Date: Fri, 28 Oct 2005 09:06:08 -0400 From: Danny Harris <email@example.com> Subject: Another Mike the Soccer Coach 06 (attached) ANOTHER MIKE THE SOCCER COACH Part 6: Speed and Consequences by DannyR Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. Story Codes: M/b, MM/b (6), oral, anal, incest, pedo DISCLAIMER: Some folks apparently have trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality. This story is a fantasy. It didn't happen. Never will. And anyone who attempts to do in real life all or any of the things depicted in the story needs to be hanged, then drawn and quartered, and then turned over to the law for the harshest penalties the law allows. Now that we're clear on what's what, and what's not, read on Part 6: Speed and Consequences This is so not happening. I hadn't thought my Saturday could get more fucked, but it just has. My wife couldn't take care of Josh; she had to go to work. My mother and my sister couldn't take care of him; they had to go shopping and I don't mean for goddamn food. The two regular babysitters were busy, probably getting their cunts dicked by their boyfriends while leaving one of their best customers high and dry. Well, I can't be too mad at both of them. Anita did, after all, suggest a boy at her school who baby sat a lot. I guess she heard the skepticism in my voice, I mean, hell, so it's a stereotype, but I didn't want to leave Josh with some unknown kid who was so much of a geek he was babysitting at 16 when he could be out having fun. She hastened to tell me he was experienced; he took care of his 8-year-old brother a lot, was real responsible, a lifeguard at the Jackson pool and hell, his father was even the chief of police. All of which naturally made my dick hard. Well, natural for a pedo father like me. No images of fairies dancing in my head. Nope, just porn pics of a teenage swimmer jock stud fucking my boy's tight hot cunt while I watched, and maybe letting me rape his teen ass too. Yeah, right. With a police chief for a father? I don't think so. And even with the glowing recommendation, I'm not about to leave Joshie alone with anyone I don't know, no matter how hot the perv images are inside my mind. Okay, so it's not really so bad to have Josh with me all day, and take him to my team's soccer game. Josh could have a good time in the locker room, looking at all the naked 9 and 10 year olds running around. Of course, he already knows what Jimmy and Andy look like since all three were getting fucked side-by-side last week at Sam's Place. Josh's fun time — well, hell, naked boys in the locker room is also a clear perk for the coach who works so hard, well, frequently while he's very hard, for the team — is a maybe yes, maybe no thing. The game is at 1:00; it's now 11:30 and I have to get back to Stonewall City (no, it's not named after the place in New York, it's named after the president) pretty damned quick. We're playing St. Pius today, or we will be if I can get the new uniforms there in time. Damned rules. You start on time, in uniform, or you forfeit. And of course, with the old uniforms given away to some inner city school across the state, the supplier in Schuylerton picked this morning for his delivery truck to break down. Forty-five miles there trying to keep Josh quiet and entertained while driving faster than I should, grabbing the boxes and shoving them into the back seat while trying to resist the urge to throttle the careless bastard who didn't take care of his goddamn trucks, and then heading to the soccer field on always-empty back roads where I can drive even faster. Except the road isn't empty. There's a fucking cop car parked under a tree just off the edge and around a curve, and as I zip by I soon figure the cop isn't happy with how I'm driving. You know, flashing lights and that nasty little blip! with the siren? So here I am at the side of the road debating ending it all by just bashing my head repeatedly into the steering wheel. No fucking way am I getting back in time, once the cop finds out there's a warrant out because of a bunch of unpaid parking tickets. And the cops in Stonewall and Schuylerton and everywhere in between are all good ol' boys eager to help each other out by arresting the bad guys. Did I say it couldn't get worse? The cop is six three, built like a brick shit house, mirror shades, dark thick mustache, cropped hair, not-quite-painted-on uniform. The perfect oh-please-officer-fuck-me road stop fantasy. He comes up to the driver's side and gets my license and registration. His bulge is impressive but I make sure I only glance at it; no staring allowed; especially no gulping. Then he goes around to Josh's side of the car, stands by the door and uses the roof to write on his pad. Now it's okay to perv him a little. I'm sorry the officer died, you remember, the one standing at the driver's side of a car he'd stopped when he got clipped by a hit and run driver who was never caught, but the new rule that requires the officers to deal with traffic stops from the passenger side of the vehicle does have some nice benefits, or at least it does if you're a perv. Of course, inside I'm wondering why he hasn't just hauled me out since he's had time to run my plat...oh, yeah, this is Sharon's car. But still, once he runs my name through his computer he'll be hauling my ass to jail. So I'll enjoy the view while I can. Really nice view, too. The bulge is getting longer and thicker. Much thicker. Straining the fabric on the right side of his pants. I lick my lips and figure this will mean a quick jack-off in the stadium john before the game. But what in the hell is getting him turned on? It can't be me. I'm your average pedo father, not someone who is going to give a macho stud like this a hardon, and besides, all he saw of me was my face and upper body. So