Title: Your Bay Area Traffic Report

by MJ Wang

Disclaimer. Poltergeist, the Legacy and all its characters are the property of Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM). This story is written purely for fun and the enjoyment of the fans of the program. No commercial purposes or copyright infringements are intended. No compensation, monetary or otherwise, is being received for this story.

This story contains graphic male/male sex and is intended for consenting adults (NC-17). If you're under 18 or disturbed by such matters then move on, this story is not for you.

This story shall not be posted on any web site or distributed without the author's permission. I can be reached via e-mail if you'd like to comment on this story at parsimony@usa.net.



YOUR BAY AREA TRAFFIC REPORT
By MJ Wang

"-a major crash northbound 101 around Tully Road involving three vehicles. All four lanes are closed and CHP is on the scene. Across the east bay, on the 880 there's a stalled-."

Click.

Derek silenced the grating voice. "Thanks a lot," he muttered to himself. Right now all he wanted was to be ensconced in his favourite chair, a Macallan's in hand and the smooth, rich sounds of MJQ playing softly in the background. Instead, he was stuck here. For the last three miles, the traffic had crawled along in fits and spurts before finally grinding to a standstill. How the hell did people cope with this? Verdamnt! He swore in Dutch and slammed his hand impatiently against the steering wheel.

Nick Boyle jerked awake, immediately alert. Exhausted from three days of constant vigil over a coffin, he had drifted off several miles back. He glanced at the stalled traffic all around them.

"What is it, Derek? An accident?" he asked as he rubbed his weary eyes with the heel of his hand.

"Yeah," growled the Dutchman. "We haven't moved an inch in the last five minutes." With a sigh he turned off the engine; they weren't going anywhere soon.

More familiar with the unpredictable, capricious nature of traffic in the Bay area, Nick sympathized wholly with the other man's anger. He'd spent many frustrating hours himself ensnarled in traffic bottlenecks. He leaned over and rubbed the back of Derek's neck.

"Take it easy, Derek. There's not much we can do until they clear this."

"Oh, that's good," groaned the Precept, closing his eyes as he relaxed into the firm touch. "Oh, yeah, that spot right there."

"Wow, you're really wound up. Turn around."

Nick began at the base of the Precept's neck and worked his way along the broad shoulders, using both hands, his strong fingers working deep into the knotted muscles. Gradually Derek felt his stiff muscles release some of their tension beneath the young man's ministrations.

"Thanks, Nick. That feels a lot better," said Derek gratefully, rolling his head experimentally.

There was the whoop of a siren and flashing lights. An ambulance squeezed past them on the shoulder. A second one soon followed.

"Looks pretty serious," observed the former SEAL. "I think we're going to be here for awhile."

Nick peered out the windows - front, side, and back - examining the stopped vehicles all around them. Drivers stared ahead listlessly, fingers drumming impatiently, frustration writ on their faces. Others chattered away on cell phones or took advantage of the opportunity to catch up on some reading. Most merely looked resigned.

The ex-SEAL unbuckled his seatbelt, slipped down onto the floor and slid over. Derek bolted upright when Nick's fingers massaged his cock through the material of his pants and he grabbed the young man's hand.

"Nick! What are you doing?" he yelped.

"Since we're going to be here awhile, we might as well make the best of it," said Nick coyly.

"Someone will see us," hissed the Precept.

"Relax, boss. Nobody's paying any attention to anything," reassured the young man.

Nick unzipped the wool pants and his eyebrows lifted at the sight of the silk boxers underneath.

"Um, very nice," he murmured approvingly.

He filed the fact away for future reference; at the moment, he had another objective in mind. His hand slipped inside the silk boxers and pulled out the long cock.

He licked his lips. "Yummy." An impish grin quirked his mouth and roguish delight filled the beautiful green eyes. "Just sit back, Derek. I know just the thing to relax you."

Derek glanced wildly at the stopped vehicles around them - surely all eyes were fixed upon their truck - but Nick was right, no one was paying attention. His pulse quickened at the sensation of the young man's warm breath on his cock. A series of soft, gentle kisses applied the length of his shaft had him squirming slightly and he laid a hand on Nick's soft hair in mute encouragement. A pink tongue slowly teased a wet trail up his penis and the organ swelled in immediate response.

Nick bathed the tumescent cock, darkly purple with arousal and thickly veined, with his tongue: long, wet strokes alternating with hard, teasing flickers to the silken flesh. There was a growl low and deep in Derek's throat as Nick's tongue traced the ridge behind the glans and then dived into the slit and the older man writhed with pleasure as the questing tongue teased the sensitive flesh.

When Nick closed moistened lips around the ripe plum that was the head of the straining cock and drew it into the wet furnace of his mouth, Derek's left leg twitched convulsively and his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. "Please, Nick! I need...oh, God, Oh God, yes!" he gasped, his breaths shallow and quick.

