Marching Band Cadet Chapter 33

Marching Band Cadet-- Chapter 33

This is a series about high school males in the late 1970s. They had a secret club in which they engaged in gay sex and BDSM rituals. This series is told from the point of view of a club member who served as their submissive. The initial chapters establish the background and characters. As the story progresses, in later chapters there will be hardcore sex, group sex, S&M, and some raunch and taboo activities. The series is set in the years before HIV, so condoms are not used.

This is fiction. If you object to fiction that includes the activities listed above, then you should read no further and exit from this page.

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Previously: Sam has completed three of his five one-on-one appointments, and the latest one with Mark was a doozie. Jim, the marching band's rising music star, is scheduled next.

Mark and I said goodbye, and I opened the door. I looked at the clock. I had about three minutes until Jim was due. I went back in the bathroom to check myself in the mirror. I didn't have time to brush my teeth, but I rinsed my mouth with water. Unless Jim had changed, he was a big kisser.

There was a knock at the door, and when I came out of the bathroom, Jim was standing in the doorway. He was wearing only a pair of cutoffs and his massive grin. It was clear to me that he'd had braces because his wide smile revealed perfect teeth. He came in, closed the door, and dropped his shorts. He was not wearing any underwear, which was alluring.

Without a word, he stepped toward me, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me. And kissed me some more. In those days, we used the expression "make out" to describe a session of kissing, necking, and maybe fondling. There was another expression "suck face." Jim definitely liked to suck face!

He let go for a second and suggested that we get onto the bed. He had me lie on my back, and he laid down on top of me, kissing me and nuzzling me. His weight pressed me back into the mattress, and it felt good. In this position, my arms were free, and I was able to run my hands up and down the muscles of his back. When I got my hands down to his butt cheeks, I squeezed them. He gave a nice moan of pleasure. That was good to know. If he liked having his butt touched and played with, I would be happy to accommodate.

There were now eight Hot Shots, including me and Matt, the two new cadets. Four of them had slender bodies: JT, Wayne, Jeff, and Matt. Three of us were somewhat bulgy and brawny: Dewey, Mark, and myself (although I was smaller than the other two). Jeff was in the middle—well proportioned. His ass was big enough that you could enjoy gripping it and squeezing it, but it was not so big that it announced itself like Mark's ass did.

Jim slid off of me, and laid on his side, still enthusiastically kissing me on the mouth. He propped himself up on one elbow and used his free hand to fondle me. He stroked my cock, groped my balls, ran his fingers across my chest, and gently pinched my nipples. I moaned into his mouth as he did these things, squirming and writhing in response to his hand.

"You like being groped," he said. He rolled onto his back. "So do I."

So we reversed roles. I laid on my side, and continued to make out with him, using my free hand to touch him in the same places: cock, balls, nipples, torso. Like me, Jeff moaned and writhed. His body moved toward my touch, anticipating it. He was extremely responsive. I felt great pleasure and satisfaction in his reactions. His body had its physical beauty, but his beauty was more than visual. He was so uninhibited, so natural, so free, so alive. I was entranced.

I released my kiss and spoke to him. I told him that this would be a good time to sample his armpit with my nose and my mouth. He was willing, so he positioned his forearm behind his head, signaling that I could dive in. As I did so, he moaned again. His pit odor was not very strong, and it resembled something more like cheese. The armpit had only a little bit of hair, less than any of the others. I tasted it, and the taste was cheesy like the odor, only more salty.

I took some time to kiss his chest, shoulders, and biceps. In case any of the armpit taste lingered, I didn't want to return immediately to his mouth. He might not appreciate the taste of his own armpit!

But before I could return to his mouth, he pushed my head gently downward. Just like the time when I slept with him a month ago, he was nudging me toward his cock. I followed his nonverbal instruction, but I took my time getting there. The Hot Shots all had soft, young skin. We were young; JT was the oldest at age 17. Jim's skin was lovely, warm, and ever so slightly moist with perspiration. But it was his muscles that were so alluring. Not big, but not small. Not fat, but not lean. It was the proportions. The whole package came together as the perfect anatomy of a young male.

His cock was hard and oozing when I reached it. Not too big, not too small, just perfectly matched with the rest of him. He laid mostly still, moaning and purring while I went to work on his cock, bobbing my head up and down. It didn't take long. He let out a fairly loud yelp when his load splurted into my mouth. A good three or four pulses. I tended to his cock a little longer to make sure I got every drop and there would be no dribbling.

"You didn't arrive wearing underwear, Sir," I pointed out. "So allow me to make sure you don't dribble anything into your cutoffs." I mischievously took another little suck from his dick, which was now in its post-orgasm hypersensitive state. My Master had taught me well about how intense that could be!

Jim and I were only halfway through our thirty minute appointment. He would probably be content to make out for the rest of the time, but I was curious.

"Sir, may I ask you a personal question?"

Jim grinned and said, "Of course. Anything. Shoot!" I propped myself next to him while he continued to lay on his back.

"Do you have a lot of experience with girls, Sir?"

"Not really, Sam. Why, are you looking for some dating tips?" He grinned.

"No, Sir. Girls are not my thing. I'm gay. I think you know that. You said that a gay cadet would have an easier time than a guy who isn't gay. Well, I'm gay, and I'm having a good time."

Jim nodded, then took a moment before he responded. "So you're wondering if I'm gay."

"Yes, Sir. I am. Well, not exactly. I'm just trying to understand what makes you tick. I'm curious. But it's not just my curiosity. I am obligated to do my best to please you. And the more I know about you, the better I can do."

Another minute of silence passed while Jim thought about it. "There's no simple answer, Sam. I'm not gay, not like you anyway. I like girls, and I think about them a lot. But they take a lot of time, from what I know. A lot of girls might not have sex with you until you marry them.

"What you and I did just now," he continued, "what we are doing right now, is great. You make my body feel sensational. You make me feel handsome and sexy. And you have a fantastic body, Sam. I like touching you. I like tasting you. I need this. And it may be years before I get this kind of thing from a woman."

I was rubbing my hand across his torso while he talked. It was hard for me to imagine how a girl could keep her hands off of Jim.

Then Jim said, "Ask me again at the end of the fall semester. First, I want you to see how busy I am with my music and with the band. I'm running for band president. You'll be learning about this now that you're one of us. I don't have time for girls. I don't have a car. I don't have money.

"To be honest, Sam, I think that's where the cadets came from in the first place. I think the Hot Shots have always made music and the band their top priority. You have to, in order to join the club in the first place. There's no time for girls, and let's face it, high school girls are interested in jocks. Jocks and rich guys. So I think the cadets came into being in order to provide the Hot Shots with what they can't get from the girls: physical pleasure, attention, and love.

Jim went on. "It would take me a year of dating a girl to get the same satisfaction you're giving me in thirty minutes. It's just the way the world is."

I figured Jim was probably right. And if he was right, then that was the true mission for me as a cadet: to provide him and the other upperclassmen with physical pleasure, attention, and love. It made sense.

"Well, Sir," I said finally, "if this half hour provided you with a year's worth of pleasure, then I think I'm going to give you two hundred years of pleasure this semester. At least that's what I want to do. I hope you'll let me."

Jim grinned big. I'm sure the brightness of his grin could be seen from outer space.

"I'll let you, boy. I'll let you."

Jim has a very big year ahead, and Sam has pledged to give Jim what he needs. Now the thirty minutes with Jim is finished, and Sam has one more guy to take care of tonight.

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