Highway Patrol

1

Highway Patrol

It was only by chance he saw the flashing blue and red lights behind
him. As he slowed the car down and turned off the stereo he heard the
siren that had been screeching behind him for almost ten minutes.

The six-foot officer approached the car, his stride casual. When he

arrived at the driver’s side window he stopped, his bugling crotch at eye
level.

Since there were only a few inches between it and his face Will

couldn’t help but notice how the tight beige fabric outlined the officer’s
thick cock and its bulbous head. He could even detect a whiff of crotch
sweat and pheromone. Or was that his own aroma he was inhaling?

Wayne Mansfield

2

Highway Patrol © 2009 by Wayne Mansfield

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

An Eternal Press Production

Eternal Press

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To order additional copies of this book, contact: www.eternalpress.ca

Cover Art © 2009 by Shirley Burnett

Edited by Lauren Gilbert

Copyedited by Erin Cramer

Layout and Book Production by Ally Robertson

eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647-49-4

Print ISBN: 978-1-926647-57-9

First eBook Edition * March 2009

First Print Edition * March 2009

Production by Eternal Press

Printed in The United States of America.

Highway Patrol

3

Highway Patrol

Wayne Mansfield

Wayne Mansfield

4

Highway Patrol

Will powered down the empty highway which stretched through the red
sand and saltbush to the horizon. A heat haze shimmered on the tar,
always a few metres ahead of him. The wind whipping his hair about
did nothing to cool his tanned, sweaty skin. Moisture saturated the seat
cover behind him and beneath him. His shorts, the only clothing he
wore, were damp and uncomfortable. The skin between his legs had
turned pink with irritation.

He hated these longs trips. His stereo was his saviour. Dance music

blared out from the speakers that were vibrating with bass. Out here in
the middle of nowhere he could sing his lungs out and there was no-one
to tell him that his voice was off-key.

If only it wasn’t so damned hot!
A short while later Will checked his reflection in the rear vision

mirror, a pastime he was rather fond of. His green eyes stared back at
him, accentuated by the jet black lashes surrounding them, his jet black
eyebrows and the deep tan he had acquired in Baja. His sun-bleached
sandy blonde fringe flew about his face like a flock of doves.

It was only by chance he saw the flashing blue and red lights behind

him. As he slowed the car down and turned off the stereo he heard the
siren that had been screeching behind him for almost ten minutes.

The six-foot officer approached the car, his stride casual. When he

arrived at the driver’s side window he stopped, his bugling crotch at eye
level.

Since there were only a few inches between it and his face Will

couldn’t help but notice how the tight beige fabric outlined the officer’s
thick cock and its bulbous head. He could even detect a whiff of crotch
sweat and pheromone. Or was that his own aroma he was inhaling?

Highway Patrol

5

“Hello officer,” he said smiling nervously.
“Would you step out of the car, Sir?” The voice was deep and

commanding. It was a voice you didn’t say no to.

Will peeled himself off the damp car seat and stepped into the baking

heat of the desert. The minute he stood up sweat trickled down his body,
soaking into the fabric of his shorts. The salty perspiration did nothing to
make him feel any cooler.

“Driver’s licence.”
Will pointed behind him, indicating the whereabouts of his licence,

and then turned. As he leant into the car the officer rested a hand
casually on the flap of his gun belt. He needn’t have worried. Will didn’t
want any trouble. All he wanted was to be out of there as soon as
possible. He’d always hated driving at night and if he didn’t make tracks
soon, he’d be forced to finish his journey in the dark.

“Here you go,” he said, handing the officer his licence.
The officer inspected it while Will inspected Officer Owen King, the

name on the badge.

“You William Brady?”
“Yes,” he replied wiping the sweat from his brow and flicking it onto

the road.

“Yes what?” growled Officer King.
“Yes, sir,” he answered. “Yes my name is William Brady.”
King regarded the twenty-four-year-old through his mirrored

sunglasses. There was the ghost of a frown on his brow as he tried to
ascertain whether the punk was trying to be smart with him. He saw the
boy swallow and his smile hover precariously on his lips. Nah, he
thought to himself, this is just some chicken shit mama’s boy. Probably
ready to shit his pants at any minute.

