet.
"Unh-unh-unh-unh-unh," he grunted. Then, with a heroic thrust, he jammed his big dong deeper down my throat.
I had to have air! The huge pecker felt like it was all the way into my chest. I knew he was cumming, so my only hope was that he would be finished soon. Still holding his balls, I felt him trembling, but he stood like that for so long, I almost passed out from lack of oxygen. I don't know how much cum he pumped into my stomach, but when he finally pulled that big, thick snake out of my throat, he had enough sperm left to spurt a few gobs over my tongue. Salty. A taste like Clorox.
With a dazed recognition, I realized it was good stuff — I liked it!
He pulled out but left his throbbing dong in my mouth for a long time as he stood panting over me. "Uhhhh, fuuucccck," he sighed finally, then pulled the big, slimy, slowly softening thing out of my mouth. Then the heavy breathing cop looked down at me. "That was pretty good. Never knew you street rodders were so hot."
You know what? I missed his cock when he pulled it away, and it hit me: I liked sucking cock, and I didn't want this to end. "Anytime," I said, "anytime at all."
He gave me a grim smile as he tucked the big monster back into his pants. "You want more?" He chuckled. "Drive to Beck Street. There's an alley beside the Conestoga bar. It's just down the road. Meet me there."
My little Deuce coupe laid rubber all the way to the Conestoga bar, and I had a hard on all the way. I couldn't help stroking myself as I drove, which made quite a sight for a trucker I passed. He honked his horn when he looked down and saw me jacking off in my hot rod.
I pulled into the alley beside the bar, car exhausts growling, my balls humming and my dick harder than the steering column. I stopped the car and shut off the lights. A minute or two later, the big cop's motorcycle turned into the alley, and in the dim light, his all black uniform made him look like a soldier from hell. I almost came in my pants. I got out of the car to meet him. "Okay," he said, "let's go. We'll do it here."
"In a back alley?? Man, it's gross back here. The place is full of trash, and it smells like a dumpster!"
"Yeah, we'll do it here."
I figured what the hell, so I reached for his belt buckle. I had to get at that magnificent cock again, but he smacked my hand away and growled, "Strip."
"What? Take my clothes off? Out here in the dirt? Just to suck your — "
"Yeah! I like my meat bare."
I grumbled to myself. Damn, I had on my new pants, but I did as he ordered. In moments, my clothes were piled on the seat of my car and I stood stark naked in the darkness of the alley. Again, I reached for his crotch and that magical bulge, but once more he pushed my hand away. "Jack off for me," he said.
"Ah, c'mon, officer, I can pull my own pecker anytime!" He glared at me, though, so I stroked myself as he commanded. "Anything you say," I muttered, "but lemme hold your cock, too."
"Not yet. I want you hot and ready for the next step."
The next step? What, I have to jack off before the blowjob? After a minute or two, I was panting like a dog. "Okay, I'm hot and ready, Officer. Lemme see it," I begged. "I wanna suck it again." By then, I was leaning back against my red coupe, and my right hand was a jackhammer.
His mouth creased into a cruel smile. "Now suck yourself."
"What? Suck myself? My own dick? I can't do that."
"Yeah, you can. Do it!"
I never tried to bend over that tightly, but what the hell, the master has commanded. His alternatives to a traffic ticket so far were real turn-ons, so I slowly bent over.
At first, I couldn't get my mouth close enough to touch my own cock, but I kept trying. Although it grew painful, gradually my lips moved closer until finally, my tongue licked my cockhead. I kept going, bending tighter and tighter, until finally I got my cockhead in my mouth.
Damn, sucking my own cock! The touch of my lips thrilled me, almost like a stranger's lips giving me a blowjob, and I catapulted into orgasm mode. When I went over the edge, jets of my own jizz spurted into my mouth. I hadn't planned on tasting big globs of my own spunk. My sperm tasted salty with a hint of Clorox, like the sputum from the cop's big dong, but my jizz had something else, something meaty, something familiar. He knew I was cumming. "Swallow it," he demanded, and I gulped my own sperm. I would never forget this night.
