I felt safe . . . and happy, neither something I’d felt in a long time. My mind drifted to the last time we’d been together.
I’d been debriefed and re-debriefed after my last mission, first in The Kingdom, as we called Saudi Arabia, then in Germany, then stateside at Quantico. I hadn’t made it through any of them without breaking down when we discussed the casualties in my platoons and among our brothers. But somehow I’d been deemed able for duty, and I’d been informed that I was assigned to a posting at Quantico – effective immediately! – and was receiving both a rank promotion to captain and a couple of commendations, one of which was a medal.
I had headed back to my first lieutenant’s quarters in a daze, wanting only to be alone, grateful that because of my debriefing status I’d been assigned a single room, despite my rank requiring a roommate. I just wanted to close the door, shut the shades and turn off the lights . . . and hopefully get a grip on the spinning in my mind before the award ceremony first thing the next morning.
I was allowed to ask two guests to my ceremony. If Mrs. Hopper had been alive, it would have been a no-brainer – Gunny and Mrs. Hopper. They were like a second family to me, and since my own family was too far away to get my mom and one of my brothers there by the next morning. On the walk back to my quarters, I remembered a guy I’d fooled around with when I was at the academy, a young instructor, who I knew had left and was teaching at GW now. My mind was just fucked-up enough to decide to invite him. I just had to remember his last name . . .
Harris! Yes, why the fuck not? And maybe I’d get some ass out of it afterward, IF Harris decided to show. FUCK YEAH!
I detoured to the personnel office and got some help finding Harris – Ron Harris, formerly Captain Harris before he’d left the Corps two years before. The young civilian clerk in the personnel office was a bit more than helpful – seemed the personnel office knew of the promotions and commendations, and she’d almost fawned over me in her effort to help me find my friend to witness my awards.
I took the phone number to a phone booth and called right then, half expecting to not get an answer because he’d probably be working, giving a class. When he answered on the third ring, I was startled to speechlessness. Fortunately, I managed to blurt out something before he hung up, after he’d threatened to, after he’d said “hello” and “who’s there” several times.
“Captain Harris? It’s Bill Cate. I don’t know if you remember me, but—“
A laugh interrupted me. “Cate, at the risk of swelling your head, I’ll never forget you, stud,” he said easily, comfortably talking to a guy who’d fucked him several times years ago. “Oh, and I haven’t been Captain Harris in a while. It’s just Ron Harris now.”
“Bill,” I said.
He raised his voice. “RON, not Bill,” he said.
“Nnn-no, I’m Bill. Bill Cate,” I corrected him.
“Ahhhh, so are you out of the Corps now, too?” he asked, operating erroneously off his inference.
“Uh, no, actually I’m still in, and I’m getting a promotion and an award tomorrow morning at Quantico, and I wondered if you’d be one of my guests. You see, it’s too sudden – I just found out today – and no way my mom or brothers can get here, so I thought I’d ask you.” Then it hit me how that had sounded, and I quickly added, “Wait, I didn’t mean it that way.”
He laughed again. “Hey, Cate, I can save us both some time here. If you’re inviting, I’m accepting. I remember the fun we had, and I was sorry it ended when you shipped out. Even if all I end up doing is attending your ceremony and you don’t fuck my brains out after – or before, for that matter – even if, I’ve still gotten to see you.”
I told him what time the ceremony was, thinking he’d probably back down because of his teaching schedule. “I really did only just find out about it about an hour ago. Then I had to find your number.”
“Hey I’ve got an idea. Are you off duty now?”
“I am,” I answered tentatively, not realizing where he was going.
“I need to make a few calls to cancel my classes tomorrow, but then how about I drive down and pick you up? We could . . . well, we could come back to my place and make up for lost time.”
My head said I needed to go into hibernation and get my shit together so that I didn’t lose my shit in the ceremony in the morning. But my cock had a different idea, and my uni pants were already tight in the crotch. I guiltily turned so I was facing into the booth, toward the building wall outside of it, where nobody would see my tented slacks.
“Hey, no pressure, Cate. I’ll be at your ceremony whether you fuck me tonight or not. I just thought . . . “ he’d inserted into the prolonged silence while I was inside my head.
“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about the distance and putting you out with the drive,” I said, proud of myself for the quick thinking. “Why don’t I take the train up to the District?”
“Well, for two reasons. First, the train will take longer than driving. Unless you’re ready to leave right this minute, I can make a couple of calls and be there in an hour and a half at the most.”
“And the second reason?” I asked.
“The second reason is I’ll be with you in an hour and a half, and I’ll have you with me, even if it’s just driving back. You know I never played cool about how I enjoyed being with you, Cate. A drive before you, uh, drive ME sounds nice to me.” He said it with a tone of sincerity, but I also felt his handsome smile through the phone. “So how ‘bout it?” he asked.
I accepted, and I got into his Datsun at the front gate exactly ninety minutes later, throwing a small duffel into the back seat. We exchanged a manly handshake, and I almost came in my pants just from the contact with his warm skin and the strength of his grip. Oh, and the fact that he’d gotten even more handsome, and he’d obviously been working out hard, based on his big, wide shoulders, narrow waist and awesomely defined quads on show beyond his short-cut shorts.
