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I hope you enjoy this story, which concerns the sexual awakening and development of Jody through his college years and early career in the Navy. To add realism to the story, much of the story is set in real cities, college campuses, Naval bases, and places of business. No implication that these places are accepting of homosexuality is implied. Should you visit any of them, please maintain normal caution and do not assume you will be accepted.
This story is set in the late 1960's and early 1970's, before the AIDS crisis began. Therefore, it is strictly condom-free. However, please note that neither the author nor Nifty.org is encouraging men of the 21st century to ignore the consequences of unprotected sex. Please love yourself and your future partners enough to be careful!
Thanks to all who have followed our guys all the way to the end of the story and, especially, to those who have taken the time to send me feedback about the story. I've never received "fan mail" before, so this is very exciting! Writing Jody's story was great fun for me and I hope it has been equally entertaining for you.
This story is the backstory of a character who will be included in a book to be published in the Fall, 2018, titled The Deputy Boys Book 1: The Invitation. Jody's story is entirely separate from this book, although he is a character in that book. Without further ado, please enjoy the finale of Jody, the Team, and the Navy!
Best Regards, Kenneth Kirk
Jody, the Team, and the Navy Chapter 16
When the first of my cruises with the guys was behind me, my social life became somewhat predictable. It was predictable, but never dull or routine. It reminded me a lot of the life I'd had for most of my college years when I had sex with my roommate/best friend/teammate Len two or three times a day and with our suitemates Louis and Micky a couple of times per week. Added to that were the occasions when I entertained the coach or several members of the baseball team for an afternoon or evening. My best estimate is that I gave about 15 BJs most weeks and took a load in the ass about 25 times a week. I still had my cherry when I met Len in the summer before my freshman year but had become a jaded old pro within a few months.
Now, living in our apartment in Norfolk, I took two loads from Brandon almost every single day and loved it. I'd met a couple of younger ensigns who lived there, too (Hal and Red), and usually managed to hook up with them a couple of times a week. About once a week, I ended my workout at the base gym in Miguel's office for a rub down that always included a deep ass massage (e.g. a great fuck). And Brandon took me to Darren and Alex's party house often just to be with them. Then about once a month they would host a bigger group and I would bottom for anywhere between seven and twelve hot Navy dudes. Because those parties didn't happen as frequently as the baseball games and practices and other gatherings at UNC, my weekly cock-count was a little lower at this point, averaging maybe ten BJs and 15 times on bottom. Of course, when a major party happened, I usually gave about 15 short BJs and took a lot of dick in my asshole, maybe a dozen guys but about twice as many separate fucks.
I had very little interest in topping, so only did it once or twice every few months. The later half of 1975 and most of 1976 followed this pattern. Although a lot of sex was happening, I never had to get out and look for it. Brandon was readily available and always horny with both Hal and Red easy to find in the apartment building if I wanted them. And the other guys in the group gathered frequently to meet that need for something more.
Of course, it wasn't all routine. One night at one of Darren and Alex's big parties, a couple of the guys started talking about golden showers. It seems Doug had some experience with some of his Texas cowboy buddies and the conversation became quite lively.
"We had a whole keg for about a dozen good ole boys out at a line camp," he explained. "Most of us had ridden our horses out that morning and the foreman came out in a truck later bringing supplies. It was food for 36 hours and this keg. Well, it didn't take long for us to get into that bunch of brew, let me tell you!"
"I'll bet!" said Arnie, who had some experience with ranch hands, having grown up in Dodge City, Kansas.
"Yep," Doug continued. "This was the Panhandle in July. Need I tell you it was hot as a mother-fucker and drier than the Mojave!?"
"That dry?" asked Vern with a smirk.
"Yep," Doug nodded. "We found the shady side of the line shack, shed our shirts, and broke open that keg, let me tell you! Most of the guys had downed a cold one quicker than you could say `Longhorn'." Several guys laughed at that.
By this time, all the other conversations had stopped and we'd all gathered around our token cowboy to hear this tale. I noticed Doug became very animated and his Texas speech-patterns became a lot more pronounced than usual. He had a sparkle in his clear blue eyes that told me he was enjoying center stage tonight.
"As the afternoon wore on, that ole thermometer kept creeping up until it was kissing the ass of 110-degrees. Whew! We was sucking down the brews just to try to survive Mother Nature's oven!"
