Jack gently parted the hairs around his partner’s anus. The smeared headlights of the cars passing them on the highway lit up the tender folds of Bill’s balloon knot. Jack felt sorry for those drivers. They could never know, never understand what he felt for Bill or what they had been through to get them to this place. Those passing motorists could not understand the unbearable sexual tension that builds when you taser a smartmouth in the crotch or rattle the teeth of an insolent teen or shoot some uppity professor for looking you in the eye. They could never understand the furtive glances that passed between them as they got their story straight or the soft brush of Bill’s knuckles against his hand as they faked incident reports together.
Jack grunted from his revelry as Bill twisted the saliva-lubed nightstick into his anus. He tensed against it, forcing Bill to twist harder, push harder. Jack began to lap eagerly at Bill’s man-cunt. As he briefly wormed his tongue inward he tasted ashes and some exotic spice he could not place. Jack slid his tongue downward, lightly flicking along the seam of Bill’s scrotum. Bill engulfed him with his mouth; Jack’s penis throbbed, seemingly begging to ejaculate in the back of Bill’s hot throat. Jack’s index finger slipped into Bill’s rectum. Probing as far as he could, he could feel a gnarled nugget of feces. Jack pressed against it urgently as Bill suckled him harder and harder.
They rocked in and out of each other, in time to the frantic beeping of the radar gun.