As I straightened up painfully from my newest experience, I saw the cop had dropped his black riding pants and his jockstrap to his knees, and there it was, the world's most fabulous cock, up and locked, hard and ready. Even though I had just shot my load and logically should have been shrinking, my cock stood at attention for him again.
I tried to kneel, the better to take that big fucker into my mouth, but he seized my arm. Standing straight and tall, he looked down at me. "Get up here on this," he ordered, "and take it up your ass." He released my arm and unrolled a rubber over his big dick.
I gasped. "W-What? Take it in. . . m-my ass!!?" I couldn't believe my ears. "You want to stick that big thing — "
"In your backdoor!" he roared. "Now get up here and fuck it!"
I had heard of this, of course. I knew how men had sex with each other. But I was scared. "Climb up?" I squeaked. "While you're standing there?"
"You heard me! Climb up!"
The big stud would support both my weight and his? And all that while I hung on and lowered my butthole over his burgeoning cock. Was he that strong? "Shouldn't I get down," I quavered, "on my hands and — "
"I said climb up here," he roared!
I grabbed onto his broad shoulders and jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist, holding on as if he were a tree trunk. His leather jacket was soft under my gripping fingertips, and my legs around his waist felt his body heat.
I climbed higher on his torso, lifted my ass over his big up-jutting cock, then slowly lowered it, reaching under to aim his meat at my asshole. When it touched my bull's-eye, I shivered, but I obediently lowered myself onto it.
A flash of pain reddened everything in my vision. His huge bar spread me open like an umbrella rammed closed up my ass and then opened. It hurt so bad I was on the verge of pulling off, begging that I couldn't take it, but then I looked into his face.
Ecstasy. His eyes were closed and his face glowed with the expression of an angel. Yeah, I remembered the most pleasurable moment in fucking: the sliding in. Knowing I turned him on so powerfully, though, changed my whole perspective. He might own the world's most fabulous cock, but I could turn him on! I continued to skewer myself on his big poker, ignoring the pain.
What a day. I'd never sucked a cock before but found out I loved it. I'd never been fucked in the ass before but something about servicing this big cop made it all worthwhile.
I felt him so deep inside my guts, my brain panicked.
Gradually, gradually, gradually my sphincter and my guts adjusted to the invader, and the pain died away to a banked fire. Hey, I can take this! Then he growled, "Awright, start fucking."
I was completely off the ground, literally sitting on the man's hard dong, and he supporting me as if I were weightless! I pulled myself up higher, pulling his dick back out of my ass with a slick, greasy sound, then sat back down, sinking him in to the hilt again. He grunted with pleasure.
Damn, what a way to fuck! Again I rose up, again I sank back, over and over, up and down, up and down . . . and the more I did it, the more the pain faded away until I actually began to enjoy the process. My own dick had softened at the pain of his initial entry, but with every stroke of his giant penis up into my guts, I liked it more and I began to notice a very pleasurable feeling as my newly hardened cock rubbed up against the black leather of his jacket.
Up and down, up and down, I made his cock go in and out, in and out, and after a few dozen strokes, I saw the passion building in him. His pupils dilated, his breathing grew more labored, and he began to tremble. Finally, he croaked, "Unh, yeahhhhh," and his cock swelled even bigger; but by then I was past pain and the increasing size was only a weird sense of privilege.
He came again. I didn't think I would feel it but the contractions of his balls were so strong I felt the jerks of his cock and I could imagine the boiling jets of semen pumping into the rubber. Over and over and over he ejaculated — damn, this boy was a jizz pump — and I knew the condom would be as big as a baseball when he pulled it out.
Meanwhile, my own pecker-head, rubbing against the black leather, reached critical mass, and with a groan, I spurted my own jizz all over the front of his jacket. He didn't complain, though. He was in another world, still cumming inside me.
The man packed quite a load. He pumped out a boxcar load of sperm, then held me close, stopping my motion on him, holding his penis in me as he trembled with the power of his afterglow. I don't know how long we stood like that — one man holding another completely off the ground — but finally I sensed his rod soften and grow smaller and I knew the end had come.
