They didn’t call it “vice duty,” of course, since he wasn’t a capital-V Vice Cop, just an average beat cop. But getting assigned to “Manrammer
Park” was the same thing. West Manner was a mostly quiet city at night, and park duty was pretty sweet – quiet, peaceful, and you knew you were going home in one piece at the end of the night.

As long as you didn’t mind prying guys off each other in the bushes, that is.

Mike sighed and handed out general “Fuck you’s” to the other guys as they headed out. Manner Park was a short drive from the station and the night was warm, still in the low 80s at midnight. He parked in the small lot where the park’s service vehicles were stored for the night, locked the gate behind him, and headed out on patrol.

He tipped his cap and smiled at the late-night regulars around the War Memorial fountain, mostly senior citizen insomniacs – who knew they were safe here in the park, especially when Mike was around. He was supposed to roust the vagrants sleeping on the benches but he never did.

He patrolled as much of the park as he could before facing up to the task at hand. During the day, the hedge maze was an innocent pleasure, and the only thing day duty cops did in there was find lost tourists and guide them out. Mike had done that a hundred times himself, and having grown up here knew the maze like the back of his hand. Including the dead ends where men led other men at night for their…assignations.

Some cops had it out for the gays. They liked to sneak up on them quietly and then shout “POLICE!” Pete Mitchell was one of them, one of the bastards who clogged up the justice system by actually arresting these guys and hauling them in.

Mike took the opposite tack. He made as much noise as possible as he went through the maze, turning up the volume on his radio, waving his flashlight around on high power, and brushing up against the hedges to rustle and rattle. Not just because he didn’t feel the need to bust anyone, but because…

Well, he just didn’t want to see what was going on around the corners. He didn’t like to think about it and he didn’t like going to bed in the morning with those pictures in his mind.

He almost always got the results he wanted – guys flushed and half-dressed rushing past him, either avoiding eye contact or giving him the hasty hello most people gave cops, trying to look innocent. Especially, go figure, when they were. Some people must think cops could read their minds, Mike thought.

But tonight was different. He came around a corner into one of the dead ends, making noise and waving the light. His beam froze on what he saw there.

A slim young man was on his knees on the bench, his pants around his ankles, his ass up in the air, holding on to the back of the bench for dear life, while another man, bigger and stronger, shirt half-pulled up, pumped his ass hard and fast, grunting, the sweat pouring off him.

“Yeah, faster, c’mon…” the guy on the bench whispered. The guy fucking him couldn’t see the flashlight beam on him – he had his eyes closed tight, and he started fucking even faster, grabbing the other guy’s naked shoulders to hold him in place.

Mike watched his dick piston in and out of that smooth tight butt, almost all the way out before ramming back in again, the bottom’s ass flesh quivering with the impact. The bottom turned and looked at him and smiled.

He was a pretty good looking guy, if you liked that sort of thing, Mike had to admit. Like one of those guys who stood outside the Abercrombie store at the mall, who always chatted him up, especially when he was in uniform. Blond and lean, but not skinny – he looked like a swimmer, with most of his muscle in his shoulders. Shoulders that were doing double duty keeping him braced against the assault from behind.

“Po…” Mike couldn’t get the word out. His mouth was dry and his throat seized up. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen guys fucking in the maze, by any means. But then, it was usually two sad
uglies
going at each other.. Times like that it wasn’t hard to break it up.

Bottom Bitch looked straight at Mike as he said, “Fuck it hard. Fucking punch my ass with your cock.”

Mike swallowed. “Police,” he said firmly. “Break it up.” The top took a couple seconds to come out of his trance.

“Oh shit!” he said, startled and then scared as he realized his situation. He pulled out and Mike couldn’t help staring at the big silver ring in the end of his long, fat dick. Damn, that had to hurt going in your ass… But he didn’t stare for long, as the guy did what guys always do in situations like that and covered himself instinctively.

“C’mon, buddy, take a hike,” Mike said in his calm but firm voice, back to himself now. The guy dashed away, holding his pants up, not waiting to button them up before getting around the corner.

“Okay, you too,” he said to the guy on the bench.

He sighed and pulled himself up, still on his knees on the bench, stretching his arms over his head as if waking up from a nap. Mike was looking at him in profile, and had to admire his physique. Mike was a big guy, solid from years of doing construction work for his dad, and from the weights he lifted ever since making the football team in high school. He’d run to fat in a minute if he let himself, and he was always envious of guys who didn’t seem to even have room for their organs in their bodies, they were so trim. This guy’s waistline was so small he thought he could put his hands around it.

He shook himself. What the fuck was that about?

“How’s your evening going, officer?” the naked man asked, just as normal as you like.

“Pull your pants up, please, sir.”

“Oh no, I’m the one who should be calling
you
sir.” He smiled, putting his hands on his ass, arching back just a little.

“Just put your clothes on, please.”

“You sure you want me to do that?”

