Fight For Your Rights: Fireworks by James Buchanan

Fireworks

© 2010 by James Buchanan

Forth of July and I’m cleaning a swimming pool – not at a party or BBQ, but just me and Jose’s pool and the New Mexico sun.

Jose didn’t have a swimming pool in his back yard…he had a swimming pool that was his back yard. It took up the whole length of the house and the ten feet between the back wall and the cinderblock fence. And I was walking around that July-sun baked expanse of hot concrete dragging the net through the pool and sweating like a pig. Me, Tim: pizza delivery guy, college Junior and unofficial pool-boy.

Oh, yeah, and all around fuck toy for Jose Alverenga, Doña Ana Sheriff’s Deputy.

Since I’d met Deputy Alverenga back in October, we’d evolved into first names and a regular thing. I guess ‘meeting’ isn’t quite right, ‘cause that sounds like we hooked up in a bar or something. He pulled me over and I managed to wiggle out of an underage DUI, since I can use my mouth for a lot better things than talking. Of course now I didn’t have to worry about the underage part of it any more…I could actually sit down and have a beer with my boyfriend.

I joke about the fuck toy part, because it’s really hard explaining to all my friends why I’d rather hang out with a guy, a police officer, who’s fifteen years older than me. But Jose is like, the coolest guy ever.  Even if he does make me clean the pool.

I looked up from skimming the water when I heard something crash in the house. Shit. I figured I ought to go see what fell over. I hoped it wasn’t the trash bag sitting next to the side door. Since Jose had special duty that morning – crowd control for the annual way-too-early-for-sane-people-to-be-up allegedly fun-run – I told him I’d take out the trash when I got up.  Then I went back to sleep and completely spaced it until now.

Crap. I needed to get it cleaned up before Jose got home. I dropped the skimmer on the pool deck and jogged to the back door. When I grabbed the knob and tried to turn it, nothing happened. I hoped to hell I hadn’t locked myself out. Then I figured there was a more reasonable explanation, especially when I heard the snort of laughter on the other side. “You’re an asshole, Jose.”

“Watch your mouth, twink! You’re talking to a cop, you know?”  Jose finally opened the back door and leaned against the frame. “What are you doing out there, Tim?” Big, burly with dark hair and dark skin and still in uniform. And my friends have to ask what I see in him?

“Cleaning your goddamn pool.” I glared at him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He leered at me. “But you’re wearing shorts.”

“You not only want me to be your pool boy, you want me to do it naked?”

“Hell yeah.” He stepped out onto the patio and pulled me close. All those buttons and pins and the big buckle on his duty belt pressed into my nearly bare body. “That’s why I pay you so good.”

“You don’t pay me.” I wiggled a bit against him. “Besides I’d get a sun-burn where I really don’t want one and you got neighbors.”

He cocked his head to the left where the garage wall took up the length of the yard. “I got the garage on this side, eight-foot wall in the back and why the hell do you think I don’t complain about the idiot next door’s nasty ass oleander growing out of control on that side.” Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of my speedos, Jose grinned and began to tug them down. “And there ain’t a two story house for miles.”

I didn’t fight him. “You’re a pervert.” In fact my pulse started to pound. The only thing that hung him up was how hard my dick had gotten in the last two seconds.

Jose slid one hand around front and slipped it down the front of my suit. As he cupped my dick in that big paw he used the pressure of his wrist to push the fabric off. “What, I got myself a hot little twenty year—“

“Twenty-one.” I corrected. The shorts slipped down around my ankles.

“Twenty-one year old piece of ass,” with my shorts down he grabbed by butt cheeks and punctuated his statement by squeezing, “and I’m not allowed to perve on it? There is no God then.” He laughed as he walked me backward a few feet. Then Jose pushed me. I stumbled back and dropped, hard, onto the big molded plastic lounge chair.

There I am, sprawled back on that hot seat, my legs sprawled on either side with my shorts tangled around one ankle and my dick, up, ready and already leaking pre-cum. A lot of it had to do with that stud in uniform standing above me. Jose’s got his cop attitude and cop stance going gang busters. How he managed to maintain either while he unbuckled that big, black duty belt, I have no clue.

Jose dropped the belt on the ground and then knelt with one knee between my legs. “I need that ass of yours.” He growled as he reached behind my head. Jerking the back of the lounge, he ratcheted it up to about forty-five degrees. Then he laughed, reached down and caught my ankle, the one with the trunks. “Let’s get you comfortable.” He tugged and pulled so that I slid down onto my back. Once I was where he wanted me, Jose pushed my leg up over my head.

