Mule and the Phantom Mare

Mule and the Phantom Mare
 (Mule=writer brah, S Kane=editor brah, Steve62Reeves=artist brah)

I spent the Memorial Day weekend in Ten Sleep, Wyoming at the Rodeo.

http://shop.tensleeprodeo.com/Annual-Beauty-the-Beast-Rodeo-May-23-2015_c5.htm

Ten Sleep is a town of 260 whose population swells by thousands during the rodeo weekend. The locals are cool as fuck with it all.  There is music till the wee hours, plenty of beer and recreational drugs, "fair food" and BBQ,  and big titted cute as fuck and slutty cowgirls everywhere.  As long as you got a penis there is no reason why you shouldn't be getting laid every waking hour.  There is no way to get a hotel room, so most dudes including me just bring a sleeping bag and stay outdoors.  Much fucking goes on in those sleeping bags.  They are facilities for the rodeo including portable toilets and even outside showers, which all just adds to the fun of ruffing it for a few days.

Early Sunday morning, having smashed three anonymous cowgirls the night before, I am heading back from taking a leak when I see a young cowboy.  Like most of us at that time of the morning, he is shirtless, just in his jeans and boots, hat of course.   He got a fat free physique that you get not from lifting weight in a gym but from lifting 100 lbs. bales of hay and fence posts all day, Compact lean muscle.  But what catches my eye is the tattoo of the State of Louisiana on his 19" left bicep.   Da fuck someone from the Mule's native state way up here?

Joey's Louisiana Tattoo

So I hoof it over to him and strike up a convo.  Turns out his name is Joey, and he's from Thibodeaux, LA.  Cajun country.  Looking for a change of scenery he came out west a couple of years ago, and has been working as a ranch hand in Montana and now Wyoming.  He's working at a breeding ranch just six miles from Ten Sleep.   He’s a general ranch hand.  He's working for a ranch that makes its money selling sperm for artificial insemination from prize winning horses.   This is actually pretty interesting.  You can read about it here http://www.equine-reproduction.com/articles/collection.htm  and here http://www.equine-reproduction.com/articles/phantom.htm

Read up on equine Insemination

Thus begins the Tale of Mule and the Phantom Mare:

(click on "Read More" below to continue reading this post)

Daddy Issues Part II: Mule v. the Muscle Daddy

Daddy Issues Part II: Mule v. the Muscle Daddy 

(by Mule, edited by S.Kane & illustrated by Steve62Reeves)
-- (continued from Part One) --

"As humans we are all animals. We are driven to eat, breed, and survive. All men want to be the alpha male. To be that 700 lb. male Lion. When another male comes into his territory he doesn't reason, he doesn't waiver, but he acts. He turns the grass red with his rival's blood and watches with his females as the vultures pick his bones. That's what it is to be a man. Understand it, embrace it"- Mahatma Gandhi

The day finally arrived for the jock strap only match between Me and the former Mr. Colorado and gym owner, while his daughter, the front desk girl, watches.  We have the gym totally to ourselves, and our match is taking place on the weight room floor.  Some equipment has been moved out the way, and yoga mats have been placed to serve as make shift wrestling mats.

I wore a  tight fitting yellow T-shirt that wasn't tucked in, and some blue gym shorts and of course my jock underneath. I looked astounding as usual! .

Trisha, a.bubbly little Barbie Doll  blonde  with huge double D  boobs,   was wearing a sports bra that strained to contain her massive breasts and shorts that didn’t go any further than her cooter.  She was exhibiting some serious camel toe.

Her Daddy was wearing  gym shorts and an over-sized sweat shirt.  He looked a big as a grizzly bear even in his over-sized sweat shirt...

The day arrived for the Match between Mule and Trisha's Daddy

I figured someone had to be the first to disrobe.  And it might as well be me.  I winked at Trish who sat on a weight bench and looked up adoringly as her Hercules started to lift his shirt
I let my shirt fall onto the floor and instinctively I stretched out. I shook my arms out and flexed my pecs.   Next I dropped my shorts, leaving me standing in just my over packed jock strap.  My 6'3" 260 lbs of rock hard, bulging muscle on full display, to Trisha's obvious delight.

Trisha stood up and approached her muscle god. She slowly ran her fingers up my rippling abs and onto my thick chest. She stopped there, caressing my warm, powerful pectoral muscles.

Trisha admiring Mule stripped down to just his jock

Her fingers squeezed as she smiled into my eyes.

I leaned forward, and we started to kiss. My big arm moved up and I placed my hand on her shoulders. Shit my upper arm was huge! My forearms were just as developed and  bigger than most men's biceps!

"Shit, babe, you standing there with your big ole tits hanging like that-- you sure are causing me a boner here."  I tell her.

Daddy's mouth dropped open. Trisha tried to hide her smile.

I stepped toward Trisha, very closely. Our eyes locked. "Yeah babe, you like what you see?" I whispered.  I put my hands on her hips and pulled her  into myself. Her eyes met the cliff-like overhang of my pecs, my golden-tan nipples right in front of her. I pushed my hips against her, pressing my jock enclosed  cock against her. My huge arms flexed as my hands rested on her hips. I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

I tightened my arms on her waist and slowly, effortlessly, started to lift her, sliding her up my rippling physique until our lips met. This mammoth hunk that is the Mule tenderly kissed her as I held her nearly a foot off the ground, my back and shoulders flaring.

She nearly swooned as her lips extended to meet mine. My mouth opened in the kiss, and I began frenching her softly. I  know her Daddy must be imagining my 6'3"  260 lbs frame just rag dolling his baby girl's  lil body around in bed and her moaning in pain after she takes my legendary donkey dick.  Him knowing that every chance I get  I am ape fuking her sweet little pus, going to town on those  sweet suga walls

Daddy grabbed Mule's shoulder, and his hand was greeted with the hardest slab of trap muscle he had ever encountered. Mule didn't move. Daddy tightened his grip and tried pulling me. Nothing. Daddy's huge, muscular body tightened and he tried once more to pull me away from his little girl.

"Come on, you asshole. Get your fuckin' hands off her." Daddy growls 

"Come on, you asshole. Get your fuckin' hands off her." Daddy growled.

I didn't even turn around to acknowledge Daddy's hand on my shoulder.  I pulled back from the kiss and smiled. Trisha barely opened her eyes and seemed to moan for more. I lowered her a few inches, then raised her again. Then I did it again, allowing her petite body to rub up and down against my huge, rippling muscles. We kissed again for another minute, then I slowly lowered her back down. Daddy watched, fuming silently.

