Steamy Dorm

by Kristine Robinson

  “YEAHHHHHH! YEAAAHHHHHH!”

  The men stood up. They clapped. Hooted. Howled. They stomped their feet and slapped hands and hugged.

  Colin sat unmoved. Hands in his lap. Completely disgusted. What had he become?

  What was he about to do?

  Chapter 5

  Joel drove his car slowly through downtown. People filled the streets, streaming up and down the strip. They were loud, drunk, and beginning to get a bit rowdy. But there was no need for him to stop. All he needed to do was prowl, every now and then hit the lights and siren. That always shook them up. But he was in a calm mood. Saturday night patrol. 1015. He usually headed back to the station to take his break at this time. But on that night, he decided to stay out. He didn't feel like seeing any of the guys. Being around them only would have served to make him feel even lonelier. He didn’t need anything bringing his mood done. Being alone in his cruiser was the perfect place for him.

  And then a neon sign yanked him out of his state of calm. Bottoms up.

  He gripped the steering wheel tightly and gritted his teeth. He had gone past this place so many damn times. His cock throbbed in his pants, filling angrily with blood. He put the window down. He heard a commotion coming from the parking lot.

  He turned on the lights and siren. Made a sharp U-turn and hurried to the scene of the disturbance. He slammed on the brakes. Skiddddddeeedddd. He hopped out and slammed the door. He rushed towards two men who were pushing each other, their fists raised, their shirts off.

  Joel ran in between the two bare-chested combatants. He put a hand on each of their chests. “Hey, you guys. Break it up. I don’t want have to take you in.”

  “I fucking love you,” one of the men said, nearly breaking down in tears.

  “I love you too, you fucking asshole,” the other one said.

  Joel looked from one to the other. He wasn't sure what to make of this. Both men were panting, crying. Both seemed moved by genuine emotions.

  Joel could feel so many emotions bubbling up inside of him. This was such a strange feeling. Both of these men were so damn masculine and powerful. Not quite his size. But not much smaller. He reached down and grabbed the hard bulge in his pants.

  He looked towards the building, the neon sign, Bottoms Up. He could hear the techno music pulsating. It made his blood flow faster. Made his heart beat faster. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. His mind began to wander. Another Saturday night, rolling around in his cruiser, worrying about what life could be, wishing his life were different, was that what he was really going to do?

  No, he couldn't do that. He'd already done it so many times. Not again! He would go fucking crazy. He would end up doing something stupid and getting himself kicked off the force. Forced into another life. No, he couldn't do that. He had to get control of himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? He never spent this much time worrying about his emotions or feelings. That’s not why he had become a cop. That’s not why he put on that uniform. He just did what he was told. Followed orders. That was his life.

  “Thank you so much, man,” one of the big, burly, crying men said, putting his hands on Joel’s shoulders.

  “Thank you, officer,” the one behind said, wrapping his arms around his torso. They were hugging him from both sides, their crotches pressing into him from both sides. He was being spit-roasted in this bear hug, by two bears, two big, burly, hairy, powerful men. So masculine. Their tears dripped on his uniform. He held them both. He wanted to kiss them both, stripped them both naked, engage in rough, dirty, bareback, stinky, full-blooded, uninhibited, drunken, bareback fuck sessions for hours. He would love to do that with them. But he was a man in uniform. He was behind the blue wall. That blue wall of homophobia, which kept him separated from his brothers. His true homoerotic brotherhood.

  The two bears hugged, then walked back towards the club holding hands. They stopped. One of them looked over his shoulder. “Officer, you should come in. You would like it.”

  Joel stared at them for a moment without answering. Then he swallowed hard and turned red.

  “No, sorry. But I have to stay in uniform. Have a good night.”

  Joel turned away from them. He was shaking. Adrenaline rushed throughout his body. What had just happened?

  They had asked him to come into the club, to come play with them? Was that what had really happened? Had he really turned down the opportunity to live out a fantasy—playing with two men?