Kris laughed so hard he spit some beer out and then got choked. But that didn't slow down Doug, not a bit.
"A course, beer don't stay in ya for long, `cause it's just passing through, you know?"
The heavier beer drinkers in the group laughed a lot at that. I was starting to wish we'd been filming this as it was developing into a great story-telling performance.
"I didn't hear how it really started, but somehow Scruff and Sum got a bet on..."
"Wait!" Brandon hollered. "Scruff and Sum?"
"Yep," Doug said. "That was their names."
"Why?" asked Miguel.
"Way-ell," Doug drawled, "Scruff had the ugliest red and gray beard you ever did see and it was just like scruff desert sage, so the foreman Mac called him that. It stuck."
"And Sum?" Alex asked amid the chittering sounds of the crowd.
Doug grinned. "No matter what happened, he would always say `sum bitch' so everybody just called him Sum. His real name was Seymour."
"I'd go by Sum, too," Darren laughed.
"So," I interjected, "what was their bet?"
"Who could drink the most beers without peeing," Doug said in a dead-pan voice.
Everybody cracked up. I'll admit I'd never heard such a comical story before.
Doug held up a hand to settle the crowd. When the laughter died down, the handsome cowpoke continued. "Yep. Whichever one had to pee first had to drink the other guy's piss."
"Fuck!" Scott said as he erupted in laughter.
"Oh my God!" Mike said.
"Madre de Diós!" Miguel swore.
The rest of us just laughed as a couple of guys said, "Eww!"
"How did they work the contest?" Arnie said very seriously. I wondered why that mattered to him.
"Well," Doug said, "they immediately drained their lilies, right in front of the gang. Then we carefully gave each one a full cup of beer and they chugged it. We gave `em another and they chugged it. And so on."
"Yeah?" Arnie said impatiently.
"After about four beers, they started wiggling and even dancing around to keep from peeing. After the sixth beer, I think it was, Scruff wet his pants."
Everyone guffawed.
"Then what?" Ted wanted to know.
"Well," Doug paused for effect.
"Go on!" Lawrence ordered.
Doug chuckled. "Well, Sum undid his belt buckle and pushed his jeans down to his boots. A couple of guys took Scruff over and put him on his knees in front of Sum."
The whole dozen guys were quiet as church mice, waiting to hear the rest of the story. Doug paused and looked around at all of us. When his eyes locked on Kris', the lieutenant commander barked, "Spit it out, Ensign!"
This was an obvious breech of our rule to leave all ranks out of our activities, but no one in the room minded Kris exerting some control to keep the story moving.
Doug was surprised by this unexpected order from a senior officer. He straightened up and nodded, "Yes, Sir! Uhm, while the other cowpokes held Scruff in front of Sum, they pulled his head back by his ugly hair and held his nose so his mouth came open. Sum pushed his boxers down, stepped forward so his cockhead was only about an inch from the open mouth, pointed it right at Scruff's tonsils, and let `er rip!"
We all hooted with laughter.
"Damn!" Miguel said with a head-shake.
"Gross!" I mumbled.
"Wow!" Ted observed.
"I ain't nev-uh seen such a massive stream of piss as ole Sum shot into Scruff that day."
"Fuck!" Arnie said as a new round of laughter erupted.
"That piss shot out like water outa a fire hose, shit!" Doug slapped his thigh and almost doubled over in laughter.
Jeff yelped and cried out, "God damn, I wish I'd seen that!"
"Amen!" added Scott.
When he caught his breath, Doug said, "Scruff closed his eyes real tight and in about a second his mouth filled up and the piss started running out the sides."
I was laughing so hard, tears ran down my cheeks.
"Jake pointed at Scruff and yelled out, `he ain't drinkin'!'"
Lawrence said, "Hell, no!"
Doug laughed so hard he couldn't continue. Everyone was laughing but also waiting for the next hysterical detail.
"Then what?" prompted Alex.
Doug took a deep breath. "Mac stepped up and told Sum to stop. With some effort, he did. Mac ordered Scruff to swallow. Scruff glared at him, but he did."
"Why would he?" Miguel asked.
"Wasn't Mac his C.O.?" Darren said.
"Yep," Doug nodded. "Scruff kinda coughed a bit and then opened his mouth voluntarily."
"Oh my God!" Ted exclaimed.