He relaxed his grip on me and lowered me to my feet. I saw the rubber was so full, it sagged down and slipped off his dong of its own weight, trailing a long streamer of white sperm to the ground from the tip of his prick in a long, pearly tendril.
Then I looked at his jacket and saw my revenge. Big, white strings of cum smeared across the black leather, some looping wetly across his badge, and suddenly I knew what started out so fine could end up even worse — I could trade a traffic ticket for a trip to jail for cumming on a policeman's jacket.
Desperately, I knelt to suck his sagging organ, anything to keep his attention from his jacket. "Can't get enough, huh?" he snickered, and truth to tell, having the fat organ in my mouth again did give me a thrill. When I finally licked his dick clean, it was beginning to grow again, but he stepped back, tucked it in, and zipped up.
"It's been a pleasure, sir," he said in an official voice. "See you again sometime." He still hadn't noticed my sperm gobs decorating the front of his jacket, so I said nothing. He climbed onto his motorcycle, started it, and rode away. I climbed into my little Deuce coupe and rode sore-assed all the way home.
I haven't seen that cop since, but now I drive the hot rod everywhere I go, always trying to look into the face of every motorcycle cop I pass, hoping one will recognize the car and follow me. I know that somewhere out there, the world's hottest, greatest cock waits inside a pair of black riding pants, and if he wants to take his revenge for a motorist sperming on his uniform, my ass is ready for him.
By Jim Diamond
I sat quietly in the car, wondering what in hell to do — I couldn't afford a ticket, but he had me dead to rights; my '32 Ford street rod was doing 65 in a 45 mph zone. I couldn't help it. When I hear that blower whine and the dual pipes roaring, I can't keep my foot off the gas. Next thing I knew, I had a cycle cop on my tail, lights flashing, and when I pulled over, I knew he wasn't going to ask me to buy tickets to the policemen's ball.
I checked the mirror. The night was dark, but I could see the cop leaning his motorcycle on its kickstand and taking out his ticket book. Damn, this was bad. Cops have hated cars with no fenders ever since the golden days of hot rods in the '50s.
He was a big guy, this motorcycle cop, tall and broad shouldered — a Green Bay Packers linebacker in a black leather uniform — and he walked up to my car with a proud strut. He leaned down to the window of my little Deuce coupe and demanded my license and registration. As I fished the license out of my wallet, I started in with the humility routine: "Officer, I'm really, really sorry!?"
And that was the truth. Getting a ticket would put me in a big jam. My insurance rates would go up, my employer would bitch, and so on. He must have read the panic in my face. He smiled. "This is a good looking car, and you hot rodders would rather work on an engine than get a ticket, right?"
His voice was low and deep, and in spite of the panic in my head, one side of my brain noticed the guy was a real hunk — his face was broad and German looking with blond hair but with sharp Latin angles and dark eyes, sort of a cross between a Terminator and a rock star — handsome in a satanic, cruel way. He smiled, waiting for my answer. Nice white teeth. I was surprised they weren't sharpened to points.
"No, Officer, I don't want a ticket. A ticket would really fuck me up. I'm sorry I was speeding. It won't happen again, I swear!'
He ran his hand over the candy apple red paint of the door. "Nice car, real nice," said the deep voice, "but that's too bad. You've got to pay for what you did."
What a bastard! Inside every cop is a sadistic motherfucker trying to get out. He wasn't really admiring my car either. He didn't know shit about hot rods, he just wanted to watch me squirm. Then he lowered his voice to a wicked purr and said, "How'd you like to suck my cock?"
I turned the idea over in my head. I had never sucked a cock, never done anything like that. I never took part in the circle jerks when I was a Boy Scout, and I was never invited to the J/O parties in high school. I jacked off a lot though, and I had to admit to a curiosity about playing with another man's peter.
Now the chance stood right outside my car door. What would it feel like to get this big cop's big pecker in my mouth? I stared straight ahead and took a deep breath. "Okay," I croaked. "Let's see it."
His pen stopped scratching in the ticket book. I heard the sound of a zipper, then the squeak of leather. I turned my head, and there, right at face level, was the biggest cock I ever saw. My mouth dropped open more from shock than lust.