  He walked back to his patrol car and sat in silence in the parking lot for a few minutes. He didn't know what to think. He felt like he’d taken a few kicks and punches to the face. He was dazed, concussed, confused. He struggled to make sense of what was going on and where he was going.

  He gripped the steering, breathing heavily, trying to get his emotions under control. He couldn’t stay there. He didn’t want to be seen in that parking lot under any circumstances.

  He quickly revved the engine, then roared out of the parking lot. He ended up a few blocks west. He turned left into a parking garage and drove up to the third floor.

  A sleepy, Mexican attendant lowered a copy of the Sacramento Star and smiled.

  “How are you, Manuel?” Colin asked.

  “Everything good, Boss. How can I help you?”

  Colin reached under the seat and pulled out a white envelope. He extended it out the window towards the grubby looking man. The man’s eyes lit up and he almost dislocated his arm, reaching out for the envelope. Colin smiled and quickly pulled it back.

  “Relax, Manuel,” Colin said taunting the poor bastard. “I need you to cover me on 6. Ok?”

  Joel drove up to the sixth floor of the parking garage, shaking his head, marveling at how far Manuel had fallen. Some of the older guys still whispered about him around the department. You had to be one of the old timers to remember him. He should have been a top line detective by now. Maybe even FBI. But he didn’t know how to resist robbing suspects, which was bad enough. But he also couldn’t resist breaking into the evidence room. Damn shame!

  Joel parked his cruiser and popped the trunk. He walked back to it and pulled out a shopping bag with a spare outfit. Nothing fancy. Jeans and a button-down. That’s all he would need. He regretted not having a cock ring with him. Those things always made him feel so fucking sexy, hard and full, locked and loaded. But he wouldn’t worry about that. He just wanted to be in that bar, feeling the energy, finally breaking through that blue wall that had held him back for so long.

  Those days were over. He was ready to live. Ready to be free.

  Chapter 6

  Michael jumped up and down on the dance floor. Strobe lights swirled around him. A fat drag queen with a huge blond wig was singing on stage, while go-go boys with nothing but their underwear on, beautiful chest exposed, danced around her, gyrating their hips to the music—some of them with their asses open, some sporting G strings. They were all so damn sexy. There was a pole in the middle of the stage. Every now and then one of the boys would jump onto the pole, turn themselves upside down, and slither back down to the stage, reaching out and catching the dollar bills thrown in his direction.

  “OH MY GOD,” Michael screamed. “THIS IS FUCKING INCREDIBLE!”

  Nobody could hear him scream. He could hardly hear it himself. That’s how loud the pulsating club was. More than fifty people sweated, jumped, turned, twisted and made out on the packed dance floor. Neon lights. Strobe lights. Fog machine. Horns and whistles. It was a magical dream world. Michael felt honored to finally be a part of it. He’d gone past this bar so many times, burning up with desire and curiosity. What wonders could it possibly hold? And now he was here, experiencing it in the flesh. His wild dancing carried him in front of a smaller stage area where some very interesting games were being played.

  Michael's mouth gaped open. His eyes filled with lust. His cock grew even harder. The cock ring and frequent hits on the bottle ensured that his cock stayed hard for hours. And his hungry ass was loose, ready to take a bi
g cock deep in his hole.

  There were two dancers wearing nothing but sneakers. Their slim, muscular bodies glistened with oil. Their hard cocks pointed straight into the air. They were stroking back and forth, enjoying the admiring that were glued to them. Moments later there were two guys on their knees in front of them, stroking them, sucking them. The two naked dudes who were getting blown started kissing each other, rubbing each other's chests.

  A fully clothed man, who looked like he may have worked at the bar, came around with an open bottle of poppers. He passed it to each one of the performers. Michael smiled and reached into his pocket for his own bottle. None of the guys on stage refused a hit, taking the nitrates deep into, taking themselves higher and higher. Michael did the same, taking two long sniffs in each nostril.

