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This story, like the other I've submitted to Nifty, is true, though names have been changed and identifying details omitted. If you have any questions or wish to give me feedback, please feel free to send an email to garogora@aol.com.
My life actually became pretty stable over the next few months. No big changes to speak of. I saved money for a car, I fucked Cash three to five times a week, and I still found the time - and the desire - to seek out sex with other men.
A few of those men became my "regulars". I didn't count Cash among this number; he was more like a toy than anything else. Nor did I count Danny, with whom my dalliances became increasingly irregular.
The first regular was the other man who had responded to my post when Cash did. He was very secretive, disinclined to give me any indication of who he was or what he looked like beyond a barebones description: tall, white, hung.
I was intrigued, though. He was a Marine, and the chances of him being unattractive were no worse than with civilians, though he was significantly more likely to be in great shape.
When he arrived at my barracks room during my lunch break that day, I could tell there was something urgent behind that secretive behavior. His anxiety was far beyond the normal "I've never had a dude suck my cock" skittishness I normally got from straight Marines.
He was tall, and white, and hung, as he had promised. He showed up to my door in boots and utes, and the first thing I noticed about him was that he wasn't just in shape, he put me to shame. His biceps were huge. As he walked in past me, I could make out the lines of the muscles in his back through his olive drab skivvy shirt. The second thing I noticed was that he, like Noah, was a ginger. His high and tight was so high and so tight, the word that crossed my mind was "moto", a term that usually describes the gung-ho attitude of Marines who have only recently joined, shortened from "motivation". For other reasons I was about to gather, he was obviously not a new join, which further enhanced my idea of why he was so guarded.
The third thing that caught my eye was his belt. In combat utilities, Marines wear a colored belt based on their progression through the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program. (Imagine MMA, if the goal was to fight dirty and kill the other guy.) His belt was black with a red tab. I had only seen a Black MCMAP belt with a red tab on charts. They were the guys who taught the MCMAP instructors. It occurred to me that, even among Marines, he could probably kill me with minimal effort. That did not make me less turned on.
The fourth important detail was that, in addition to having taken off his blouse before coming in (which meant no rank insignia, nor the name tapes on his chest) he had removed the name tape from his trousers. He seriously did not want me knowing his name.
The last major detail I noticed was that he was covered in tattoos. At the time, the tattoo policy of the Corps held that if a tattoo would be exposed when the Marine wore PT gear - a skivvy shirt and shorts so short some of the guys I knew had to wear compression shorts under them so their dicks didn't flop out - then the tattoos had to be small enough to individually cover with a hand. This dude could only cover his individual tattoos with sweats. That told me, in addition to the belt, that he had been in the service for years - long enough to have been around before the tattoo policy had changed, and long enough to become a blackbelt instructor trainer.
He pulled his shirt off while my gaze shifted from his arms, to his belt, back to his arms. "Well?" he asked, undoing his belt.
I rushed over and got to my knees. He was totally soft, but definitely a show-er, not a grower. It hung heavy when I pulled his trousers down to reveal he wasn't wearing underwear. He was completely shaven, something I had only seen before on Terry. His dick was bigger than Terry's. He was easily equal to Rick in girth, and possibly longer.
He looked on impassively as I swallowed his soft cock to the hilt, holding it there while he stiffened up. I pulled off, exposing his saliva-slicked shaft to the cool air of my barracks room, then dove back down on it again. He looked appropriately surprised when my lips reached the faintly stubbly surface of his pubis.
I gagged, almost retched. He was definitely bigger than Rick. I hadn't involuntarily gagged on a dick since I was twelve years old. He wasn't even fully hard yet. It was my turn to look surprised.
I was able to deepthroat him without gagging after about thirty minutes. He was starting to get anxious again, checking his watch occasionally. When I pulled off for air, I said, "I don't have to be back to work until thirteen hundred... sir."
He didn't seem to notice the honorific. That confirmed one of my suspicions: he was an officer. An enlisted Marine would have cringed at being called "sir". The tattoos, though, were not officer standard.
He just nodded and said, "Wish I could keep this up that long. You got me right at the edge." I went back to my work. He screwed his eyes shut as if focusing on holding back. "You swallow?"
It's hard to talk with a mouthful of cock, especially when the dick in question is upwards of nine inches and thick enough to split the cardboard roll at the center of a toilet paper roll, but somehow he understood the enthusiastic "Yes, sir!" I tried to utter without letting him out of my mouth again.
With no more warning than that, he stopped holding back.
Unlike my first time with Rick, none of his juice escaped. I swallowed on instinct until I was sure I could hold the remainder in my mouth. When that proved untrue, I swallowed again, then moments later, a third time. I could keep more cum in my mouth if I let him slip further out, but fuck, I did not want him to ever leave my mouth if I could have that.
He started to soften, but he seemed perfectly content to let me continue sucking, licking, and kissing him until his cock was totally soft, shiny, and red. His balls, which had hung heavily away from his body prior to the blowjob, were now clinging closer to his body after having been exposed to my thoroughly air-conditioned room. Even when I had to take my mouth off him, only him shoving his massive cock unceremoniously into his trousers made me take my eyes off him. I looked up to his blue eyes. He looked satisfied, but bemused.
"You a top or bottom?" he asked.
I answered, "Top," with a little squeak. There was no way his massive meat was going into my ass. He'd fuck me in half.
He grabbed the front of my trousers, where I had a noticeable bulge. "Show me. I can't stay to take care of it, though," he said, sounding suddenly embarrassed.
