Straight Cop Loses Control

Straight Cop Loses Control

Gulf Coast Trooper craves the bottom

Most folks passing a State Trooper cruiser parked beside a county road will slow down and hope they're not doing anything illegal. If they're in southern Alabama, none suspect what waits inside that patrol car, champing at the bit, restless, growling, eager get out, to go wild.

Ever been to Gulf Coast Alabama? Yeah, yeah, they call it the Redneck Riviera, but let's face it—Gulf Beach, Orange Beach, Perdido Key, all those places are exactly like beach-spa locations anywhere in the world: beachfront skyscraper hotels, five-star seafood restaurants, and major-star concerts, but the real difference is miles and miles of the sugar-white sand that washes ashore only here. Most beautiful beaches in the world.

The titanic oil spill off Louisiana is a downer right now, but the beaches are scrubbed every time tar balls arrive, and as the tortoise says, "This in time will pass."

I like the job as an Alabama State Trooper. I've always wanted to be a policeman. Interesting job. Never can tell what will happen on patrol. I'm always learning something. It's dangerous sometimes, of course, but I'm 6'2" and weigh 275 pounds. I work out with the weights every day, and I have a Karate blackbelt.

Modern felons, though, are often equipped with firearms (great equalizers), so a cop can never be overconfident. Just careful. I have just one problem. I can assert my authority, and I can tell the perps what to do. It's just that somehow, deep inside me is a craving I can't deny.

For me now, sex with women is second-rate, nothing like the fiery passion of a man thrusting up inside me, pumping my guts full of his boiling jism. I'm a bottom. I've known that for a long time, and for as much as I fight it, sometimes I just can't control myself.

I know what would happen: scandal, thrown out of the police, probably a jail sentence. And disease. Cops get physicals and AIDS checks at least once a year. But civilians don't, and that's a problem because when I get seduced by the side of the road, the guy never has a rubber, and when he's got the Urge roaring up in me, I've got to have it, bareback or not.

I fight it, I truly do, but I can't think straight. Fuck, the guy's getting a hardon! So am I! And that's the trigger. A hard cock. If I know the guy's getting one, the Urge explodes in me like a forest fire.

I didn't start off this way. Honest, I didn't. I had girlfriends, even visited a whorehouse or two. Then one day I had some bad luck. The antenna on my patrol car was on the blink, so I pulled over to the side of the road, a lonely gravel road way back in the country. I got the tool box out, and while I was tinkering with it, a guy came up quietly behind me, grabbed me, and hit me in the head with something, knocking me out.

I woke up back in the woods. I had a headache, but that quickly dropped to "minor problem." I was on my back in the grass, my hands cuffed around a small treetrunk behind my head, and I was naked. Oh, shit.

My legs were tied, but not together. A rope loop tightly gripped each ankle, and the ropes were pulled up into the branches of the tree behind me. Oh, double-shit.

"Been a-waitin' for ya to wake up, cop. Never thought this day'd come, but now I'm getting me a little payback." Ugly bastard. Broken nose. Beady eyes. He was naked, too. And stroking his cock. Triple-shit!

I was in one hell of a fix. "You touch me, and I'll kill you!"

"Yeah, right." He smiled down. "Know what I'm doin', cop? I ain't gonna just fuck ya. We're gonna go slow. I'm gonna make ya like it." The smile again. "I'm gonna break ya, cop. Ya'll gonna be my bitch."

Then I got an eerie, deep-gut fear. When he dropped down and crawled between my legs, his cock grew harder, and damn, it looked huge. I never really paid all that much attention to guys' cocks before. "No! No, please!" I didn't really want to say that, but it came out in a desperate gasp. Oh, god, he's going to stick that big thing in me! And I'm helpless!

He was breathing harder, excited about getting to fuck a cop. I panted, too, but not from eagerness. I was scared shitless. He pulled the ropes, yanking my feet up over my head, my legs spreading apart. Oh shit, oh shit, now it comes!

Everything was spinning, reeling around me like a kaleidoscope—Fuck, maybe he doped me while I was still out cold. Rolled up like a donut, my ass was open to him. He spread my legs even further with his hands. Here it comes, here it comes, that big cock is going to fuck me!

But I was astonished when his head bent down, burying his face in my upturned ass. I felt his lips, then his tongue stabbed into my asshole! For one insane instant, I thought he was going to rape me with his tongue, not his cock, and would that still be rape?

