Saturday, January 5, 2013


Been awhile since I've written about my cop. I finally let him fuck me again last June. Then things got screwed up. Maybe because we said "I love you" to each other. I didn't get replies to emails, dates were getting postponed. I figured Mike was having lots of hot encounters, going through his mid-life crisis. I sent an email just to thank him for the good times we had; he wrote back thank you and said he couldn't wait to see me (J'ai super hâte à te voir), but broke dates again. The weekend he said he would be out of town, I started tailing him. Not physically, of course -- that would be really crazy. I just tracked his movements through his GPS location via Growlr. Ingenious, eh? And I got a big thrill out of knowing I was tracking a cop!

The weekend he said he would be away I tracked him going downtown one night and staying home the next. I even pinpointed him at his fuckpad -- the place where he took me. I sent an angry text: "I know where you are..." and that I was through bla-bla-bla, blocking him on Growlr. 

I tried to forget him. I couldn't. The summer went by and I had one or two pathetic sexual encounters with strangers, like I used to do. Finally, in the early fall, after one particularly disastrous encounter, I came home dejected. Jimmy said, soothingly, "You miss your cop, don't you." I sure did.

The next few days I scoured Growlr and Scruff to find him again. I did. It seems strange to me now that I don't know remember what I wrote in that first email. The gist of it I guess was that he was the best sex I ever had and I'd do anything to be his sex slave again. "Even fucking?" he asked. I balked. Not that! He said that were his terms. I realized I had to learn to take it. Suddenly, I was filled with resolve and obedience. Like Elizabeth Taylor in Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew, I was going to take or do anything he demanded. 

We set a date for the following Tuesday at his fuckpad.

The next day I went to my favourite sex shop in the Village, Fétiche Armada, where owner Ghislain -- who was green with envy over my situation -- cheerfully counselled me on how to get my ass in gear. He sold me a bulb with a pump to stretch my anus. And some silicone lubricant. I started practising as soon as I got home.

Mike was very pleased with the results. But first he wanted to set me straight. He was pissed off I disappeared over the summer. I told him maybe he wasn't a very good communicator. He retorted that he was a very good communicator! I hadn't thought so, but ever since he's taken pains to inform me when he'll meet me and keeps me posted as he gets away from his wife and when he's late. He gave me some good slaps across the face as punishment. I'm enthralled by that. 

Lying down together that Tuesday, he grabbed my head. He was angry about the summer. He said, "I want to tell you what you like about me." There were things physical, spiritual and emotional. I'd rather keep them between him and me.

It's been getting better and better, and hotter and hotter ever since. I'm under police orders not to have sex with anyone else. Why the hell would I?! Mind, I've never been exclusive to anyone before. He said he didn't need anyone else to suck his dick. He bought me a Christmas present but told me before I wasn't to buy him anything. I went for my annual HIV test this week. Results were negative. I was a bit relieved. So was he. 

I could go on, but maybe I've said too much already. Did I tell you he's very, very rough? Makes me feel so alive! I knew, back when he first tried to fuck me and he had me in a headlock. I knew that I could not escape -- that he had me. I could scream so they'd hear me in the hall, but I knew I couldn't wriggle out. It was the most thrilling sexual experience I'd ever had.

My Mike has a 
cop moustache like that
There's something about being a man's slave that is liberating. Whatever he says goes. I don't have to stand up for equality because there is none. As a result though, he's very kind, generous, loving and even tender. Gazing into my eyes. Caressing be. Slapping me. Being a trained and experienced rough guy, he knows how to do it without going too far. He even asks sometimes. I beg for more. I never did this before. He strangled me once while coming inside me. I stared deep into his eyes. I'm not afraid of dying, but I knew he wouldn't kill me.

One last note. It's really thrilling that Mike is a cop. But, as you've surely gleamed by now, he's much, much more than that. Yes, I'm a very lucky guy.

If you'd like to share your cop sex stories here, I'm sure there are others who would like to read them.