His head felt like his brain was swelling.
It throbbed even more as the first light of morning streamed through the window. Through all his drinking and carousing, Kake had never had a single hangover until today. And where was he?
He never remembered waking up in this strange place before. Sunlight through a window? He didn’t have windows or a big bed like the one he was in… Where was he?
That’s when he felt the urge. He needed to piss, and apparently there were no guys around to act as human urinals, so he relented and stumbled toward the bathroom. He was pretty sure there was one around here.
Finding the toilet, he pointed his immense cock toward the bowl and let loose with a torrent of hot steaming piss. Most of it made it into the toilet, but he was still unsteady on his feet and the throbbing in his head didn’t make concentrating on aim any easier.
Once the last drops fell from his huge cock, he turned to the nearby sink. After washing his hands—rinsing really—he looked up at the mirror over the sink. What the fuck?
Staring back at him was a tall, tanned hunk of a man with impossibly wide shoulders, a tiny waist and a sharp chin, his mouth accentuated with a bushy mustache. But something was very wrong. His face had a ruddy tan color to it. Color? How had he never noticed his complexion before?
Everything in his world had always seemed pretty black and white. It was clear cut, no ambiguities. All the men were physically fit, heavily-endowed and always cruising for their next sexual encounter. There were no games, no subtleties and little dialogue—which suited Kake just fine.
If only this damned hangover would go away he could get on with his day.
He picked up his leather shirt from the bedpost and slipped it on before pulling on his jeans. It was a bit of a struggle but he finally managed to button them up. They fit so tight they looked like denim skin instead of cloth.
He jammed his feet into his tall boots and tucked his pant legs inside. The whole process seemed very foreign to him. He remembered taking his clothes off many times but couldn’t recall the last time he put them on.
He staggered to the door and stepped outside. He just needed a ride to clear his head and luckily his motorcycle was right there, fully gassed and ready to go. He hopped on and with a quick kick the big machine roared to life. As he rode off into the street the sunshine and the fresh air revived him.
In a few minutes he was on a stretch of highway headed toward…
…Where was he going? Funny, he didn’t remember having any place definite in mind, he just wanted to ride and feel the wind in his face. The open road was where he felt most at home.
Looking in his rearview mirrors, he noticed a couple of hot highway patrolmen following him. That image always made him smile. More than once he had pulled off the road and had his way with a hunky motorcycle cop. The thought made his giant cock swell in his tight jeans.
The last cop he was stopped by ended up on his knees sucking Kake’s dripping cock and worshipping his oversized balls. Kake remembered stripping off the cop’s jodhpurs and fucking his tight ass bent over the seat of his bike.
Later the cop’s buddies had their way with Kake’s firm backside, fucking him in ways that could only be thought of as acrobatic. He loved sex—especially with guys in uniforms—no matter whether he was giving or receiving.
His memory was jostled by the sound of a siren coming from the highway patrolmen following him. Maybe this was going to be another lucky day?
Kake pulled off the road at a convenient rest stop followed closely by the two cops. He came to a stop and put his kickstand down as they approached. Kake readied his best seductive smile as they walked up.
“Is there a reason you aren’t wearing a helmet?” The tall blond trooper put his hand on his holster, not threatening, but ready for anything. He cut a striking figure in the tan uniform and his tall shiny boots gleamed in the morning sun.
“Vie voot I vear a helmut, officer.” Kake replied, his Scandinavian accent shaping his words.
“I guess you aren’t from around here,” the trooper said. “Here in the California the law says you have to wear a helmet for your safety.”
Kake flashed his sexiest smile. “I vas unavare off such a law, officer.” He turned and pushed his tight ass out slightly, “I hope you vill not punish me for dis infraction.”
The trooper looked at his partner who had just sauntered up. His quizzical look was reflected by his partner who didn’t know what to make of the tall handsome Scandinavian.
“I think he is implying his willingness to trade some kind of sexual favor for leniency.”