“So you wanna tell me what the hurry was?” he asked.
“I know, Owen…”
“Officer King to you.” His face was expressionless beneath the brim

of his hat.

“Officer King, I am so sorry. I’ve been driving for five hours and my

concentration must have slipped. You know how it is when your foot
gets a little heavy on the pedal.” He laughed to himself but King did not
see the humour in his statement. “I’ll be more careful in the future. I
promise.”

“Too late to be careful if you kill yourself. Or worse still, someone

else. The roads are not a playground.”

Wayne Mansfield

6

“No, sir.”
King looked at Will’s licence once again. His tongue moved up to

suck a piece of breakfast from between his teeth. It came free with a loud
smacking sound.

“Your licence expires today,” he said finally.
“I know, sir. I have already applied for another one.”
King surveyed the boy through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. He

was lean and tanned; his body firm and toned. He could see from the
muscle definition that he’d spent at least a little time at the gym. The
boy’s nipples were chocolate brown and hairless, although there was a
small patch of dark blonde hair between his pecs and a lot more leading
from his navel down into his black shorts. His mind reeled with visions
of what the shorts could contain, though as he looked some more he
thought he could see just the smallest hint of cock head poking out
beneath the hem of the garment.

King felt his cock stirring between his legs.
“I think you’d better come with me while I check the status of your

licence.”

Will opened his mouth to protest.
“There a problem with that?” asked King.
Will closed his mouth and shook his head.
“No, sir. Just let me get my wallet and lock up.”
King nodded, but when the boy also brought a shirt out with him he

told him to leave it in the car. “It’s too hot for that. Now get into the car.
The sooner we get this cleared up, the sooner you can be on your way.”

The ride into town was a long one and when they arrived Will could

scarcely believe that anyone could, with a straight face, call it a town. It
was more like an outpost with nothing more than a gas station, a police
station and two small shacks. A pair of trees struggled upwards to the
sky, their branches looking moth-eaten, bereft of all but a few leaves.
They offered no protection against the harsh bite of the desert sun.

“Get inside,” said King. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Will watched the man stroll towards the gas station and then headed

for the police station as he’d been told. The idea of running away passed
through his mind but as he looked around him it was the same as far as
the eye could see: red sand, small bushes and the shimmering heat
baking everything dry.

It was air conditioned inside and for that he was grateful. He looked

around the room but needed no more than a few seconds to get the lay of

Highway Patrol

7

the place. The front wall behind him was lined with old wooden
benches. A couple of faded and torn magazines lay scattered on the dull
wooden seat and the remains of a potted palm stood in the corner where
one bench met the other. On the other side of him a simple wooden
bench and behind it, in the space between it and the two cells at the back
of the room, an old vinyl table and three beaten up chairs. A calendar of
semi-naked football players and a plain black-and-white clock were the
only decorations on the walls. The blue light from a computer screen
could just be seen coming from the other side of the counter.

“Want a Coke?” King asked.
Will turned around just in time to catch the small bottle of icy cold

Coca Cola.

“Thanks.”
King lifted a section of the counter up and walked through to the

other side. He removed his hat and sunglasses and for the first time Will
could see what the officer looked like. His face was tanned, his olive
complexion contrasting with the whiteness of his teeth perfectly. His hair
was dark but peppered with silver, the colour of his eyes. A neatly
trimmed moustache and goatee framed his full, sensual lips.

But King didn’t stop there. He removed his shirt and exposed his

well-defined and thickly haired chest. The mounds of his pectoral
muscles looking like furry hills, capped with long, thick nipples that
looked like they had seen a bit of action. They were more like teats. He
folded his shirt neatly and placed it over the back of the chair in front of
the computer.

“We’re very casual out here,” he explained. “I hope you don’t mind

but it’s fuckin’ hot out there.”