"I'm not bothering you, doing this, am I?" I asked Daddy innocently.

"You know," I said, looking at Trisha. "I'm giving your Daddy here a boner."

Daddy face turned from red anger to red embarrassment. But he couldn't hide the huge bulge in his own mesh shorts that snaked up his left hip.

After another few minutes of passionate kissing and touching, I pulled back and looked back at Daddy. "You know, dude," I said to Daddy, "I think you might enjoy watching me fuck your daughter. Might give you a few pointers, some techniques you can use." I turned away from Daddy again, leaving the heavily-breathing hunk to stand alone.

As I turn, Daddy's deep voice booms out:   "Actually, I was just wondering if maybe Trisha might want to see what some REALLY big muscles look like," Daddy smiled. He looked down at his arms, rippled them slightly, and then looked back up, deep into Trisha's eyes.

Then Daddy looked straight  at me. "Aw come on, Mule. You afraid that if I take my shirt off little Trisha here might see something she likes more than you?"

With a broad grin, Daddy started to play with the bottom of his sweat shirt. His huge arms rippled. Trisha's eyes were glued on them.

"You want me to take this thing off and let you have a look?" Daddy teased Trisha.

Trisha nodded eagerly.  She broke away from me and  took her seat on the weight bench that had been set aside for her to use to observe our match from.

Daddy quipped while looking directly at me: "There is still time for you to go and spare yourself the embarrassment, asshole" 

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere, dude. But later tonight WILL be cumming."  I whispered low. "Right inside your daughter." 

For just a moment, Daddy was just about to throw up a punch at me. Trisha had turned red, but was unable to hide a growing grin on her lips. The grin turned into an out and out smile as she looked her Daddy up and down.

Daddy smiled back and started to lift his shirt. Trisha was watching expectantly from her seat on the bench as her Daddy lifted his shirt slowly letting his physique come into full view.

 First in view were his abs:  two rows of brickwork, unsurpassed in their relief and definition.  Daddy pulled the shirt out and up, over his gargantuan pecs. He lifted it over his head and let it drop onto the floor beside mine. He immediately dropped his shorts, leaving him standing like a hirsute Colossus, wearing nothing but an over-stuffed jock strap that strained but  failed to contain his huge cock.

The Older Muscle Man is more than a match for the Younger Muscle Man
(click on "Read More" below to continue with this post)

Epilogue - Daddy Issues III : Pillow Talk

PILLOW TALK
(continued from Part Two)

Mule continued to collect  on his bet the night of the match.

(click on "Read More" below to view the complete post)

Musings from Valhalla: A big thanks to Steve!

Thanks to Steve62Reeves (a.k.a. Artist-brah)  for contributing the art work for the Mile High Bear Hug Club post.   See the link to his blog "The Art of Muscle" to check out more of his work including additional pictures from the matches on this blog.  Please remember to leave a comment if you like his work.   And of course, also thanks to S Kane for his usual fine job of editing and continuity supervision.   With another thanks to Steve, here is a preview of an up coming posting, which will be Daddy Issues II.  You can find Daddy Issues I elsewhere on this blog.

Preview of Daddy Issues II

The Mile High Bear Hug Club

 MILE HIGH BEAR HUG CLUB  
(by Mule, edited by S Kane, and artwork courtesy of Steve62Reeves)

As big as you are, and as bad-ass as you are, there is always someone out there that can best you.  As hard as it is to believe, this can even happen to Yours Truly, the one and only MULE.  It can be a profound motivating force to become a bigger and stronger bad-ass.

Now that I am a successful lawyer, I am often flying around the country on business.   As a studly alpha male I am VERY familiar with the MILE HIGH CLUB, but on this particular trip, I was initiated into something I had never heard of, and I bet you haven’t either.  This happened on one of my first out of town business trips.  So here I was in the mid-evening at the airport in Kansas City, waiting for my flight back to Denver, and then on to home sweet home in Boulder.  There is not much to do, not many hot chicks around to ogle, so I was playing some Angry Birds and finally got bored with that, and stared out into space.  Then this business dude starts talking to me, out of the blue.  Now when you are such a handsome guy and spectacular physical specimen as I am, you get used to such interruptions, the price you pay for looking like you just stepped out of Valhalla for a visit to Midgard.

So I turn my head to see who is talking to me, and I get a surprise, it is not your typical pencil neck getting a hard on by talking to an alpha hunk. This guy obviously can answer the “Do you even lift, bro?” with a clear affirmative.  He is in business attire, as am I, and like me, no dress shirt and suit can hide such prominent muscles.  He looks to be a little older than me and nearly as jacked as I am.  I can tell he does serious lifting, and of course he can obviously also tell I am a monster in the gym.  We introduce ourselves, I tell him to call me “Mule” and he tells me to call him “Grappler Dan”.
So we bro-connect over a discussion on what else … lifting, then onto chatting about our work and where we are headed and what flight we are on, etc. but mostly about lifting.  I am surprised to find out he's 40, he looks younger.  I am getting a good alpha to alpha vibe when suddenly out of the blue he asks me if I like to wrestle. I feel for a second that I am in that AIRPLANE movie and next thing he is going to ask me is if I like gladiator movies.  But I still got a pretty good vibe from the guy so even if it was a WTF question, I shrug and tell him “Sure!”

And then with a glint in his eye, he continues “…. so do you wanna wrestle?” Not something I believe has ever come up in any of my airport conversations before.  Plus he said it rather matter-of-factly, not in the throw down challenge I am used to hearing.  My head snaps back in confusion, unease and surprise and I say. “How is that exactly supposed to work, bro, without the TSA getting all over us shooting Tasers?”

He doesn’t even skip a beat, like he has done this a dozen times before. “Look ... we’re on the same flight and there is another one in four hours ... which is less crowded.  They have a hotel right here in the airport that rent rooms by the hour so you can nap, etc.  How about you and me - grapple for a couple of hours…”

A warning bell sounded in my brain.  Hotel room?  I dunno about this!  He is probably just another one of those homo business guys who are always trying to lure The Mule into some sordid encounter or another (unsuccessfully), so I am about to give my usual “Fuck Off” growl, when I pause, and swallow the bile I was about to fire off at him.  There is just something about his overall demeanor that is so genuine that I believe that all he is interested in is a good grapple session. This is no doubt why he goes by the name Grappler Dan now.  Well I do like contests of strength and combat, and really have nothing better to do, so I say: “Sure, why not!”