I’d leaned my head back – not easy, given we were both considerably oversized for his tiny car – and slouched down in the seat, my knees jammed against the glove box. The position, I realized and liked the effect, accentuated my re-stoked hardon in my own shorts.
About a block away from the base entrance, Ron leaned over and grabbed my hardon firmly. “VERY nice to see you, too!” he mugged, then he moved his hand to my thigh, making my cock jump, and he ran it up until his long fingers were inside the leg of my shorts and massaging my big full balls. “OH YEAHHHHHH,” he said, huskily, “VERY nice!”
I didn’t move, other than to cover his hand with mine and hold it there. It seemed to be good enough for him, and we rode in silence until the first stop when he had to shift. When he had to use his hand to do that and took it out of my shorts, I put my hand into his shorts and was delighted to find he was freeballing. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmm,” I hummed appreciatively, rubbing his big smooth balls and finally getting my hand around his cock and pulling it out his pantleg.
“OH FUCK!” was all he said, and he repeated my move by putting his hand on mine and tightening my grip on his cock with his hand gripping mine whenever he wasn’t shifting.
That was the extent of our conversation until we got into the District and were, apparently, nearing his apartment. “I REALLY don’t want to ask this, but would you mind unhanding my cock? You’ve only got one duffel, so both of us can’t walk in fully bonered up because we only have the one thing to carry in front of one of us.”
“I could always walk right behind you, close, and I could use your hot ass to hide my hardon while you cover yourself with the duffel,” I said playfully.
We were at a light, and he surprised me by reaching over and pulling me with his hand on the back of my neck until he met my lips and kissed me. I was startled. I didn’t kiss. I’d never kissed Harris.
It was a press of lips, not sucking face, and it was nice, despite my surprise and it being out of my comfort zone. Harris pulled back as the light turned, and I was left with my thoughts scrambled. He chuckled. “That’s a thank you,” he said as we started moving again, and he was busy shifting the sewing-machine class engine in his tiny car. “For this, for just being with you, and for what we’re going to do.”
I looked at him, trying to smile, but my look showed I was still startled and uncertain.
“Look, Cate, I get that you don’t kiss and that was out of bounds. But it wasn’t WAY OUT of bounds, was it?”
“Nnnnn-No,” I finally got out.
“When you shipped out last time I never told you how I felt.”
“Harris, you don’t have to—“
He cut me off. “No, I don’t HAVE to, but I regretted not saying this before. And if you get out of my car and run for the nearest Metro station to get you back to Union Station and Quantico because I say it now, well, at least I won’t have to live with not having told you how I feel.”
I turned to him and said seriously, “Harris – Ron – I’m really going through a lot right now, and I’m flattered you want to tell me something nice, but may I respectfully ask you to save it for when I’m better able to accept it without all this fucked-up shit in my head?”
The universe was conspiring against me, because at that moment we were at a stop again, and Harris could turn and look at me. His look said it all.
“Look,” I filled the silence, “I CAN just head back. I’m sorry if I fucked it up for you.”
“We’re both adults, Cate. And this adult wants you to fuck his brains out, IF you are still willing to.”
His words were direct, but his look still showed his disappointment. My cock cast the deciding vote, twitching in its semi-hard state. “You know you’re fucking HOT! No way I’m going back without having enjoyed you, Harris.”
He smiled, a small smile, but it was a smile. “Hot damn!” he said, unconvincingly. My cock didn’t need to be convinced, and we got to his apartment and inside without another word.
And for the next eleven hours we fucked, sucked, ate (both each other and food!) and slept. The most meaningful words between us were, “FUCK that’s GOOOOOOOOOOOOD!” Because it was. Until . . .
I’d awakened early – training – and was sitting on the sofa in a pair of boxers, my elbows on my knees, my hands on my head when Harris came looking for me. I didn’t hear him, so I didn’t see him until he was right next to me, and I didn’t have time to hide the tears drenching my face. I jerked my head up, startled, embarrassed, awash in shame.
Harris didn’t make any attempt to talk. He sat down on the sofa next to me and put his arm around me and pulled me into him. I tried to resist his comfort, but I was sobbing harder now, for my embarrassment over the exposure of my shame, for my brothers who hadn’t come home or who’d come home with their bodies maimed and broken, the brothers I hadn’t been able to protect. I collapsed into him, my sobs going to wracking wails, and I completely lost it.
Harris never said a word other than, “I’ve got you,” and he held me tighter than anyone has, even when my mother clutched me tight against her after my father had died. I have no idea how long I was undone like that, but I know Harris held me through it, even after my crying stopped, and I was forcing my thoughts to nothing at all.
He let me go gently as I pulled away and stood up. “We’ve got to be getting ready if I’m going to be there on time. You’re still going, right, so I have a ride back down to Quantico?”
I’d said it deliberately, and the shot hit home, as I’d intended. He steeled himself against the hurt and said, “Of course.”
“If I can borrow your iron while you’re showering, then I’ll shower . . . “ I suggested.
He got up mechanically and went to the kitchen and pulled out an iron and an ironing board from a narrow closet. He started to set it up, but I took it and said I’d do it and that he ought to get his shower. Harris just looked at me, holding his hurt gaze on me as I went about getting the iron ready. I could feel his gaze. And then as I went to the closet by the door where I’d hung my uniform when I took it out of the duffel – I hadn’t had a clean dress uni when I got to Quantico and luckily had washed it so only had to iron it anyway – he walked slowly in and I heard the shower start.