"He did! So, Sum opened his flood gates again. After that, poor Scruff must've swallowed four or five mouthsful of Sum's piss before his gusher finally petered out."
"Fuck!" Arnie exclaimed.
We all quietened down pretty quickly. I was wondering what it would be like to drink piss and I think some of the other guys were, too.
"Is that it?" Vern asked.
Doug shook his head, which, of course, drew everyone's attention once again.
"Tell us!" Kris ordered again.
"Yes, Sir! Uhm, when it was all done, Scruff claimed the piss just tasted like beer and challenged all us `chicken-shit tenderfeet,' as he called us, to give it a try." He paused and looked at us.
There was a moment of silence as everyone held his breath, waiting for the next line.
"Did you?" Ted asked impatiently.
"It was a while before anybody did, but finally Mac said, `I got a big load a piss for one of you no-good assholes. Who wants it?'"
"You?" accused Vern.
Doug shook his head. "Naw, it was little Grant, the rancher's nephew."
"Obviously a fag," noted Arnie.
"How little?" Jeff wanted to know.
"He was right outa high school, same as me, eighteen, I reckon, but short and small, you know?"
"Jeez," Darren muttered.
"Well," Doug continued enthusiastically, "he jumps down in front of the foreman and opens his mouth. Fuck! What a sight! I think Mac was nervous about peeing in the boss' nephew's mouth. You know, a thing like that might not go over too good if word ever got back to the main house."
"Did he?" Alex asked.
"First, he says to Grant, Are you sure?' Grant nods and Mac says, This don't get back to your uncle!' Grant nods and says, `I promise. Just give it to me!' Well, that kinda surprised Mac and he stared at the kid for another minute. Then all of a sudden, he opens his 501's and hauls out his big gun, aims it, and fires!"
"Damn!" exclaimed Ted.
"Then the kid did the damnedest thing!"
"What?" demanded Kris, Scott, and Lawrence simultaneously.
"He's swallowing as fast as he can and he leans up and puts Mac's cock into his mouth!"
"Shit!" said Brandon.
"He did not!" cried Arnie.
"He did! In front of God and ever-body," Doug emphasized. "By the time Grant let it out of his mouth, it was a couple a inches longer than when he first took it in. The kid had a big smile on his face. Mac looked shocked, but excited. He shoved that big mother-fucker back into his jeans as quick-like as he could and turned away as he fastened his buttons."
"I knew the kid had to be a fag!" Arnie said. I was almost offended by the tone of his voice.
No one was laughing now, seemingly lost in private thoughts. But Doug wasn't yielding center stage yet. "From then on, for the rest of the night, no one peed except in someone else's throat."
"Fuck!" exclaimed Ted.
"So, you did, too?" Vern asked.
Doug grinned sheepishly. "Yep. First six times I ever had a dick in my mouth," he said quietly.
"Holy shit!" Lawrence said.
"Yeah. That kid Grant spent the rest of the summer on his knees in front of one or the other of us. He gave good head, too, for a beginner. None of the cowpokes ever mistreated him."
"They liked his blow jobs too much!" Darren observed.
Everybody laughed and agreed.
"Yep," Doug said. "He worked on the ranch for a couple of years and got real close to Mac, I heard."
"What became of him?" I enquired.
"I heard he moved to Los Angeles and became a surfer, but I never verified that."
"So, Doug," Ted said, "how does piss taste?"
"Like watery beer, but with a special tang, I guess. Hell, I'd drink some more if one of you guys is willing to drink some of mine, too."
"Sure," Ted blurted out, then went crimson with embarrassment.
A general hush fell on the group as we all took note of the big shift from talking about something wild to planning to do it. Several of the guys looked at each other and I swear I saw several familiar cocks twitch and plump up a bit. That made my mind go from the "somewhat gross" perspective to the "hmm, this might be hot" thought. I guess my body followed my mind as I felt my cock twitch and throb at the thought.
After a few moments, Alex said, "If you guys are serious about this, why don't we grab another beer and move into the shower room?"
"Anyone who wants to," Darren amended.
Several guys drank the last sip of their beers and turned back to the bar for another. Slowly everyone got a fresh brew and meandered into the showers. The shower room was designed to hold about six at a time so it was rather crowded when all twelve or thirteen of us had congregated in the tiled space.
"How do we do this?" Ted asked Doug. The rest of us just stood around expectantly.