Mike had seen a lot but this was a first. This guy was asking him to…shit.
I’m straight,
he told his dick, which wasn’t listening.

He shook himself.
And I’m a cop. Even if…which I wouldn’t…but even if, I wouldn’t.

“I don’t want to arrest you, sir. But I will if you don’t pull your pants up right now.”

“Okay, be that way.” He got up and, pants
stil
down, bent over to pick up his shirt, his legs and ass making a perfect A-frame that was just asking to be…

He pulled his tight white t-shirt over his head, then pulled up his jeans, giving his ass a little shake to settle it into place.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave the park now.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll have to arrest you, sir.”

“Well, officer…” He sauntered over and leaned in toward Mike until Mike could feel his body heat, still high from his exertions. “I can’t read your name tag.”

“Officer Crowley. Please keep your distance.”

“My name’s Kenny. And maybe I want to be arrested. By you, anyway,” he smiled, putting a hand right on Mike’s half-swollen cock.

Mike jumped. “That’s it. Turn around. Hands behind your head.”

Kenny did as he was told. Mike cuffed him and started leading him out of the maze. Kenny stopped short, his ass pressing into Mike’s crotch. “What happens if I resist arrest?”

“You are playing with fire, buddy. Let’s go, move it.”

He led Kenny back to the lot, holding him by his arm. He tried not to think about how smooth Kenny’s skin was, how soft and warm. He tried, but it wasn’t working.

He let him go long enough to unlock the gate and get Kenny to the car. He put a hand on Kenny’s head to keep him from knocking it on the roof as Mike deposited him in the back seat.

“Thanks,” Kenny said.

Mike got in the front seat and looked at Kenny in the rear view mirror. “You know, I don’t like to arrest people here. Not for this kind of thing.”

“I know, Officer Mike.”

Mike blinked. “How do you know my first name?”

Kenny smiled. “Yeah I didn’t really need to read your name tag. All the guys know who you are. They always talk about how hot it would be to get arrested by you. To be sitting in the back of your car, all handcuffed and helpless. But then they see you coming in the maze, and they run away.
Chickenshit
bastards, right? So I thought, what the fuck? What could be hotter than getting arrested by the sexiest cop in town?”

“I could book you for assaulting a police officer. Touching a cop is a bad idea.”

“Only if he doesn’t touch you back,” Kenny said with a smile.

“Why do you do this? Why the park?” Mike asked him. “There are plenty of bars in town where you can go and nobody’s going to harass you.”

“Yeah, plenty of bars. Where the drinks are pricy and watered down and you have to put up with people’s small talk bullshit lines and lies just to get laid. You gonna tell me straight bars are any different?”

Mike had to smile. “Not really, no.”

“You get lucky when you go out, Officer Mike? I bet you do. You’re a damn fine looking man, you know that?”

“Thanks,” was all he said. His private life was private, and definitely not something a cop would share with someone in the back of his car.

“You ever have a guy give you a blow job?”

“I’m not gay.”
Dammit
, he hadn’t meant to get into this conversation. He should be putting the key in the ignition and hauling this guy in and getting back to…what? Back to the park to break up more guys doing it? He felt a sudden surge of irritation.

“That’s not what I asked you. You don’t have to be gay to enjoy a blow job. Girls have an advantage, maybe, because their teeth are smaller, so they don’t get in the way. Right?”

Mike didn’t say anything. He knew some girls with some mighty big teeth.

“But see, with a really big dick, like you got, you need a guy, because guys have bigger mouths. Bigger throats, too.”

Mike knew he had a big dick; it had been a subject of jokes in locker rooms all his life. Of course, this was the first time anyone had found out about it by putting his hand on it.

He turned around to look Kenny in the eye. “Listen, whether I was gay or not, nothing is going to happen here. Even if I was, it would be an abuse of police power, and I’m not that guy.”

“Even if someone asks you to abuse it?” Kenny said softly. “Asks you to grab him and cuff him and throw him down on the hood of your car…yank his pants down and shove it in? Maybe use your nightstick to pry it open a little first?”

Mike swallowed, feeling the beads of perspiration forming on his forehead. This had gone far enough. He got out of the car and opened the back door.

“I’m going to let you go this time, Kenny. But I want you to promise me you won’t do this again.”

Kenny laughed. “And would you believe me?”

Mike helped him out and unlocked the cuffs. “Go on, get out of here.”

“Thursday’s your night off, right?”

“Let me guess, all the guys know that, too.”

“You have a good memory for addresses, I bet. 15040 Park Lane. It’s my uncle’s place out in the country. Big spread, lots of land. Thursday night, come on out there. I’ll be in the back, waiting for you.”

“Get going, Kenny.”

Mike sat in the car after seeing Kenny clear of the lot. He called in his break and tried to clear his head. He wasn’t gay; that wasn’t a protest but a fact – he liked girls, he liked their bodies, he loved their tits.

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