Will shook his head as the man leaned down and pulled off his boots

and socks. For a brief moment he thought the man was going to continue
stripping and images of cocks flooded his mind, hard ones, soft ones, cut
and uncut, but he went no further than the boots.

“Now, William Brady, isn’t it?”
Will nodded again, though King wasn’t looking at him.
“Let’s see what the computer says about your licence.”
Will approached the counter and looked down at the computer that

sat facing away from him on a work bench scattered with various
papers, forms and receipts. There was barely a square inch of laminated
bench top to be seen.

King sucked his teeth and started shaking his head.

Wayne Mansfield

8

“Oh dear,” he said solemnly.
Will looked first at King and then at the computer.
“What?” he asked earnestly. “What is it?”
“There is no record here of your licence having been renewed.”
“I did it yesterday before I left. It’s got to be in there.”
King looked up at the boy and shook his head. He exhaled deeply.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep you here until I can make a call

or two.”

King walked around to the reception area and took Will by the arm.

The boy gasped as King’s hand grabbed the top of his arm. Together
they walked through to the cells.

“You’re not going to lock me up?” His eyes were wide. “I’m not a

bloody criminal!”

“Watch your language, boy,” warned King. “You’re not in any

trouble yet so let’s leave it that way.”

Will glared at the officer.
“Listen buddy I wouldn’t get all upset about it. It’s just procedure. I

gotta do my job.”

“Yeah, and I bet you just love it.”
They stopped just short of the cell. King fixed him with a look that

bordered on anger.

“I beg your pardon?”
“Sorry.”
“Sorry what?”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Well I don’t think you are,” said King.
For a moment nothing happened. Will could feel his heart pounding

against his rib cage. He averted his eyes to an invisible spot on the floor.
How did he get himself into this mess? Then, from the corner of his eye,
he thought he saw King’s hand brush against the large bulge in his
pants. He pretended he hadn’t seen anything and looked up.

“I’m really sorr…” he began.
“Get them off!” said King. “You wanna behave like some street punk

then you can be treated like one. Now get ya fuckin’ shorts off!”

Will had thought of protesting but there was a look in the cop’s eye

that warned him against doing anything but complying. He hooked his
thumbs over the top of his shorts, pulled them down and then stepped
out of them. As he stood King held out his hand and motioned for Will
to hand him the sweaty garment.

Highway Patrol

9

“Now bend over and touch ya toes. And I don’t wanna hear anything

coming out of that shithole you call a mouth!”

Will clenched his jaw and did as he’d been instructed, bending all the

way down so that his fingertips touched the skin of his feet. He could
also feel the cheeks of his arse spread just a little and the cool kiss of the
air conditioning on the sweaty pucker between them.

King brought the moist shorts up to his nose and took a deep breath.

Sweat, piss and pheromone. A man’s perfume if ever he’d smelt one. He
took another deep breath and started walking around Will. With the
smell of the boy’s crotch thick in his nostrils and the boy’s naked body
bending before him he was powerless to stem the stiffening of his cock.
And when he came to glance at the thin line of dark hair that peeked out
from the cleft between the boy’s pasty white butt cheeks, it was
positively straining.

He finished the circuit and stood in front of the boy, the sound of his

sniffing the only noise audible above the whir of the air conditioner.

“Listen, if you wanna fuck me you can, but then can I please go?”
“Who said I wanted to fuck you? I’ll do what I damn well please with

you. Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep the fuck quiet
until I ask you a question. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” Will said, his lips thin, his teeth gritted. And then just in the

nick of time. “Sir.”

King put the boy’s shorts over his face, adjusting them so the crotch

was directly over his nose. After a couple of deep breaths he undid his
buckle and let his gun belt slip off. He placed it on the floor and then
undid the button and zipper on his trousers. They came off easily but he
left his jockstrap on. Now naked but for his piss-stained jockstrap he
walked back around the boy.

Will had sensed that Officer King had been undressing. As the officer

squatted down behind him, his arsehole spreading open, he could see
that his suspicions had been accurate. Apart from a yellowed jockstrap,
the man was naked, his hairy stomach and thickly haired thighs filling
Will’s range of vision.

