This is a work of absolutely total fiction. Not a word of truth to it, 100% entirely my imagination.
My name is Jerry. My partner, Jeff, and I live in the suburbs of a major metropolitan area. Im a financial planning consultant and hes a doctor. We own a house, two cars, and lead a very placid domestic life. Were really not into the quote unquote gay scene, but instead spend a lot of time socializing with friends, going to the theater or movies, camping, hiking and skiing in the winter. Were really pretty boring and whitebread, but with one exception.
Im a cat burglar.
It started when I was in high school on a dare, and it gradually became somewhat habitual. As I turned 18, I began to understand the risks and consequences of my actions, and yet I still couldnt stop myself. Except at the very beginning, Ive never taken anything of any value for me its the thrill of being inside another human beings personal space in a way unknownst to them. On the rare occasions when I take anything, it is a small memento a CD or a piece of clothing that the owner would likely overlook its absence. Nobody not even Jeff knows about this, its something I have 100% kept to myself my whole life.
At this point, Im 35 and I only do it a couple of times a year when the compulsion becomes undeniable. I plan meticulously for weeks at a time, for a break-and-entry that rarely lasts more than a few minutes at the most. The thrill is incredible and, for reasons that he of course doesnt understand, Jeff and I always have absolutely mind-blowing sex the evening after one of my runs.
Id been feeling the urge for a few weeks and finally identified my latest target. It was a young man who obviously lived alone in an apartment in a quiet complex on the outskirts of town. His lights went on predictably at 6:30 am every morning. At 6:45 theyd go out, and a minute or two later he would drive away in a full-size Dodge pickup, never returning before 5:00 pm. Perfect for my purposes.
I re-arranged my client schedule so I had an entire day free, and drove my Audi to a small slip road behind the apartment complex. I walked upstairs nonchalantly, though the entire place appeared deserted. A few moments with my trusty lockpicks, and I was inside his apartment.
The main feature of the living room was an absolutely enormous plasma TV and theater system facing a small couch. One huge DVD tower held dozens of sports titles and action movies, while the other tower held an enormous variety of straight porn, appearing to lean towards raunchy submission themes. Next to the couch were some porn mags of similar variety, some lube and towels.
Next, the kitchen. A garbage can containing an empty pizza box and several empty Coronas. In the fridge, more beer, and the condiments one uses to dress up fast food. So far, the residence of a single male with typically unimaginative tastes.
On to the bedroom. Fairly Spartan, with one king-size bed and some simple IKEA furnishings. A pile of dirty laundry lay on the floor against the wall. At the top of the pile was a pair of boxer briefs. I picked them up, to find them absolutely sodden with cum. He must have jerked off that morning and used the briefs to wipe himself off. So, my souvenir of the visit, then.
In the closet, some typical shirts, two not-so-typical Armani suits, and my first surprise two police uniforms. One set of everyday patrol blues, and a dress uniform. If hes a cop, why only two uniforms? I wondered. I glanced over at the top of his dresser which had several photos of policemen. I looked closer and was riveted in shock.
I hadnt seen him up close, all I could tell was he was in his mid-twenties, tall and very well-built. But this was evidently the same man, with heavy, brooding features, standing next to an older man who was obviously his father. It was Aaron Barnes, the mayor of our nearby metropolis. Elected in a landslide three years ago, he saw his popularity and prestige plummet when one of his aides was convicted in a minor corruption scandal, and he was caught DUI with a hooker in his city-issued Escalade.
But the worst was a scandal involving his son, Jason, who had been the target of several sexual harassment complaints while in the police academy, and then several excessive force lawsuits after he graduated. The last one exploded into a huge lawsuit against the city. He was fired from the police force, and the two officers on duty with him nearly lost their jobs.
In a flash, I realized Id broken into the apartment of Jason Barnes, one of the most notorious members of our police force in many years, and a man of unquestionably malevolent and violent tendencies. This was enormously exciting to me and I stood lost in thought. The sound of a key turning in the front door lock snapped me back to reality.