The next thing I know I am standing rather awkwardly in the room he has just rented, wondering what I have gotten myself into with my usual reckless abandon. But it is this spirit that has fueled this blog - the Mule just has to be the Mule.  He started moving the furniture back to clear a space, and I jumped into the task, and my misgivings faded.

He took off his wedding ring and set it on a table next to his wallet. Then we started stripping down all the way to bare ass, since with our suitcases and the rest of our clothes already on their way to Denver, we didn’t want to sit in sweaty undies on our flight.  When I was no longer concentrating on the task of stripping down, I looked up to assess my opponent.

 I looked up to assess my opponent.

Whoa ... The dude looked strong as fuck! He stood well over  6’2” and weighed 250+ . so a near match to  my 6’3” and 260. His muscles were as lean and chiseled as my own, with arms that rivaled my own.  His body did not look like they belonged to any 40 year old I had ever met. This dude had a physique that was not to be sneered at, with slabs of muscle on top of slabs of  muscles.

We lock in the grapplers embrace ready to test our mettle against one another, and immediately I am amazed by how strong he is. He is even stronger than he appears, and he appears to be a powerhouse.

The first few pins go to him, as I try to adjust to his strength and skill.  The guy clearly wrestled in high school and college and probably belongs to one of those Masters Wrestler teams that allow singlet-studs to continue in the sport they love well after college is just a memory. He has wicked skills!  Still I am the Mule and the next few went to me, until we were almost taking turns tapping out in the pins, so evenly matched we had become. I was really enjoying the level of challenge, I had to be at the top of my game at every moment, one slip up was all he needed and I was toast.  It was good by-the-book NCAA style wrestling: clean, crisp, technically rigorous, without him ever resorting to dirty maneuvers or any funny shit.  I followed his lead and wrestled sport style rather than the kind of grapple-brawls I usually wind up in.

Grappler Dan goes on the attack

Mule counters

So we push each around in this fashion for about an hour and a half, just for the sheer fun and pleasure, because as there is no referee we ain’t going on points here. So we shower, and as we are just cooling down clad only in towers he asks me: “Are you a member of the Mile High Bear Hug Club, Mule?”

I give him a quizzical ‘WTF is that’ look.

“Well it’s just like what it sounds like, it is an elite group for those who want to test their strength and endurance up at 30,000 feet.”

“Hell yeah! I want to be a member!” You know The Mule, I don’t back away from a challenge.

“It is going to be a pleasure making you a member, Mule!” he said with a devilish grin.

"Let's grab some more comfortable clothes at the airport gift shop.  Our suits are going to be too inconvenient for what we will be doing on the plane."

Fast forward about an hour.  It's after 10 p.m., the airport is getting pretty deserted.  We board the plane wearing our gift shop purchased garb, looking more like we are two bodybuilders  heading to the gym than businessmen returning home from a trip.

We settled into our seats, both in first class, Grappler Dan  a few rows ahead of me.  The plane was unusually empty even for a late night fight.  So I had plenty of room to spread out.  Then about 20 minutes after we take off and the seat belt sign goes off, I see him heading down the aisle, but not the first class bathroom, he went instead to the one all the way back behind where they make the food on the longer flights..

Grappler Dan gives me a bro nod when he saunters by; so after he passes, I wait a few minutes and then get up myself and strut down the aisle to the same bathroom. I give a stealthy two-way glance and slip in after him.  Inside as you can imagine, the bathroom is your typical tiny airplane john.  You think it is small for you normal sized folk, imagine how undersized it is for the Mule at 6’3” 260!  I can barely fit by my lonesome in one of these claustrophobic hells! Now imagine two big musclemen in there, we were wedged in there like sardines!

 heading down the aisle

Further imagine us both trying to get our clothes off , it was like playing a game of vertical twister!  Grappler Dan takes off his wedding ring again.  This just might be a memory enhanced by hindsight, but I will swear he seemed to expand like the Hulk when he took off that thing; I would swear now that he not only got broader … but taller!

Because we had wrestled in the buff earlier, with our hands all over each other in wrestling holds, I was completely comfortable being naked with him at such close quarters. And close they were - we were standing with the big shelves of my chest stacked against his own powerful plateaus of pecs. Two sets of biceps were bulging and quads flexing as we set out stances. Grappler Dan laughed and said with a cutting tone of challenge: “Before was just a warm up, Mule, let me show you the REAL power I am packing.”  He says "so you bench 455 for a one rep max , huh Mule? Well, big man, you are about to feel what 365 for 16 reps’ strength feels like... We got 30 minutes man ... you are gonna die in these big arms of mine, Mule...."

"...you are gonna die in these big arms of mine, Mule..."

I gave one of my famous Mule sneers, accompanied by a growling snort. I had been in many a bear-hug contest, and was supremely confident that it wasn’t going to be ME, that was bested.

 So it began, the two muscle gods each wrapping massive arms around his intended victim. I feel his big dick on my rock hard abs ... as we were pressed close in our ‘vice-grip off’.  We had wrestled naked all afternoon and he had only got a semi from the charge of adrenaline and testosterone, but now wedged together in vice-like grips, he seemed super-charged with combat hormones and had erected a massive fully hard boner ... that seemed my cue to press my advantage.

Grappler Dan captured in the deadly bone crushing vice grip of
 the Mule!

Both bodybuilders were locked together, each straining, our
 naked muscles quivering and straining

Mule  winning the contest!

Grappler Dan uncomfortably found himself captured in the deadly bone crushing vice grip of the blond muscleman, and although the older man was inflicting his share of pain on your Mule, this handsome younger man still felt victory was assured. But when the older man spoke, it was not to concede … "Remember Mule, no screaming ... no matter how much I hurt you ... we don't want the Sky Marshall in here." he managed to hiss in my ear, between grunts.

“WTF!”- I thought, “Hurt me Old man? I am winning this contest!”

We were standing on our toes, face to face, pecs and abs boring into each other. 'Haaaaahhhhh...you are strong, Mule, but I am stronger! You will be mine!' boasted Grappler Dan. 

'Huuuhhhhh..I'm kicking your ass, dude!' came my response. 

Dan's reply was immediate -  he locked  his clasped hands into the small of my back, causing me to gasp in pain.  I flexed my intercostals and lats to resist the squeeze. Now both bodybuilders were locked together, each straining, our naked muscle glutes quivering and straining.  

