Top Gun Pete Mitchell Novels & Stories

His eyes darted around wildly. The backyard was quiet. No officers. No sirens. Pete released a shaky breath. With the intention to use the fence, he hurried toward it quickly. His hands grabbed the top edge as he prepared climbing over desperately. Then a voice broke out behind him. “Freeze!” Pete stop and froze, turning slowly to meet a man on police uniform. “Your hands in the air. Turn around slowly.” The officer stood several feet away with his gun pointed directly toward Pete. Pete’s entire body went cold instantly.

That was the end over sensuous frottage moment, but I grinned, "The boys looked good together...if we could shoot together, that big, double load would be fuck'n hot!" Reaching around, Jodi spread his ass as he got into position, "Pete...honey, you ready?" He nodded and held my shoulders, lowering himself to my dick. I held it with both hands, aiming and guiding it in. He moaned, "Fuckkkkkkk," as the head slipped inside. Pete proves it again and again...he's a bottom, and content to be a hole for my cock's use. Getting it just inside and pausing, he smiled at both of us, and slowly lowered himself.

We finally reach the exit when I look over at Pete. "Where is your friend meeting us?" He looks out the glass door and points to a clean, brand new, black Tahoe with heavily tinted windows sitting right outside of the door. How did he manage to get a spot so close to the door without someone honking to move him along? We push through the doors and step out into the sun. Both the driver's side door and the passenger side door of the Tahoe open and two massive men stepped out from each door. The first one to grab Pete and hug him tightly was at least six feet tall. He had brown hair cut into short spikes on top of his head, a nose and lip piercing, and a nicely chiseled body. His eyes meet min

The big guy grabs Pete by the collar, curling his bicep so that Pete is basically dangling from his fist, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the floor. “We do whatever we want in here, okay?” the big brute snaps, leaning in close to Pete’s face so that it’s sprayed with spittle. I go pale then as mobster pulls a gun out of his suit jacket, pointing it right at Pete’s head. “Now,” he says, his voice dangerous and soft. “You show me where that girl went.” “This way –“ Pete’s voice squeaks, his face turning red with fear and lack of air. “I’ll show you –“

They grunt and murmur among themselves as I raise a hand to show I mean no harm. One of them steps forward—Marlon, his long black curly hair half-tied behind his head, a scar running from his temple across his eye, stopping above his lip. He's a massive figure, just like his friend Garmond. "Pete has been expecting you, you little runaway." "Nice to see you too, Marl," I grunt, pushing past them and heading up the stairs to Pete's office. My fingers are crossed, hoping I'm not about to face hell.

“Are you insane?!” Mitch growled at him. “What sort of stupid proposition is this? Are you that tired of living?” Pete smiled, tilting his head to the side as he stared at him. He knew his plans were working. His words were getting to my mates. Soon, he would have what he wanted, but I wasn't about to let that happen.

“Is my fan club staying upstairs in the Inn?” As he started stocking the refrigerator under the bar, Pete shook his head. “Nah. Said him and his mates are staying up on the glacier at a hunting cabin. Some big game kill of a lifetime thing or something.” As last night’s events came back to him, Pete looked at the stack of papers on the counter. “Hold on…he gave me a card to give you. Said you’d know exactly why he was here.” Looking through the bills, Pete clicked his tongue. “There it is. Mitchell Riley, Jr. Fantasy Creature Sport Association.”

They laughed as they listened to Pete’s story about how Troy had been a pain in the arse during the battle with the Wyatt clan. “In fact, I almost shifted back to human when I saw the boy because I wanted to strangle him with my bare hands,” Pete said. “What did he do?” Gloria chuckled. “Mama G, that son of yours has got a mean aim, I ain’t gonna lie.” Pete groaned. “He wounded Malik and Alex.” “Malik?” Joel looked shocked. “Now you understand why I said he’s got aim?” Pete chuckled. “If Pete and I had gotten to him…” Stan shook his head as he recalled how both Pete and himself had charged at Troy on that day.