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Once again, Eddie's parents had no plans for that weekend. We met Friday, Saturday, and Sunday at the fort. I didn't tell him about Charlie and Lenny, not because I was hiding anything, but because I felt that it was my own business. He didn't bring lube with him ("How would I explain carrying that around?"), so we had to settle for me sucking him off each time. He returned the favor once and we went our separate ways, promising to see each other again soon.
I didn't tell him about my family moving away, either. I think I was afraid of what he would say.
The next weekend, things were better. We got started before the sun went down Saturday. With Johnny tucked away in his room, we had the whole house to ourselves. Once I took off my clothes, they stayed off.
We took it slow, enjoying every minute. As the night wound down, we went to his room. I knelt on the wooden chair that had sat unused in there since I had begun coming over, leaning my elbows on the window sill, smelling the sweet, summer air and gazing up at the full moon behind the drifting clouds. Eddie stood behind me, his hands on the sill and his face next to mine, slowly sliding in and out of my ass with tender, loving strokes. For a while, he didn't even seem to be trying to come. He just eased in and out, slow and gentle.
Eventually, however, he started getting faster and harder. He wound up with his hands holding me at the waist and we were both grunting and groaning as he pummeled me from behind. His pelvis was slap-slap-slapping my rump as he pounded harder and harder.
I think I moaned as loud as he did when he finally came.
As we cuddled to sleep, I finally told him about me moving off-base.
He was quiet for a while. When he answered me, he hugged me close to his side. "That might be for the best."
He told me that what we had couldn't last much longer without someone finding out about it anyway. We had had a lot of fun together, but he was trying to get "Katie" to go out with him. It wouldn't work out if anyone found out and he wouldn't be there as much.
"It had to end sometime," he whispered. "Let's not think about it right now."
I let him kiss me a few more times then we went to sleep.
In the morning, he promised it wasn't over just like that, but to be ready for it soon. I wanted to cry, but I managed to keep it together. When he was in the bathroom, I snuck into Johnny's room and swiped the tube of butt-slick that he still had. I didn't see him needing it anymore, and I just might, if things went well.
I probably sulked around for the next couple days. My mother chalked it up to having to say Goodbye to all my friends. She had no clue.
I was walking the woods the following week. If I remember right, it was the next Tuesday. I know it was early in the week, because I was still in my funk. Eddie had promised that his folks had another party that weekend and that we would have one last Saturday night together.
I followed one path deeper into the woods than I had ever been before. I came across an old home foundation that might well have been from the Civil War period or even older. Further in, I stumbled across what I thought was just a heavy rock. It turned out to be an old tombstone. (I found out years later that some kid got an award from the state's genealogical society for the same discovery. Seems there were over a hundred such graves throughout the woods, some with legible names on them, some with only numbers, which were for slaves) When I came out of the woods, I was standing at the edge of a highway.
Though I could have found my way back through the woods, I was also thirsty and knew where I was. There was a civilian convenience store just up the road, by the next exit. I had taken to carrying a small rucksack with granola and swim trunks and a certain tube I had absconded with. I might have quit the Boy Scouts, but the idea of being prepared made perfect sense to me. Keeping well off the four-lane, I got to the store, grabbed a soda pop, and started for home, taking the longer route.
Walking the side of the road that passed along the border of the base, I worked my way back to the gate. Cars went by in both directions, paying me little attention. (I must remind you again that this was the 70's, the world hadn't declined as far as it has today. Kids walked the roads all the time) I sipped my soda and made my way, ignoring the rare, but annoying honks of horns. When I saw a car stop suddenly and pull into the post office just ahead of me, I almost crossed the road. It was a trick my Dad had taught me. Make it harder for anyone that might be after you to get to you. Instincts told me not to worry.
When I got closer, I recognized the car.
And the man driving it. It was Mister Vic, Eddie and Johnny's father. He rolled his window down and called me over.
"Need a ride?"
Seeing as how he was not a stranger, I accepted. He started asking the typical questions. I gave him vague and un-informative answers. Falling quiet as we passed through the gate, he seemed to be chewing on his next comment.
