Highway Patrol

Highway Patrol

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?

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Wayne Mansfield 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 206 - 6059 Pandora St. Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada, V5B 1M4 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.

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Highway Patrol

Highway Patrol Wayne Mansfield

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Wayne Mansfield

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? 4

Highway Patrol “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.” 5

Wayne Mansfield “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 6

Highway Patrol 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. 7

Wayne Mansfield “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. 8

Highway Patrol “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. 9

Wayne Mansfield “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. 10

Highway Patrol 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.” 11

Wayne Mansfield 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 12

Highway Patrol 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. 13

Wayne Mansfield “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 14

Highway Patrol 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.” 15

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

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Highway Patrol “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.

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Wayne Mansfield

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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Highway Patrol

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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Wayne Mansfield 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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Highway Patrol

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.

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Wayne Mansfield 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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Highway Patrol

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 23

Wayne Mansfield 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.

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