We were standing on our toes,
 face to face, pecs and abs boring into each other

Then Dan adjusted the lock his hands had around the narrowest part of my wide back. He puts his fist right over the juncture of my L5-S1 vertebrae, my jaw almost drops as his chest expands with a seemingly concerted effort of every sinew in his body in league against the Mule.  Bammmmm!!!! He squeezed hard, and it was like the crush of a Burmese python as he dug his fist into my L5-S1 locus.  A huge gush of air rushed from my mouth along with a spray of saliva as I lost a lungful of air in an ape like grunt. As he dug deeper into my spine, I felt excruciating pain shooting down my sciatic nerve like electric shocks administered by a fiendish scientist in some ghastly experiment.  Despite my effort not to, a deep moan was forced out me.

'Haaaaahhhhh...you are strong, Mule, but I am stronger! You will be mine!'

Grappler Dan reverses the bear hug!

Grappler Dan takes charge....

The punishment being inflicted by Grappler
 Dan was relentless

'Grruuuuuh....ggggrrrraaaahhhh.....hhhhrrrrgggghh!!' The animal-like grunts and gasps began escaping from my mouth, loudly.

Suddenly Dan locked his lips on mine, forcing his tongue past my lips wrestling my tongue with his own.  The forced kiss muffled my grunts and groans of pain as the mutual bearhug continued. Bulging pec-nipple against bulging pec-nipple, rippling muscle gut  against rippling muscle gut, massive thigh against massive thigh, and horse-sized cock against horse-sized cock, each fought to overpower the other; our musclebuns quivered and jerked as our anaconda cocks wrestled. Our tight gripped hands pressed into each other's straining backs; our bulging pecs flexed into each other. Our heads separated as I fought for breath, the strain and exertion showing in my eyes and flushed faces,  'GRAAAAHHHH!! OOUFF!! OUFF!! OUFFF!!' Deep masculine groans of pain that I could not hold in echoed in the tiny space. Dan once again locked out lips and tongues together to silence me. Our heaving, muscular bodies shone and gleamed with sweat, moulding into each other as slowly but surely Dan crushed me into defeat!

This was no longer a challenge of bear-hugs, but a one-sided vise, with your Hero hanging on for dear life! My green eyes felt like they were being squeezed out of their sockets like toothpaste out a tube. At this point all I was seeing were white spots!


I felt the pain radiate up and down my body, spiraling down into my glutes, through the back of my legs, into my calves and then feet, so that my lower extremities rioted with pain for a moment, before both of my big legs go numb.


Meanwhile in the other direction, it was like the amusement park high striker machine where a sledgehammer is applied to a trigger, and a weight shoots up and rings a bell. Well, the Mule had his bell rung for sure!


Grappler Dan continued to give the Mule a taste of that vaunted power he had been boasting about. It was not a bluff, it was real, and it was being skillfully and ruthlessly applied to crush your blond hero’s mammoth muscle-bound body to smithereens … the Mule’s carcass hammered against the muscular anvil of Dan’s own rock hard physique. The Mule felt his muscles surrendering one after another, in a chain reaction of destructive submission. Mule bit into his own tongue as he struggled against the pain!

...your Hero, hanging on for dear life! 

The punishment being inflicted by Grappler Dan was relentless.  Dan flexed his cannonball biceps; and they sunk into my sides compressing my ribs ... my arms dropped and hung uselessly at my side ..."Ffff...uck man...”  was all I managed to groan. Pressing our muscle-bound bodies together, Grappler Dan-- grunting with glee … slowly, ever so slowly, he built up the pressure, deliberately prolonging his savage torture.

"Yeah, I know ... you feel my power waxing, Mule ... while yours wanes" he grunts back.   Grappler Dan continuously poured on more pressure.  My mighty back and ribs were being systematically softened up for the kill.  My breathing was being constricted, air prevented from entering into my mountainous chest.  A helpless Mule was feeling his stamina being drained from his great body as his head rolled about his thick bull neck.

And indeed his crush was only gaining in strength and intensity, while my whole body grew weaker.  Grappler Dan had, by now, became totally aroused, as he took complete control of the Mule, showing me how it felt to be bear hugged without mercy.

He lifted me up and dropped my big muscled butt into the metal sink ... My neck felt like rubber-forcing me to rest my chin on his shoulder while he continued compressing me like a trash compactor.  I can take a great deal of pain, I am no slacker in that department, but this had gotten so bad, I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to stay conscious.

My chin slipped off his shoulder as my neck hung over his back like a slinky; my jaw fell slack, my mouth lay open … drool dribbling out of its corners and down his back. I started to go in and out of consciousness ... if felt like my ribs were going to splinter into shards any second ... I was totally helpless and … under HIS control ..."You are no match for me, Mule,” gloated the mighty muscleman. “I can crush the life out of you!” The squeezing force of Grappler Dan was unbelievably powerful. I felt like I was dying in his incredibly strong arms … arms that were steadily, inexorably driving me toward submission and ignominious defeat.

Mule fans know that a victorious bear hug is the greatest demonstration of a man’s supremacy. The epitome of one man dominating another, and sad to say, by this point, the Mule was as dominated as a man can be.

Then I began to feel the emotions of all those men that I had bested.  The sheer uncontested power he now held over me, and corresponding breaking of my body, brought a corresponding crushing of my pride. Overmatched by Grappler Dan, I began to feel submissive … drawn to his victorious power like a moth to the flame.  I actually began to fall for my torturer … the more he hurt me the hornier I got ... I was man-crushing seriously on this powerful alpha male that was dominating me.  It was the bromantic thirst all males feel when confronted by the superior power of another man.  It is a mixture of hero-worship, envy-fueled desire and a hunger to share that power, even if only in yielding to it. Plus battle is a sexually stimulating situation, as all contests of power are. Other alphas might not tell you this, but such is the reality. The Mule is so comfortable in his own skin that he doesn’t care if some of you lesser men might misconstrue this and hate on the Mule.

Grappler Dan understood all this, as my cock engorged, its long thick shaft pressing against my conqueror.  He smiled knowingly.  He was inside my head.  He had won.  He knew it and I knew it.  He owned me.  He released his hold, taking a moment to admire his brutal work as I slumped helplessly. He stepped a baby step back, as that was all he could manage in the cramped space.   I leaned backwards, sitting in the sink with my immensely broad back against the mirror, struggling to catch my breath, as I wrapped my massive arms around my huge battered and bruised chest, while gasping for air.