King tore the boy’s shorts off his head and flung them over Will so

that he wouldn’t know what he’d been doing with them. Then he leant
in so his nose was only a centimetre or two from the boy’s hole. He
breathed in, his lips forming a smile for the first time that day.

“Listen…” said Will.
“Did I ask you a question?” growled King.

Wayne Mansfield

10

“No.”
“Well then shut the fuck up!”
The order was accompanied by a sharp smack on his butt cheek. He

winced, his knees for a moment becoming jelly. The throbbing coming
from the red hand mark on the white skin of his arse put paid to any
further vocalisations. That was for sure.

King placed a hand on each cheek and pulled them apart. He sighed

as the boy’s fuck hole was exposed. Again he put his nose to the
puckered flesh and breathed in the strong stink of arsehole. Between his
legs, his cock stretched the knitted fabric of the jockstrap. He gave it a
couple of rubs and then continued his examination of the boy’s arsehole.
The flesh was puckered tight. That was a good sign. He liked a tight boy
cunt. Surrounding it was a thick ring of dark hair, much darker than the
hair on the boy’s head.

Will could hear Officer King sniffing at his arsehole and the idea that

such a powerful man, such a man of authority, could get off on the smell
of his reeking cunt soon got him hard. It wasn’t long before the sound of
sniffing gave way to slurping. When Officer King’s firm wet tongue first
touched the sensitive flesh of his hole, a tingle ran down his spine. As his
tongue probed deeper, through the hair and into the opening, Will’s cock
started dribbling. He watched as thin threads of clear pre-cum spilled
towards the floor, snapping before they arrived and falling with a silent
splatter. He thrust his arse back, willing the man to go deeper, to force
his tongue through the pucker. He closed his eyes, hoping that in the
darkness his wishes would be realised.

King rubbed his face over Will’s hole, coating himself in the sweaty

smell of the hairy arsehole, the smell that was already strong on his lips
and face. He breathed in, inhaling it as oxygen, only this aroma had a
more invigorating effect. He placed two fingers on the boy’s arse lips
and pulled them apart, tonguing the moist red tissue that had been
exposed, wanting his tongue to go ever deeper into the boy.

Will trembled at the assault on his arsehole. He could hardly wait to

feel something more substantial sliding up into his gut. But he had to
remain silent. The officer needed no excuse to exercise the palm of his
hand on the tender flesh of his pearly white bubble butt.

King sucked a finger then wriggled it past the tight muscle of the

anus. Once inside it was easy to push it all the way in. As it came out he
licked it, slobbering over it so that it glided in and out with greater ease.
He glanced between the boy’s legs and saw that Will had his eyes closed.

Highway Patrol

11

It was good he was enjoying this. It made things easier. He hated it when
the boy fought back because it spoiled the whole effect of their little
game. But all too soon he grew tired of working the boy’s hole. He was
the boss after all. He’d put in all the work he was going to. He yanked
his finger out.

Will grimaced.
King got up from his squat and walked around to the front of the

boy.

“Stand up straight,” he said.
Will did as he was asked. A bit too fast. Suddenly the room began

spinning around and he had to steady himself. King shoved something
under his nose and from the smell of it he knew it was the finger that
had been up his arse. He inhaled as best he could before the digit was
forced into his mouth.

“Suck it bitch!”
His tongue and lips went to work on the officer’s finger, sucking it

and running his tongue over and around it until it was pulled roughly
out.

“Your turn,” said King as he turned around and pulled his arse

cheeks apart.

Will glanced down at the furry hole and was immediately on it,

sucking at the hairy arse lips like a babe on the teat. His tongue darted in
and out of the hole as King gyrated against his face.

“That’s it, boy. Lick my dirty cunt real good and you just might make

it out of here before dark.”

Will flattened his tongue and pressed it flat against the dark pink

pucker then licked the officer’s crack going up to his tailbone and then
down again until he was almost at the officer’s balls. Back and forth he
went with his flat, wet tongue, licking up the sweat and arse juice that
had accumulated there and leaving behind a sheen of saliva. And every
now and then he poked the hole with the firm tip of his tongue, testing
the muscle, longing to taste more.