We went through the rest of our motions silently until I came out of the shower and was getting dressed. He came into the bedroom – handsome enough to take my breath away in a beautiful suit and tie that accentuated his body, his hair color, his tanned skin, his beautiful eyes – and offered me breakfast. I mumbled that I couldn’t eat because I was too nervous, and he held a beat and then went out when I finally said, “Thanks, that’s great of you to offer,” far too formally.
I laid there in Ron’s arms, feeling his heartbeat under my cheek six months later and thought about what he’d said after the ceremony when I was basically thanking him for coming and sending him on his way. “Congratulations, Captain Cate. I’m awed by you. And I can’t tell you how much you asking me to share this event with you means to me. I hope to see you soon,” he finished, and Gunny Hopper, who’d been there with us, hugged me and shook my hand again before walking Harris back to his car. I moved enough to look at his face, peaceful in slumber, and I was humbled by his forgiveness of me.
As if he knew my thoughts, Ron pulled his arms tighter around me, and I put my head back down on his chest. Ron’s one hand rubbed me a little on my arm, and I said in almost a whisper, “You’re awake,”
“I must be dreaming,” he replied, equally softly. “Because I’ve got the hottest stud in my bed, in my arms.”
I chuckled and rubbed my face against his warm chest. “I’ve got a TON of shit in my head, Ron,” I confessed. “I’m so fucked up.” I wasn’t falling apart, I was just stating a fact . . . and knowing that if I didn’t say it right then, I might never say it, not to him, not to anyone.
Ron hugged me against him. “Since you’re already fucked up, I’m going to tell you what I wanted to tell you two and a half years ago, and what I wanted to tell you six months ago. Think you’re man enough to add this to all the shit you’ve put in your own head, marine?” he asked lightly.
“What if I’m not?” I asked, both frightened and excited.
Ron took a breath, and momentarily I wondered if I’d misread what he was going to say to me. “Bill, you’re amazing. You’re an amazing fuck, but more importantly, you’re an amazing man. I fell for you, Bill. I fell hard for you. And even though I’m older and a badass marine myself . . . “
“Hey, don’t stop now,” I encouraged him. “I’m liking it so far,” I teased him, but I also pulled him tighter with my arm across his torso.
“I feel like I should be saying this to your face, Bill,” he said softly.
“I don’t want to let go yet,” I told him, nuzzling my face against him, feeling my heartbeat quicken. I hadn’t meant to say it, but I’d been thinking it.
“I’m glad,” he said and pulled me tighter. “So I guess I’ll say this to the top of your head,” he continued. “I went beyond like with you a long time ago, Bill. Funny, considering I didn’t even really know your first name until you came back six months ago in the spring. So at the risk of making a total fool of myself here, I’ll just finish this off.” He took a big breath, and as much as I didn’t want him to say it, I did want him to say it. “I was in love with you when you left. I wasn’t over you when you got back and whatever progress I’d tried to make was gone when we saw each other six months ago. And right now, well . . . “ He held me tight and didn’t say any more.
“I’m not really boyfriend material, Ron,” I said into his chest, feeling his chest hair tickle my lips delightfully. I inhaled him and enjoyed the smell of his body, of our sex. I took a swipe at his pec with my tongue and savored the acrid taste of us.
“Mmmmmmm,” he moaned.
I could see his cock starting to respond. I gave thought to going after him, escaping into the sex – which was incredible – and knew I could defuse this moment that way. I also knew it would be dishonest.
I was done with dishonest.
“I’m liable to be reposted just about anywhere just about anytime. And I’m not exactly a romantic or loving kind of guy,” I told him, brutally honest about myself. And while I was at it, “And I’m so fucked up in my head about everything, and just the fact that I’m fucked up about it after all this time, well that tells you I’m a terrible boyfriend prospect.”
“I’m unnaturally, ridiculously afraid of sharks,” he said flatly.
I had no idea what the fuck that had to do with anything. “Well, they do rip people’s limbs off and kill them, so I’d say that’s healthy, Ron.”
“No, I’m terrified and phobic about sharks. I can’t swim in a pool without looking down all the time to make sure there are no sharks in the water, and I’m petrified the entire time. Don’t even think about getting me in a lake or, God forbid, the ocean! I’m a university professor, and I KNOW sharks aren’t in a freshwater lake and certainly not in a pool. But try to force me to go into a lake, and I’ll break down and beg. I’m a fucking marine, and when we had to be in the water, I was bone-chillingly completely totally paralyzed with fear the entire time. How’s that for fucked up?”
“You didn’t leave your brothers dead, Ron . . . and get medals and commendations and a promotion for it . . . and then not be able to keep it straight in your head that you got the medals and the promotion for the men you saved, not for the ones you lost, that I couldn’t help, that I couldn’t have,” and that’s the point the sobbing started again, “That I couldn’t have saved no matter what I’d done.”
And that was it. For the second time I let it all out, again with this man who held me and let me cry it out. This time he wasn’t silent. “Cry for them, Bill,” he encouraged me. “Cry for our brothers who fell, and cry for the world and its cancer of enemies who took the lives of our men.”