I finished my soda, setting the bottle beside me on the seat (I was "green" long before it was cool). I sat silently, watching the low, flat buildings pass.
"Do you know Carl?" he asked out of the blue. "Our next-door neighbor?"
Confused, I told him, "Not really. I know who he is."
Vic nodded and drove a little further.
"You've been staying over an awful lot lately," he said.
"Yeah."
"But only when [Wendy] and I are gone."
I only shrugged at that. What was I supposed to say? That was not an easy subject.
When he turned right, toward the PX, I wondered why. Both our houses were in the other direction, and still a mile up the road. He parked the car in the rear of the parking lot and put it in park. He wasn't angry or anything, but I was confused by his attitude. There was something he wanted to say. In the deepest recesses of my mind, a notion started to grow.
Did he suspect something? Did he know about Eddie and me?
Wait, I thought. He and his wife are swingers. Who's he to judge me?
I sat up taller in the seat and waited for his next question. The one he wanted to ask, but hadn't figured out how.
After a deep breath, he finally came out with it. "Are you and Johnny... playing doctor when we're gone?"
I had to grin. Not only had we not called it "playing doctor" since ever, but it was no longer me and Johnny. I took a second to answer.
He caught the smile on my face. Dropping his head, he said, "Or is it you and Ed?"
Then I busted myself. My grin grew wide. I felt my cheeks burning.
Vic sighed. He went to speak, stopped himself, and sighed again.
Feeling a need to defend us, I told him, "We're not hurting anyone. We just-... make each other feel good."
He turned his head to me, but stayed quiet. He was letting me answer his questions without asking them. It was a tactic I didn't realize he was using until I looked back on it through the mirror of time.
Mindlessly, I went on. I confessed that it had started with Johnny and me (leaving out the other boys) and that it had moved on to Eddie. "It's not gonna last anyway. My parents are moving us off-base in three weeks."
When I finished, he nodded. I was told about the boy back at Fort [Downsouth] and how the kid had nearly gone to his parents about it. He and his wife had sat down with the boy and Johnny and talked it out. Johnny wasn't allowed to see the kid anymore and in return, the boy promised to keep quiet about it.
"Did you punish him?" I wanted to know.
"No," Vic answered honestly. "We figured that the embarrassment was enough. I guess I was wrong."
"No you weren't. He didn't start it. I did. He just went along."
"With Eddie, too?"
"Yeah."
I was lying for the most part, but not entirely. I had already been looking for it when they came along. All they had done was introduce me to new feelings and sensations. In my heart, I knew that if it hadn't been them, I would have found someone else.
"So, you like doing that with boys?"
"Yeah," I told him. Then I heard the Little Buddy answer, "But, I'd like to try it with a grown-up."
His attention whipped to me. His eyes were wide. "You're gonna get yourself hurt saying things like that."
I had been told about men that liked little boys. It was not new to me. I had also been warned, countless times, about those that only wanted to hurt them. I shook my head and informed him, "Not if I choose carefully."
"And how would you choose?"
"I guess I'd start by paying attention to the men around me. Watch for signs of interest that don't make me feel creepy. Like the way you're looking at my crotch right now."
Busted.
He looked up at me, blushing. Stammering for something to say, he turned his gaze out the front windshield.
"It's okay," I told him with a reassuring smile. "I know you like sex with a lot of different people... So do I."
I didn't know what I was trying to do. Was I trying to get him to leave Eddie and me alone for our last weekend, or was I trying to get him to play?
Either way, I was enjoying the red-faced astonishment.
He started to speak several times, but wound up sounding like an idiot. He never got more than one or two syllables out before falling silent again.
Suddenly, I wanted him to look at me the way Eddie had. I wanted to see him smile that Hey-let's-play smile.
"You do, don't you?" I asked.
Weakly, he replied, "Do what?"
"Like sex with a lot of people?"
I was getting him nervous. He was swallowing over and over, licking his dry lips, and looking around with an almost guilty expression.
After a few such false starts, he quietly said, "That's different."
"Why? Cause I'm just a kid'?"