“Rub your face over it!”
Will had to obey the man. He pushed his face into the arse, its musty

stink strong. He slid his face up and down and around the hole. Each
time he passed his face over the unwashed cunt lips, the smell became
stronger. Soon it was all he could smell.

“Enough,” said King as he stood up. “Get in there.”

Wayne Mansfield

12

He nodded towards the cell. Will was cautious but really, what could

he do? If he dared defy the officer, he could very well find himself
spending the night surrounded by cold, black bars. He walked through
open gate and was relieved to see that Officer King had followed.

“Bend over. Brace yourself,” said King as he pulled his jockstrap off.
Will grabbed a hold of the side of the bed. He knew what was coming

next. Or at least he thought he did. He expected to feel King’s hard cock
sliding between his arse cheeks but instead he felt a warm stream of piss
cascading down over his butt cheeks. The smell was strong. Malty. The
officer obviously liked a beer.

“Pull those butt cheeks apart, bitch!”
Will complied. His reward was the splash of warm man piss on his

quivering pucker. But his reward did not stop there.

King squashed the head of his cock against the pucker and pushed

until Will’s anal muscles relented and let his eight-incher slip in, still
pissing. Immediately he began to thrust.

“You ever been piss fucked, boy?”
“No, sir,” he replied.
“You like it?”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“You like the feeling of my warm piss filling your worthless cunt?”
“I do, sir. I like it a lot.”
King pumped the boy’s hole, piss dribbling out with each thrust until

the backs of Will’s legs were saturated with the golden liquid. But soon
the dribble came to a halt and King was free to concentrate on seeding
the boy’s wretched hole.

“You belong to me now, bitch!” he said as he grabbed the boy’s

shoulder and upped the assault on Will’s stretched fuck-hole. “All this is
mine. Your cunt, your lips, your tongue; and the load you are brewing
right now in those big balls jiggling between your legs. That clear?”

Part of Will couldn’t be sure if the officer was joking or not, and part

of him didn’t care.

“Yes, sir. I belong to you. Use me for your pleasure.”
He felt the sting of an open palm on his arse cheek. “Ain’t that what

I’m doing, bitch! Ain’t I doing exactly what I want with your worthless
hole?”

“Yes, sir. And I love it.”
King nodded in approval. Now he gripped both Will’s shoulders, his

hips slapping against Will’s arse cheeks with a rhythm that was almost

Highway Patrol

13

mesmerising. And each time he thrust in Will could feel the slap of the
officer’s hairy nuts against his groin and the pressure of the man’s
swollen cock head against his hardening prostate gland. Despite the air
conditioning they were both covered in a sheen of perspiration which
caused the skin of King’s thighs to stick slightly each time it came into
contact with the skin of Will’s butt. Every time he brought his hips away
there was a peeling sound, every time he thrust in a slap of nut-sack
against lightly-haired groin.

The smell of King’s arsehole was still strong on Will’s face. He

breathed it in and felt his cock twitch.

Soon the thrusting became more rapid. Smack, smack, smack. Will

gripped the side of the bunk until his knuckles were white. His whole
body was being shaken to the bone. King’s cock plunged deeper and
deeper into his bowels. He could feel it harpooning the lining of his gut
but still it didn’t seem enough. He had been transported to another
place, somewhere away from the cold of the air conditioner and the heat
of the desert. He was not captive but free, soaring through some
unknown wilderness.

“You want my load, bitch?”
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “I want every last drop.”
The thrusting took on a new urgency. He noticed the balls weren’t

slapping against him with quite the same gusto as they had been. They
had tightened. The grunts coming from Officer King were filling the
whole building. A hand grabbed his hair, wrenching his whole head
back. He gasped.

“Oh fuck, boy. I’m gonna give ya a week’s worth. Fuckin’ getting

close.”

