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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N


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Archive name: Standoff.txt (mf, v, death)
Authors name: (c)1995 Kurt Hoffman
Story Title : The Standoff

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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1997.
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
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	The doorbell must have been ringing for some
time, it becoming apparent only when I shut the water
off. Still dripping, I stepped up to the toilet and
watched a thick stream of pee dash the surface of the
clear water. The ringing continued at tactful intervals.
Still spraying my amber charge, I let go of my dick,
enjoying the recklessness of spraying the floor. I mused
over whether to flush.

	I opened the door, naked but for a towel. Muggy
air smelling of mown grass curled around my already damp
body. A slight air current stretched a rivulet of steam
from my arm, the hand clasping shut my frayed towel.

	The police cowered behind the doors of their
squad cars, guns drawn, lips clenched. Two standing men
with rifles advanced towards me. They wore tight tawny
uniform pants. The fat of their bellies poured over worn
leather belts. A squirrel hopped across the lawn between
me and my audience. Birds twittered. The two men could
be heard gasping slightly as they squinted and crept. I
calculated that it would take a half hour for them to
reach the doorway at their pace. I took my right nipple
between my index finger and thumb, and began to knead it
lightly. Hardness gathered in my cock.

	"Who is it out there, honey?" my wife called
from the cellar.

	I let the towel drop from my waist. My cock
stood, hard and pulsing. I leaned sideways against the
door frame. The collective astonishment of the assembled
was palpable. I raised an eyebrow and continued pulling
slowly at my nipple.

	A young officer ventured out from behind his car
door, at first still crouching and aiming. As he neared,
he paused and warily lowered his gun. This one hadn't a
touch of fat; broad shoulders and muscular. He had heavy
lidded eyes with dark half moons below. His dark whisker
shadow suggested a very hairy man. This was borne out as
he removed his shirt and strode towards me. The summer
breeze bore his musk to my nostrils before he was ten
paces away. As he stood immediately before me, he
loosened his policeman's belt and opened his fly.

	I looked blankly at him and began to stroke my
dick slowly. The riflemen continued to aim at my
temples.  The young officer smacked me across the face.
He too was raging hard now. I tasted a little blood from
somewhere stream into the corner of my mouth. Instinc-
tively, I fell to my knees. The officer opened his pants
further, and a gorgeously proportioned staff of dickwood
emerged. He looked down at me coldly. I drew a delicate
line with my tongue along the side of his dick. The dick
surged responsively. I lifted his balls lightly with my
tongue, and continued, headward, with the flat of my
tongue. A glistening spill of precum oozed onto my
tongue upon reaching the summit. The cop, evidently
approving, grabbed my hair and held my head still as he
fucked it like a melon. I gagged and felt his dick
quickly bruising the back of my throat. The flavor of
his dick was incredibly pungent, saline and gamy. I
tried to catch my breath, but found his huge cock lung-
ing again and again deep in my mouth. Drool spilled from
the corner of my mouth.

	The riflemen ditched their guns on the lawn and
were walking their fat asses my way. As I continued my
business with the young officer, I felt my legs be
spread apart from behind as I knelt. A cold nightstick
played against my inner thighs. It bounced against my
lower butt, and surprised me by giving my balls a crisp
little whack now and again. My dick felt like it would
burst with come. It leaked and leaked as my balls grew
swollen and sore.

	The nightstick now dug into my butthole. The
pain it caused was at first quite delicious, though it
quickly grew unbearably severe. I involuntarily cried
in pain; tears came to my eyes. I felt my calves pressed
to the ground by leather soles. The nightstick began
shifting direction. I thought I would faint. The
enormous dick crammed itself deeper into my throat. I
used my hands to cling to the waist of the young of-
ficer. I continued to cry in pain as the rifleman
rammed the nightstick in and out of my asshole. The
movement grew quicker as the pole became viscous with
slime. Come welled ominously in my balls. A hand reached
around my chest and tore at a nipple.

	Perhaps seized by a sense of civic duty, several
more officers joined the gathering and set upon me with
their fists. As the night stick tore through my rectum
in a dramatic motion, I involuntarily began coming. Come
shot out of my dick for a yards soaking my own chest and
chin, certainly ruining the young officer's uniform
trousers. For his part, a sudden, five pulse orgasm
spewed a huge clot of come down my throat. I fell back-
wards, oblivious to the stick hanging out of my butt, to
my great distress. Come and piss rained down on me as I
squirmed in pain and ecstasy.

	Doors slammed and police cars burned rubber for
an instant before tearing away.

	The sun had shifted substantially before I re-
gained consciousness. I wiped the tears and other glue
from my eyes. A squirrel stood close by on its hind
legs. I turned my aching back to the sod and drew in
the balmy air. A jet flew overhead, a tiny speck out-
distancing a dim roar.

	My wife, who once again had amused herself by
calling the cops, offered tea sandwiches on a little
tray. When swallowing proved difficult, she pressed
little bits of chewed sandwich past the swelling in my
throat with her fingers. We held hands and waited for
the kids to return from daycamp.

Kristen's collection - Directory 5