"Well,... Yes."
"But, I already know how good it feels and I like it."
"You like it," he said, like a statement rather than a question.
"Yes. I like it. A lot."
He wouldn't look at me long. He'd glance over and turn away quickly. For some reason, it was getting exciting.
The concept of "seduction" was still unknown to me, but I had the sudden urge to convince him that he did indeed want to play with me. I had had both of his sons inside me. He was a natural next step. Now, how did I go about getting it to happen?
"Y'know," he mumbled. "There are men that'll really hurt you, if-... if you-..."
"I know," I told him with that streak of boldness that I had discovered in myself. "I just have to be careful about who I pick."
"And just how are you gonna know who's safe and who's not?"
I turned toward him in the seat. He wasn't hollering or scolding or telling me to stop or drop the subject. The Little Buddy was getting braver. I made it up as I went, but used logic both in my descriptions and in my comparisons. Somehow, it came to me swiftly. (Remember, I would read a lot. Sherlock Holmes actually made sense to me, and I had learned with several of my teachers, that it worked in reverse. Logic can be an inescapable ally in certain arguments)
"Well," I told him. "I'd start with someone I know. Someone who I already knew was really into sex. Maybe into trying new things. Then I'd see if he was looking at me just right. I'd let him know that I can keep it all a secret. And I'd let him know I wanted to."
I saw it in his face. He couldn't argue too strongly. He was struck by the simple (and probably extremely naïve) logic. And he was busted on a couple points. I had dropped the bait in the water. Now, I only had to wait and see if there was a nibble.
Vic was having trouble getting his thoughts together. It was becoming more and more exciting to me. I had him thinking about it. Did I push the issue or sit and wait? Both had downfalls. Pushing might scare him off or make him uncomfortable. Letting him think too long might allow him to come up with a good excuse. The old phrase "Strike while the iron's hot" came to mind. From what I could tell, the iron was hot.
I gave him a few seconds. Let him picture the scene. Let him see it in his mind's eye.
Quietly, almost in a whisper, I said, "I'd never tell anyone. Not even Eddie."
That got him to at least look at me. I gave him my best Do-It-To-Me grin and wriggled my butt against the vinyl seat.
He gazed at me in total amazement. "You really wanna do that, don't you?"
I nodded vigorously.
Back into his thoughts he went. I gave him a few more seconds. Did he even realize that I had followed the steps I had listed, in order? That he had even helped me do so?
His hands were shaking on the steering wheel. That was a good sign.
I was about to make another comment about how it would be adventurous and probably feel better than most other times.
I didn't have to.
"And just where," he began. "Would you do this?"
He was thinking about it. Yes! I thought quickly. "I know a place in the woods," I said, not allowing my excitement to make it sound pleading, just informative. "Back by the ranges."
"No," he said immediately. "You might still get caught. It couldn't be anywhere outside."
Oh, yes! He was absolutely thinking about it.
An idea came to me. He was already picturing it in his mind. The two of us together, naked, coupling, touching, loving, fucking. Let's let him do some of the planning, too.
"Where would you do it?"
He sighed. His hands gripped the steering wheel. When he tilted his head and looked up at the rear-view mirror, I knew I had him thinking. It was another thing I had learned from one of my Dad's books. "Eye Language" was the name of the chapter.
"Somewhere inside," he whispered. "Somewhere we wouldn't be interrupted."
Oh. My. God. I had him thinking in logical fashion. He was planning it out.
I couldn't stop myself from turning toward him even more, lifting one leg up on the seat. I found myself wishing I had worn my super-short gym shorts, but I had planned on being in the woods all day and had worn pants. No matter, I wanted him to see what he could of my body. I wanted to signal my willingness and interest.
"My office," he whispered, almost to himself. "No one's there. It's quiet and-... out of the way."
Yeah? Yeah?
Suddenly, what he was thinking about struck him. I saw the expression on his face when he turned to me, wide-eyed. But, I was too far gone to let something like good sense derail me. I sat up on my knees on the front seat, turning to him and saying, "It's close, ain't it?"