"You want to give or receive first?"
"Um," Ted thought for a moment, "receive."
"Okay. Just kneel on the floor and open up," Doug said gently. "I'll do the rest."
When Ted was on his knees a foot in front of Doug, the Texan stepped forward until the end of his slightly-swollen cock was about an inch from Ted's front teeth. Doug grasped his appendage as everyone held his breath. Ted reminded me of a puppy dog as he looked up at Doug, showing a bit of intimidation mixed with excitement. I noticed his Jewish dick was at full rigidity as he waited.
"You might want to close your eyes, Ted," Doug suggested.
"Oh!" he responded and then his eyelids dropped over his dark eyes.
"Here it comes!" Doug warned Ted and we all watched breathless as a stream of clear liquid arced out of his piss slit right into the back of Ted's mouth. It seemed that Doug was controlling the flow so it wasn't too much of a blast but, nevertheless, Ted's mouth was full in about two seconds. "Swallow or spit, Ted," Doug suggested.
There was a second of hesitation and then Ted swallowed. A collective gasp circled the crowd as we watched the working of Ted's Adam's apple. Quickly, Ted had to swallow again and then again. I think he swallowed five times before he managed all Doug's volume. When Doug's flow dribbled off, he dropped down in front of Ted and planted a quick kiss on the drippy lips just as Ted opened his eyes. Doug helped Ted stand up as spontaneous applause broke out.
"How was it, Ted?" Jeff asked.
For a moment Ted thought about his experience. "Like warm beer half-strength."
"You did really good," Doug smiled at him. "Ready to feed me?"
Ted looked startled. I supposed he'd been so caught up in the act of drinking piss that he'd forgotten the other part of the deal. "Uh, sure," he muttered.
Doug dropped to the tile floor and opened his mouth. When Ted stepped towards him, Doug took the head of the partially deflated cock between his lips. Holding the cock there, he nodded up at Ted and winked. Ted had some difficulty starting his flow, but eventually we could tell as Doug began to swallow as quickly as he could. Ted groaned as he unloaded into Doug's mouth, holding onto Doug's shoulders to support himself.
When they were done, Doug stood, looked around at the group and smacked his lips. Everyone laughed, releasing some type of tension from observing this unusual connection.
"Drink up!" Doug said. "I think most of you are secretly curious about it. Now's your perfect opportunity to see how it is."
"Ted?" Brandon asked. "Are you glad you did it?"
"Yeah. I am," Ted answered quietly, then, with more conviction, he said, "Absolutely! I'd do it again."
That seemed to encourage everyone. Within seconds, both Arnie and Lawrence dropped to their knees and opened their mouths. "Fill it up!" Arnie said.
Vern stepped up to Arnie while Jeff approached Lawrence. Vern shoved his dick into Arnie's mouth and let `er rip. Arnie tried to swallow but was much too slow to capture the full flow, so a lot of urine ran down his cheeks and throat and onto the floor beneath him. Jeff did not put his dick into Lawrence's mouth, but the redhead grabbed Jeff's ass and pulled him forward, taking the dick just before Jeff started peeing.
Miguel tapped my shoulder. When I looked at him, he said, "How `bout it, babe?" He waved a semi-erect pecker at me. I thought, Doug is right; there will never be a better chance to try this. I nodded and Miguel's beautiful brown lips parted into a big smile. He pulled me around until we were facing, then pushed me down to my knees. Always before, when a guy pushed me down to my knees before him, I knew he was expecting a blow job and I always gave him what he wanted. This time, it was clear Miguel didn't want a blow job. I opened my mouth, winked at him, and then closed my eyes. In a second, I felt the smoothness of Miguel's pinga tap against my bottom lip and, before I could even react, my mouth was flooded with hot liquid that tasted just like beer that had been watered down a lot. In addition to the beer flavor, there was just a hint of spice, a pungent flavor that was unique but not unpleasant. Like Arnie and Lawrence before me, I started swallowing continuously because my mouth would refill in the time it took to swallow the previous mouthful. Just when I was getting fatigued from trying to swallow so quickly, the flow into my mouth ceased. I swallowed once more and licked the cockhead that was barely inserted into my mouth. Miguel's fingers interlocked behind my head and he held me still. Slowly his cock pushed further into my mouth until it was all the way inside. I could feel it stiffening, the end working its way past my uvula and into my throat. He moaned and began fucking my face.