When I finally settled down a little, he rubbed my head soothingly, still holding me against him with his other arm as I sniffled into his snot-matted chest hair. “You realize you have it all in your head, Bill. You have the answers. You just don’t like them.”
I pulled myself off him almost violently, fists clenched and suddenly energized. “I fucking hate it! I hate that I lost men!” I shouted, too loud for adjoining walls and other apartments, but not caring one bit.
Ron faced me seriously, holding my burning eyes in his gaze. “THAT,” he said slowly, “You WILL have to live with.” He paused, and when I started to say something he finished his thought. “Because, as you said before, no matter what you’d done, those men’s lives would have been lost to our enemy. You didn’t choose that. You didn’t control that. You couldn’t change that. What you DID do was save other men, men who did come home, men who wish as much as you do, each and every one of them, that they could change places with the men who were lost.”
I was quiet . . . and, yes, for the first time, earlier today, I had realized that. Just as Jeremy had realized that nothing he did caused his mother’s death in the car accident after carrying that burden of guilt and shame for over a year. I’d got special leave – a matter of hours, when it came down to it – to catch transport and get home for her funeral and left immediately afterward. I’d had no idea until today that he’d carried that guilt and was punishing himself for it, and I’d been heartbroken for the waste of him and the path he’d been on, for the sorrow he and his father were imprisoned in without each other for comfort . . . until he and I had talked.
And now Ron and I were talking . . . because I knew when I came here after Jeremy’s emotional boomerang the way kids do when an epic catastrophe is over and suddenly their world is bright again, I knew I needed to get to a place, to someone safe who’d help me get there. I felt safe here. Maybe too safe, given Ron’s confession of feelings, using his emotions for me for my refuge when I didn’t feel the same. Maybe I was just substituting one fraudulent reality for another. Maybe that’s what I am – just a fraud, just using people, just putting people in danger . . .
Ron was up on his knees and had pulled me into his arms on the bed. “Hey, marine, turn it down some. Whatever you’re thinking, just relax and take a breath here,” he told me, holding me tight.
It took me a minute to ratchet down my head, but I finally did by concentrating on Ron’s arms around me, our naked bodies together, warm and hard against each other – hard bodies, not cocks . . . yet – and re-centering myself here instead of where my thoughts spiraled.
“What was it, Bill?” he asked, still holding me.
I didn’t want to let go, but I needed to. “My turn to need to face you to answer that, Ron,” I told him, and I pulled away and sat back, my butt on my heels on the bed. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, Ron, the way you feel about me. I am feeling a lot like you’re taking the brunt of a lot of my shit here, and I’m shoveling it at you because I need to get it SOMEwhere. But you don’t deserve it, and you’re already not getting from me what you want or deserve. I mean—“
Ron put his hand out on my shoulder, and I flashed back to Jeremy earlier. “Hey, Bill, slow down a minute here, okay? Can I have some say in this?” he asked reasonably.
I just looked at him. How different was it that he wanted to be used and not get what he deserved from me from what Jeremy had been doing to punish himself last night?
“Bill, STOP!” Ron commanded sharply, and I snapped into focus on him when he did. “You? Me? Helping you sort your head out? You don’t have to profess your undying love for me just because I told you I’m in love with you for me to want to be a friend and help you. And as far as what I DESERVE, well of the two of us, I think I have a firmer grasp on that, since I’m not beating myself to death saying that the heroic things I did weren’t enough and I should be ashamed that I was just a hero and not a superhero. So I think I’ll go with my own judgment here!”
“Yeah, but—“
“BUT,” he cut me off, “NOTHING!” He had both hands on my shoulders, facing me sternly. “Let’s get one thing absolutely clear here. You ready? Because I don’t want to wound the ego I’ve apparently over-inflated here. I WILL live if you never want to have a relationship with me. I’ll even live if you never fuck me again. Though frankly, my dear,” he was smirking, “That’ll be your loss as much as mine!”
I let go of a guffaw despite my best effort, and he smiled in appreciation.
“Let’s lighten this up a little. I’m going to give you the lightning round here. Ready?” he asked, pausing to see if I was.
I didn’t have the first idea what he meant. “Is that like a quickie?” I asked, serious.
He pushed me with a disgusted look like toward an oversexed adolescent. I almost fell off the side of the bed he pushed me so hard! Fortunately he grabbed me again and pulled me back. “NO, it’s NOT like a QUICKIE,” he chided me. “Lightning round – questions in rapid succession, quick answers in exceptionally short time, with a time limit. What you don’t answer you lose. Ready?”
Shit I had no fucking clue. “Uh, sure,” I said with absolutely no conviction. That was apparently enough for Ron.
“Okay, GO! Are you willing to talk out your problems and take help and keep your head straight, marine? Answer – GO!”
“SIR, YES SIR!” I shouted reflexively, eliciting a laugh from Ron.
“Uh, okay, not necessary, but love the decisiveness. Next question, GO! Are you willing to allow me to choose what I accept as reasonable from you as far as whatever happens between us? Answer – GO!”
“Si—YES!” I caught myself
“Two out of two,” he recapped for me. “You’re doing good, marine. Let’s see if you can finish the round a winner.”
“SIR, I WILL, SIR!” I shouted . . . and cracked him up.