“I don’t really bend like this well.” I might have protested, but I wasn’t about to say no.

He reached back with his other hand and grabbed my free leg at the knee. “You’ll do fine.” Somehow Jose managed to get my other leg up. I’m laying on my back, ass rolled up towards the sun and my legs up at the top of the chair and shit if I didn’t get even harder.  I could feel the little trickle of pre-cum slip off my dick and mix with the sweat pooling on my stomach.

“Goddamn, that’s my horny little twink huh?” He laughed. “Hold on to your knees for a moment.” After I reached up and did like he said, Jose grabbed the loose leg of my swim trunks.  He wrestled my other ankle into the proper place, but didn’t slide them down.  Instead he used both hands to shove my ankles farther apart as he pushed them back a little more and then hooked the material behind the top of the chair.  He leered down at me. “I’d start holding onto the sides so you don’t fall off.”

“Shit!” I latched on. With the sun beating down and the plastic on my back I was sweating like crazy. Jose wrestled with his fly with one hand. The other he used to hold my ass in place so he could spit. “Oh, fuck.”

Jose laughed, “Yeah, you’re going to get fucked alright.” Then he spit in my ass again. He used a couple of fingers to work it in, before adding more spit. A few times he caught the dribble off my dick and used that too. “I think that’s about as good as that’s going to get.” He growled and moved up between my legs.

With my ass up in the air like that, he had to lean over me. The feral look on his face made my dick hurt with how sexy it was. Jose rubbed his dick against my hole for a while, adding the slickness leaking out of his head to the mix. He pulled back, spit again and then shoved his dick in just a bit.

My knuckles went white grabbing the sides of the chair and I moaned hard. It was rough, real rough, but Jose didn’t try and drill me. He’d let me get used to what I had up my ass already before adding more. Finally he was in enough that he could actually start fucking me. By that point I was so horny and so into it I didn’t care about the little bite the friction caused.

My back was screaming from being bent up like that and his weigh pounding me into the hard plastic. And the little needles shooting down my legs as he braced himself on the back of my thighs, tore me up with needing him. Every single bit of me focused on this gooey mass of pain that that mixed up inside of me and transformed into the most intense and incredible feeling I’d ever had.

With my brain off in some other dimension, I barely heard him grunt, “Shit.” Jose jerked out of me and stood up. His dick poised right over my butt, he finished himself off with a couple of hard strokes and painted my hole, my balls and my dick with his cum. After taking a moment to breathe, Jose reached over and jerked the shorts from behind the back of the chair. Of course that made the chair back come loose and it flopped down another notch or two. Jose caught one of my legs before I accidentally hit is his face with my foot.

“Now, Timmy boy.” That leer was back in full force. “Time to jack-off.”

I made a show of it for him. I braced one foot up on his thigh, the other leg I let dangle off the lounge. Spread myself wide and rubbed his cum all over my dick. It felt so good jerking his spunk into the skin of my prick. Every so often I’d reach down and finger my ass. After the riding I’d gotten, it’ didn’t take much. That fading mass of pain moved down as heat into my balls. All my nerves sparked and I blew. I just kept milking it up for him so Jose could watch.  Finally, I didn’t have any more. I closed my eyes and fell back, boneless, on the chair.

Frankly, the other reason I ignore my friends about why I’m with Jose…I liked the torment. The way he builds it up until I can barely take it. I like when he does shit like this to me. There isn’t anyone I know my own age who could do what he does, like he does for me.

“Okay, lazy bones.” The snap of his belt across the side of my thigh brought me out of my stupor. “Get that hot twink ass in the house and get me a beer.” He started stripping his uniform off. “As long as you promise no more trunks, you can have one to.”

I struggled out of the chair. “You got it, Jose.”

“Great, glad you understand me.” He grinned as he tugged his t-shirt over his head. “Clean yourself up, then get in the pool with me. I’ll grill us some steaks later.”

“We going go to watch fireworks later?” It was the fourth after all.

“Why bother?” Pulling the t-shirt between his hands, Jose laughed. Then he let go of one end and snapped my butt with the fabric. “More fun making more of our own later.”

Written by James Buchanan

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Tags: Alverenga and Tim, free fiction, James Buchanan