The deep voiced cop had a dong that looked 10 inches long, and I swear the fucking thing was as big around as a beer bottle. It jutted in through the window of my hot rod, casting a moon shadow on the leatherette tuck 'n' roll upholstery. He was uncircumcised, and a leathery foreskin shrouded his cockhead, giving me just a peek at the tip. I smelled the musky odor of a sweaty crotch. The black hole at the end of his cock reminded me of the muzzle of his .38 pistol, and I stared like a deer caught in the headlights. "Awright," he growled, "suck it."
As I opened my mouth, he put his hand behind my head and yanked me toward him. As the huge pecker head passed my lips, it was so big it spread my jaws, and the friction against my lips stripped back his foreskin. The first surprise was that it was so warm, surely hotter than 98.6.
As it clogged the back of my throat, my brain screamed, It's too big! I can't suck that thing, it's . . . . Mmmfgh! He rammed the huge penis past the back of my mouth and down my throat. It spread my jaws even wider, to the point of pain. Taking the monstrous shaft in my mouth was like trying to swallow a huge, hot salami.
"Unnnnh, yeahhhh," he purred, then he pulled it back out, but not quite all the way. He left the cockhead between my lips. I automatically licked his slimy knob. Then with another lunge, he sank it into my throat again, and at deepest penetration, he gave another happy grunt. Then he pulled it back out. With instincts I never dreamed I had, my tongue drilled at the sensitive skin of his trigger, and I felt him tremble. I knew how to pleasure a man!
Once more his hips lunged powerfully, jamming the huge thing down my throat. I don't know what came over me — I thought I was miserable and suffering — but my left hand reached out, pulled his pants open a bit more, and reached in to fondle his balls. He wore a jockstrap and had pulled the pouch aside to get his cock out. His testicles were like big ping pong balls beside the deflated strap. They floated in his hairy sack like big goldfish squirming past my probing fingers. As I fondled that mighty pair, he let out another grunt of pleasure.
One side of my brain lusted after his heavy balls, but the other side was still in panic over the monster cock threatening to choke me to death. My free hand gripped the floor shift, hanging on desperately as his cock ravaged my mouth.
When he pulled out that time, I swallowed some of the slime coating the roof of my mouth and realized from the salty taste that it must be his precum. He had pumped enough pre-lube to smear my mouth with it!
The hand at the back of my head gripped my hair painfully as he sank himself into my face again. From the sound of his breathing, he was getting close to cumming though, and the muscles of his legs clamped my hand around his scrotum as he tightened up. Was he reaching his climax this soon? After only three or four strokes? Damn, he was horny!
Sure enough, when he reached maximum penetration, clogging my throat with his huge man meat, making it impossible for me to breathe again, instead of pulling out as before, he made short, jabbing thrusts, keeping his big dong deep inside my gullet.
"Unh-unh-unh-unh-unh," he grunted. Then, with a heroic thrust, he jammed his big dong deeper down my throat.
I had to have air! The huge pecker felt like it was all the way into my chest. I knew he was cumming, so my only hope was that he would be finished soon. Still holding his balls, I felt him trembling, but he stood like that for so long, I almost passed out from lack of oxygen. I don't know how much cum he pumped into my stomach, but when he finally pulled that big, thick snake out of my throat, he had enough sperm left to spurt a few gobs over my tongue. Salty. A taste like Clorox.
With a dazed recognition, I realized it was good stuff — I liked it!
He pulled out but left his throbbing dong in my mouth for a long time as he stood panting over me. "Uhhhh, fuuucccck," he sighed finally, then pulled the big, slimy, slowly softening thing out of my mouth. Then the heavy breathing cop looked down at me. "That was pretty good. Never knew you street rodders were so hot."
You know what? I missed his cock when he pulled it away, and it hit me: I liked sucking cock, and I didn't want this to end. "Anytime," I said, "anytime at all."
He gave me a grim smile as he tucked the big monster back into his pants. "You want more?" He chuckled. "Drive to Beck Street. There's an alley beside the Conestoga bar. It's just down the road. Meet me there."
