very least.
As he was about to make the connection, his now erect cock in one hand, John's, flaccid yet easily accessible, in the other, Bruce yelled out, "He's got a weapon. Duck, Casey."
Casey hadn't seen how, but John had managed to get an arm free from Bruce's hold. Perhaps keeping him silent and holding onto him was too much. Whatever the reason, Casey reacted. He didn't know how, didn't fully comprehend what instinct caused him to act, but he did as Bruce instructed. He ducked, just in the nick of time, too. Taser wires zoomed past him, cutting the air so very close to his right ear. Any closer and he would have been stunned, his partner left to his own devices, he'd be certain. In fact, he was sure there was a touch there. Thankfully, not the metallic probe part--the part which conducted the charge of the device.
Casey pulled on John's dick, touching the man's foreskin with his own.
John stopped his struggle.
Bruce sighed relief. "Now all I've got to do is get myself from underneath him, and you can do your thing, buddy. Thank the stars above you didn't get stung by the taser, explaining to the Sarge about you being unconscious with your dick hanging out of your pants wouldn't exactly be my cup of tea, if you know what I mean."
Casey retracted John's foreskin, moving to cover his own over the man's rather large head. When he had completed the join, he massaged he connection. His stomach tingled. John got hard. Although, unlike Peter, John's head didn't engorge to such a large size. Casey's foreskin had plenty of stretch left in it. A good thing, too. If John was a large ejaculator, then he could hold all the fluid without making a mess.
His foreskin continued to tingle. John's gaze fell to the distance, staring up at the fluorescent lights, the man in the most perfect state to question. Thing was, the taser wires weren't loose, they hadn't fallen harmlessly onto the ground as Casey would have imagined them to have.
Bruce's next words confirmed what had happened. "I think poor Peter's going to be out for a while. The guard must have set this damn thing on its highest setting. Damn lucky you didn't get stung."
Casey didn't answer. He was busy making sure his foreskin sent its magic into John, give him a good dose. The man could prove to be a useful when it came to getting Randy Piper.
Bruce had pulled himself out from underneath John, stood over them, watching Casey work. He sucked in the air through his teeth, rubbing his arm. "I think I've hurt myself."
Concern washed over Casey, so much so he almost removed his hand from the join, catching himself before he did so. He couldn't let John remember this incident. He had to make the man cum. "You okay?"
"Yeah, nothing a bit of physio won't fix. I'm not a spring chicken anymore, you know. Bound to get a few bumps and bruises from scuffling with perps every now and again. And John here was a bit of a weight. Too many frosted donuts, I'd say."
"Did you want me to look at your arm after I've finished here?"
Bruce snorted. "No way. Your hands have touched two bloke's dicks tonight and you haven't washed them. Until you shower, I'll pass thanks."
Casey let out a laugh, knowing full well Bruce was having a lend of him. "You just wait until I'm done with John, I'll show you--now, John, where's Randy Piper hiding?"
"He's in his office waiting for you, Casey."
Bruce snorted again. "That fixes it, I'm getting my gun. You going to be long, buddy?"
"Nope." Casey's reply was true. Already he could feel the pangs of ecstasy rise up within him. John was hard, his breaths short, the look of sheer joy etched onto his face. "Not long at all."
Chapter Eight
Casey climaxed a few moments after John. Unfortunately, the joy was short lived. From one of the far doors, Randy Piper emerged, pistol in hand and looking like he was a man on a mission. Eyes glaring, his smile a scar. Bruce tried with all his might to get his own weapon, but failed. Randy picked it up before he