The Helpful Citizen Ch. 02

Chapter Two: Checking In, and We Need Your Help Again, Mr. Hill

Two weeks after helping the police bust the insurance scam, Steven was in his living room, thinking about getting some work done. Finally. He was behind, as he'd been strangely distracted recently.

Thirty minutes earlier he had kissed Marina off on another business trip. As soon as she had pulled out of the driveway, he'd raced upstairs to change. He'd dropped his bathrobe on the floor and pulled the skimpy underwear out of his dresser--the tiny thing the police had given him to help catch the insurance scammers. He had grown fond of wearing it around the house when he was alone.

Steven Hill was a changed man.

He knew it, but he hadn't let himself think about what that meant.

His attitude towards his body had been transformed. He was spending more time looking at himself in mirrors.

Last week he'd almost bought a few new outfits. He had been spending time at discreet, online stores, looking for clothes designed to show off men's bodies. But he couldn't go that far.

He hadn't shown his wife the clothing items the police had given him, the ones chosen to attract the perverted scammers. Nor had he told her that he was looking at sexy clothing online. One pair especially tempted him: they hugged one's cheeks but had a discreet slit opening between them.

But then he felt guilty. He didn't want to keep secrets from her. How could I possibly explain to her what had happened?

He almost wanted to forget the whole incident. He'd let himself be talked into wearing a bikini to entice two men into his house, and a secret part of him had enjoyed their looks. He also knew, in moments of clarity, that the men had too easily stripped the bikini off him and gotten him naked and used him sexually. He had gone along with it. Willingly.

Yet as wrong as that had been, he couldn't quite make himself get rid of the bikini or the sheer underwear. They made him feel sexy.

And his hormones seemed to be raging. That was his explanation for why he had so easily let the two black men do those things to him: It was just hormones. They still seemed on fire and he was horny all the time. But Marina was working a lot and they'd only made love twice in the last two weeks. Masturbation helped. Now daily he needed to lie naked on the bed or the sofa, tweak his nipples until they became sensitive and puffy, and slowly stroke himself to orgasm. No matter what fantasy he began imagining, almost always what came to his mind was what the two black men had done to him.

Now he was walking around the house in the skimpy underwear, liking the exposed feeling and the teasing feeling of the fabric on his skin. Later, when he felt the need was too strong, he'd slip them off, masturbate, shower, and go out for some groceries.

* *

His day went as planned and late afternoon he was home again and had changed back into the underwear. He had turned on the television when his doorbell rang. It startled him and he jumped a little.

His robe was upstairs, so opened the door just a crack and peered through the crack under the chain. After all, maybe it was the pervert from next door, Davis Dorn. He'd tried to come by several times since seeing him outside in the bikini two weeks ago. He'd been more persistent than usual. Steven refused to let him inside.

He was surprised to see it was one of the detectives at his door.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hill. It's Detective Jeffers," he said, flashing his badge.

"I remember you, Detective."

"I need to discuss a few things. May I come in?"

"Of course!" he answered, closing the door and undoing the chain. He re-opened the door--and Jeffers froze upon seeing what Steven was wearing. "Oops! I'm so sorry. I forgot. I'll go change."

"Please don't. It's not a problem for me. I mean, I only need a bit of your time."

"All right, then." Steven shivered from a sudden thrill that ran through his body at wearing so little in front of the man. Of course, this was tame compared to the vulgar acts the detective had seem him doing with the two con men. "Have a seat. What can I do for you?"

Jeffers sat on the couch he'd sat on two weeks ago, and Steven took a seat across from him. Between them was a coffee table with a few magazines on it. Jeffers opened his briefcase and pulled out a laptop. "Hope I'm not taking up too much of your time, Mr. Hill."

"Not at all, and please call me Steven."

"Fine, Steven it is. I'm Vaughn." He tapped some keys on laptop. "Thanks again for your help. The prosecutor says we have an airtight case against the Nelson brothers, Mark and Eric."

"You don't need to thank me, Detective Je--... Vaughn. It was my honor to assist you."

"Well, we do have one problem. My supervisor was upset by the videos. After seeing what happened, she was angry--even though she assumed you were an undercover detective. When she found out you were a civilian, she freaked out. She feels we put you in danger."

"I never felt in danger."