Once again, he stuttered, trying to come up with some adult logic that I was being a bad boy and that the whole matter was out of the question.
While the iron is hot. "You could show me around where you work."
He was completely floored. I gave him that smile again.
"Are you serious?" he asked in shock.
"Yeah," I answered honestly. "We'd both like it. I promise."
It took another few minutes. I kept having to tell myself, Don't speak. Don't speak. Leave it out there. Let him see it. Let him feel it. Let him picture it. Let him want it. Let him want me.
I looked down at his crotch. Even with the uniform trousers on, I could see a lump that hadn't been there before. He was getting a boner.
Yes, I thought. Keep picturing it. Feel my mouth on you. Feel yourself sinking into my ass. Feel it. Want it.
He looked out the window at the outside mirror. He looked out the front windshield. He looked at his hands, trembling on the steering wheel. And, finally, he looked over at me.
Another Come-get-me grin.
He was looking me up and down. There wasn't a shocked look on his face anymore. There was something I had begun to get used to with Curly and Joey and Tony and Charlie. It was lust.
I didn't realize then what I had done, but I whispered with a seductive plea, "Teach me."
That did it.
Holy fucking shit. That did it.
Vic licked his lips. He took one more look around the parking lot and put the car in reverse. He backed out quickly and we were on our way. We passed the road to the housing subdivisions and went on toward the center of the base. Turning into a wide lane that might have once been used by marching soldiers rather than cars, we drove into a series of two-story buildings. Once barracks, they had been remodeled for use as offices and storage facilities for the many units the base had grown to include.
He parked between two of them. There wasn't another car around. The offices had closed up for the day. Everyone had gone home.
"C'mon in," he offered.
I was out of the car in an instant, bringing my rucksack with me. This was gonna happen. This was gonna happen. Oh, my God, this was gonna happen.
We went inside and closed the door. He locked it behind him and led me down the hallway to the last office. Vic was a military psychologist (which I now think was quite ironic). His office had several rooms. There was a reception room, with a vinyl couch, a bathroom off to the side, and an inner office with a long, reclining couch of soft woven fiber. The inner office also had a window.
He closed the door to the inner office and dropped the venetian blinds, shutting out most of the daylight.
In the shadow of the dim office, I went right to the couch and sat down, folding my hands between my knees and grinning at him.
He turned to me, at last, standing there in dumbfounded silence.
Time was not our friend. I got to my feet and went to him, throwing my arms around his back. He wrapped his arms around me, leaning his face down to the top of my head, which came just to chin. When he kissed the crown of my head, I lifted my face to his.
Bingo. He kissed me lightly on the lips.
Not enough. I started kissing him with hunger, touching my tongue to his lips until he got the point. Then he kissed me. His arms tightened around me and he ran his tongue around my mouth with desire and lust.
I let my hands roam down his back until I found his butt, continuing around his hips to the web belt of his uniform trousers.
He grunted once, but kept kissing me. I fumbled with the belt for a moment, finally pulling away and telling him, "Get these off."
I was a bit surprised that he did so as quickly as he did. With his pants opened, I pulled him over to the couch, sitting down and wrestling them down to his knees.
There it was. A grown-up's pecker, half hard and pointing at me from beneath his uniform shirt. I stared at it and took it in hand. Vic lifted his shirt up to allow me a better view. It was about the same size as Lenny's, but there was a distinct difference. This wasn't a teenager's prick, it was a grown-up's.
I licked my lips first, then the head of the beautiful member.
He groaned, "Ooo."
I moaned, "Mmm." And I opened my mouth for it. Head first, lick and suck. More of the shaft, lick suck. Then I put as much as could in my mouth. Same routine, work up some saliva and suck away, stroking with one hand as I did so.
He wrestled with the shirt, unbuttoning it and ripping it off, then tore the light green tee shirt over his head.
GAWD, yes!! I was sucking an adult dick. I was licking and sucking and caressing. I slurped both the saliva and the pre-cum oozing out of the tip. I reached a hand around behind him and gripped one butt cheek as I worked on him, pulling him forward with my rhythm.