But I'd heard about "rimming." Disgusting. Licking at somebody's filthy rectum. But suddenly an overwhelming sensation roared up from my asshole, and in astonishment I stopped struggling! My brain caught fire! Incredible! My head rolled back, my body trembling with the sizzling feeling. God, my asshole can give me such a shattering thrill?

After a few minutes of his electric tongue circling and diddling at my hole, I could hardly breathe. Lightning bolts shot up from my writhing, winking ass-ring, and I was hotter, hornier than I'd ever been! Never felt anything like that in my life!

He got to me: my cock hardened into an iron stake, stiffer than my pistol barrel (and thicker, too, I might add). If he planned to turn me on, he'd done it. Deep inside I was ashamed, but I couldn't deny I loved what he was doing to me! He'd made me mega-horny and had me right where he wanted me.

When he finally rose up from my buzzing asshole, he shook his cock at me, and I knew the time had come. I felt shame that I was so horny, so aroused, so craving sex, but I wasn't exactly sorry. I wasn't afraid anymore. More like uncertain. How's he going to get that big thing in me? I knew I was a goner. No escape. It was going to happen. I had accepted it.

I was outraged, of course, but by then just a tiny bit—if not eager, at least interested.

Dead leaves crackled as he got into position, smiling down at me as he wiped my ass with Vaseline, then coated his cock with it, glowing with a conqueror's pride.

Slowly parting my legs again, he mounted—"Cain't tell ya how great it is to git in the saddle of a cop." I shut my eyes. I couldn't stand to look into his face as he did to me what no man should do to another.

His cockhead pressed against my straining-shut asshole. Ouch! But I didn't say anything. Wouldn't give him the pleasure. He shoved harder, and then I gasped with pain. "Gotta relax, man. More ya fight it, more it hurts." His voice was soft, deep, masculine. "Push out, like taking a shit. Makes it easier." He knew what he was doing. I was the inexperienced kid, the frightened virgin.

I tried it. Pushed out. That did it—with a yipe! of pain, his cockhead popped inside! "I'm in," he murmured. "Ya'll fucked now, cop. I'm your first." I opened my eyes, and he smiled down at me. "Ya'll never gonna forget me."

Breathing, panting, I managed to gasp—"Fucking right—never—forget you—you're—dead man!"

He didn't move for a while, and gradually I guess my asshole "got used to a dick in it." The pain lessened. Then he shoved in a couple of inches, and Agh! the pain again! Then another pause, and again the pain faded away. Over what felt like hours, we went through that lunge-yelp-rest cycle, and with every lunge the new pain was a little less, and I closed my eyes again—partly from the pain but more and more because of—No! I can not admit it! Pleasure.

Finally I felt his hips bang into my buttocks, and "That's it, cop, all the way in. Ya'll took my whole cock!"

I did? I took that huge thing up my ass? By then it didn't hurt. For a moment a strange little pride flickered in my head, then I mentally slapped myself—What am I, a queer already?? Get a grip, idiot!

"Now it gits better." His voice was a deep, panting whisper. He began to pull his cock out, slowly, slowly, and instead of pain at each movement, the opposite friction through my guts and through my tight-stretched asshole was a thrilling, wonderful, delicious pleasure!

No, no, no! This can't be happening! But it was true! The most thrilling sensation I'd ever had and all of it coming from my asshole. Incredible! Unbelievable! After he'd pumped me four or five times (and the in-lunges were just as pleasurable as the out-strokes), I was breathing hard and couldn't stop my hips from lunging back at him.

Then he started talking dirty. "Looks like ya'll's a natural, cop. A fucking cum-slut gittin' his first fuckin'. Feel that big cock reamin' ya out? Like it, dontcha? I'm fixin' to fill ya so full o' cum, ya be shittin' my jism for days." And that turned me on even more. I couldn't help it—I was powerless to resist, and the man was pushing me beyond the limits of my own body, teaching me things no man should learn, and—"Ya'll never forget this, cop! I be fuckin' ya, makin' ya my bitch! And ya like it! I can tell ya do!"

Ohmigod, he's right! I like it, I love it! And he's slamming me harder, slugging that big fucking thing in me so hard he's shaking my whole body, knocking me loose, knocking me up! And with that, I lost all control. Without touching my cock, hard and throbbing, bouncing against my belly and coating me with precum, I shot off into the greatest, most titanic orgasm of my whole fucking life!