"Nor were you. Even so, she thinks we should have intervened before the men... took advantage of you. Maybe even as early as when they took off your robe. Everything after that, she thinks, was a violation of your rights. And obscene. Her assistant agrees."

"But then you wouldn't have had them on video accepting the money."

"Exactly what Timmons and I said. Fortunately the prosecutor's team agree with us. By the way, they asked me to pass on their thanks to you for giving them with the excellent video evidence."

Steven's mind was unsettled: Just how many people have seen the video??

Vaughn pressed a key and turned his computer to face Steven. "My boss especially didn't like this part." The screen showed a frozen image of him being penetrated by cocks from two directions--but it had captured a moment when the expression on his face seemed pained or frightened.

"Now, Detective Timmons and I know you were actually enjoying yourself at this point. Am I right?"

Steven was shocked at the vividness of the image before him. But he had to be honest. "Yes, you're right. Something came over me. I can't explain it, but I was turned on and not resisting. More ... accepting of it."

"Good. So what I need to know is: Do you hold the police department accountable for your actions on that day?"

"Not at all, Vaughn. Tell your supervisor I merely did my civic responsibility like any good citizen would have."

Jeffers sighed. "That's a relief. If you held us accountable, I was facing suspension."

"I'm glad to be of service. Is there anything else?"

"Well, yes. Would you be willing to sign an affidavit--saying that you were a willing participant? We had the secretary type up a description of the video's contents, describing the main ... activities. The lawyers checked it for accuracy and approved the wording. So we just need your signature agreeing that during none of the ... umm ... interactions did you feel in danger or that your civil rights were being violated."

He held out a sheet of paper and a pen. Steven silently took them, cast his eye down the text, and quickly signed at the bottom.

"There. Anything else?"

Jeffers paused for a moment. "There is one other thing, Steven.

"Would you be willing to assist us again?"

* *

Steven's heart skipped a beat. Was the detective really asking for his help once again?

Work had not engaged him recently. The neighborhood had felt confining. As much as he wanted to forget, the incident two weeks ago was the most exciting thing to happen to him in ... well, a long time.

"It depends what you had in mind, I suppose."

Jeffers pulled out a file from his briefcase and handed it to Steven. He opened it and stared at a picture of an intense-looking man's mug shot. Jeffers said, "That is Carl Stone, a.k.a. Big Stoner. He was a petty criminal but he's recently moved up in the hierarchy."

"Drug dealer," Steven said, reading the sheet.

"Yes, but he's just a middle-man. We need to find out who his supplier is. We have enough evidence to arrest Stone, but he'd just be replaced within hours. So we need somebody to plant cameras in his hotel room where he meets with his supplier."

"Makes sense."

"The problem is his bodyguard. He's outside Stone's room whenever he's not there. The guard is too smart to fall for the usual tricks: 'We're with the phone company,' 'We're with room service,' etc."

"But what could I do?"

Jeffers sat forward on the sofa and, making a steeple with his fingers, rested his chin on his index fingers. He stared at Steven, and both of them were aware of Steven's minimal state of dress. "He does let one type of person in the room."

"What type is that?"

"Prostitutes. Usually male prostitutes."

"What?!? You want me to pose as a hooker?" Steven couldn't believe it. "Don't you have any undercover detectives for that?"

"Surprisingly, we don't. At least, no attractive ones. Stone is choosy. And he doesn't like guys who are too feminine. Most of our undercover Vice squad are too 'gay,' if you know what I mean."

"But I can't pose as a hooker--and especially to a drug dealer! That's dangerous."

"Don't worry about that--he has no history of violence that we know of. And you wouldn't actually meet him. Our plan is for you to enter his room when he's out. His guard will let you in, thinking you're just a prostitute he's arranged for the evening. You'll plant a few cameras, like the ones we used here in your house to catch the insurance scammers. Then you'll tell the bodyguard you left something in your car. You'll leave and drive home. That's it."

Steven pondered the plan.

"Also," Jeffers added, "Timmons and I will be nearby to rescue you within minutes if something goes wrong."

"Like you 'rescued' me from the last two guys," Steven stated sarcastically. "This doesn't sound like a good idea to me."

"I understand. But your help was so valuable before that I thought I'd ask." He put some emphasis on the words before.

Steven remained silent, but his mind was going over what had happened before.