His hands were on the back of my head, holding on, but not forcing it forward. He started moving his hips in time with my sucking. We were both grunting and moaning and breathing heavily.
When his knees almost buckled, I knew what I was doing was good.
I stopped and told him to lie on the couch. I got his boots and socks and pants and briefs off before he stretched out on the wool-blend couch. Giving his pecker a quick, wet kiss, I peeled off my own clothes and quickly got on my knees.
He did as I asked. He taught me. When he asked me to fondle his balls, I fondled his balls. When he asked me to suck the hairy sack, I sucked the hairy sack. Each time, I returned to his dick, my mouth getting wetter and wetter. He dribbled more and more pre-cum. We both groaned more and more. He rubbed the back of my head. He bucked his hips. I sucked him with more and more enthusiasm.
Finally, he lifted me up on top of him, in what I now know was a sixty-nine position. I had to change the way I sucked at the helmet-shaped head with every head bob, but I didn't stop. He licked and sucked my pecker, which must have seemed tiny in comparison, but he really seemed to like it.
Then he did something I thought was strange, at first. He moved his chin, spread my butt cheeks and started licking my butthole. I thought it was too dirty for that. But, it felt too good to tell him to stop. His tongue probed me deeper and deeper every time he stuck it in. I started wriggling in joy and pleasure.
He lifted his head away and groaned, "Oh, God."
His balls tightened up. I readied myself for it, and... SPLORCH-SPLORCH-SPLORCH. As he shot his thick, salty cum into my hungry mouth I swallowed with relish, sucking at him as he exploded.
"Ooh," he groaned. "Ooh. Ooh."
He was still pumping his hips, so I kept sucking his dick. His load was massive, but I didn't lose a single drop, even working out the last few, oozing beads of juice.
"Oh, fuck," he whispered.
When he had his breath back, he started kissing my thighs and dick and balls and my butt cheeks. And then he dove back into my ass, tonguing and licking and probing.
I writhed against his face, helping him get in deeper.
Eventually, he rolled me over, got out onto the floor, and laid me on my belly, my ass up and presented to him. Back in he went, licking and probing.
I had never felt anything like it. It was wonderful.
Lifting his face, he commented, "You know what I don't have here?"
"I do," I told him quickly. "In my backpack."
He let me up long enough to fetch the little tube. "I knew we were missing one of these," he said with a grin. "And when Carl told me about the noises he'd been hearing, I knew where it went."
All I could do was grin. "Yeah, well," I answered. "We needed it."
I flopped back onto his couch, pointing my butt up in the air and wiggling it for him. Grinning over my shoulder at him, I waited for him to exorcise the last of the sense in his head and go for it.
To my surprised joy, he didn't even think it over. He popped the top open and squirted some of the slippery goop into his hand.
When the first finger penetrated me I moaned like a whore. By the time he had worked three of them in me, I was writhing and gasping and groaning in ecstasy.
His fingers came out. Another squeeze of the tube and the lid was closed. I waited in anticipation, biting my lip.
He was thicker than Charlie and Lenny, but with the lube instead of the gloppy petroleum jelly he slid in to that first bend. There was that same brief jolt of pain before he pushed past it and drove his length in. Then there was only the fullness and sheer pleasure of it.
With slow, long strokes, he started pumping his sweet, grown-up dick in and out of my twelve-year-old ass. I sighed and pushed back as he went in, relaxing as he drew out. His hands holding my waist, he slowly, steadily increased his pace and force.
Come on, I silently begged. Harder. Go on, I can take it.
But, he made me wait for that. He was taking his time. Oh, he was an old hand at this. Maybe not with a boy like me, but he knew what he was doing. He stroked all the way in, until his pelvis was right against my uplifted ass, and then slid out until the very head of his cock was almost out. And back in. Over and over, slow and gentle. Balls deep. Almost popping out.
I was in heaven. It was the most incredible thing I had ever felt. Nothing like that had been up my ass before, and he knew it.
He started going faster. I moaned and pushed back in rhythm. He moaned and chuckled, getting faster still. I moaned an appreciative hum.