The first trooper laughed and then turned towards Kake.
“I get your not-so-subtle suggestion, but that’s not going to happen here today.”
He tapped the bodycam on his chest. “You should be aware that this is all being recorded.”
Kake smiled, “Kamera! You Vest Coast cops are kinky, no?”
The trooper clicked the switch on the mic attached to his vest. “We’re going to need backup. On the 101 Northbound, just south of Geyserville.”
Kake seductively rubbed his firm ass, fixing the other trooper in the eye.
“License and registration, please.”
Kake raised an eyebrow and the reached for his wallet, but there was none, just the tight fabric covering his round ass.
“I don’t seem to haf one, officer”, Kake was a bit flustered, but in all his encounters with police before they had never asked for identification.
“What’s your name, sir?” The blonde officer had his citation book out.
“Nemini Kake,” he replied.
“Ne-men-I Cake,” the trooper said as he wrote in his book.
“No sir,” Jake interrupted, “my name is Kake…ka-ke. I apologize I was speaking Finnish.”
“Finnish? Like from Finland?”
“Yoo, er yes,” Kake stammered.
“Last name?”
And Kake froze, he had never been asked his last name. In fact he rarely spoke at all.
The trooper asked again. “Last name?”
Kake just froze, for the life of him he couldn’t recall having a last name.
“You do have a last name, don’t you?”
“It might be Laaksonen,” Kake stammered.
“Lock-son-nin?” The blonde officer tried to wrap his mouth around the name.
Kake smiled at the trooper and seductively rubbed the enormous cock that was hardening in his jeans.
“Are you sure there is not zomesing I could do fer you?”
The blonde had reached his breaking point. “Hands behind your back. You are under arrest for failure to produce ID and attempting to bribe an officer with sexual favors.”
Kake kept smiling. He anticipated things getting a little rough before the hunky state troopers finally succumbed to his magnetic sexuality. He was sure they would both want a taste of his delicious cock before they fucked his inviting succulent ass. It always ended that way and even as he was being handcuffed his cock maintained its stiffness. One thing Kake never had a problem with was getting and maintaining an erection.
The blond trooper pulled out a card and began reading the Miranda Rights about the time an SUV with a California Highway Patrol logo on the doors pulled up. Another hunky trooper emerged from the car and after a brief discussion opened the back door.
As he struggled to fit Kake’s broad shoulders into the back seat, he smiled at his colleagues. “Looks like we’ve got a strange one here,” he said. “Hell of a build on him, glad he didn’t give you any trouble.”
By the time the trooper’s car got to the jail, Kake was starting to worry. He’d had a lot of adventures in his life but they all ended with him and at least one or two men being sexually satisfied and sometimes covered in cum. So far all his attempts to steer the action that way were met with cold glances or outright hostility.
As he was checked into the station he had just about given up trying to seduce the hunky patrolmen and mainly just wanted to get the handcuffs off so he could stretch his formidable arms. Once there, he was put in a cell with another man. He was asleep on one of the metal cots that were the cell’s only decor. As the officer slammed the door shut, the noise woke him.
As the other prisoner rolled over, Kake thought he might be looking at a mirror. This guy had the same Herculean build. The narrow waist, round ass and in his pants, there was a long bulge revealing his throbbing cock. This guy’s face looked familiar, too.
He sat up and extended his hand. “The name’s Mikko or Mike over here,” he said with a distinct Scandinavian accent.
Kake shook his hand. “’Kake’. You sound like you might be Finnish.”
“Yes I am, so do you,” he grinned. “I’ll bet these guys called you “cake”.”
Kake laughed. “They just can’t seem to pronounce my name right.”
Kake took in the impressive sight of the man who could have been his double. His massive pecs stretched the fabric of the white t-shirt he wore, his nipples erect and prominent against the fabric. The huge bulge in his pants drew Kake’s attention. He rubbed his own growing cock as he looked hungrily at Mike.