what.... Aw, fuck. I should have been looking down and paying attention, not ogling cop meat. The cop is actually standing just a little ways back from the passenger window I opened to keep some ventilation going while we're stopped. He can see right in. And he's looking at Josh. Who has his pants wide open, no underwear, and is playing with his little stiffy. Aw, double fuck. Which came first? The chicken or the egg? My little boy half naked or the cop's hardon? Who the fuck cares? I'm screwed. He's bent over now, resting his arms on the bottom of the window, his ass thrust out and back toward the fields. Oh to be a farmer and able to plow right then, though not in a field. His voice is deep. A soft and furry voice that wraps you up and keeps you warm even on a hot summer day like today. "Are you aware, sir, that your little boy has a hardon?" Before I can gather my wits to say something, Josh does it for me. "Oh, sure. Daddy always knows when I have a stiffy." He smiles proudly at me and then back at the cop. " `n then he helps me with it." I know I've always taught him to respect the law, and to be honest with police officers since they're there to help. But, well, shit, shit, shit! Visions of bubba-fairies begin dancing in my head, around a me that's bent over holding onto the rails of a cell. "I'm sure he does, son. And do you ever help your daddy?" Thank you, Jesus! Josh looks over at me. I'm sure the cop is watching behind those mirrored shades. I nod at Josh while wishing I could see the cop's eyes, and grope my own package. No sense in hiding my own "stiffy." "Oh, yes, sir. Sometimes I get to suck his dickie and drink all his daddy-juice." Josh's voice turns very confiding. "But I like it best when he puts his dick inside my boy cunt." The cop just holds very still. His lips quiver just a little. He swallows. And obviously decides what-the-fuck-go-for-it. "Does your daddy ever let you help other men?" I can tell from Josh's gleeful expression he's just about to spill every bean he or I have ever owned, handled, heard of or even glimpsed. This time I'm fast enough. "Sometimes, officer. And I think you could use a little help, yourself, right now?" There's a long pause. He pulls back a little, looks down the road in both directions and then leans back in. Even behind the shades I know he's doing the calculations. I'm a cop. I'm going to have sex with a kid. It's illegal. Maybe he'll suck my dick. We're on a public goddamned road. I'll cum fast enough. He licks his lips. Nods. "Commando?" "Uh, boxers." "Fine. Now, officer, I know I've been speeding and I'm sure you need to finish writing up that ticket, so if you'll just stand up and use the roof again like you were. Of course, you might be able to work better if you were closer to the car." Fuck, if he gets any closer, his crotch is going to be in my face. This time I nod to Josh. He giggles. Unzipping men and mining for dick is one of his favorite pastimes. I look at my watch. Fine. Now if the cop will just cum quick he can tear up the ticket and I'll drive with a steel rod to the stadium, and still be on time. With just a little hip movement and help from the cop, Josh gets the prick and balls out. We both pause to admire them for a moment. He's probably not even six inches long, but fat, maybe even thicker than Father Sean, and damn, but his balls are big and hairy. Josh has learned to deep throat Father John. He has no problem with the cop, who promptly gasps, and then holds very still. I pop the seatbelt, and scoot closer, whispering very softly to Josh, "Make him cum quick, honey, daddy has to get to the soccer game." Josh's baby lips smirk a little around the thick meat in his mouth. Josh is a truly excellent cocksucker. Natural talent, superb training by his father, and the beginning of a serious long-term and intensive exercise program calling for sucking as many adult dicks as he possibly can, will eventually turn this bronze medalist into a gold medal winner. He goes for the gold immediately and starts bobbing his head rapidly on the cop's dick, doing all the fantastic things with his tongue and lips and mouth and the muscles in his throat that I know so well. Purely in the spirit of assisting my son's physical training, I start fondling the cop's balls, and manage to get my hands between his legs and push my fingers against his asshole, as if I'm going to somehow slide through the trousers and boxers and into his own hole. That must be the trigger because suddenly he reaches one big hairy-knuckled hand down through the window, clamps it on the back of Joshie's head, and starts face fucking my boy good and hard. Joshie is very good and loves taking it very hard. He holds still until suddenly I hear a loud moan from the cop and Josh's cheeks start bulging with what has to be a damned huge load. My kid gulps and swallows several times before the cop finally lets go. I let go of his balls and ass, and he pulls his slimy cock out of my boy's mouth. Josh licks his lips and swallows once more, looking very pleased with himself. I watch the cop struggle a bit to get his still mostly hard cock back inside his pants and himself zipped up. The cop leans down again, resting one arm on the roof and looks in the window, across Josh, and at me. His voice is very cool and business-like. "I am afraid, sir, that I will need you to come back to my car now." No question my face is blank with shock. "Naturally, we can't take a chance leaving a fine young man like this alone in a car, especially so far from town. So he will have to accompany us as well." My mind grinds to a halt. I can't think of any expletives foul enough to express my opinion, even though I'm smart enough to keep my opinion to myself. He knows about the warrant. He fucking knows. The son of a bitch gets a blow job from my