“You . . .” The jogger lunged at the blond, who screamed and tried to run. But the jogger was too fast and too big. He grabbed the blond’s arm, swung him around, and threw him to the ground. The blond struggled onto his hands and knees and tried to get up and run, but the jogger straddled his legs and gripped his thighs between his knees. He yanked down the orange shorts and stabbed his now almost fully hard pole at the blond’s hole and, the blond being well used, gained a very fast entry. The blond screamed at the sudden invasion, and the jogger laughed. “You will be screaming for real soon, you . . . you . . .”
The jogger was now pounding the blond’s ass in a rage, grunting loudly and jerking the blond’s light body about. The blond was wailing and begging to be allowed to do something, but it didn’t sound like escape. Mutto stopped to watch and began stroking himself, but Hank grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
“That was a lucky escape. Don’t push your luck.”
The three muscular hunks melted into the trees and disappeared as the blond’s cries attracted the attention of a policeman on patrol along the jogging path, who decided he had better investigate.
* * * *
The jogger was in jail, waiting for his arraignment, when Dirk came around to his apartment to pick up the check. Dirk had done a side deal by helping the jogger, without letting Hank and Mutto in on the plan, set up the banging he’d been wanting to do to the blond for some time.
When the jogger wasn’t there the second time Dirk called by, Dirk just wrote it off as good luck that he, Hank, and Mutto hadn’t been there when the cop had arrived. He felt a little sorry, too, that he’d told the jogger that cops didn’t normally police that section of the park.