The thrusting fucking became pounding. King slammed his cock into

the boy, faster and harder until even the bars of the cell were rattling.
Will had ideas to take his own cock in his hand and start jerking off, but
he needed both hands on the bunk just to stop himself from being
pounded right through the bars.

“Oh fuck, bitch! I’m gonna cum. I am gonna seed your dirty bitch

hole!”

Sweat from King flew off his face and chest, splashing across the

smooth skin of Will’s back. Soon his torso was awash with the salty
liquid, which snaked across his back and slid off the sides to the
linoleum below. From behind he could hear Officer King’s breathing
becoming erratic, deeper and more laboured.

Wayne Mansfield

14

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna blow.”
Will tightened his grip on the bunk and closed his eyes. His own cock

was straining for attention but he could not bring it relief. Instead he
concentrated on the sensations at his arsehole; the slight throbbing of the
taut skin around King’s cock, the friction of King’s shaft against the flesh
of his arse lips and of his mushroom head against his prostate. And then
the explosion.

King thrust in and let his cock unload its wad deep inside Will’s

bowels. It had been worth the wait. Even now he could feel the head of
his prick swimming in the sticky load he had shot up there. Jet after jet of
man paste spewed into the boy’s tight fuck tunnel til it was soaked.
Spent, he leaned over Will and rested his head on the boy’s shoulder
until he got his breath back.

“How’d you like that?”
“I loved it, sir.”
King stood up and pulled his dripping cock out of the boy’s sloppy

cunt.

“Come and suck ya daddy’s cock,” he said, holding the shrinking

organ in his hand.

Will turned and immediately took the entire length of King’s cock

down his throat.

“That’s it, boy. Suck ya daddy’s cock clean. Suck up all that sloppy

man cream.”

Will sucked the meaty pole and took the opportunity to take his own

cock in hand.

“Did I say you could touch your cock?” King snapped. “Get ya

fuckin’ hand off it.”

Will removed his hand and looked up at King. His green eyes

imploring the officer to let him have relief from the tension he felt in
every cell of his being.

King pulled his cock out of Will’s mouth and then lay down on the

floor.

“Get over here, boy.”
King grabbed the boy’s thighs and positioned them over his face.
“Now suck my cock.”
Will leant down and took the officer’s cock in his mouth. At the same

time the action caused his arsehole to open slightly releasing a dollop of
King’s own cum directly into his mouth. In fact the more fervently the

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15

boy sucked at the eight-inch prick, the more of King’s cock cream
dribbled out, landing right in the man’s open mouth.

“Get ya arse down here.”
King grabbed the boy by the hips and brought his arsehole down

hard on his mouth. He slurped and sucked until he was sure that the boy
had given him every last drop of jism back. Then he lifted the boy off his
mouth long enough to tell him that he had permission to jerk off before
pulling that tasty cunt back onto his lips.

Will grabbed his cock and began jerking off immediately. With Kings

full lips and bristly chin working his hole and his own hand flying up
and down the length of his cock, it was not going to take long for him to
shoot his load. He ground his arse into the officer’s mouth, riding those
lips like they were a cock; King’s tongue flicking the smooth tissue of his
anal lining and sending waves of electricity throughout his body.

“I’m gonna shoot my load,” Will cried out. “Oh keep tonguing my

cunt, sir. Can I cum? Can I cum, sir?”

King lifted the boy’s well-used fuck-hole off his mouth just long

enough to tell him yes. And the minute he felt King replace his tongue he
sprayed the man’s chest with thick cock juice. A fountain of cock paste
erupted from his hard seven-and-a-half inches, until it had coated every
hair on the officer’s chest and stomach. As his hand milked the last few
drops out, he shuddered; his whole body quivering against the might of
King’s talented tongue.

King pushed the boy up from his face and lifted his head off the floor

just long enough to see the mess Will had made.

“Now you can lick all that up. You can’t expect me to go to work

covered in your jizz.”

Will thought he had finished. He thought it was all over. He had

enjoyed himself but the delay in being taken back to his car took the
smile off his face.