“Okay,” he sputtered, trying to stop laughing. “MARINE! Will you go out to dinner with me? Answer – GO!”
“What the—“
“MARINE, your answer – GO!”
“Yes,” I said uncertainly.
“Good, you’re three out of three. Now for the final question. This might take you down, marine. You ready?”
Dinner . . . clearly as in a date. Not only would I do that, something he and I had never done before, something other than fucking, I’d really like to do it, really like to do a whole bunch of things that were running through my head. Bet he was great at basketball, being tall and athletic like me. And man would he look awesome sweating in the gym.
“BILL!” he brought me back to the present. “Yeah, that was a question. Are you ready for the final question, knowing it’s the final, so it’s a killer?”
“Sure – hit me with it.”
“Final question, marine. Down to the wire. The fate of the free world might very well rest on you getting this right.” He started laughing and couldn’t continue.
I drummed my fingers dramatically on my knee. “Any time now,” I taunted him.
He narrowed his eyes and burned holes in mine as he faced me. “OH, you’re SO going to regret that. This is a killer question for you, Captain Cate, a question which very well might challenge you to step so far outside your comfort zone that you’ll wish you’d never joined this unit.”
“Maybe, but we’ll never know if you don’t hit me with it, will we, MARINE?” I taunted him again.
He got hold of himself and straightened again. “Okay, GO! BILL, WILL YOU LET ME KISS YOU? Answer – GO!”
He’d delivered it with the same facetious command inflection as before, and he was right – it was outside my comfort zone. But I was out of my comfort zone when I wandered to his door with my head in the spin cycle . . . “YES!” I shouted my answer.
He looked surprised. “Really?”
“Come here,” I ordered him. And when he did we fell into an embrace, our lips touching as they had once before, but then our lips parted, and my entire body ignited.
I couldn’t remember the last time I kissed a guy – my last boyfriend, whenever and whoever that was wasn’t something that I could grasp as Ron and I kissed and groped and sucked each other’s faces. We were both hard now – yes, talking about our cocks this time! – and grinding into each other. Our grunts and moans and groans and growls as we sucked each other’s tongue, nipped each other’s lips, teeth knocking, my hand gripping his amazing bubble buttcheeks and my groin assaulting his.
No clue how long we kissed, but I can say we made a good stab on making up for all the time we hadn’t been kissing each other. We finally pushed apart and both fell back on the bed on our backs with a great, shared, long sigh and caught our breath. Both our cocks pointed ceiling-ward.
Our sweat stunk in the air – we’d worked ourselves up all over again during those minutes in the clench. And our breathing was ragged from our excitement. I couldn’t decide whether or not it was good or bad that our kiss had gone so well, all I knew was it had, and I wanted more. That was okay, right, I thought to myself. Men CAN kiss like that and enjoy it, it wasn’t just adolescents indulging their immaturity before they became MEN, right?
“One . . . last . . . question,” Ron panted.
“GO!” I tried to shout, but it came out weak.
“Your yes before, would that apply to that time only, or might I be able to have more of that?”
I took a deep breath before I answered. “I really want to know what it’s like to be kissing you when you cum while I’m fucking you. So I guess I have to agree to your terms.”
Ron laughed . . . and I did.
We were disgusting, but despite agreeing to shower up, one “short kiss” more, and we were all over each other. In fact, I was eating his sweat and my load out of his ass in no time, slobbering all over his sweat-stinking balls and rubbing them on my face and savoring every filthy bit of him. He’d already had my ass-slimed cock down his throat, sucked the sweat out of my pits and sucked my neck at the base, by my shoulder where it drove me crazy, so hard I was sure I’d have a mark to explain. And neither of us cared one bit.
“You’d better fuck me soon,” he panted as I was sucking his hole and chewing his pucker. “Otherwise I’m going to be done before you get started!” he warned.
I laughed into his filthy hole and spit a glob inside him and laved all around his ring, causing him to gasp . . . again. And then I pulled off him and got my hands on his legs and flipped him over and pulled his ass up so he was on all fours, his assring against my throbbing, drooling hardon.
“GOD YES!” he moaned. “DO IT! PLEASE, Bill, FUCK ME!”
I knew he had to be sore, and I started to push into him gently, but he shoved himself back onto me with a roaring grunt and ground his ass into me all by himself. And then he started to move off me, in case I didn’t take the hint to fuck him myself.
I planted my hands on his hips and began to brutally fuck his ass. My strong legs propelled my cock into him so hard that when our balls swung into each other’s mine were aching from the impact. It wasn’t long before I was fucking him so hard that our sweat was causing the smack of our skin to be loud and squishy.
“OH FUCKING HELL YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” he was crying as I pounded him like a dog.
When Ron reached back under and grabbed a handful of my balls in a manly grip, I yelped and growled and redoubled my efforts to shatter his ass with the impact of my thrust. “AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRCCCGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
He just kept yanking and squeezing my balls, the shock waves electrifying me, just like the tightness of his fuckchute milking my long thick hard cock while I drilled him deep. And then he started gyrating his ass on my cock, and I’m sure along with my growls and moans there were whimpers of delight thrown in. I was beyond being strictly speaking aware of what I was saying or what sounds I was making.
