Does That Do It For You?

My name is Ahmet Ali. I just finished a law lecture at the university I attend, when on the road home a black sedan came to a screeching halt next to me. Three men in dark suits jumped out and knocked me to the ground. Before I could scream, one slipped a black hood over my head. There must have been something in there because the next thing I know I woke up in a police interrogation room, handcuffed to a chair.

"What the fuck?" I moaned to myself as my head began to clear.

Suddenly the door to the room was pulled open and a blond lady in a dark suit stepped in, "He's awake!" She yelled. A second later in walked a stern, middle aged man in the same dark suit.

"Ahmed Ali, you are here by charged under the Terrorism Act. If you do not cooperate in the absolute fullest, all your rights as a citizen will be voided," the man belted out.

"What?" I groaned. "Did you say Ahmet Ali or Ahmed Ali?"

The two agents looked at each other.

"Ahmed Ali. Born 2002 in Syria?" asked the woman.

"No. I'm Ahmet with a 'T'. I was born in London. My parents are Turkish."

"It's not him," said the woman.

"We can't run that risk. The stakes are too high. We must be 100% sure," said the man.

"But all we have to ID Ali is that damn semen sample," she hissed.

"Then we get a fucking semen sample," the man shot back before he, straddled my chair, and roughly pulled my trousers and boxers to the floor. Then he uncuffed my right hand. "Now give us a fucking semen sample, or I swear to God that I will deport you back to from where you came."

"London?" I answered, before out of fear I grabbed a hold of my limp cock and tried to get something started, but nothing happened.

"For fuck sake," the man complained before he turned to the woman. "You are going to have to suck him off."

"I will not!" she complained.

"If we don't get the sample now, people will die," he told her.

"Fine," she huffed before she pulled her blond hair back and started to go down on her knees.

"No! No! No!" I screamed. "I'm gay! I'm gay!" I began to sob at being outed in such a horrible way. "I haven't even told my family yet."

The woman stepped back.

The man just crossed his arms and said, "we don't have time to fuck around. Top or bottom?"

"What?" I asked confused.

"Are you a top or a bottom?" he demanded.

"Top, I guess," I managed to get out.

"Fine, but I'm not sucking you off." He blurted out as he dragged the table in front of me. Then he kicked off his shoes, dropped his slacks and underwear. He quickly climbed up onto the table, laid down and pulled his knees back to his chest. He had a chubby cock, heavy balls, and the crack of his arse was dark and hairy.

"Does that do it for you?" he demanded.

To my surprise it did. My cock was starting to grow hard, and I began to stroke myself.

With his free hands he pulled his arse open even further, and with his index finger he began to rub his dry hole. "I'm running dry here. Give me a little spit," he demand of the woman who was watching the affair with wide eyes.

With out hesitating she stepped forward and spit onto his hole.

I was now fully erect.

"Does that get your dick hard you dirty fucking terrorist?" he demanded as he rubbed his hole, before he slipped his finger inside up to the second knuckle.

"Oh no!" I spluttered as the first stream of cum jumped from my cock.

"He's cumming!" the woman shouted as she pulled out a vial from her jacket.

"Get a sample and get it to the lab!" the man shouted as he roughly pulled his finger from his arse.

The lady swooped in and caught my last two shots in the vial, and then scraped up the rest from where it fell on my legs. "Got it!" she screamed as she ran from the room.

The man tumbled off the table and ran for the door without even bothering to put his trousers back on, while I sat there trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.