Meanwhile several other guys took a bladder-load into their mouths, causing a lot of moaning, noisy swallowing, and slurping. After I took Miguel's other load into my stomach, I fed my piss to a begging Brandon, which surprised me. This frantic indiscriminate coupling continued for about twenty minutes until every bladder in the room had been emptied into a friend's stomach.
We kept drinking for the next couple of hours, recycling the beer-piss while continually adding new beer to the volume. After a while, most of us were drinking so much beer and beer-piss that we were voiding our bladders every fifteen minutes or so. Every once in a while, someone would also get a BJ. Once I took a load of piss from Brandon, then moved right into a blow job. When he came, I continued licking his prick and he surprised me by peeing down my throat again. I was really surprised when he got hard in my mouth once more. After his second BJ, I forcibly pushed him off me because my bladder was screaming for attention.
Brandon pulled me to my feet, smiled into my eyes, and said, "That was awesome, babe!" Then he kissed me passionately before dropping to his knees and taking my cock into his mouth. I peed and peed and peed until there was no more I could give.
I lost track of who pissed in whose mouth but did note that everyone seemed really into the whole strange scene. When we finally tired of this activity, the showerheads were turned on and everyone bathed everyone else until we were all sparkly clean and the piss-spillage had been washed into the drains.
It took several pisses from each guy to clear out the accumulation of piss and beer we were all carrying that evening. When I thought about it later, I couldn't really see a lot of difference in taking a guy's semen or his piss (especially when he's been drinking a lot over a short time). This was also the only time I recall attending one of the group functions and not being fucked at all.
We never approached this level of dedication to pissing in each other's mouths again, but, after that, golden showers became a common occurrence in our parties and cruises.
I got a 10-day pass at the end of the summer and visited my parents in Charlotte. I tried to find Len, but his mother told me he had moved to Phoenix for a branch manager position with First National Bank of Arizona. I was disappointed, but unsure what I had hoped for anyway. I spent a couple of nights with Grandma Ida, Aunt Harriet, and my cousin Gary, who was growing into a very handsome 16-year-old. He begged me to teach him about intercourse, but I felt he was a little too young, so we just spent the time sucking each other as much as possible. We also shared some of this time with Gary's beautiful Argentinian friend Carlos, who had a nice cock on him for a teen-ager. On my way back to Norfolk, I spent a busy night in Chapel Hill with Coach Stan, who was still as horny as ever, much to my delight.
Fred (CDR Garrison) and Sam (LTCDR Parsons) were assigned to aircraft carriers, so they were at sea about half the time for months at a stretch. Arnie transferred to Corpus Christi that fall and the following spring we lost Earl, who was sent to the Philippines. Although Brandon's ex-roommate Blade had gotten married in June, he occasionally joined us for a party and usually spent a lot of the time bottoming for his old friends. I had known him to be much more interested in topping from before, so I assumed he was getting enough of that type of action at home to be seeking something a little more exotic when he had the opportunity to be with the guys.
In October, a beautiful young ensign named Mike Malouf reported to Norfolk. Brandon told me about him the night after he processed in through Personnel. He was attached to Base Engineering, so we soon heard about him from Thomas, who was a branch supervisor in a different branch from Mike's. Doug, who also worked in engineering, was the one who finally determined Mike might be a suitable candidate for membership in our group. Doug and Mike were both Texans and this gave Doug a good "in" to connect with Mike. Apparently, Doug got Mike drunk one night and they traded blow jobs in Doug's BOQ room. The next day when Mike seemed weirded out, Doug took him out for a run and took the opportunity to explain that a lot of guys would help each other out since women were on short supply in our world. Of course, Doug told Thomas, so when Thomas saw that Mike had stayed late one evening, he invited the ensign into his office where they "helped" each other out. Though he was nervous about the mano-a-mano sex, both Doug and Thomas knew Mike had liked his encounter with them. When the holidays rolled around, they told Mike about the group and invited him to the New Year's Eve party at Darren and Alex's place.