Derek's soft moans and the wet sounds of Nick's mouth filled the interior of the vehicle, the outside world of surrounding steel and glass bubbles forgotten. When the Precept tried to thrust his engorged organ into that all-consuming moist heat, Nick stopped and held Derek's hips until the older man surrendered with a groan to the sweet torture. The Precept thrashed his head back and forth against the headrest, his world centered on a few inches of exquisitely sensitive flesh and the mounting pleasure so acute that it was almost painful.

And then his world turned black, filled with exploding stars, while the top of his head threatened to come off as his cock twitched uncontrollably and pumped waves of hot seed down that willing throat. Nick clung to Derek's bucking hips and tried to swallow as much of the spurting fluid as he could, his mouth overfilling with the salty, bitter taste.

"Oh God!" Derek slumped limply against the seat, legs splayed, arms dangling, and chest heaving. "That was incredible," he panted.

Nick looked like the cat who swallowed the canary - or rather a bowl of cream - as he licked his lips to get every delicious drop.

"You're looking much more relaxed now, Derek." He gave the softening cock a final lick and a soft kiss.

There was the low rumble of a powerful engine and in the side mirror Derek saw the motorcycle pulling up behind their vehicle. "Oh God, Nick, it's a cop!" His leg jerked up, the knee catching the young man in the chin and there was the audible click of Nick's teeth snapping shut.

Hastily Derek tucked his cock back inside and yanked up the zipper, wincing and biting back an oath as he caught himself on the metal teeth. Nick scrambled back into his seat, two quick swipes of the back of his hand across his mouth. The Precept tugged his leather jacket around himself as the police officer walked up.

The cop towered over six feet by several inches, his shoulders the width of a doorway, the buttons of his tan uniform around his chest threatening to make good their escape. A black gloved fist the size of a small ham rapped on the glass. Nervously, the Precept rolled down the window.

The cop's expression was unreadable as he filled the driver side window. His nostrils twitched slightly. Mirrored sunglasses stared at them.

"Is everything all right, gentlemen?" The voice was a deep bass.

"Uh, yeah." Derek replied thickly. He cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, Officer. Everything's fine."

"You sure?" asked the officer. "You looked like you might have been having some difficulties."

"No, no. No difficulties at all, Officer." Derek tried desperately to adopt the look of a helpful civilian. He managed to look slightly dyspeptic.

"May I see your driver's license and registration?"

Derek threw Nick a quick glance as he reached across to the glove compartment to retrieve the vehicle registration. Nick avoided the Precept's eyes, the muscles in his jaw working convulsively, and he looked...well, Derek wasn't sure how he looked. The CHP officer examined the documents before carefully scrutinizing the Precept.

"You're Derek Rayne?"

"Yes, Officer. Is there a problem?" The Precept wondered what was the punishment for public lewdness and how could he keep his name out of the papers? He knew several prominent judges. Maybe it was time to call in a few favors.

"Not at all, Mr. Rayne. Everything looks in order." The papers were handed back to the Precept who stuffed them inside his jacket pocket.

There was a long pause. A cold drop of sweat trickled down Derek's back. It was impossible to determine the other man's thoughts; his expression remained impassive, his eyes concealed behind the sunglasses.

"Was there anything else, Officer?"

"The accident's been moved off to the side. We've reopened all the lanes and you should be moving again shortly."

"Thank you, Officer," said Derek, barely concealing his relief. He fought the urge to mop his forehead with his sleeve.

Still the cop didn't move. "Just one more thing."

The cop crooked a finger and beckoned Nick. Puzzled, the ex-SEAL traded wary glances with the Precept before he looked at the officer. The thick finger beckoned him closer. Nick leaned over tentatively and he was shocked when the gloved hand suddenly stroked the side of his face. He stared at his reflection in the mirrored lenses, rapt as the long fingers moved along his jaw down to his chin, the touch surprisingly tender. The smooth leather was warm and buttery soft against his skin and it smelled faintly of oil mixed with sweat and cologne. A thumb sensuously outlined his mouth and rubbed gently against his lower lip. The hand lingered several heartbeats.

"You missed some," said the cop.

A final finger stroke to Nick's cheek and then he was gone, striding back towards his motorcycle. Nick turned his head to follow and watched the cop climb back onto his bike and kick start the motor. The cop gave a little nod as he passed their vehicle. When the young man turned towards the Precept, he found the older man frowning at him, his expression darkly contemplative.

"What?" asked Nick defensively.

The silence stretched out uncomfortably. To the former SEAL's relief, the vehicle in front of them began to move.

"Traffic's moving again," said Nick. He jerked his thumb nervously at the car.

For a long moment the Precept stared at the young man. A car honked at them as other vehicles began to inch forward again. Finally, to Nick's relief, the older man wordlessly turned his attention ahead and started the engine.



THE END