  Michael wanted nothing more than to drop his pants and let a top penetrate him from the back while someone dropped to their knees and blew him from the front.

  Wow! What an amazing feeling! It felt so good to be in this place. Full of fun people, drunk people, sexy, horny people. He was home! At last, he had a found a place that he could call! A place where he could finally be part of a brotherhood! He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle, twisted off the cap, put it under one nostril, then the other, eyes closed, inhaling deeply.

  WOW!!!!!

  He put the bottle back in his pocket. He closed his eyes and spun around in a circle, spinning and spinning and spinning. He was damn near dripping in sweat, panting, dizzy. He needed another drink, a few minutes rest.

  He snagged an open seat at the bar. He looked around, grinning with delight. So many handsome men! Sexy men! And everyone seemed so comfortable and secure. They were safe in there. Away from the harsh light of the world. But what world was that? This place was its own world. Its own universe.

  But there was one guy who caught Michael’s eyes from across the bar. There was brown hair, chiseled jaw, very masculine and straight-laced looking guy. The man stood out, not just because of the strong masculine energy that he gave off but also because he didn’t seem quite comfortable. Every few seconds he took a sip from his beer. While he was sipping he continued to cast his eyes around as if the most important thing to him was not having a great time but remaining hyper vigilant and hyper-aware of his surroundings. Michael found that odd, yet intriguing.

  Michael paused for a moment. He could've sworn that he’d seen that face, somewhere around Sacramento. Where? He wasn't sure.

  Michael stared at the man intently, hoping their eyes would meet. And finally, they did.

  The man looked away quickly as if embarrassed. But moments later his nervous eyes shifted back towards Michael.

  Michael smiled. He could feel a magnetic attraction pulling them together. Michael ordered a rum and coke. When it came, he quickly took a few long sips, then he got up from the bar stool and walked to the other side, eyes fixed the entire time on the object of his desire.

  Michael sat down in the seat right next to the stud. “Are you waiting for somebody?”

  The man looked down at him and blinked several times. His tongue moved out of his mouth and swirled around his lips. Michael’s cock jumped in his pants. He could feel his asshole getting wet and loosening up.

  The man looked Michael up and down. “No, I’m not waiting for anyone.”

  “But it's your first time here, right?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” the man said uncomfortably.

  Michael reached out and clasped the stranger's hand. Their eyes locked. “Don’t worry,” Michael said. “It’s my first time, too.”

  The man looked down at Michael's hand, then slowly raised his eyes. He swallowed hard.

  “My name’s Joel,” the man said. “Officer Joel Pulaski.”

  Michael’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “Officer? You mean you’re a cop?”

  The man smiled and nodded up and down.

  “Yes, I am,” Joel answered. “But more importantly I am a top.”

  There was a moment of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes. Then they both burst out laughing. They hugged tightly, then kissed quickly on the lips.

  Michael let his eyes rove up and down Officer Joel’s body. He licked his lips with satisfaction and anticipation. He was certainly unlike any police officer that Michael had ever imagined meeting.

  Chapter 7

  “Just take it easy in there,” the chief said. “Get them talking. I'm sure they’ll love you.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Colin said. “I’ve been rehearsing. I know the role. I’ll get to the bottom of whatever is going on in there.”

  “That's the spirit, son. Remember what I told you. This is the one that will make you detective. Just trust me.”

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you for this opportunity.”

  If only Joel were there with him, Colin might have felt differently about the mission. If only he could stare into those warm, sympathetic eyes. Maybe then the mission would make sense. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so guilty. Feel like was betraying people that he should have been helping, people that he should have been enjoying this Saturday night with. And what was he doing instead? He was hunting them, participating in a zealous hate campaign. It disgusted him. He was degrading himself. He was better than this, much better than this. He was beginning to feel that it was time to walk away from the force. The work seemed to cause him innumerable moral conflicts.