“I can tell you speak my language,” said Mike as he watched Kake stroking his swelling dick through his pants.
“Kyllä herra—yes sir”, Kake reiterated in both Finnish and English. He stepped closer and pulled Mike’s face closer then kissed him with rough sensuality.
Mike’s hands immediately went around Kake’s waist and pulled him in close. Their hard cocks pressed together as his tongue invaded Kake’s mouth. It felt almost like he was kissing himself, but that didn’t deter him.
Their turgid dicks rubbed together as Kake ran his hands over Mike’s perfectly round butt. This was much more like it! Kake was in his element even if it was in a jail cell in a Highway Patrol substation.
The electric energy of the two hyper-masculine men crackled in the air. Neither needed words anymore. They were both speaking the language of raw unbridled sex.
In moments, Mike had dropped to his knees, his mouth hungrily devouring Kake’s erection through the fabric of his jeans. He effortlessly unbuttoned the fly and pulled the denim down over Kake’s hips, freeing his enormous cock from its confinement.
Mike’s mouth sucked the big member into his throat as far as he could, almost choking on its girth. With his hands he pulled Kake’s ass toward him, impaling his face on the huge penis.
Kake stripped off his leather shirt and arched his back as Mike sucked his cock. This was more like it!
Meanwhile, Mike’s eager hands pulled Kake’s pants down, exposing his perfect round butt, a butt that Mike wanted to explore and devour. He pulled his mouth off Kake’s member and spun him around, pausing only long enough to admire the beautiful ass before he drove his face into the seductive crack between Kake’s cheeks.
Kake braced himself against the cell bars, feeling Mike’s eager tongue circling his hole. Silently he writhed and pushed his butt out, serving it up for his newfound jailhouse buddy.
Mike soon had Kake’s ass wet and ready. In a moment, he stripped off his pants and let his own monster cock spring free. It was every bit as big as Kake’s and it was dripping with precum. Mike stroked the huge tool a few times before pressing it into Kake’s hungry hole.
Kake pushed his hips back, eager for Mike’s hot meat. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. His teeth gleamed as he watched the man who could have been his double fuck him with animalistic energy and joy. He reveled to feel every inch of that big dick inside him.
His own cock was leaking furiously as he reached down and stroked it, smearing the precum over the huge head and shaft. He was lost in the sensations as Mike’s enormous cock thrust deep into his tight ass. This was what he was made for—
Sex.
Raw. Masculine. Sex.
His cock began spewing his cum at the same moment Mike exploded in his ass. The feeling was transformative. It wiped all the confusion and awkwardness of the encounter with the highway patrol from his mind. As a pool of his hot cum collected on the floor of the jail cell, he knew he was doing exactly what he should. He was where he was always meant to be.
One of the guards in the jail heard the banging of the cell bars and came back to investigate. Probably just the two big men getting into a fight.
When he arrived, he stopped, frozen by the sight. In all his years working for the state he had never seen anything like this.
The cell was empty. He unlocked the door and swung it open. Frantically, he looked under the cots and scanned the small space. How on earth could they be gone? It was impossible!
Not a trace of them. That’s when he saw the huge puddle of viscous liquid on the floor of the cell. He touched it with his finger and brought it to his face to get a closer look when the odor hit him. It was semen!
He quickly wiped his finger on his trousers. And then he saw it, a small magazine sticking out from the edge of the bedding on the cot. He picked it up, examined the worn pages. This had been thumbed through many times.
It was a black and white comic book, but not an ordinary one by any means. As he flipped through the pages he saw the images of two men engaged in what he would later describe in his report as obscene acts. The images almost looked like photos, but were drawings of two tall, impossibly fit men who bore uncanny resemblances to the two prisoners he himself had locked into the cell.
As he looked closer at the drawings, the only word he found was a signature at the bottom of the last page.
“Tom”.
Author: Hardy Haberman
Photo Credit: DRUMMER Archives