Series. Police Academy
Summary: An evening in the Blue Oyster Bar
Disclaimer: The characters in this story don’t belong to me. I only borrowed them for some fun. No moneymaking, no violation of copyrights are intended. The story is mine and it is just fanfiction. If you are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with this topic, then look elsewhere for your entertainment. English is not my native language, so please be patient with my mistakes.
"You’re a sweetheart." Harris double backed even more – meaning he tried because behind him suddenly appeared another of this perverted types in leather like the one in front of him. When he pushed against him and hot breath whispered into his ear, he stepped forward again till he almost collided with the annoying other guy then stopped. All perverted her, all perverted -- Mahony would get something to hear (after all the alleged secret tip with this Blue Oyster Bar had come from him) -- when he came out here. If he came out here. "Proctor!"
"Here, Sir!” came the answer from a group in the other end of the room.
"Bring is out here, immediately!" Harris ordered. "But Sweetie, who wants to leave us already?” the type in front of him said and moved even another bit closer. "I love nice boys in uniform... and their sticks,” He laughed bleatingly.
"Dare you, I’m from the police." Harris tried hardly -- and relatively vainly – to put some authority in his voice. But he sounded more like the growing panic, which he felt rising from second to second.
"And I’m from the Salvation Army, sweetie,” the type behind him answered and pressed against him. Harris winced.
"Proctor!" From the other side of the room him answered only a muffled groan.
"I’m Captain Harris from the Police Academy and a happily married man. You fags should leave me alone, immediately," tried Harris to escape once more.
"And I’m Queen Victoria,” sounded it from behind him, accompanied by a couple of intense thrusts against his ass and a hand grasping into his groin. Harris yelled out.
"Hey, bring the little one here, he surely is his lover!" called the type in front of him. Proctor was pushed through the room under loud raucous bawling. Harris noticed, that he and his uniform looked somewhat out of order. The shirt was torn up, the belt hung in a bulk over the hips. He stumbled in front of Harris.
"Then show us how much you like each other," the leather type demanded. "We want to watch, how you do it." The others answered with agreeing bawls.
"Sir, I believe, they want us..,." Proctor threw in timidly.
"Shut your mouth and bring us out of this!" Harris growled.
"C’mon." They were pushed to each other from two directions. "Kiss!"
"Sir, we should... perhaps anyway," Proctor suggested Proctor and found himself after another push immediately in front of Harris’ face. Since nothing better occurred to him he pressed his lips for timidly and briefly on Harris’. The visitors answered with a loud applause.
While Harris tried to push the lieutenant away Proctor seemed to find pleasure in the kissing. Harris "Proctor, stop..," More couldn’t Harris say because Proctor had his lips once more pressed – now firm and longer - on the mouth of his superior. And with a fundamentally more enthusiasm.
"Proctor, for this you will...," another kiss interrupted Harris' volubility, hardly that he had been able to catch some breath. The kiss was even more imperious, virtually passionate as it appeared to Harris. Slow he really felt uncomfortably. Did Proctor really press himself still more narrowly to him down there? And was he really kneading his buttocks? This couldn’t be true. He couldn't mean this seriously, could he?
Finally Harris succeeded in freeing his mouth, primarily because Proctor had to catch some air. Therefore he found the rest of his body again in an extremely narrow embrace. And what was this pressed against his hip? This couldn't... no? Proctor wouldn't...
"Proctor, I hope, that is your night stick which I feel there, " he growled while the crowd shouted enthusiastically. "C’mon!” “Take your clothes off! "Make ti to him!” “Show it to us!” “We want to see your sticks!”
Somehow, Captain Harris thought, was he just really in trouble. And Proctor actually began to open his trousers.