 "Too bad I can’t fuck you, Mule, but I’m a married man..." he said smiling as he put his wedding ring back on. When he said we could not fuck, I actually felt an aching pang of disappointment.  I had fallen hard.

He struck a naked "superman pose" - hands on hips - my dilated eyes hungrily take it all in.   Grappler Dan's physique was just plain breathtaking, his proportions just about perfect. Broad-shouldered but narrow waist, his powerful figure was iron-muscled as the best of the ancient Roman gladiators must have been muscled … it told at a glance … enormous strength!  My eyes skimmed the graceful lines of the strongly sinewy legs that had the definition of fine marble sculpture. I scanned the laddered abdominals that flowed seamlessly to his huge stiff, erect and swollen dick … my eyes slid back up to the massive pecs and big arms that were more than a match for my own, then my gazed fixed on the handsome head upon those broad shoulders. The strong jaw was slightly stubbled.

  “It is no dishonor to be bested by me!”

 "Take a long, long look Mule ... 
so you can jack off to this later..."

Mule: Defeated but initiated 

 "Take a long, long look at my body, Mule ... so you can jack off when you think about me  later ... you know you won’t be able to stop yourself from rubbing one out – during the rest of the flight and beyond … because you’ll be thinking of all of this“ … he flexed and  preened muscularly. “I will even email you some nude pics for your meat beating sessions ...it may be a few weeks before you can jerk one out without thinking of me...but don't worry...eventually you will be attracted to girls again..."

I looked at him with the same longing expression that I had seen directed to me so many times. My brain was awash with so many endorphins that for a moment I couldn’t feel the throbbing pain of my body,  my body responded appropriately so that both our cocks were once again like flagpoles.

“You should feel proud Mule”, you withstood more than any man I have previously initiated into the Mile High Bear-hug Club.  “It is no dishonor to be bested by me!”

With that we did some maneuvering allowing him to take a piss, he drains his huge hose like a race horse, still radiating gloriously from his triumph, and my own hose throbbed.  A moment later, it was slightly less erect, enough for me to piss with difficulty, but he waves me off from the shitter.  “Toilets are for victors, use the sink Mule!”.  He gloats while shaking off his huge dong,  as  I comply and my own sizable  hose unleashes  like a hydrant into the sink.

There is another vertical game of twister as we struggle to get our clothes back on, and pressed up against Grappler Dan, I am back completely erect during the dressing process, entangled as I am with my new idol. He beamed, knowing how I burned for him, like the long line of initiates before me. “Thanks for making it an interesting flight, Mule” he said.  He was pressing his now clothed loins against the fabric of my crotch and an explosion of fireworks went up in my head as the endorphins flowed again firing every synapse in my brain.

With me still in a stupefied haze, he goes out from the lavatory first ... I wait a couple of minutes as I try to clear the Mule brain, then I go.  The walk back was not the bold, triumphant stride that had brought me to the encounter, but a wobbly staggering, hands-bracing-the-seats struggle that seemed to take an excessively long time.  No doubt I seemed airsick to the handful of awake passengers, save one. Given I looked as pale as a ghost, that was a reasonable assumption.

I finally get back to my seat and settle in, still fixated on the thought of Grappler Dan, intoxicated by his power and dominance.  I am startled out of my reverie by an attractive flight attendant, who is bringing me a blanket.

I am still a bit ‘punch drunk’ from the bear hug, so I have trouble processing this. Flight attendant sees my confusion and she explains: “That gentleman said you needed it“ … I look up the aisle and see Grappler Dan flash a smug grin.

I just tell her, “Yeah I guess I do!”

Wrapped in the blanket, I reach a big paw into my pants, unseen by neighboring eyes and begin to stroke my great fuckpole, as I play the excruciating and yet exhilarating ‘bear hug/lavatory’ encounter over and over again in my head like a video loop.

Later when I was leaving the plane Grappler Dan handed me the business card of a good chiropractor in Denver.  On the back was scrawled: Welcome to the Club! Membership has its privileges, give him my name for a 15% discount on services.

Guilty as Charged: Mule v. Cop

Guilty as Charged: Mule v. Cop  

(by Mule, edited by S Kane)

Summer break of my Junior year of college: Your college football jock is driving all night from Durham NC to Louisiana, and then on to Texas.  About 2 a.m.… somewhere in mountains of Tennessee I see red and blue lights in my mirror and look down at the speedometer, which is showing something in excess of 80 mph.   "Aw fuck" goes thru my mind.   I realize there is a road rest stop up ahead and I pull in there rather than the shoulder.  I barely notice the signs that say "no restrooms" but do notice there are no other cars as I pull on to the gravel and park my jeep, the police car right behind me.  It's local police, Johnson City, not the state police.  I am revving up the legendary Mule charm, hoping I can talk Barney Fife out of giving me a ticket as I grab my license and registration and hop out my jeep to the ground.

I was an imposing sight in the moonlight.  My 260 lbs. of football jock muscle was evenly dispersed over my 6'3" frame.   Short blonde hair in a jock buzz cut made my all-over tan look darker and my thick, muscular neck made my ginormous traps look even huger.  I'm jacked, handsome, young, overflowed with confidence and just oozing alphaness, I'm swole as phuck, and I got a fat dong too. Melon size shoulders protruded from my tight wife beater tee shirt. I wore my shirt so tight it was stretched to its limits by my thick muscled 53" chest, showing off those two giant slabs to perfection.   My wife beater was tucked into my tight, well-worn blue jeans, the pants tapered down my 33” waist, down my muscled ass past my 28" thighs and 18” calves to a pair of brown, size 14 cowboy boots.

The officer gets out his police car and walks slowly towards me. As he does his John-Wayne strut, I can see he's no Barney Fife. As you know, Mule is 6'3 260lbs of striated, gluteus maximizing, defibrillating, masturbatizingly hot, swole shreddedness- all wrapped up in alphaness and cold pressed in awesome; but Officer Smith is an imposing sight in his own right!  In the full moonlight, that is the only illumination at this point in the night, he would make even the most hardened criminal blanch. The military buzz hair cut is about the only hair on this beast of an officer, and sets off his square chin, broad square shoulders, and massive chest.  The rest of Officer Smith is as firm and tight, even his bubble butt. With 20-inch guns showing in his dark blue shirt Officer Smith must be the envy of the Johnson City police force, and every meathead at the Johnson City gym. Unlike most Five-O’s he has clearly has never seen the inside of a donut shop.

