Saturday Night

By Leigh Wilder

Copyright Leigh Wilder 2012

Smashwords edition

Cover art copyright ladykassie at Dreamstime Stock Photos

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Saturday night was as exciting as things got for a cop in Underwood, Ohio. If very lucky

Charlie got to go break up a bar fight, but he spent most of his time chasing after the drunks
when they decided to drive home. Dean Miller didn't even try to get into his truck. He walked
over to Charlie's patrol car and handed him his keys. “Can you gimmie a ride?” Dean asked, and
without a word Charlie opened the back and let him fall into the car.

Dean lived seven miles outside of town. Charlie drove him out to his place and had to

half-carry him to the door and, when he couldn’t find the house key among the dozens of keys on
Dean's key ring, dumped him on the porch swing. It was a warm night—he would be fine.

Charlie turned around in Dean’s open yard and headed back the way he came. The road

he drove was narrow and badly paved. Most of the concrete had turned to gravel over the years.
He wasn't expecting a rust-crusted pickup to come flying around the corner towards him, going
too fast to stop. Charlie reacted, veering right even as the truck pulled to the left, but the wheels
of the patrol car slid, and he nose-dived into the drainage ditch alongside the road. His body
jerked with the impact, the seatbelt cutting into his torso, but the patrol car’s air bags did not
deploy. Piece of junk, Charlie thought as he managed to free himself from seatbelt bondage, and
climbed out of the car.

The truck had stopped a few yards behind him. Asshole. Charlie touched the cuffs on his

belt. He was so going to enjoy arresting this jerk. The only light came from the full moon
overhead, and the red tail lights of both cars. His perp was getting out of the cab of the truck, but
Charlie couldn’t see his face until almost upon him. “Jake Miller.”

Jake squinted in the odd light. “Charlie Randolph? Who made a cop?”
“The same ones who let you out of prison too early.” They were not friends, though to a

casual observer they might have been. Thirteen years in the same school system and Charlie had

never gotten up the nerve to approach Jake. Jake was too cool, too dangerous. So dangerous he
didn’t make it through their senior year. Arrested for arson, Jake had spent the last seven years
behind bars.

“Hey, I’m rehabilitated,” Jake protested. “Got my GED, got my an associates in

accounting—”

“Who on earth would hire a pyromaniac accountant?” Charlie didn’t want to bait Jake,

but the sarcasm was a mask for the sudden nervousness of being confronted with Jake Miller for
the first time in seven years. An old school crush he thought long-dead came flooding back in an
instant.

“My uncle for one,” Jake said, referring to the drunken Dean, which brought Charlie back

to the whole point of their bizarre conversation.

“You ran me off the road,” Charlie accused. “Have you been drinking?” There was a

faint aroma of alcohol around Jake.

“You weren’t supposed to be on that road,” Jake said. “So I had a few beers—gimmie a

break. I’ve only been a free man for a few weeks. Let me enjoy myself.”

“Hands on your vehicle sir,” Charlie said, knowing he needed to get control of the

situation, fast.

“Look, I’ll give you a ride into town and Uncle Dean and me will pull your car out in the

morning. No harm no foul, right?”

“Are you resisting arrest?” Charlie asked.
“You haven’t arrested me yet,” Jake pointed out, but he did as he was told with a sigh,

turning around and putting both hands on the edge of the truck bed. “You used to be so soft and
easy going.”

Soft. Charlie burned at the word, and was glad Jake wasn’t looking at him. So he’d been a

bit of a pushover in school. Now he had power. Now he was in charge. Now he had Jake’s
round, perfect jean-clad ass right in front of him, and he was in heaven. He frisked him with
more care than necessary, running his hands over Jake’s biceps and hard, muscular torso. While
he wasn’t learning how to be an accountant Jake had definitely been working out.

Charlie ran his hands down the outsides of Jake’s legs and up his inseam, and that was

when Jake took a sudden side-step and Charlie’s hand landed squarely on the other man’s crotch.