“Yeah, that’s it, stud,” he was saying, still using my balls like reins on my piston-fucking pelvis. “Work up that load for me and shoot it DEEP inside me. C’MON! I fucking WANT IT!”
My balls were boiling, and I was damn close to losing my nut . . .
“FUCK YEAH I can feel you close and ready. I fucking want your seed in me, stud. I. FUCKING. WANT. IT!” he growled out.
And that was about when my balls started to explode, that explosion radiating through me as my cumload was jettisoned through my long cock DEEP inside him. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” I shouted as I felt my cumblasts start, my entire body spasming out of my control.
“OH FUCK OH FUCK YEAH OH FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” he cried, and I felt his mancunt clenching and spasming around my cock and his body shaking, and I knew he was dumping his own load all over the bed under us.
When we’d finally both stopped shooting our wads, I pulled him up and against me and pulled his head around so we could kiss, awkwardly but gratifyingly.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmm,” I said into his neck after we’d broken our kiss, and I kissed his sweaty neck and inhaled him.
I had my arms around him from behind and I let one of my hands fall down to take his flagging cock and felt it. “Damn hot cock there, Harris.” And I took his set of low-hangers in my other hand and hefted them. “Hmmmmm, a little light there.”
He laughed. “Yeah, some horse-cocked stud just fucked a load out of me that could make a bull envious!”
I laughed with him. “I’m not sure if that was a compliment for you or for me.” He pulled off me, wincing a bit when I came out of him, and turned to face me. Very seriously he said, “That’s a WE there, Bill. If I do say so myself,” he said, looking down at his cumsplatter, which covered an amazing area on the bedsheet, “I’d say we’re quite a stud-pair.”
I agreed, then I started analyzing the words. Pair . . . as in couple . . . as in—
“Don’t go all skittish on me, Cate!” he reprimanded me. “Just relax and let whatever this is be . . . because it’s damn fucking good just as it is.”
I couldn’t argue with him there.
We saw each other and fucked each other’s brains out – as well as going to dinner, movies, sports events, the gym and even camping together – for another six months, until I was reposted. Ron held me when I was with him and had a nightmare. He took my calls in the middle of the night when we were apart and I had a nightmare. And when he was having a crisis in his career at the college over a tenure battle, I talked him down to sensible strategy and patience.
And we kissed as much as we fucked!
Last week - Hilton Head. Was there on biz, and part of the resort's deal for the attendees was spa certs. So I figured wtf and booked a massage. Requested a masseur not a masseuse cuz being a gay man just more comfortable being skin out with men. Handsome late 20s very str8 looking/acting deep-voiced hot-bodied baseball player type. But I figured shit I wish he wasn't so hot because no
A Week Into The New Life Of The Marine And The Attorney“Have a great day, babe,” the hunky, hairy and very well-fucked attorney who now shared my life said in my ear as he hugged me tight and kissed me on the neck.Day nine for us, and it’s probably absurd to hear a retired marine colonel gush about being in love, even more so about falling head over heels at first sight (ok, to be fair,
Jim, my dark-haired, light-eyed furry musclehunk attorney and I sat eating omelets ravenously and naked at the bar in his incredible magazine-dream kitchen. We’d worked up a major appetite over the previous several hours after meeting at a company picnic. He’d brought me home, and we’d sucked and I’d fucked his brains out, and over again a few times with a shower fuck thrown in between when
The work function which was going to ruin my weekend came with two perks. One was that we were at a really fabulous resort on the west coast and the other was the roommate I’d been assigned was an incredibly hot Navy captain I’d met and had to work to concentrate to speak intelligently. Destined for frustration, sure; but great eye candy!We also had to check in on Thursday afternoon, the
“See something you like?” His deep voice and warm breath on the back of my neck added to my state of arousal. My hunky husband put his big strong hands on my broad sweat-slick shoulders and ran his hands down over my sweaty bare chest to my nipples as he pushed his hard chest and thighs against me and pulled me back into him tighter. “Not bad scenery on the worst of days, Counselor, but
Dinner. A guy I had worked with a lot when he worked for one of our civilian mega-contractors as their liaison officer. Cameron Bennett. It had been a few years. Should I go? After all, it’s not like we’d kept in touch when he left the company. I think once I actually told him, when someone saw him when we were out for dinner and called him “CB” that it sounded like an old movie studio
“DUDE, your dick is either huge or you got some excitement in the shower!” my brand new Academy roommate said to me.We’d just moved in that day, both new cadets. The a/c wasn’t the best, and we’d worked up a sweat as we unpacked and arranged ourselves. Just after inspection I’d headed for the showers. Turner had flopped on his bunk, stripped to his briefs. He was that way when I returned
SPOILER ALERT!!!!!This is not an epic gay fairy tale. There is no happily ever after story, as I’ve now come to know is possible as at that late point in my life I’m living it. This is the story of a hot time . . . in fact a very hot time. If you’re up for some adult male fun, then enjoy. And if you’re a romantic or relationshipist (as I like to call the men who don’t seem to have the
THIS IS THE SECOND PART OF A FULL STORY. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ GENERALLY VOYEURISTIC PART 1, PLEASE DO SO BEFORE READING HERE (AS THE HOT PARTS ARE IN PART 1 ANYWAY!).* * * * * * * * * SPOILER ALERT!!!!!This is not an epic gay fairy tale. There is no happily ever after story, as I’ve now come to know is possible as at that late point in my life I’m living it. This is the story of
[This is my first attempt at fiction. It’s based extremely loosely on a true story told to me by my husband about an encounter he had with a famous man over twenty years ago, but it’s really not that story at all. There will be more about him and me and our real life and romance, but for some reason I felt the need to create rather than to recount . . . at least just this one. Hope you enjoy it.