This Po-Po colossus stands 6'4" tall and weighs in at solid 250+ lbs. Not more than 25 or 26 years old.   When he swaggers close enough. I can make out on his expansive, thrust out chest- his shiny shield on the left massive pec, and his name tag, on the equally impressive right:  "Officer Smith".   This muscle-head in blue oozed the kind of conceit that only men of incredible muscularity and unbelievable good looks can project. I am sure not too many people matched up to him in size and stature, and he was no doubt the heartthrob of Washington County!  Not a rival to be found… until now… at least, as we squared off, gazes fixed on each other narrowed eyes to narrowed eyes in the alpha glare-off.

...we squared off, gazes fixed on each other 
eyes to  eyes in an alpha glare-off.

I let my expression soften first: "Sorry Officer, I sort of wasn't paying attention...." I start saying, sounding like a little beta bitch.  But before I could get an apology out Officer Smith barks: "Put your hands on the hood of the Police car, and spread your legs wide....procedure requires you be frisked and searched..."  His commanding tone made him sound precisely like the Alpha Male, he appears to be.  "Aw fuck" I think again, "he's gonna be an asshole about this..." 

I comply with the orders he just gave, and positioned myself with my hands on the police car and my legs spread wide apart.

At this point my expectations lower, and I just hope I can talk him out of bringing me to jail for booking; and instead just giving me a ticket: letting me get on my way -as there is still a long drive ahead of me.  Officer Smith starts to follow his frisk procedure.

Starting at my bare forearms the cop runs his gloved hands down my thick arms, grasps my big biceps and squeezes, continues down to my arm pits and then around to and under my snug wife beater. A solid check of my big firm pecs and a squeeze on the nips insures him that there is no foreign object under my shirt. Following the contour of my yard-wide outstretched lats, the cop frisks my jeans waistband, lower back and rippling rock hard six-pack. Moving lower, he pats down my thick quads and steel cable hamstrings, down my right leg over my big calf that barely fits into my boots, then up the left leg. There can be no doubt he is admiring my Herculean physique as he feels me up, appreciating what he feels as only another bodybuilder can.  Almost satisfied he needs to finish the pat down, placing his huge paws on each of my ass cheeks then slowly runs his left thumb and forefinger up and down the crack between those two massive glutes. Satisfied so far the cops hand reaches up between my legs and grips my prize bull sized balls in my fraying jeans, a slight squeeze and then he moves both hands to the front where finally his right hand grips my long thick cock that is nestled to the right.

“What do you use this little toy for?” Officer Smith chides as he massages my 6+" flaccid cock to confirm it is not dangerous.

“It’s bigger then that thing you call a dick” I mouth off smartly without even thinking, and am quickly rewarded with a fist to the right kidney from the less than amused cop. I let out a loud grunt when the blow lands. “Remember you said that.... cause Your gonna cry like a bitch when I give it to you up the ass'''” again Officer Smith rewards my smart mouth with four shots, two to each kidney.  On each punch Officer Smith is rewarded with a loud grunt from yours truly. Grabbing the back waistband of my jeans, Officer Smith pulls me out from his police car and knees me hard from behind squarely in the nuts.  Fuck those punches hurt, and that big knee felt like it cracked my jumbo eggs.  Shit, talk about your fucking police brutality.

The big cop grabs my blonde head and presses his swelling cock up against my muscled butt then whispers into my ear, “I bet I'm gonna find steroids when I search your Jeep, big guy,  How is an arrest for steroid procession gonna go over with that football team?  You think your gonna keep that scholarship with that arrest on your record, stud?"   One look at Officer Smith had already told me he knew all about steroids.  And I was sure he wasn’t above planting evidence to make a bust if he had to.

“So here’s the dealeo, football star..." the muscled Cop continues... "You and I are gonna fight here and now, stud.  If I kick your ass you’re gonna suck on my "night stick" after I take that ass of yours.  You win, and I don't search your vehicle, and let you off with a speeding warning. Yeah, that's right,  if you win, this mass of muscles is also yours for the taking....only see I ALWAYS win."

So now I knew what I faced, this was a classic bully-a friggin’ cowardly, beta-personality hiding in an alpha body. He probably never been whipped, so never had to face this hard truth.  I don’t see any option but to take the deal offered. However knowing what THE COP REALLY was gave the Mule an unexpected edge! With most bullies, the first time they take a strong pop in the jaw or big slam they turn into quite the little pussy.

The Cop laughs when I nod my acceptance of the terms.  "Just so you know," he says with a grin, "I was in the Marines before I joined the police force . . . Once a Marine, always a Marine.  I am extensively trained in unarmed combat, and I can kill you just with my bare hands. I will shit fury all over you, and you will drown in it.  Are you getting insecure, football star?  Are ya, you cock suckin’ pussy. ."   

"You fuckin’ marine cunt, you're fuckin’ dead meat, Cop..." -I bellowed through clenched teeth, still holding my battered nuts.

"Fuckin’ football jock cock sucker," the Cop snarled back, “I am gonna fuck your ass.”

I turn and face the Cop eye to eye as I am sucking some air back into my body while my nuts are screaming! Preparing for battle, the cop takes off his gun belt, his shoulder walkie-talkie, and his dark  police shirt, leaving him standing there in his black police issued, size 15 steel toed, boots, tight police slacks hugging his perfectly sculpted ass and massive package,  and shirtless.  "Holy fuck!" I think as the shirt comes off. "This guy is STACKED!"  The Cop is as jacked and swole as I am and almost as good-looking.  The Cop had huge, dark nipples planted on two slabs of pec beef. His traps and shoulders bordered on inhuman; broad and thick, the muscle heads bulged everywhere! He was a fucking musclegod with  rippling abs, a thick chest and powerful pectoral muscles.  Shit his upper arm was huge and his forearms were bigger than most men's biceps!

"Holy fuck!" I think as the shirt comes off. 
"This cop is STACKED!"

Stripped to the waist he reveals rippling abs, a thick chest
 and powerful pectoral muscles!
The Cop is as jacked and swole as I am!

As his final step in his battle preparation, Officer Smith slips on his police issued black SAP gloves.