“Is there a problem, bitch!?”
Will shook his head and dropped to his knees. He stuck his tongue

out and ran it up and down the man’s torso until he had cleaned every
trace of cum from it.

“What about this bit?”
King pointed to a large dollop just above his right nipple.
Will’s mouth was on it immediately.
“Don’t swallow it,” King said. “Kiss me with it.”

Wayne Mansfield

16

Will leaned down and pressed his lips gently against King’s. They

tasted salty or was it just the taste of his own lips?

King was unexpectedly tender with his kisses, taking the boy’s

bottom lip between his own and sucking it gently before meeting his
tongue in a dance whereby the cum was shared between them. He took
Will in his arms, pulling him down so that their bodies were flat against
each other, nipple to nipple, mouth to mouth, tongue wrapped around
tongue.

“You know something, boy?” said King, breaking away from the kiss.
“What, sir?”
“I don’t think there’s a problem with your licence after all. You’re free

to go.”

Will pushed himself up from the man; his eyes full of fury.
“What!” he snapped.
King frowned. “You watch your tone, boy. You’re still mine ‘til I take

you back to your car.”

And with that he pushed the boy off him. Will stumbled but

managed to put a hand out to break his fall.

“Now get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your car. Just make sure

you get that licence before tomorrow. Another officer may not be so
accommodating.”

He laughed to himself as he pulled his jockstrap on.
Will put on his shorts and then walked up to the officer.
“Sir, I was wondering…”
King frowned at him. He was about to admonish the boy for

speaking without being spoken to, but his curiosity got the better of him
and he let the boy continue.

“I was wondering if I could call in and...erm…call in and say hello

again.”

King met the boy’s eyes. He could see already what was happening.

It had happened before.

“What’s wrong with you young blokes? A bit of discipline and you’re

gushing.”

Will looked down at his feet and shuffled his foot in the semen-

spotted lino.

“So can I?”
King pulled his pants on and then picked up his gun belt.

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17

“Guess you’re just gonna have to call in and see,” he said. “Now let

me get my shirt and I’ll get you back to your car. And keep the fuck
quiet on the way out. Don’t make me change my mind.”

Will smiled and King winked at him.
The journey back to the car was as silent as the one into town.
The sun had almost completed his journey and was throwing fingers

of shadow along the highway. King pulled up by Will’s car.

Will was happy to see that it was still there and still in one piece.
“Thanks, sir,” he said as he took his seatbelt off.
King looked at him and nodded his head.
“I’ll see you home at nine o’clock then?” Will said.
King’s lips parted into a broad smile.
“Yeah, baby,” he said. “And make sure my dinner’s on the table.”
Will smiled back at his lover and leaned over to kiss him one more

time before it was time to return to reality and the world of the everyday.

Wayne Mansfield

18

About the Author

Wayne Mansfield was born and raised in rural Western Australia. He
left home at seventeen to attend university where he studied teaching.
He taught primary school for a year before resigning to experience more
of life.
He now teaches English to overseas students and is school counselor. He
enjoys listening to music (from ABBA to Marilyn Manson) and going to
the local nude beach. He writes horror and fantasy and has been
published many times in both the UK and the US. Visit him at:
http://www.myspace.com/darknessgathers

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Available now from Eternal Press

Ruby’s Rules

by Lisabet Sarai

Ruby Maxwell Chen, the beautiful and ruthless CEO of a huge British
business empire, is used to getting her way. When she encounters
American entrepreneur Rick Martell, though, she wonders if she hasn't
finally met her match.

From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and

Rick compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. Neither
has any qualms about using sexual wiles to smooth the path to success.

Neither anticipates that their mutual attraction will turn into

something more intense and difficult to control.

Tell me what you want," I purr. "I'm feeling generous tonight, and just
might grant your request."

He leans toward me in answer, and grasps my chin. Strange

electricity flows from his touch. My breasts ache. I am on fire.

"I want you to take me home with you," he says with a cryptic smile.

And then he kisses me.

I am not sentimental. I am not romantic, susceptible, easily mastered.

But I swear, I could drown in this kiss.