I couldn't believe it was happening. I was getting fucked up my ass by a grown-up. A real, live thirty-five-year-old grown-up. He was being gentle, but insistent. He was slowly increasing speed and force. I could tell he was getting more and more into it. He grunted once and again, he pulled back on me harder and harder. The slapping of his pelvis on my butt flesh got louder and louder.
Then, he slowed and stopped. "Let's move," he whispered.
He laid me on my back on the narrow couch, my head on the incline at one end. Taking me by the back of the knees, he lifted my legs up to my chin. Oh, yeah. I knew this. I held my knees back for him as he got up on the couch himself and guided his pecker back inside. Once he had re-entered, he put his arms on each side of me, holding my legs back, and started pumping again.
Oh, here we go. This was what I liked. He got himself as deep as he could reach when he pushed in. Letting him hold my legs back for access, I slipped my arms around his neck and held on for the ride.
He was getting faster and harder again. When he leaned his head down and pumped with force and power, I moaned in his ear. I didn't know about dirty-talking or what it did to certain people, but I groaned, "Oh, yeah. Fuck my ass."
That set him off.
He shifted his legs, straddling the couch with his feet on the floor. Leaning forward, he had me trapped beneath him, only my head and shoulder blades on the sofa, which put my spread butt straight up in the air. From that position, standing over me, he was able to use gravity as an aid for his forceful thrusts. And did he ever thrust.
He pounded down into me with ferocious impact. What pain there was, in the pit of my belly, was washed away by the sheer pleasure of having my ass filled so beautifully.
I moaned again. "Oh, God. Yeah. Fuck me."
Once again, it fired him up. He started pounding harder, lifting as far as he could without slipping out and then driving his cock down and in. Harder, harder, faster, faster. WHAP-SLAP-WHAP-SLAP. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.
Oh. God. He. Was. Fuck. Ing. Me. So. Hard. His. Cock. So. Good. So. Deep. It. Was. So. Fuck. Ing. Great. Oh. Ah. Oh. Ah.
I had the most explosive orgasm I had ever experienced. It felt like it started at the soles of my feet. My entire body tingled. My head spun and spun. And Vic just kept pounding into me. WHAP-SLAP-WHAP-SLAP-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.
A growl started in his throat, becoming a series of grunts. I clung to his neck, pressing my face into his jaw as he simply pounded me like a pile driver. It felt like it went on for hours. I wanted it to.
His growl became a long groan and his whole body tensed up.
His pecker was so warm inside me, and my insides were so numb from the pummeling, that I couldn't feel his fluid being pumped into me in jerks and spasms. I could only feel the way his cock pulsed in my guts.
When it ceased, he started thrusting again. Just as hard. Just as fast. Just as deep. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM. Plunging his cock into my guts with fierce abandon.
It was amazing.
He went on for a few more minutes, as hard as before he came. Only when he had worked himself into exhaustion did he slow down and pump slower and gentler, but he still slid in and out of my burning butthole.
I started kissing his chin and neck, receiving what I wanted. He kissed me back, deep and passionate, much like his son. He fucked me a while longer, kissing me with tender loving desire.
It slowed down more and more, finally coming to a complete stop with his dick still deep inside me, growing softer.
"Holy shit," he whispered.
"Yeah," I responded. "Don't stop."
He chuckled and kissed me again. "I wish we didn't have to, but we should be getting home."
With a pouting sulk, I kissed him one more time, and nodded.
We cleaned up with some paper towels from the bathroom, got dressed, and went back to his car. I had him stop at the end of my block and hopped out. "See you this Saturday," I told him.
He cocked his head, like he was going to tell me that I shouldn't.
"It's my last weekend with Eddie," I told him. "Don't take it away from me."
With a sigh, he smiled and nodded.
I grabbed my empty soda bottle and waved, turning for home.
I could still feel him inside me when I went to bed that night. My mother may have wondered about the smile on my face, but she didn't question me about it.
I had done it. I had been fucked by a grown-up. I had convinced a grown-up to fuck me in my ass.
Now, I thought, I could move away and not be disappointed with the way things turned out.
To be continued...