SAP gloves are a self-defense weapon which helps to improve your punching power, used extensively by law enforcement and military personnel. Almost similar to the effectiveness of brass knuckles, these weighted knuckle gloves reinforce your fist with steel shot inside the knuckle area.  They are an ordinary looking glove that you can wear casually in plain sight without causing suspicion, but secretly have eight ounces of steel shot sewn into the top of the hand and knuckle. I know from personal experience that SAP gloves pack a mighty punch.  Having those are gonna give the Cop a huge advantage, if this turns into a fist fight, as a man Officer Smith's size armed with SAP gloves could knock out a big heavyweight -even my size- with one punch, if he lands it right.

I pull off my wife beater and throw it into my jeep.  I square up, only to have the Cop say "Sorry big boy, lose the jeans and boots.."  I strip down to my boxers, and the cop strips down to his tight whites.  But the Cop still has his boots still on, and also the SAP gloves, which  was giving him some extra weapons. Definitely a beta move.  Officer Smith was making sure this was no level playing field, he had the deck stacked in his favor.  Loaded gloves, steel toed boots, and his big balls safely secured in his standard issue police jock strap. Maybe he could have taken me in a fair fight, but he elects to cheat from the get go instead.  So it was the well-equipped Cop up against the fully stripped of weapons,  Mule.

You and I are gonna fight here and now, stud.
And after I kick your  fuckin’ football jock ass -- I am gonna fuck your ass!

"Think you can handle this, you Mother Fuckin’ Football Jock Pussy?"

As soon as I am naked, Officer Smith shot a double biceps pose and smiled.

"Think you can handle this, you Mother Fuckin’ Football Jock Pussy?"

"No problem, this is Gonna Fuckin Break You, Cop Cunt," I replied with a double biceps shot of my own, with massive arms bulging like cannon balls ready to go off, as we have an impromptu hot stud flex off.  Both of us bounced our pecs to intimidate the other and stretched. Neither one of us took his eyes off the other, as we flashed our muscled bodies at each other.


We rushed at each other, and a seriously vicious match began. We gripped upper bodies with loud roars.  Our Legs were spread wide as the two massive bodies collided  Our arms bulged as we grappled rough and hard with each other  We both jockeyed for control, with neither letting up on the grip on the other.

Suddenly, the Cop slapped me in a muscle-crushing full nelson.  I let out a wail,

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!" 

as I felt the power of the cop. I thought my head would be ripped off as Officer Smith barreled down on his naked adversary.  As I struggled to muscle out, my 9" now fully erect cut hunk of man meat was swinging violently as my body was jerked from side to side. Against most guys, I would be able to flex out of this without batting an eye, but this stud was rock hard muscle.

"Yeah, you fuckin’ jock boy. Can't take this cop muscle. Too much for ya, ain't it?  YOUR FUCKIN’ ASS IS MINE-YOU COCK SUCKIN’ CUNT." With that I once again pressed up with my feet and with a massive surge of muscle, I slowly pulled my arms down. The veins in my neck bulged as my lats flared and the Cop's grip loosened. With one final snap, I broke free to spin around and once again it was two bulls meeting head on.  We were evenly matched and it showed.

Groans erupted from deep within each of us as we battled out for male supremacy. Officer Smith was matching me muscle for muscle, move for move. I stretched my arms out and the Cop locked hands with me.  We both pumped out 53" chests and I had only the slightest of disadvantages as my 19.5" guns bulged to meet Officer Smith's 20" cannon balls. Our chests slammed hard as we leaned into each other, muscles bulging, trying to muscle the other to his knees.  Sweat was pouring off both of us as neither was letting up on the other. "

Officer Smith watched my hot bare muscled ass flex, as my 28" quads struggled hard against the Cop's even more awesome 29"; both of us were grunting as each tested the rock hard muscle of the stud locked in his arms.   The Cop's boots dug into the ground for leverage, as did my bare feet.

"Yeah muscle boy, feels good don't it?" the Cop grunted as he began to force me back.

I could only moan.  The Cop was more powerful than I had thought. My legs were spread wide enough for me to catch an occasional whiff of my own butthole as I flexed hard, my fully naked body working to control the big bruiser.

Both of us finally broke free of the other and stood, staring and panting.

Officer Smith growled out, "You're one strong fucker, man."

"Thought you were gonna get a win, huh, fucker?" I panted.

"Shit, Boy, we just started." Officer Smith grunts.

I throw a right kick-it finding its mark in the officer’s right knee. The cop backs away and then I swing around and land a hard right across his jaw, sending his face wobbling and sweat spraying off it like from a shaking wet dog. Grabbing the scruff of the Cop's thick neck and the back of his pants, I run him-chest first- into a solid pine tree.  Then holding the dazed big cop in place, I lands several solid knees to the small of the big man's back. The officer’s mammoth back spreads out from his narrow waist and obscures the sight of the tree, which gives me the idea to clutch those lats, and ram the cop’s big chest up against the tree again, and again.

I turn the cop and drive his back up against the trunk of the pine tree.  With the Cop pinned between my big shoulder and the trunk of the rough pine tree bark, I scrape the Cop's big back up and down the tree three or four times, scraping the shit outta the skin on his back and making the blood flow till both his raw, wide back and the pine tree are covered in red.

The big Cop howls in pain but then he hits me with a “double ax handle” -- both of his anvil sized fists to my mile wide shoulders, which drops me to both knees....as I do....the cop Clutches up under my jaw, he pulls my head up, targets my big square jaw, then rearing back with his right SAP gloved fist he roundhouses me into tomorrow.

This body is gonna Fuckin Break You, Cop!
I flexed a double biceps pose
trying to intimate the muscle stud Cop
with my massive bulging arms and bouncing pecs!

Check these  guns out!
What do you think of your chances now, Barney!

Officer Smith stripped down to his tighty-whites ready to kick my muscle-jock ass!

"Yeah, you fuckin’ college jock pussy-boy.
You can't handle my cop muscle.
 I'm too much man for ya, kid!

Our muscles were bulging as we tried to muscle each other!
Yeah muscle boy, feel my power?

The Cop was more powerful than I had thought.
He was forcing me back and pushing me around!
Cop muscle was proving a match
 for  college jock muscle!

We battled for male supremacy.
 Officer Smith was a fucking stud!
I was a  hot-shot college football player jock but
this Cop was matching me muscle for muscle

We broke free of each other and stood panting like two bulls!
You're one fucking strong Cop, Smokie!
Shit, Boy, I am just getting started working you over!