"I wouldn't ask," Jeffers continued, "but when Timmons and I were developing a strategy for this new case, we kept coming back to you. Both of us ..." Jeffers sought just the right word "... sensed something about you during the insurance scam case. The way you, uhhh, handled the ... ummm ... complications. You seemed a natural for situations involving ... such men."

Steven squirmed in his seat, feeling the fabric of the chair against his skin, aware that he was sitting with most of his body exposed and that the "situation" referred to involved bad men who'd had sex with him. What did they "sense" about him?

It was too much to process, and he didn't respond.

"Okay," Jeffers said. "I can't blame you for staying safely home in this lovely neighborhood. Not everyone needs that kind of excitement in their lives."

Jeffers reached out to take back the file from Steven. "I just hope we can stop this gang before they sell to any more high school kids."

"Kids?"

"Yes, sir. Stone and his gang believe in getting customers hooked young and early."

Steven sighed. Helping the police previously had been the most exciting thing he'd done. And here was another chance to help his city and keep some young people safe.

And ... something else was shifting inside him, below the surface of his consciousness. A dark sensation of ... something.

"I'll do it," he mumbled.

"You will? That's fantastic! Like I said, it should be straightforward. You can be in and out of the room in five minutes. Stoner is expected at the hotel in two weeks, the one he always stays at when he's in the city. The police department will provide you with a suitable outfit. Something a male prostitute would wear."

Steven had little idea what that meant, thinking nothing in his wardrobe would fit that description.

Jeffers continued to outline the plan. "The target date will be Saturday night before dinner time. Detective Timmons or I will send your outfit and hopefully we can wrap up another case. Everything will go as planned."

Jeffers placed his computer on the coffee table before him, stood and walked over to Steven. He held his hand out to him. "We can't thank you enough."

"No need, it's every citizen's responsibility to help when needed." Steven stood and took his hand and watched his own get completely engulfed by the large black man's hand.

* *

"I should get going," said Jeffers, but seemed strangely reluctant to leave. "I'll be your case detective," he repeated unnecessarily. "We'll send your outfit to you in an unmarked package. Will your wife be here?"

"No. She'll be home late tomorrow, but then off again the Friday before you need me."

"Good. I'll contact you and meet you in the hotel lobby with the cameras. Timmons will monitor the hotel. Thanks again."

Jeffers turned, but turned back again, standing within a foot of Steven.

Something was clearly on his mind.

"One last thing, Steven. I've been wondering, and Timmons and I have been talking this over a lot. Two weeks ago with the insurance con men, why did you do it? I mean, you could have said No. You didn't have to go as far as you did."

Steven was flushing red again.

"Am I embarrassing you?" He was looking directly at Steven's face.

"No ... yes, but it's fine, Detective. I've been thinking about it too. I can't really explain it. But they knew what they were doing, Vaughn. They knew just what words to use. That got me worked up. And then there was the other thing."

"What other thing?"

"They were... They were just so... well you know, big, as well as so sure of themselves."

"Ah, their masculine confidence and directness overwhelmed you. I see," Jeffers said thoughtfully. "But what do you mean by 'big'?"

Steven was embarrassed to be saying such things out loud. He looked away from Jeffers and had a momentary impression of a shadow moving outside the front window. But he was preoccupied with the memories playing inside his head.

"Their ... penises. I had never seen any that big. I know I'm pretty well endowed, but ... "

"Yes, you are," Jeffers agreed. "But maybe you don't have much experience with black men."

Steven frowned. "What are you saying?"

"The insurance scammers are average for black men."

"No! No way. How can you call those things average...?" Steven's attention was drawn down to Jeffers's crotch as the detective fished his cock out of his pants. He tugged out a swollen, semi-hard monstrosity of a penis.

"Compare mine."

Steven stared at the huge penis. Something that large was more properly called a cock. "That's big! You're saying you're average for a black man too?"

"Mine's not even hard yet. Here," he reached out and took his hand. Steven let his hand be taken and placed on Vaughn's cock. "Stroke it."

"My god," he said, complying. The fingers of his hand were now gripping Vaughn's huge black cock and starting to slide it up and down its hardening shaft. It extended a few centimeters, and then some more, stiffening to full erection.

"It's so big! What's wrong with it?" He grabbed the flesh covering the head and pulled back until a fat bulbous cock head emerged.