“Officer, I do believe that is sexual assault,” Jake said, but it wasn’t so much his words as

his tone made Charlie pull away. Jake wasn’t upset, and he wasn’t making a joke. He turned
around to face Charlie. “You’ll need to take me out to dinner first.” Charlie stared at him. Jake
had done it on purpose. Jake grinned at him, and before Charlie knew what happened Jake had
grabbed him and pulled him close, his lips smashing against Charlie’s and his hands scrabbling
all over his waist.

It was a very unprofessional situation, even worse because Jake was a convicted felon,

but at the moment Charlie didn’t care. He opened his mouth to Jake and tasted the beer on his
lips, took in the rugged smell of sweat and soap on Jake’s body. All of his horny teenage
daydreams were coming true, kissing Jake Miller under a full moon.

The fantasy died when he felt cold metal snap around one of his wrists. Jake had gotten

his cuffs off his belt.

The ensuing struggle was intense and fast as Charlie tried to wriggle out of Jake’s grasp,

but Jake had strength and size on his side and before Charlie knew what had happened his wrists
were securely fastened behind his back and Jake had him in a choke hold.

“You should have been on the wrestling team with me, Charlie-boy,” Jake said. “We

would have had so much fun together.”

“This is not funny,” Charlie growled. “I am an officer of the law. You are under arrest—”

He stopped because he knew how ridiculous it sounded. He was completely at Jake’s mercy,
though he didn’t know what that meant.

Jake let him free. “I think I may have picked up some...inclinations…while in prison,” he

said conversationally. “But you, you’ve always had them, haven’t you Charlie? The way you
used to watch me when you didn’t think I was looking. Oh yes,” he said when he looked into
Charlie’s incredulous face. “I’ve always known.”

“Why didn’t you do anything?” Charlie asked, slightly humbled. Jake could have made

his high school career a living hell, but he hadn’t.

Jake shrugged. “I never really bothered me. I kinda liked the idea of someone being

desperately in love with me. I used imagine you, all alone in your geeky little room, rubbing one
off into a sock while thinking of yours truly.” He touched his chest.

“And you say these ‘inclinations’ are only recent?” Charlie asked, annoyed and

extremely turned on. He wondered if Jake had noticed the bulge growing in his pants through
their entire encounter. His cock throbbed almost unpleasantly encased in his suddenly too-tight
briefs.

“Whatever,” Jake said. He stepped towards him, and Charlie took a step backwards into

the open door of the pickup. Jake grinned at him and pressed up close to climb into the driver’s
side. Jake’s ancient truck had one long bench instead of buckets, making life almost too easy.
Charlie recognized it as the truck Jake drove when they were teenagers. Jake leaned over to pop
the glove compartment and retrieve a tube of KY and a handful of condoms.

“You keep lube and condom’s in your glove box?” Charlie asked as Jake hopped back

down to the ground in front of him.

Jake examined a condom. The foil crackled when he ripped it open and checked the

contents. When he pulled at the condom the latex snapped. “I did when I was seventeen,” he said
with a frown. “These are a little old,” he said apologetically. “I got tested right after I got out—
I’m clean. How about you?”

“Clean,” he echoed, both confused and excited. How had this happened? How did he end

up so lucky, and what the hell kind of trouble was he going to get into if someone found out
about it?

“Excellent.”
“You think I’m going to have sex with you just because you assume I had a thing for you

in high school?”

“You did have a thing for me,” Jake said, grabbing him and pulling him close, their

mouths inches apart as he spoke. “You wanted me to take you and fuck you for hours. You
wanted me to fill your ass and spray my cum all over you. Isn’t that right?”

Charlie didn’t answer because he didn’t want to admit what Jake said was true, while at

the same time marveling at his ability to read his mind so perfectly. “So do it,” he said, and
leaned forward to taste Jake’s lips again.

Their kissing became desperate and frantic, and Jake fumbled with Charlie’s belt and fly.