I finally met the luscious Mike then. Where Doug was tall (six feet), blue-eyed, slender with light brown hair, Mike was an inch shorter but built with more curves than Doug's angularity. Mike had smooth brown skin, dark eyes, and dark hair with full lips and a very handsome face. Though he'd grown up in Houston and was educated at College Station, both his mother and his father were Lebanese, giving him a swarthy beauty I found very attractive. He was a nice guy, too, and I enjoyed talking with him about college, family, Navy, and stuff. I was very happy when I learned Mike was hung a bit over seven and a half inches and was on the thick side. He also fucked like a West Texas pumpjack: very regular strokes that went all the way to the hilt every time. I loved it! He didn't bring in an oil well, but he did produce a gusher!
In 1976, I got my promotion to LTJG, which provided a nice salary increase and gained me some respect, but otherwise didn't change my life much. Of course, it was an excuse for my friends to throw a party in which I spent two hours on Darren and Alex's sling with a line of a dozen of my favorite studs taking turns on my mouth and ass until, eventually, I had collected loads from everyone. When we got home, Brandon ran a hot bath for me and took special care of me until I fell asleep.
Brandon's 27th birthday was November 14, which was a Sunday, so the gang gave him a party the previous night in the party room at Darren and Alex's. In recognition of his legendary topping skills, everyone who would bottom gave the lucky Brandon full access. In the course of the evening, he topped Mike, Doug, Alex, Scott, Blade, Ted, Jeff, Thomas, Lawrence, Miguel, and even Darren. Later Brandon told me he had never been allowed to fuck Darren and that's the one that meant the most to him. Of course, he fucked me, too!
On Sunday, he spent the day with me and I felt quite honored. We had brunch at one, thanks to our very late night and need for extra sleep that morning. After brunch we took a long walk along the beach, had a brew at a beachfront bar, and brought Chinese take-out home for dinner. That night, he took me to his bed, where we cuddled quietly listening to an old Elvis album.
Suddenly, he interrupted the silence by pulling my face around to face him. Looking at me deeply, he said in a low voice, "You know, Jody, I've never been as close to another person as I am to you."
I smiled at him. "I'm honored, Brandon."
"I, uh," he seemed uncharacteristically shy. "I love you a lot, dude."
His awkwardness in saying it somehow made his declaration more meaningful. I caressed his cheek. "Thanks for saying that, babe. I know you love me and I hope you know I love you a lot, too."
"I know that well," he smiled. "Sometimes I wish I was really queer, babe, because I can't imagine being any happier with another person than I am with you right now." He kissed me lightly on the nose. "I wish it could stay just like this forever."
I smiled again. "I'd like that, too, stud." I paused and looked deeply into his eyes. "But we both know that's not possible. Even if you were queer, too, at some point one of us will be transferred to another post and we'll probably never be together again."
He nodded and I could see his eyes were tearing up.
"So, we have to make the absolute most of every moment we have together now, because this time is short-lived."
His face was sad as a tear ran down his cheek. "You're right," he said slowly and added, "of course." Two more tears traveled down his face. "But it sucks!"
I pressed my lips against his ample mouth, but just for a moment. I backed away and shook my head. "No, baby, don't feel sad about it. Feel glad that we have this very special time to share. Think how easily we could have missed it completely. I think it's a wonderful gift life, or God, or fate, or whatever, has given us, and I'm very happy to enjoy sharing some of my life with you, for however long it lasts. I know I will love you as long as I draw a breath, but we will both go and be with others one day. That's just how it's meant to be."
He nodded and kissed me, the salt from his tears flavoring the kiss in a new way. After a few minutes, our passion and our mutual need overcame this moment of angst and soon we were making spectacular love, his huge hard cock rubbing my prostate while our tongues dueled until, at last, my body writhed, I screamed out, and my juice blasted onto us both. As so frequently happened for us, my body's orgasmic convulsions forced his body to give up its bounty to my deep center.
We never spoke of that conversation again, even when the inevitable transfer came.
Ten days after that amazing conversation with Brandon, Thanksgiving provided me the chance to visit Mom and Dad again. I took Mom to see her mother and sister (Grandma Ida and Aunt Harriet), while I hung out with my cousin Gary, who had just turned 18 and could officially be called "hot, hot, hot!" We had a very loving time during this short holiday. He offered me his cherry and, this time, I took it with excitement and joy. The story of our sexy holiday is a wonderful story, which is told in erotic detail in The Deputy Boys, Book 1, so I will not repeat it here. Gary also visited me between Christmas and New Year's and was embraced happily by the Naval officer gang. I couldn't believe what a natural insatiable bottom my little cousin had become in just a month! You can read about this in The Deputy Boys, too.