My name is Jerry. My partner, Jeff, and I live in the suburbs of a major metropolitan area. Im a financial planning consultant and hes a doctor. We own a house, two cars, and lead a very placid domestic life. Were really not into the quote unquote gay scene, but instead spend a lot of time socializing with friends, going to the theater or movies, camping, hiking and skiing in the winter. Were really pretty boring and whitebread, but with one exception.
Im a cat burglar.
It started when I was in high school on a dare, and it gradually became somewhat habitual. As I turned 18, I began to understand the risks and consequences of my actions, and yet I still couldnt stop myself. Except at the very beginning, Ive never taken anything of any value for me its the thrill of being inside another human beings personal space in a way unknownst to them. On the rare occasions when I take anything, it is a small memento a CD or a piece of clothing that the owner would likely overlook its absence. Nobody not even Jeff knows about this, its something I have 100% kept to myself my whole life.
At this point, Im 35 and I only do it a couple of times a year when the compulsion becomes undeniable. I plan meticulously for weeks at a time, for a break-and-entry that rarely lasts more than a few minutes at the most. The thrill is incredible and, for reasons that he of course doesnt understand, Jeff and I always have absolutely mind-blowing sex the evening after one of my runs.
Id been feeling the urge for a few weeks and finally identified my latest target. It was a young man who obviously lived alone in an apartment in a quiet complex on the outskirts of town. His lights went on predictably at 6:30 am every morning. At 6:45 theyd go out, and a minute or two later he would drive away in a full-size Dodge pickup, never returning before 5:00 pm. Perfect for my purposes.
I re-arranged my client schedule so I had an entire day free, and drove my Audi to a small slip road behind the apartment complex. I walked upstairs nonchalantly, though the entire place appeared deserted. A few moments with my trusty lockpicks, and I was inside his apartment.
The main feature of the living room was an absolutely enormous plasma TV and theater system facing a small couch. One huge DVD tower held dozens of sports titles and action movies, while the other tower held an enormous variety of straight porn, appearing to lean towards raunchy submission themes. Next to the couch were some porn mags of similar variety, some lube and towels.
Next, the kitchen. A garbage can containing an empty pizza box and several empty Coronas. In the fridge, more beer, and the condiments one uses to dress up fast food. So far, the residence of a single male with typically unimaginative tastes.
On to the bedroom. Fairly Spartan, with one king-size bed and some simple IKEA furnishings. A pile of dirty laundry lay on the floor against the wall. At the top of the pile was a pair of boxer briefs. I picked them up, to find them absolutely sodden with cum. He must have jerked off that morning and used the briefs to wipe himself off. So, my souvenir of the visit, then.
In the closet, some typical shirts, two not-so-typical Armani suits, and my first surprise two police uniforms. One set of everyday patrol blues, and a dress uniform. If hes a cop, why only two uniforms? I wondered. I glanced over at the top of his dresser which had several photos of policemen. I looked closer and was riveted in shock.
I hadnt seen him up close, all I could tell was he was in his mid-twenties, tall and very well-built. But this was evidently the same man, with heavy, brooding features, standing next to an older man who was obviously his father. It was Aaron Barnes, the mayor of our nearby metropolis. Elected in a landslide three years ago, he saw his popularity and prestige plummet when one of his aides was convicted in a minor corruption scandal, and he was caught DUI with a hooker in his city-issued Escalade.
But the worst was a scandal involving his son, Jason, who had been the target of several sexual harassment complaints while in the police academy, and then several excessive force lawsuits after he graduated. The last one exploded into a huge lawsuit against the city. He was fired from the police force, and the two officers on duty with him nearly lost their jobs.
In a flash, I realized Id broken into the apartment of Jason Barnes, one of the most notorious members of our police force in many years, and a man of unquestionably malevolent and violent tendencies. This was enormously exciting to me and I stood lost in thought. The sound of a key turning in the front door lock snapped me back to reality.