I was posted to the newly created MCSOCOM as it evolved and then MARSOC under the commander at Camp Lejeune. To say Camp Lejeune was a comedown after being at NATO, the French Embassy and some really choice duties would be an epic understatement. On the other hand, to be back in a combat unit was exactly where I wanted to be! And my team wasn’t sitting on the bench much, so the off-times we
Jim, my lawyer boyfriend, and I sailed through another week together. I was all but moved into his beautiful beach house which him and his 19 year old son, Perry, who was home from college for the summer. My condo was very useful, however, as it was about fifteen minutes from my office and ten from Jim’s. If you’ve already guessed that we had a few “lunch dates” you’d be right.Friday was
This is the second part of a series. The first part is not eligible to be uploaded to this site. If anybody is interested in Part 1, email me.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------My eighteenth birthday was on a Wednesday. My mom and my stepfather were both out of town on business. They’d asked if it was OK with me since the
When I was 20 and in the Academy, my older step-brother Cain came to town for business. Cain had finally gotten a job of his dreams – or secondary dreams, given his first had been to be a pro baseball player, and that hadn’t happened for him – and was on the player personnel staff for a major league baseball team that was in Baltimore for a weekend of games. Cain’s father, my stepfather,
Chapter 1 – Long FlightI snuck a look – AGAIN – at the hot guy in the boring off-the-rack suit sitting in the aisle seat to my right. Mmmm mmmm good. The uber-sexy body which I’d noticed when he boarded after me and was maneuvering around getting himself and his stuff situated. That bod moving in his off-the-rack blended weave suit slacks which weren’t made for an ass like that, nor was
It was unseasonably hot for Memorial Day weekend – high eighties, humidity higher than normal and making it feel like mid-90s. The almost-hurricane off the coast was signaling is imminent arrival.The picnic was in full tilt. There were well over 300 people enjoying the food, the sports activities, the pool and the beach at the defunct beach club my company had rented for this Saturday
Sunday tennis with an equally non-penitent recovering Catholic like me. It was a frequent ritual and a bit of a private joke among us that tennis was our version of worship. It was like that with Ames and me, at least since we’d both retired from the Marines at roughly the same time. Oh, yeah, and for roughly the same reason. But that’s another story.This Sunday was the beginning of
I was posted to MCSOCOM (it was to evolve later to MARSOC) under the commander at Camp Lejeune. I’d gotten used to having my home base being the shithole we affectionately (and realistically) called “Camp Swampy” after having most recently transferred from duty at NATO and before that the US Embassy in Paris. Camp Swampy, as sultry and unsophisticated (I almost wrote ‘uncivilized’!) as it was,
We had more than a quickie in the shower. In fact, what started out as him on his knees blowing me as the multiple jets streamed steamy-hot water over both of us ended up being one of the hottest slamfucks we’d had, him against the tiles with his one leg up on a step and my cock reaming him balls deep as hard as I could without both of us slipping and killing ourselves in the shower. My arm was
My (now) husband’s big hand on my sweaty arm brought my consciousness up a few levels from the sun and surf induced reverie I was in. “How does it feel, Bill?” Jim asked in a husky voice from the lounge next to mine. He rubbed my arm just enough to send an electric shock through my body, squarely landing in my balls, as his touch always did. “You keep doing that and everyone out here will
We were sitting there, both cross-legged, naked, on the bed in my condo, where I didn’t live any longer, after another mind-blowing fucksession. My lover/partner of fifty-five days (I didn’t know the number of days at that point, but I knew it was both new and also that it was amazingly wonderful) Jim, my hunky, hairy, muscular, dark, sexy, smart, loving, exciting,
“Hey bud, haven’t seen you for a while now; didn’t know you were back,” the sweating stud in the white sweat-soaked sweatshirt with the arms cut out to show off his massive shoulder caps, biceps and triceps said to me, his blonde-furred muscular forearm out to shake hands.Of course I’d seen him the second I entered the gym floor. I’d fought the urge to pop a bone right then and there with the
“Jesus Christ I’m sore, Bill,” my sexy new man said, as we headed to the shower. We both stunk of sex. My cum was running down his thigh out of his freshly fucked ass, as his thick muscular furry legs rippled and pumped in front of me as we headed down the hall, and his fuzzy ass-globes bounced. My cock was rock-hard again just watching those mounds of pleasure – and all of him – and that
“YEAH!” my partner Jim’s nineteen-year-old son yelled and pumped his fist in the air after he caught me off my feet with a perfect shot to the baseline just out of reach of my desperately outstretched racket.“Good shot,” I called to Perry across the net. “Forty fifteen,” I called, reminding him he’d been a shot away from losing that game and the set and the match before that last-gasp shot.