My little Deuce coupe laid rubber all the way to the Conestoga bar, and I had a hard on all the way. I couldn't help stroking myself as I drove, which made quite a sight for a trucker I passed. He honked his horn when he looked down and saw me jacking off in my hot rod.
I pulled into the alley beside the bar, car exhausts growling, my balls humming and my dick harder than the steering column. I stopped the car and shut off the lights. A minute or two later, the big cop's motorcycle turned into the alley, and in the dim light, his all black uniform made him look like a soldier from hell. I almost came in my pants. I got out of the car to meet him. "Okay," he said, "let's go. We'll do it here."
"In a back alley?? Man, it's gross back here. The place is full of trash, and it smells like a dumpster!"
"Yeah, we'll do it here."
I figured what the hell, so I reached for his belt buckle. I had to get at that magnificent cock again, but he smacked my hand away and growled, "Strip."
"What? Take my clothes off? Out here in the dirt? Just to suck your — "
"Yeah! I like my meat bare."
I grumbled to myself. Damn, I had on my new pants, but I did as he ordered. In moments, my clothes were piled on the seat of my car and I stood stark naked in the darkness of the alley. Again, I reached for his crotch and that magical bulge, but once more he pushed my hand away. "Jack off for me," he said.
"Ah, c'mon, officer, I can pull my own pecker anytime!" He glared at me, though, so I stroked myself as he commanded. "Anything you say," I muttered, "but lemme hold your cock, too."
"Not yet. I want you hot and ready for the next step."
The next step? What, I have to jack off before the blowjob? After a minute or two, I was panting like a dog. "Okay, I'm hot and ready, Officer. Lemme see it," I begged. "I wanna suck it again." By then, I was leaning back against my red coupe, and my right hand was a jackhammer.
His mouth creased into a cruel smile. "Now suck yourself."
"What? Suck myself? My own dick? I can't do that."
"Yeah, you can. Do it!"
I never tried to bend over that tightly, but what the hell, the master has commanded. His alternatives to a traffic ticket so far were real turn-ons, so I slowly bent over.
At first, I couldn't get my mouth close enough to touch my own cock, but I kept trying. Although it grew painful, gradually my lips moved closer until finally, my tongue licked my cockhead. I kept going, bending tighter and tighter, until finally I got my cockhead in my mouth.
Damn, sucking my own cock! The touch of my lips thrilled me, almost like a stranger's lips giving me a blowjob, and I catapulted into orgasm mode. When I went over the edge, jets of my own jizz spurted into my mouth. I hadn't planned on tasting big globs of my own spunk. My sperm tasted salty with a hint of Clorox, like the sputum from the cop's big dong, but my jizz had something else, something meaty, something familiar. He knew I was cumming. "Swallow it," he demanded, and I gulped my own sperm. I would never forget this night.
As I straightened up painfully from my newest experience, I saw the cop had dropped his black riding pants and his jockstrap to his knees, and there it was, the world's most fabulous cock, up and locked, hard and ready. Even though I had just shot my load and logically should have been shrinking, my cock stood at attention for him again.
I tried to kneel, the better to take that big fucker into my mouth, but he seized my arm. Standing straight and tall, he looked down at me. "Get up here on this," he ordered, "and take it up your ass." He released my arm and unrolled a rubber over his big dick.
I gasped. "W-What? Take it in. . . m-my ass!!?" I couldn't believe my ears. "You want to stick that big thing — "
"In your backdoor!" he roared. "Now get up here and fuck it!"
I had heard of this, of course. I knew how men had sex with each other. But I was scared. "Climb up?" I squeaked. "While you're standing there?"
"You heard me! Climb up!"
The big stud would support both my weight and his? And all that while I hung on and lowered my butthole over his burgeoning cock. Was he that strong? "Shouldn't I get down," I quavered, "on my hands and — "
"I said climb up here," he roared!
I grabbed onto his broad shoulders and jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist, holding on as if he were a tree trunk. His leather jacket was soft under my gripping fingertips, and my legs around his waist felt his body heat.
I climbed higher on his torso, lifted my ass over his big up-jutting cock, then slowly lowered it, reaching under to aim his meat at my asshole. When it touched my bull's-eye, I shivered, but I obediently lowered myself onto it.