I see black and next thing I know I am face down in the grass, and the Cop is using the sole of his boot to checks for signs of life by rubbing it over my now naked muscled ass.  I struggle to understand what as happened as a booming voice announces "That's right boy, you got knocked the fuck out cold.  We fought and you lost..."   I have been stripped of my boxers.  The beast of a Cop with the aid of that SAP glove enhanced punch had knocked me the fuck out.  It was like taking a punch from Tyson in his prime.   I barely know where I am, as I get up to all fours, shaking my head of the cobwebs..... Only to be driven back down to the ground by a huge, size 15, cop boot to the back of my head.  Then the Cop sits his 1/8th of a ton of muscle on the small of my back and with his sweat and blood pouring on me, he camel clutches the fuck out of my back while fish hooking my mouth so I can't speak, until I am slapping his big legs to tap out and moaning in pain.  He has me beat, the big Cop has defeated me, and I am trying to “give”...but instead of taking my submission, he slaps the back of my head and says “"Don't give up yet, football jock, I'm having too much fun...."  I was trying to surrender and tap out, but the Cop has decided to play with the now helpless Mule some more, and instead grabs me by the head, stands me up, and runs me across the hood of his cruiser.   Then the cop comes and finds me on the opposite side of the car, and plants a steel toed boot deep into my rib cage while I am still on all fours.  I let out a howl of pain as he attempts to kick in my rib cage.  That's going to leave some nasty bruises....


“Fuck he almost broke my ribs with that kick.”-I thought groaning in agony.  Laughing at my moans of pain, the cop pulls me up and drags me barely conscious, and on rubber legs and angled ankles, to the hood of the cruiser.  Twisting me around by the waist, and pinning me to the hood, the Cop holds my right elbow above my head and punches the exposed pec and nipple before him.  With the SAP gloves his fists are like bone crushing sledgehammers.  My nipple bleeds from the enhanced punch.  He then twists me around again this time pinning me ass-up, on the hood. The cop pulls my head back and whispers in my ear while stroking my 9-inch iron hard cock with the leather SAP glove, “You lost, son. Now that I've kicked your ass, I get to fuck your ass. Time for me to collect my prize. Spread those muscle cheeks, baby.” 

With one hand holding me in place the Cop's other hand bitch slaps my bare ass to get the blood flowing into my bubble butt, spreads my muscled cheeks apart.  He shoves a finger in my hole to open me up , then he pulls aside his jock strap to release his swelling fat 8" cock .  I'm about to be topped.

While he’s busy trying to position his dick on my asshole, I throw a big left elbow behind me which connects with the cops left temple.  He's stunned, I turn to face him, and unload a huge forearm to his face.  I scoop him up, and body slam him on the hood of his police car.  With one hand on the Cops dick and the other under his chin, I hold him across the hood, while I head butt him over and over in the abs.  Pulling the Cop forward, so his boots were on the ground but he was still leaning on the hood, I pull his undies  down  using a handful of back waist band to reveal his well-tanned muscle butt.  " “What was the deal, stud?” I snarled. “The winner gets to shove his dick in the loser’s ass? Like this you mean? So now that I kicked your ass I get to fuck your ass.  You made the rules.  Time for me to collect my prize, spread those muscle cheeks..." I announce, quoting the Cop's earlier words.  While I hold  the big cop by his still bloody lats, the cop grips the windshield end of his patrol car’s hood, and braces himself for the solid fuck that is coming. He is not disappointed; ‘cuz I bitch slaps his cop ass, spread the cheeks apart and without as much as a lick of spit, ram my fat nine inch cock up his cop’s hole.

"Thought you were going to top me, you fucking County Mountie?   Look who is the bitch now..." I growl.

Cop is Defeated and fucked 

For the first time in his life, someone else was inside him, and he LIKED the reversal of roles.  As my giant cock moved back and forth inside the Cop, he went wild with this new found sensation.  Each movement of my cock drove the Cop insane with lust and closer and closer to climax.

  Forcibly tearing the asshole up and pushing my stallion cock up the cops tight muscled ass,  I rail him good and then I start banging the cop’s forehead against the hood... while I’m a yelling  “Squeal pig squeal!” Finally I drive my pussy driller in one more hard time and releases my load at the same time as the Cop shoots a huge load of cum all over the hood of his cruiser.

Before exiting the cops hot ass, I whisper in his ear “you’re not getting off that easy, man,  You tried to take my ass, well there is going to be some payment expected for that...”  I pull him off the hood and he slumps to all fours on the ground, shitting my cum out his ass, as he shakes and wimpers  like a terrified puppy dog. His first time being fucked in the ass has turned this Alpha Male into a pussy in more ways than one. I see the Die hard look in his eye had been replaced with the Barney Fife nervous twitch, I had originally expected.

As he stays on all fours there, like Fido, I walk over and get my size 14 cowboy boots that I had been ordered to strip off earlier.  I slip them back on.  I don’t bother with my jeans.  I am naked except for my boots.

Putting one boot on the back of the Cop's neck, I push him face down to the ground.  I rammed my other pointed steeled toed cowboy boot into his beat red face. “Eat this, pussy boy!” I laughed as I forced the leather deeper and deeper into his mouth and throat, as he gagged.   "Still planning on giving me that warning, Officer Smith?!? Or is that Officer Pussy now?"

Virtually exhausted and finally submissive, he began to lick my size 14ee boot. At first tentatively, and then enthusiastically.

“Suck on it!” I bellowed.

“Suck on it!” I bellowed.

I removed my boot from his neck and flipped his muscular frame over and shoved my other boot beneath his face and ordered him to lick it clean, and like the little bitch he had become, he readily complied.    I felt like the king of the world.    As I looked about the scene in, triumph, the muscle cop was still energetically licking my boots in the bright moon light. "Yeah... good doggy" I say soothingly, as I reached down to pet his head.

Finally I had enuff fun and needed to resume my trip.   I put on my jeans and throw the big cop naked and handcuffed in the back of his cruiser.  I take off his SAP gloves, and try them on for size.  They are a perfect fit (even on my ham-sized fists) so I decide to keep them.  Officer Smith's face is enraptured as he looks up at me as I slip the gloves in my back pocket. "Shit, dude. You want my dick so bad."  I think to myself as I look down at the completely smitten Cop, but “Have a nice day” are my only spoken words  to the cop, then I drive away in my Jeep.  Officer Smith didn’t write me up a ticket... in fact I got off without even a warning....it was the cop who had entered a plea of TOTAL PUSSY.