  While he waited for the chief to give the final order and send him into the club, Colin kept his eyes closed, allowing his mind to drift back to the time he had spent with Joel at a straight bar a couple weeks ago. That was more fun than he had enjoyed in a while. But it was strange being with a man that he was attracted to in that sort of environment when all he wanted was the man. He tried his best to drop clues, hints as to what his real motives were. He kept the hard bulge in his pants uncovered. And he could have sworn on several occasions that he saw Joel looking at it, lustily, licking his lips, eyes filled with desire.

  He was sure that he had seen that. What he really wanted to do was rub his hands all over Joel’s body. It would have been completely inappropriate. Somebody would have probably pulled out a phone and started recording. People would have whistled and howled. Others would have cussed and launched slurs. The burly bouncers would have wobbled towards them, hands on hips, and demanded them to leave.

  He hadn’t had the guts to do what he really wanted to do. But after a few too many shots, he did reach out and squeeze Joel’s thigh in a rather inappropriate way. Their eyes had locked. In Joel’s eyes, fear mingled with desire. While Colin’s were inflamed with lust.

  Since that evening, he had dreamed of bending Joel over, feasting on his hole, swirling his tongue around the rim, then jabbing it in and out. Then he would spit on it, work two fingers, three fingers in and out. Then he would rub lube onto his cock, making it glisten, and then onto Joel’s puckered hole.

  He would enter slowly, pushing the thick shaft deeper and deeper into the fuck chute. He would hold on to Joel's shoulders, slowly picking up the pace, their bodies slamming against each other, harder and harder, making a wet, sticky slapping sound. He would lean his head back and moan, eyes closed as Joel's tight ass vice gripped his cock.

  That's what they should have been doing on this Saturday nights. They should have been together in some quiet place, some back alley, or maybe in the back of one of their cruisers…stroking, sucking, licking, fucking…

  Colin opened his eyes and blinked several times. He and six other men sat in the back of a large police van. He could have sworn that they were all looking at him. It was a very uncomfortable feeling. He could have sworn that some of them wore sarcastic expressions on their faces as if they knew his secrets, knew the irony of this undercover operation.

  He closed his eyes again. Now Joel was on his back, legs spread in the air. Colin would push into him and give him a powerful missionary fuck, hands under his ass, slamming him into the bed, the bed bouncing up and down, as his po
werful hips, thrust and pumped into him. Colin would scream out as a thick load shot from his cock, straight into his partner's hole.

  They would be sweaty and panting. Colin would bend over and kiss Joel on the mouth.

  Then he would pull his cock out of the hole and order Joel to push the creampie out of his ass. Joel would constrict his muscles and a white glob emerge. Voila! Colin would bend down and suck it and lick it, then he would command Joel the push out more of the creampie. There had to be more inside there. Within seconds another thick, white glob would come oozing out of the hole. Colin would suck it up, loving the taste of cum and shit. Then he would stand up and they would begin french kissing, snowballing kissing swapping cum and spit and shit.

  “COLINNNNNNNN!”

  Colin opened his eyes. The chief was staring right at him.

  “ARE YOU READY, SON?”

  Colin was dazed and confused, dick drunk, recovering from the hot, sweaty, cum soaked fantasy. He was surrounded by a bunch of savage men. There was no telling how they would have abused him, if they knew the wicked, erotic thoughts that passed through his mind. He had to get control of himself.

  “Yes, Chief. I’m ready.”

  And with that, Colin exited the van and walked two blocks east to Bottoms Up. He was going undercover. He had suspected that he was just being used for something that had nothing to do with the stated mission. But of course, he kept his mouth shut. Would going along with this shit end up helping him make detective? He doubted it. That was the kind of thing that they told you, whenever they wanted you to do something unpleasant.

  He handed his ID to a tall, tattooed rugged, looking bouncer. He'd seen the guy before. Probably down at the station. And the dude’s eyes seem to linger on Colin longer than would have been normal. Shit! The cover might already be blown.