Rough Riding to BARUF Ch. 02

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The cop was patting me on the butt cheeks with his billy club and telling me what a nice fuck I was as a second cop pulled up on a motorcycle, cut the engine, and stood the cycle up on its stand.

He strode over to us, and I could tell in an instant that he wasn’t here to help me escape the first cop. He also looked a lot younger and more fit than the first cop. I was shivering in anticipation.

“He had the sign in his window?” the second cop asked the first one. “You’re sure the sign was in the window?”

“Sure thing. Look for yourself.”

The second cop proceeded to walk behind my car and take a look at the rear window. He grunted a sign of satisfaction, and came back around to where I was cuffed to the police car. “Nice ride,” he said to the first cop.

“The Jag or the guy?” the first cop said, and then he gave a hoarse little laugh in appreciation of his own joke.

“Both,” the second cop said, and he too laughed. My ears burned from the comment. It was a silly thing to do, of course. The first cop had fucked me, and the second cop could see me with my naked butt hanging out, and I was embarrassed that they were talking about how nice a fuck I was. This wasn’t a time for logic, however.

I watched in anticipation mixed with consternation as the second cop stripped off his shirt. He was obviously a bodybuilder and very impressed with himself, as he had every right to be.

“You wanna do him here or on the bike?” the first cop asked.

“On the bike, I think. He looks like a real fun one.”

Cop number one uncuffed me from the rack on top of the cruiser and manhandled me over to the motorcycle, swung my leg over the seat, and pushed me down, chest up and bare butt on the smooth leather of the seat. I was handcuffed on either side to the handlebars of the bike. Cop number two unzipped his tight blue pants and pulled out a thick piece that was already loaded. He rolled a condom on, swung a leg over the bike below me, took my fulya escort calves in his gloved hands, and spread them wide. My butt dug into the cold leather of the saddle. Then he took aim, his barrel was rifling into me, and he was vigorously stroking. His hands moved up to take a strong hold on my thighs, and as he stroked in with his piece, he was pulling my hips back to meet him and then pushing me away as he pulled out of me. He was coming all of the way out of me and then stroking quickly and strongly all the way back in to the root. Cop number one was hunched over my chest, and he was working my nipples with his teeth and tongue.

I gasped and yelped in pain, but more because of what the first cop was doing to my nipples and because my tender butt was chafing on leather of the saddle. Otherwise, this was a glorious fuck. I plastered my eyes on those of the second cop, and I thrilled at the look of lust in his eyes as he stroked me. I could tell the instant that he was ready to fire off his rifle, and I gave a little lurch to my hips that made him explode, which also made firecrackers of satisfaction shoot through my own body.

And then the cops were all business. They both pulled away from me and adjusted their uniforms. I was released from the bike, and the first cop pulled my T back down onto my body. It stung where the material came into contact with the welts from the whipping. He then had me step back into my pants and he fastened me up. He forced me back into the driver seat of my car and handcuffed both of my hands to the steering wheel.

“Gotta take you in, Pretty Boy. Can’t resist arrest and not be taken in for a spell.”

“But, but, I didn’t . . .”

“Drive behind me. Dan here will be driving behind you. No use trying to slip away, ’cause you can’t get out of those cuffs. Just drive along behind me, like a good little piece of ass.”

We drove in tandem back to the state police building, where it bomonti escort appeared that the two of them were the only ones on duty.

“Okay, back in the tank,” cop number one said, as he manhandled me out of the car, through the door of the station, and toward the back room. I didn’t see cop number two again, which I sort of regretted, because he was the better looking of the two and had given me the better fuck.

There were four cells in the back room of the station, but only one occupant, a big Neanderthal trucker type wearing a gas station work uniform consisting of dark pants and a greasy striped shirt that was so dirty I couldn’t read the name on the pocket. He was so barrel chested that he was almost busting out of the shirt at the chest. His feet were stuffed into muddy construction-worker boots. He had been dozing on one of two cots in the cell when we entered the room. Even though the other three cells were empty, the cop forced me over to the occupied cell, unlocked the door, and pushed me in.

“Here, I brought you a present, Jack. A pretty boy; I’ve already tried him out myself. Good meat, if I do say so myself.”

“No, please, don’t” I whimpered, as the cop took first my right arm and cuffed it over the bars above my head and behind me and then my left arm to the other side, stretching me out, my back to the bars and me facing the inside of the cell and the grinning cop and the slobbering trucker type. There was a wooden bench below me, behind my thighs.

“Gotta go make some calls, Jack. Enjoy.” And the cop left the cell, shot the lock home, and started whistling as he sauntered back to the front of the facility.

“I do’n know, Juan,” the other prisoner was calling out to the cop’s disappearing back. “We could get into a lot of trouble over this.”

“Naw, it’s cool, Jack,” the cop called back over his shoulder before he disappeared up the hall. “He had a BARUF sign in the back window of his kurtuluş escort car.”

Once again he caught me wondering, what the fuck does baruf mean?

“Well, all right then,” Jack said to no one in particular. He stood there in front of me for about a minute, a sloppy grin on his face, drinking me in.

“No, please don’t . . .” I whimpered, but that was as much as I could get out, before he reached over with a big mitt, grabbed hold of the collar of my T, and just ripped it off my torso. Then he came into me with his beer breath and tried to kiss my lips while his was fiddling with my belt buckle and the zipper to my jeans. I turned my head, and his mouth landed in the hollow of my neck, where he bit me and then moved down to my chest and nipples, slurping and nipping. He took a couple of steps back as he pulled the jeans off my legs.

“Hot damn, Merry Christmas,” he exclaimed. He pulled his shirt over his head, his biceps and chest muscles rippling and bulging. Even his muscles seemed to have muscles. And when he’d pulled his pants off, I saw the most impressive muscle he had. He was almost as big and thick as cop number two had been. I gulped with arousal and anticipation. I had thought that my hundred dollars had been well spent on the two cops. This was quite a bonus. He gave an unearthly scream and plowed right into me. He pushed me up the bars with his hands under my thighs, and after a couple of swallowing pumps of my cock, got his mouth applied to my asshole and slobbered that up pretty well. I had my feet on the bench now, but he lifted my right leg off the bench and up almost to the bars with his left hand, while he was positioning his rod at my asshole. And then he was in, plunging to the root. Up went my other leg, and I was “hammocked” there, my wrists cuffed to the bars behind and above me, my legs being held up and out by strong hands, my welted back rubbing up against the bars, and my butt suspended in air, as my ass, firmly skewered by his big pole swayed in and out with his pumping motion.

He took even longer than the cops had to shoot off up my ass. But when he did, he just let me collapsed against the bars, pulled his shirt and pants back on, went back to his cot, turned his back to me, and soon drifted off into satisfied snores.

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