"I'm uncircumcised. Like I said, mine's what you'd call big. That's why I didn't understand what you meant by calling those two loser con men big."

Steven's total attention was on his hand running up and down the man's shaft.

"One last thing, Mr. Hill," said Jeffers, loosening his tie. He reached out and touched the hem of Steven's skimpy underwear. "The department needs its property back." He tugged and the underwear slid partway down his thighs. Another tug and they fell around Steven's feet, leaving him standing there naked and mesmerized by the big cock in his hand.

Jeffers remembered what had happened when the con men had touched Steven's nipples. He'd re-watched that part of the video several times, so he knew what to do. His hand moved to one nipple and pinched it. Steven moaned.

"Why don't you get a closer look at my cock?" His one hand continued to tweak the nipple. His other went to Steven's shoulder and pushed him down.

Steven fell to his knees directly in front of Jeffers's long black cock. It looked even bigger up close as he stared cross-eyed down the shaft. Why is it so fascinating to me? I don't understand.

But honestly, he thought, this monstrosity of a cock is ugly--until he pulled the foreskin back and the dark-purplish head appeared, and then it became sleek and magnificent.

"My god," he said with awe, "I see it, but I still don't believe it." He then looked under the cock at the scrotum dangling there. "Even your testicles are huge."

Vaughn groaned as if in pain. "Yeah, and they're swollen right now. I haven't had any relief in weeks. I'm married to my job and working long hours getting criminals off the streets. I just haven't had time to meet anybody."

He added: "Having a handsome white man stroking it isn't helping either. Maybe, you should stop."

Steven jerked his hand back. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize. Did you say weeks? It must be painful."

"It is painful. This was a bad idea. I don't know how I'm going to get it back in my pants now. It sucks sometimes that I'm so job-bound. Sometimes I think I should switch to a desk job and find a wife. But I'm a committed to making this city safe."

"I wish there was something I could do for you," said Steven. Vaughn was making no effort to put his cock away, and Steven's hand wanted to reach out and grab it again, but he restrained it.

"The only way you could help me, Steven, is to get me off. I know that's a lot to ask, especially after everything you've already done."

"You want me to make you orgasm?" Steven knew how strong a real man's sex needs were. And Detective Jeffers did put his life at risk every day. Even so, it was crazy to think it was his civic responsibility to jerk off a semi-stranger.

But there was something compelling about kneeling before such a magnificent monstrosity. Plus the man was in obvious need. He made up his mind, reached out and grabbed his cock again. "What do you want me to do?"

"Oh thanks, Steven," moaned Vaughn. "You don't know what this means to me. I'd be happy if you just stroked me off. But if you don't mind, I'd love it if you licked around the head or sucked it in your mouth some."

"We'll see," Steven replied. "No promises." He was also relieved that this time there were no cameras. I'm just helping out a public servant. No further.

He grabbed the base of the cock to hold it steady and began running his free hand up and down the shaft. If two weeks ago someone had told him that he'd be kneeling before a stranger's cock and stroking it--he would have been disgusted. Now he was fascinated by this enormous cock, and judging from own leaking cock, aroused too.

He planned to use only his hand, but the friction was too dry. The tip of the man's cock was oozing lots of pre-cum, but not enough to coat such a thick shaft. "It's too dry," he stated.

"Using your mouth would help," suggested Vaughn, staring down at Steven's lips.

Steven stared at the massive black cock and felt saliva building in his mouth. Vaughn was attractive in a rugged way with chiseled features. His eyes had a direct look that made him look virile. He filled out his suit nicely and looked to have a fit body under it.

Unfortunately, his attractiveness did not extend to his fat cock with the bulging blue-black veins crisscrossing it.

Then Steven suddenly remembered how his feelings had changed once he had the con man's cock in his mouth. He licked his lips, leaned forward, and let his tongue caress the tip of Vaughn's cock.

"That's it, boy," the detective moaned.

Steven ran his tongue around the flaring head, testing. He then stretched his jaw as wide as he could and took the knob in his mouth, holding it there and letting his tongue swirl all around it. It then felt natural to bob his head a little, sucking the end of Vaughn's cock and part of the shaft. Drool ran down the shaft, coating its smooth skin criss-crossed with veins and helping his pumping hand glide smoothly up and down his cock. Both men moaned with pleasure together.