Like a tidal wave it swept over me! Unspeakable, insane pleasures from both my asshole and my cock and balls, combining like lava flows to turn me into a solid mass of ecstasy. His masterful fuck lunges also pistoned me into the longest orgasm ever. It went on for minutes and minutes and minutes! I writhed and squirmed, humping back at him, gurgling wordless grunts and groans, my body so outrageously pleasured, it was a fucking life-changing event.

I was just about to pass out, but then the guy let out the Stallion-shout: "Cumming! Ah, god, Cumming!!" He rammed that magnificent cock up me so far it rattled my backbone.

I felt it. Boiling gobs of sperm shooting up inside me. His seed. He's breeding me. I've got a man's jism up my guts! He had me. Conquered me. I was fucked.

He got up, pulling out that big cock, and I got one last thrill as it slid out and away. I felt empty. And I felt something drooling out of my ass. God, I was ashamed.

He loosened the ropes, lowering my legs. "So whatcha think, cop? Ya'll liked it, didn'tcha?"

Damn, he knew. I said nothing. But both of us knew the truth. I liked it. I liked it a hell of a lot.

He gathered up his clothes and stepped behind the tree. "I'm a-puttin' the handcuffs key right here by your hand, cop. You can git yourself loose." Then he disappeared behind me in the woods.

I took the key and raced like a madman to open the handcuffs. I sat up, took the ropes off my legs, and stood up. My uniform was in a pile behind the tree. Even my pistol belt and the weapon. My wallet was gone, though, the bastard.

I got dressed and looked around in the woods for a while, but he was long gone. I walked back out to the street, and there was the cruiser. I drove back into town to turn it in with "Nonfunctional radio." That was also my excuse for being out of touch for so long.

I couldn't sleep that night. I'd passed a fork in the road. This secret is going to the grave with me. And I felt even more shame because. . .I knew I liked it! Most overwhelming sexual experience of my life.

In the coming weeks, as much as I tried to "go back to normal," I was a changed man. God, had I ever learned something!

On my day off I went to the beach. The oil slick was cleaned away, and the sand was beautiful, pure white. I'm not pure white anymore. A man fucked me. I wondered if I would ever get over it, ever forgive myself.

But there was something else: the beach was full of beautiful women in string bikinis. . .but I also noticed many of them had boyfriends with them. Most of the boyfriends wore boxer swimming suits, but a few wore Speedos. I found myself staring at those guys—or trying not to.

Man, a Speedo really shows off the package. One guy had a big one. Like a fist inside his trunks. When he saw me looking, he grinned and reached down. He groped himself for a second, and when his hand came away, he had a hardon!

God, it was big. Huge bulge, huge! It was. . .magnificent. I felt my face getting hot and knew I was blushing, so I got up and walked away.

But I had a boner, myself, and I couldn't get over what I'd just thought—it was magnificent. I couldn't even remember what the woman looked like. Churning with embarrassment and shame, I drove away from the beach and went back to my apartment. Stayed inside for the rest of the day.

Back on duty, patrolling the roads, I was fighting to keep the new emotions under control. With any car I pulled over, I was strictly business. Can't help looking at the driver's lap, though—if nothing else than to make sure he doesn't have a weapon down there.

But sometimes I saw weapons. Big bulges. Once even the salami bulge of a guy with a hardon down the leg of his pants. I was lucky to escape. I gave out the ticket and watched him drive away.

I felt it growing inside me. The Urge. Getting hornier every day. And not for a woman. I gnashed my teeth in shame, but I knew What I want is a cock up my ass, a man fucking me!

As the days went by, when I looked in the car window at some hot, sweaty farm worker, I struggled not to look down at his package. But I always did, and there it was, bulging, a mound between his legs.

The hornier I got, I guess the more "signs" I let show. A guy caught me looking, and reached down to "adjust" himself. My mouth went dry, the Urge took over, and somehow the bastard knew. He pulled down his zipper and pulled out a very handsome, very hard cock.

Couldn't control myself. Had to have it. He opened the car door, and I dropped to my knees. I'd never sucked a cock before, but somehow I had new instincts, and it might be like a foreplay, a step to get him to fuck me.

Absolutely out of my mind, I opened my mouth and sucked in that big thing, slobbering and licking all over it. I had no experience in sucking cocks, so I mouthed and sucked on the head while he stroked the shaft, and ka-blam! I got gushes of sperm. Not a bad taste, really—but then, I like anything to do with a hard cock. I swallowed it all down. Fabulous! God, I love sex with men!