His pants undone, the weight of his belt helped pull them down his legs, and he was half-naked
and cuffed in the middle of the road with Jake grabbing at his cock, not at all gentle with his
strokes, and Charlie didn’t care. If his hands were free he would have returned the favor, but he
could only moan against Jake’s mouth. Jake pulled away with a grin. “You like that, Charlie-

boy? You want more?” He continued to grasp Charlie’s cock with a firm grip as he unbuttoned
the fly of his jeans one-handed and freed his own cock, a little long and a little narrow, the exact
opposite of Charlie’s which was rather short and thick.

Jake let go of Charlie’s dick and climbed up to sit sideways in the driver’s seat of the

truck, and Charlie knelt on the running board (more comfortable than the gravel on the road). It
groaned under his weight, but held, and Charlie slid Jake’s cock into his mouth. The taste was
sweat-salty and erotic. Out of practice (he’d been in the country for too long) Charlie gagged a
little as Jake thrust forward down his throat, but soon had recovered his skills. He was an
excellent cocksucker.

Jake let out several appreciative moans while Charlie worked, sucking and licking his

entire length. He knew Jake was getting close as he licked pre-cum off the head of his prick. He
pulled away. “I thought you were going to fuck me in the ass,” he said.

Jake laughed. “Switch places?” he suggested, and they re-arranged themselves so Charlie

was laying on his stomach on the seat, cock and ass hanging over the edge. Jake stood on the
running board now, holding onto the doorframe for balance while he greased up his dick with the
seven year old tube of lube. He spread more between Charlie’s cheeks and it was Charlie’s turn
moan as Jake pressed first one finger and then another against his hole.

“Just shove it in there,” he gasped. He’d wanted this for so long; foreplay was not exactly

a top priority.

“You like it rough? My kind of cop.”
Charlie felt Jake position himself at his entrance and Jake slammed home, nearly taking

Charlie’s breath away. He gasped at the sudden feeling of fullness as Jake’s cock pushed deep
inside of him. Jake pulled out and repeated his strokes. “I was on your end most of my time in
prison,” he grunted as he slammed into Charlie again and again. He reached around to grasp
Charlie’s cock with his still slippery hand and matched his rhythm stroke for stroke. With each
movement Charlie could feel Jake hitting his prostate, their awkward position in the truck cab
giving a surprisingly good angle. “I’m afraid I’m not—” more grunting “—going to last very
long—ah!”

He pulled out quickly, squirting semen all over the small of Charlie’s back and his cuffed

hands. Feeling the hot fluid spattering against his skin Charlie came as well, Jake managing to
continue pumping his cock as his load spattered against the truck’s seat.

Jake jumped down from the running board and leaned his face against one of Charlie’s

ass cheeks. He began to laugh. “Oh my God,” he managed to gasp between chuckles. “I can’t
believe I did that.”

Charlie awkwardly slid off the seat, getting his own cum on his thighs, Jake’s dripping

down his ass. He felt thoroughly debauched. It had been a while. “Will you uncuff me now?” he
asked.

“Will you arrest me?” Jake countered.
Charlie gave him a pained look. “What do you think?” Jake hiked his jeans back up and

tucked his softening prick back inside and bent down to fish Charlie’s keys from his belt. Jake
licked at the cum on Charlie’s leg on his way back up and turned Charlie around, unlocking the
cuffs.

His arms were sore from being held behind his back for so long, and he stretched them

before wiping Jake’s cum off on his uniform shirt. “If you ever do that again—” Charlie started,
but Jake shook his head.

“How about we take turns,” Jake said. “And next Saturday you can arrest me.” He

dangled the open cuffs in Charlie’s face and he snatched them up, trying hard not to grin.

“Why wait until Saturday?” he asked, and snapped a cuff on Jake’s unsuspecting wrist.

“Let’s go again.”

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About the Author:
Leigh Wilder has been writing for 17 years and has published multiple stories in the erotica
genre. Please visit her blog: http://leighwilder.blogspot.com/ for free stories and a list of her
complete works, and follow her on Twitter @leighwilder42