A flash of pain reddened everything in my vision. His huge bar spread me open like an umbrella rammed closed up my ass and then opened. It hurt so bad I was on the verge of pulling off, begging that I couldn't take it, but then I looked into his face.
Ecstasy. His eyes were closed and his face glowed with the expression of an angel. Yeah, I remembered the most pleasurable moment in fucking: the sliding in. Knowing I turned him on so powerfully, though, changed my whole perspective. He might own the world's most fabulous cock, but I could turn him on! I continued to skewer myself on his big poker, ignoring the pain.
What a day. I'd never sucked a cock before but found out I loved it. I'd never been fucked in the ass before but something about servicing this big cop made it all worthwhile.
I felt him so deep inside my guts, my brain panicked.
Gradually, gradually, gradually my sphincter and my guts adjusted to the invader, and the pain died away to a banked fire. Hey, I can take this! Then he growled, "Awright, start fucking."
I was completely off the ground, literally sitting on the man's hard dong, and he supporting me as if I were weightless! I pulled myself up higher, pulling his dick back out of my ass with a slick, greasy sound, then sat back down, sinking him in to the hilt again. He grunted with pleasure.
Damn, what a way to fuck! Again I rose up, again I sank back, over and over, up and down, up and down . . . and the more I did it, the more the pain faded away until I actually began to enjoy the process. My own dick had softened at the pain of his initial entry, but with every stroke of his giant penis up into my guts, I liked it more and I began to notice a very pleasurable feeling as my newly hardened cock rubbed up against the black leather of his jacket.
Up and down, up and down, I made his cock go in and out, in and out, and after a few dozen strokes, I saw the passion building in him. His pupils dilated, his breathing grew more labored, and he began to tremble. Finally, he croaked, "Unh, yeahhhhh," and his cock swelled even bigger; but by then I was past pain and the increasing size was only a weird sense of privilege.
He came again. I didn't think I would feel it but the contractions of his balls were so strong I felt the jerks of his cock and I could imagine the boiling jets of semen pumping into the rubber. Over and over and over he ejaculated — damn, this boy was a jizz pump — and I knew the condom would be as big as a baseball when he pulled it out.
Meanwhile, my own pecker-head, rubbing against the black leather, reached critical mass, and with a groan, I spurted my own jizz all over the front of his jacket. He didn't complain, though. He was in another world, still cumming inside me.
The man packed quite a load. He pumped out a boxcar load of sperm, then held me close, stopping my motion on him, holding his penis in me as he trembled with the power of his afterglow. I don't know how long we stood like that — one man holding another completely off the ground — but finally I sensed his rod soften and grow smaller and I knew the end had come.
He relaxed his grip on me and lowered me to my feet. I saw the rubber was so full, it sagged down and slipped off his dong of its own weight, trailing a long streamer of white sperm to the ground from the tip of his prick in a long, pearly tendril.
Then I looked at his jacket and saw my revenge. Big, white strings of cum smeared across the black leather, some looping wetly across his badge, and suddenly I knew what started out so fine could end up even worse — I could trade a traffic ticket for a trip to jail for cumming on a policeman's jacket.
Desperately, I knelt to suck his sagging organ, anything to keep his attention from his jacket. "Can't get enough, huh?" he snickered, and truth to tell, having the fat organ in my mouth again did give me a thrill. When I finally licked his dick clean, it was beginning to grow again, but he stepped back, tucked it in, and zipped up.
"It's been a pleasure, sir," he said in an official voice. "See you again sometime." He still hadn't noticed my sperm gobs decorating the front of his jacket, so I said nothing. He climbed onto his motorcycle, started it, and rode away. I climbed into my little Deuce coupe and rode sore-assed all the way home.
I haven't seen that cop since, but now I drive the hot rod everywhere I go, always trying to look into the face of every motorcycle cop I pass, hoping one will recognize the car and follow me. I know that somewhere out there, the world's hottest, greatest cock waits inside a pair of black riding pants, and if he wants to take his revenge for a motorist sperming on his uniform, my ass is ready for him.
Jo
- 02.12.2021
- 24
- 0