To my eternal shame, sucking his cock and his cum down my throat actually drove me into an orgasm! I cummed in my pants.

"Thanks, Officer. Ya'll kin pull me over anytime!" Knowing I was just a cocksucker, he shoved me back onto my ass in the dirt, pulled the car door shut, and drove away.

Damn, was I glad I had on the dark uniform--big circle of wet at my crotch. I staggered back to the patrol car, repenting, swearing I would never again, actually slapping my own face for becoming. . .I had to admit it—a queer.

But I can't help it. Getting fucked is better than fucking because from both asshole and cock, I get double the pleasure. As time went by, I got more speeders and other traffic offenders to let me suck their cocks, and one fine day I actually got one to take me into the bed of his pickup and fuck me.

I'm a cum-slut; I know it. When a man humps my ass, I never fail to light up on both sides. The lunges of a cock through my asshole always drives me into an orgasm whether I touch my cock or not.

I got another, weird problem. I am the cop. I have the authority. I'm the one speaking in a loud voice. Even if indeed I get the man to open his pants for me, he'll be intimidated by my size, my loud voice, and the badge. So my sex life is rather complicated.

I can go a few weeks, maybe even a month or two, but then the Urge comes back. I can't keep it away, not forever, not even for very long, no matter how hard I fight it. A week ago I pulled over a Mercedes-Benz doing 80 on one of those country roads.

As I walked up to the car and looked in, I knew I was in trouble. The man wore tennis clothes—white sweater, white shorts—a Southern Gentleman, a guy about 40, and handsome. Face like an older Sean Penn. And well built. No! No, don't do it!

I looked.

Shit! Between his legs in those tight, white cotton shorts, was a bulge! The sight hit me like a club. The Mercedes tennis-guy was hung better than I'd seen in years!

As I looked, it moved. Swelled. He's getting a hardon! Once again my mouth went dry. I've got to have him! Got to suck that cock!

I stood up and cleared my throat. "Get out of the car, sir."

"W-what? What for?"

"I had you clocked at 80 miles an hour! Please step back to the patrol car."

He trudged back to my car, I opened the back door, and he got in. He was scared. Made to get into the cop car just for speeding?? As I looked down at him, I thought he was trembling. My size standing over him cast a shadow over his whole body. I'm blocking out the sun. In a commanding, harsh growl, I barked, "Pull down your zipper!"

His mouth fell open. Total astonishment, his face full of horror. He realized I was coming on to him sexually, and he panicked, desperately trying to think of how to escape. But it was all happening too fast.

"Do it!"

Speechless, he slowly unzipped his pants, but in the meantime I squatted down outside the car door, reached in, and groped his crotch. He gasped as I finished the unzip job and pulled out his cock. Damn! He was hardening! It sprang out, fuck, a good nine inches! He was uncircumcised—my favorite—the flared head of his cock encased in a soft leather sheath, baring only the outer tip of the red glans. It bounced enticingly near my face. Major turn-on.

Suddenly he knew the situation--that I wanted to serve him, to suck his cock. I was going crazy smelling his maleness. I could feel the power of that big cock.

I can't explain it. My submission to him would not have anything to do with my police duties. The guy would still get a speeding ticket. Well, maybe not, depending on how good he was as a lover.

But in the deepest core of my being I craved to surrender my spirit and manhood to him. I longed to be his conquest. I love to be the complete opposite of the in-control cop (for a short while).

Everything about the situation was a turn-on. The idea that I, a State Trooper Sergeant in full uniform, was bending over the cock of a civilian astonished the poor guy, but he couldn't keep himself from getting an erection. My own dong throbbed in my pants.

My mouth watered. Giving in to a man was giving up my last vestige of control, giving up my secret, submitting my authority, giving it to him. Turning my body over to him. He might not be able to imagine such a thing, but I fully intended to feel that man's cock spreading my asshole, thrusting me into Nirvana. I wasn't going to stop with just sucking his cock.

I was past stopping. As the pearl of precum on the tip of that proud cock neared my lips, his ownership of me was complete. Thrills went up my back as I fell under his power. He would take me, oh, yes, he would, and I would let him. I would beg him to fuck me. To slam it to me. To treat me rough.

Drunk with the joy of submission, I extended my tongue and licked the drop of salty precum from the prick of my new master, then slid my tongue across the tip of his cock, teasing him. "I'll be damned." His voice was a low hiss. "A fucking cop sucking my dick!"