Finally, in early September, 1977, I got orders to report to the Naval Support Activities Base in Naples, Italy, home of the Sixth Fleet and the US Naval Operations Europe, where I was to be stationed in their Budget Office. I was quite excited about the location of my overseas assignment, but still not glad to be leaving the States, my buddies in the group, and most of all Brandon. I was to have a 30-day pass beginning September 15, at the conclusion of which I would be on a transport heading across the Atlantic to my new life.
I turned 26 on Friday, September 10, so my friends threw a special party for me on Saturday. The party was a combination birthday party and going-away party that was very touching. I'd known that those guys loved me like a brother or son or something, but that realization became very strong as they made love to me that night, one after another. I saw a lot of watery eyes, received a bunch of sweet, gentle, almost clingy hugs, and was kissed more than I could ever remember. These mostly straight guys showed me that love does not have to be channeled into labels like hetero and homo. I could not have felt more loved anywhere in the world.
I cried quietly all the way home from Darren and Alex's that night. Brandon and I went back on Tuesday night for a final dinner with this very special couple, who had been so important to me in my nearly three years in Norfolk. Two days later I got into my Mustang and drove south to Chapel Hill for a night with Stan (Coach Jordan) before I went on to Charlotte to spend some time with Mom and Dad before I left the country.
Though Gary was now enrolled at the University of North Carolina in Asheville and was extremely busy with classes and pledging The Deputy Boys, we did manage to carve out about 24 hours to spend alone together and another 12 to share with his special friend Phil. I could not have gone so far away from Gary without this time. Again, I'll let the details of this story be told in The Deputy Boys.
For his tender age, not quite 19, Gary was surprisingly mature about our good-bye. He cried as we held each other just before I had to get into the Mustang and drive away, but, then, so did I! We'd always had a very special bond that was part familial, part romantic, which was never more obvious than in our final moments together. I was very glad he had Phil, his old friend Carlos, and several other very close friends to lean on at this time. Knowing he had such a strong social support network gave me confidence that he would land on his feet, even though I knew it would be very difficult for both of us to be separated by so much distance for a year or more.
I was back at Norfolk for a few days before I had to board the ship and I managed to find the time for a final "workout" with Miguel at the base gym and for dinner and "dessert" with Darren and Alex. Each good-bye seemed more difficult than the one before. Of course, the most difficult good-bye was with Brandon, who occupied the closest spot in my life. He was the one I shared with the most, the one in whose arms I often slept, the one whose cock was most at home buried in my intestines, the one I loved the most.
We didn't sleep much that final night. There weren't a lot of words left unsaid, but we both seemed to want to stay awake to milk every second of skin-to-skin contact from those few hours. I did not want to make it a downer, so I struggled not to be sad or maudlin and certainly did not want to cry. I did very well until the dawn began to break through the curtains in Brandon's room. That told me the moment was almost upon us when we would have to take our bodies away from each other. I didn't know why, but I felt strongly that we would never be together again.
As I sailed out of the harbor that afternoon, I stood at the rail watching the port, then Norfolk, and then Virginia recede until there was nothing but flat ocean behind us. I wondered how Italy would be, trying to salve my pain with a fresh dose of excitement. I wondered if I would be back in Norfolk again or be transferred to another distant base after my time in Italy ended. I wondered how soon I would be safe to let my secret desires surface. Would I ever see any of the guys again? What would happen to Mom and Dad before I saw them next? Would Gary be able to visit Italy? What did the future hold?
I spent a lot of time alone in the three weeks it took for me to reach Naples. Perhaps this lengthy journey helped me recognize that everything that had gone before had made me who I was that day, had set the stage for all that was to come my way, and that whatever happened to me, I would carry inside me the love and support and good wishes of Mom, Dad, Grandma Ida, Aunt Harriet, beautiful Gary, Coach Stan, Len, Micky, Louis, the other ball players, Darren, Alex, Scott, Vern, Kris, Ted, Sam, Fred, Mike, Miguel, Hal, Red, and the other Navy men. And my dear Brandon.
After a few days sailing east, I began to find myself spending more time at the bow instead of the stern, looking ahead, watching for the first glimpse of Europe, watching for the future, looking for whatever life had in store for me.