Thursday, February 23, 2012

Screwed by two different cops in the same week

 This is not my cop.
I just like love this pic.
Ok. Today's screw wasn't quite like last Sunday's. It was the kind you usually get from a cop. A traffic violation, as opposed to a sexual violation. I had just gotten back to my car, waving to the patrol car that just pulled up behind it. Normally, they don't give you a ticket when you show up unless they already started writing it up, but not Peace Officer B. Brown. The fucker made out a ticket for $85. But that did not hurt nearly as much as the screwing I got from my own, personal cop.
   After our third encounter, I decided to let Mike, as he called himself (his real name was French, of course) do what he really wanted to do. He's very big, so I was pretty apprehensive. And it had been about ten years ago since the last time -- a cute 30ish lighting guy from one of the clubs. He was good and easy -- and average size. Once he got in, it was great. He was good. He fucked me so good, he made my hair curl. Literally. (It was a hot, humid day, and I sweated like a pig).
   James helped me pick out some lube at Priape, and I bought some of the sphincter relaxant recommended to me my a high-school friend's 21-year-old gay son over Facebook. I texted Mike, "Do you have condoms?" He sent me a pic of his semi-erection in his cop pants. "You see what you did to my pants [culottes is what he called them in French], talking about sex."
This is my cop. 

How would you like 
that billy club 
up your ass?
      But the date didn't turn out so well for me. He started out gently enough, but even with the spray and getting past the sphincter, it still killed. He had me kneel and lay my chest on this unplugged TV set with a cushion on top so he could fuck me. Every now and then I popped up protesting I couldn't take it. And once he had me in a headlock, saying, "You wanted this." I didn't want to let him down. After all, I was his self-declared sex slave. And I knew, given his overall size, strength and training, there was absolutely no point in struggling. I had to let him have his way, and he was determined to get it. I resigned myself to manning up and seeing it through.
   But it hurt! It was like a rough porn video of a fake rape. I ended up begging, "Please come! Please come" Finally, I was released and he was laughing. I was just so glad it was over. 
   Today we broke up via texting. He wanted to know if I would meet him again this weekend. I told him he should find someone else, that there were lots of men who would like his big cock up their ass, but that I'm not one of them. He asked if I wanted to change positions. "U mean I fuck you?" I asked. I don't think that was what he meant. He asked me again. "Do you want get fuck? Yes or no," he texted. "No," I replied. "OK."

When she saw this pic 

I downloaded just for fun, 
my oldest friend thought 
this was me dressed up
(at age 36).

1 comment:

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