“Hey, Co-Dad, can I talk to you about something?” My partner (and soon-to-be husband, which positively blows my mind, but then again, even having a wildly hot partner whom I love to and with and from the depths of my being blows my mind), Jim, has a buoyant, brilliant, beautiful (and often bawdy) nineteen year-old son, Perry, who has taken to calling me “Co-Dad”. It made me uncomfortable at
I was fucking Jim brutally – every stroke HARD, slamming into him. My sweat was flying every time our bodies collided, my huge horsecock relentlessly pounding into his fuckchute. His shouts were louder than ever before, and I had my sweaty jockstrap stuffed in his mouth to muffle him as much as I could, his arms restrained behind him by my hands.“You think that musclebitch at the gym could
I awoke hard, startled. Jim was sound asleep still. I could see by lifting my arm around him enough that it was ten-forty-one. The lawnmower was going out in the back.Jim had been up earlier, as had I. We’d had a wild night – well, no wilder than usual, but since it was Friday night and no work today, a few more times – of sex and play. When we’d gotten up in the We as usual we couldn’t
It had been a long and stressful workday. Hell, the three days this week had all been long and stressful. And for no apparent reason, the traffic northeast out to the coast where I was now living in my boyfriend’s lavish home was nightmarish. Twelve hours at the office, starting at six; almost an hour in so leaving at just after five; and then almost an hour and a half coming home. UGH!
The Marine Sweats At Dawn.I awoke at 05:35 with a raging hardon, right out of the middle of a HOT dream about my even hotter former French Canadian lover, JP (Jean-Pierre), whom I’d seen the year before again while on a trip back to Paris. JP was about the only recurring stud who visited me in my dreams, his ass always needing another slam-fucking, always his hot swimmer’s body inviting
I’d got to the medical suite about twenty minutes before the time the doctor had set up for me with his medic who did physical therapy, and the nurse had told me to go from the medical suite in the embassy office building to the gym – in the men’s locker room there was a therapy room, and that was where I was to wait. I went into the small, windowless room – there were some workspaces around the
At 1839 a soft knock at the door of my quarters had me stopping my pacing and making a beeline for the door. He was even cuter than before, wearing khaki slacks and a green shirt that was roughly the shade of his eyes. He was grinning up at me, just standing there, until I realized I was filling the doorway. I stood to the side, and as he walked in past me he deliberately brushed against me.
I’d got to the medical suite about twenty minutes before the time the doctor had set up for me with his medic who did physical therapy, and the nurse had told me to go from the medical suite in the embassy office building to the gym – in the men’s locker room there was a therapy room, and that was where I was to wait. I went into the small, windowless room – there were some workspaces around the
The Marine, His PTSD, The Gunnery Sergeant And His Son – Part 1I’d just been cycled back stateside after a traumatic deployment, first to Kuwait, then to Iraq. It was my first combat mission, which I’d done everything I could to get. Chalk that up to the arrogant stupidity of my youth.I was welcomed home with open arms, had a great posting and had been promoted. “Captain Cate” had a
I contentedly lay in Ron’s bed after we’d fucked ourselves out, the cords of his muscular arms comfortingly holding me tight, and his chest hair, sweaty and cummy from his forceful eruption, soft against the side of my face. The rise and fall of his of his pecs as he breathed served to lull me into near-sleep. I drifted in his sweaty embrace, inhaling the smell of our sex.I felt safe . . .
We were in Jim’s big, sporty BMW on our way home together, leaving the District. He was driving, as was his preference, though I’d driven in from my office at the Pentagon to pick him up. “Oh, and Clancy called to confirm that his guys delivered the bricks and sent some photographs for me to confirm he’d delivered what we’d chosen.” He picked up his Galaxy 3 off the console and handed it across
When we woke after our post-fuck(s) nap, it was the middle of the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d slept in until nearly ten. Oh, right – we never had! Sure we were up fucking from just after five until nearly eight, but still, it wasn’t like us to oversleep. Jim held me tight against him, even though we were both awake. “I meant what I said, Bill,” he said, almost
I still awoke at dawn despite having fucked, sucked, showered, cuddled and repeated a few times the night and wee hours of the morning before we finally slept . . . some. Jim was sleeping soundly, his almost imperceptible snores, as always, sending bolts of electricity straight to my balls. I had my arm around him, my nose to his neck, and I could smell the sex despite several showers, a
I still awoke at dawn despite having fucked, sucked, showered, cuddled and repeated a few times the night and wee hours of the morning before we finally slept . . . some. Jim was sleeping soundly, his almost imperceptible snores, as always, sending bolts of electricity straight to my balls. I had my arm around him, my nose to his neck, and I could smell the sex despite several showers, a
I was on leave and had caught transport to the first place I could find with sun. Turned out to be Tampa. I went to the Grand Hyatt and sort of crashed the pool. OK, I totally crashed it. I wasn’t a checked-in guest, and had no hope of being one on my budget, but I thought the pool would be a great place to enjoy some sun. I was right about that. Not only was there plenty of sun, but there
I was a captain stationed at the American Embassy in Paris when I was twenty-five. I had been assigned to the Ambassador’s personal staff, and he and his wife had taken a liking to me right off. They were going to be attending Wimbledon that year as a guest of one of the Queen’s cousins, the Duke of Kent, with whom the ambassador had served on a UN peace-keeping mission in Cyprus. The
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