little boy, and the prick bastard shithead is still going to arrest me. I'll kill him. I'll, I'll have Rabbi Lebinowitz part his Red Sea and ram a dozen of Pharaoh's chariots up inside. I'll, I'll...I'll get out of the fucking car, come around to Josh's side, get him, zap the doors locked, and walk with a bit of goddamn dignity to the cop's car. He tells us to get in the back. Hell, he doesn't even do the head-holding thing. Unfeeling prick. He goes to the driver's door, opens it, then drops his pad, hat, shades and gun on the driver's seat, closes the door, and gets in back with us What the fuck? For some reason he won't look me in the eyes. He reaches out and gently strokes Josh's cheek. "Thanks, kid. That was really good. One of the best ever." Josh giggles. What little of the cop's expression I can see is a bit nervous. What the fuck has he got to be nervous about? He's having fun and pedo games and if he denies it you know who's going to be believed. "Uh, have you, well, uh, ever helped another daddy like that while your daddy had his dick up your butt?" Josh's big smile answers that question. Now the cop looks at me. Younger than I thought. Big, dark brown eyes. With a look in them that's nervous, god-awful horny, and pleading. Now it's my turn for calculations. Duty to the soccer team. Fucking my little boy while he sucks a cop's dick in the back seat of the cop's car. The even shorter time now to get back. But it's a stud cop who wants to share my boy. No choice at all, really. "One condition. I have to be at the Jackson Elementary soccer game by 12:45. Police escort, sirens and all that shit and I don't care what you have to tell your bosses." The cop's grin is fucking adorable. Huge. It doesn't distract me too much from the speed with which he lifts his hips and shucks his pants and boxers past his knees and pulls his shirt out of the way. He stays by the door, his knees thrust against the back of the driver's seat, his legs spread. Josh gets naked fast. Of course, he's hardly got any clothes on to begin with, and is quickly kneeling on the seat leaning over the cop and plunging his mouth down on the cock that's standing straight up. I manage to get my own pants around my ankles, and then on my knees, too, on the seat. No time for subtlety, niceties. I drop several globs of spit on my cock and smear it around with the precum that's been leaking, slime two fingers of my right hand in my mouth, and then thrust them up inside my little boy's hole. He just takes it like the, dare I say it, trooper that he is. I yank my fingers out, grab my little boy's waist and line my well-trained cock right at the entrance it has split so very many times now. Joshie lifts his head and says, "Oh, daddy, please fuck me." He deep throats the cop. What's a father to do? I slide my meat home, balls deep in a single thrust, and then pull out almost as fast, going from slow to power-fuck in just a few seconds. Slut Josh loves power fucks. My fingers are still slimy with my spit, Josh's ass juices. I decide to see how far the cop will go. I brace myself with my left arm on the back of the seat, continue fucking Josh, raise my fingers to the cop's mouth. His eyes tell me he knows where I'm going with this. He opens his mouth, moves forward to suck in my fingers, moaning at the tastes and then gets both even wetter. When I slide them out, dripping saliva, I look down. He spreads his legs and slumps down so his butt cheeks are closer to the edge. Yeah, he knows right where they're going, and a moment later, that's where they are, rammed up his moist hairy hole. We all start going a little crazy. Me with fucking my kid, the cop face fucking my boy while writhing on the fingers fucking his ass, fucking his prostate. The cop moans. "Christ! Oh yeah. Fuck. Oh yeah oh yeah. Little boy suckin' my dick, daddy fuckin' his kid, finger fuckin' me. Aw, fuck, shit, I'm cumming!" He clamps his hands on my kid's head, holding him in place with his nose in the cop's pubes as he fucks my boy's mouth good and hard with the last few strokes and fills his mouth with what seems like even more cum than the first time while his asshole tries to chop my fingers off. I'm no more than a second behind and Josh gets his first daddy-fuck of the day. After this, both he and I will need at least one more. Just a bit later. I let us all slump and breathe heavily for only a moment. Then it's time to get this fucking show on the road. I pull my cock out of Josh's ass, make a circle of thumb and forefinger and strip the cum and slime off my meat and onto my palm. The cop leans over before I can do anything and licks it off, then looks up at me with a pleased smile, almost like he's asking for a pat on the head for being so good and cleanly. Feeling like the cop who keeps shouting "move it move it move it" in those movies, I get us all dressed in record time. Josh scrambles across my lap and is out the door. I'm just starting to move, when the cop puts his hand on my shoulder, turns me back, and pulls me into a very fast, very hard kiss. He lets me go and yanks a card out of his pocket. He hands it to me and whispers in my ear. And then we're both out of the car. The cop car's wheels spit dirt back at me as he gets back on the road. Then I'm lined up behind him and we're moving. Josh is seat-belted in. A mile later, as we turn onto the highway where we can really move for the last few miles, given the siren and all that jazz, I look at my watch. Yeah, we'll make it. I glance at the card on my dash, with the cop's name, home address, and phone number. And then there's what he whispered. About how if I choose to speed, I have to be willing to accept the consequences. And that he wants me and Josh to meet his son. Real soon. The boy is two. My dick gets stiff. That's a consequence I can live with.