His lips are smooth and full, his tongue demanding. He tastes of

peppermint, and behind that, an aromatic trace of pipe tobacco. I smell
his cologne, something clean, woodsy, Scandinavian.

I do not want to give in, and yet I do. I return his kiss, open my

mouth wide to his probing. He senses my partial surrender, and presses

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20

his advantage. He has slipped his hand inside my vest, now, and is
pinching my nipple hard.

I love it. I am awash with lust. I am dying for him to take me. My sex

is liquid, spilling over. My scent rises in the velvet-draped space. I know
that I cannot hide my desire, but still I try.

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21

Available now from Eternal Press

Jazz Hands

by Eric Erato

A tall and handsome jazzman is intrigued by the proposal of his elegant
female fan: she will do anything he asks, no matter how degrading. As
these two musicians mine the depths of their own darkness and sensual
brutality, they begin to realize how much their basest needs complement
each other. Public sexual displays, dangerous encounters, bizarre
bondage, fetish wear, and total submission mark their descent into the
depths of passion.

"Show me how you touched yourself here in the club while I was
playing." I expected her to balk and to exit the conversation.

We were at the front of a lighted room, having not yet reached the

dark hallway to the exit. But she looked deeply into my eyes, nearly
making me catch my breath, then cast her glance at the floor as she stood
before me, sliding both hands from different directions. The right slipped
down her stomach and the left brushed across her substantial thighs as
they slightly parted. With short but perfectly kept nails, she teased her
thighs and pelvis before pushing two fingers harder across her pussy
from outside her dress.

"No," I told her harshly. "Really touch it if you feel that way. The

dress just masks the depth of your desire." She looked up at me and held
my cruel gaze. A half smile curled my lip. Her face betrayed no emotion
but comfortable resignation as she dropped her hands to her side and
began to steadily hike up the lower portion of the graceful black dress.

Wayne Mansfield

22

She did not look apprehensively at the audience. It was as if only the two
of us occupied the entire room.

People nearest to the right side of the stage had begun to notice us,

but I did not tell her to stop. I did not move my body to block their view,
although it would have been easy to do. Unconsciously, I moved half a
step closer to her, smelling the expensive floral perfume tastefully
pressed on her neck and breast, and as she raised the dress above her
thighs, I smelled her lovely personal musk.

She never hesitated.

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23

Available now from Eternal Press

Secret Santa

by Clare London

While Seb and Jamie are the best of friends they have always had a
problem communicating, but two unlikely Christmas presents are about
to make some long overdue changes to their relationship. Ms. London
writes a Christmas tale about taking a chance and admitting your true
feelings.

But Jamie wasn't listening to that. "I've never tasted them before," he
said, tentatively, his eyes flickering between the dish of berries on the
counter and Seb's face, watching his reaction. "Cranberries."

Seb raised his eyebrows. "No? Here, let me." He picked another one

off the pile and held it out.

Jamie hesitated. His hands stayed by his sides. His eyelids drooped,

making his eyes look sleepy, almost lascivious.

Seb's breath caught in his throat and his eyes narrowed. He took a

couple of steps forward so that he was close up to Jamie. For a second,
they stared into each other's eyes. Seb felt Jamie's breath on his cheek,
felt the brush of a stray blond hair against his neck. "Let me," he
whispered again, and he lifted the cranberry up to Jamie's mouth.

Jamie was shocked at his bold behavior, but this was what he wanted

to do, wasn't it? This was what felt suddenly exciting. He opened his
mouth slightly and Seb-with a sly grin-slowly slid the berry between his
lips.

"Chew on it," Seb murmured. "Get the flavor." He sounded amused,

and his eyes were sparkling. His fingers lingered on Jamie's lips a little

Wayne Mansfield

24

longer than they needed to guide a single, small berry onto his tongue.
He seemed very interested in the path of that berry, too, watching the
way Jamie's mouth closed over it, biting into the sharp, unfamiliar taste.
When Jamie's tongue flickered out to lick a drop of moisture from the
edge of his upper lip, Seb sucked in a breath that sounded painful.