I did as he asked. He felt my balls, ran his fingers through my pubes, squeezed from base to tip, then back to the base, smearing my own precum all over me. "Cool, won't even need lube," he muttered. I blinked at that. He let go, licking the precum off his hand before tucking his shirt tightly into his trousers. "Friday at lunch sound good?" he asked.
I confirmed that it did before watching the Marine leave. I immediately jerked off, then licked my hands clean of the evidence of that activity before piecing his secret together: he was prior enlisted, which is why he got so many tattoos when officers were discouraged from getting them. Then he had earned a commission and gone officer. I watched from my window as he walked out into the parking lot and lowered himself into a gorgeous red convertible BMW. I was reasonably certain it wasn't something an enlisted Marine could easily afford.
The other regular was initially a bit less impressive to behold, though he turned out to be packing even more than Prior Enlisted.
The only identifier I had for him was that his name was Daniel, which reminded me of Danny, who I was still seeing on occasion. Daniel sent me few face and body pics. He was clearly a big guy, but he was also clearly not the type to get his workouts at the gym. I had no doubt he was strong, but he carried more than just muscle around. He worked a night shift as air crew with one of the squadrons, which explained why he looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in months. The night crews not only worked at night, but they were expected to be awake and present for any formations or other unit events, even though those normally occurred during the time they should have been asleep.
I wasn't discriminatory about him not having visible abs. I was far more interested in his dick, which he hadn't sent photos of, but which he had described as "seriously huge". We arranged for him to come over on his lunch break that night, around 2330.
As it turned out, he wasn't joking. When he pulled it out, already half hard, I asked numbly, "Have you ever measured it?"
He laughed. "How could I have a dick this big -" he slapped it against his own thigh, loudly enough to echo in my barracks room - "and not measure it? Eleven inches. Seven and a half around." I believed it. Half-hard, he was bigger than Prior Enlisted.
I don't really need to describe the process of sucking dick to you twice in one chapter. Let's just say I couldn't fit it all - period - but that he was surprised how much I managed. He came much more quickly than Prior Enlisted did, was effusive in his praise, and most assuredly did not offer to let me fuck him. We both looked forward to the next time I would try to deepthroat him again.
"Horny" was the most accurate word to describe me on any given day during this period of my life. I jerked off two or three times per day, fucked an ass every night of the week and sometimes a couple during the day (such as Prior Enlisted when our lunch breaks could line up, or Danny on the weekends that he could host at his new place after moving out of Noah's), and sucking as many dicks as I could, sometimes as many as three a night. These were mostly straight Marines I had found on Craigslist, the then-new hookup app Grindr, or who had received my contact info from other straight Marines who I had serviced. I still never felt satisfied, because none of them brought me closer to the man I actually wanted.
"Frustrated" was a close second, though that only applied at work, where Corporal Cash continued his efforts to make me miserable, going so far as to show overt favoritism to Sanford. I knew he was doing it out of a desperate attempt not to give any indication of our sexual relationship, which he could not get enough of, but his behavior drew raised eyebrows anyways. I worked off the frustration by pounding him into prostate-orgasm bliss on nights that I literally could not find anyone else. It was to my shame that I had to turn to him more often than not.
It was as summer began to fade into fall that change reared its ugly head. With Cash back in the shop, we were considered to be overstaffed, and the unit wanted to send two of our Marines away so we could bring in one new guy and be considered fully staffed. The Marines to be sent away were Lance Corporal Sanford and Sergeant Jackson.
Without delay, they joined a provisional unit that was training to deploy as a support unit to Bahrain. The bright side of the training period was that they didn't get shipped off right away, and even kept their barracks rooms. I was hanging out with Adam pretty much whenever I wasn't hooking up. I was excited for his upcoming deployment, because he was, even though I wished I was going with him instead of Sanford. It did occur to me that with him being part of a different unit, there was significantly less likelihood of him being punished for fraternization if we did start a relationship. It was wishful thinking only encouraged by some of the little good news I had that summer.
Corporal Cash happily confided in me, one evening after I had spent the previous hour holding him facedown on his bed while wrecking his ass, that while he had been sent home from his own deployment for being in violation of DADT, his JAG lawyer had informed him that day that due to DADT being struck down by the end of September, his case was no longer going to be prosecuted. Just like that, he no longer had the specter of a dishonorable discharge hanging over his head.
Or, rather, the shape of that specter of dishonorable discharge had changed from the video he had kept of himself sucking some Iraqi man's cock to me plowing his ass. He hinted that since he wasn't going to be discharged, he intended to remain in the Corps for as long as they'd have him. A careerist.
I shrugged in response to that while getting dressed. "Congrats. You might want to keep that load in you as long as you can, then."
He looked up from his bed, his eyes still slightly unfocused from his intense orgasm. "Why?"
"Because," I said, slapping his ass hard enough to leave a white handprint surrounded by red, "it's the last one I'm giving you."
It was the ideal solution. For one thing, the lack of a sexual relationship meant he'd no longer need to mistreat me at work to present the facade that he wasn't showing me favoritism. For another, I would be forced to find people I was actually attracted to for sex instead of relying on someone I rather intensely disliked. Additionally, he would no longer have to worry about anyone finding out about our relationship.
I finished dressing, then went into my phone and searched up the emails we had exchanged. I highlighted them, showed him, and deleted them. "Delete your copies of those emails. None of this ever happened."
I walked out of the room, leaving him confused, hurt, sore, and deeply satisfied.
In August, I finally bought a car, a huge black Chrysler sedan that most Marines referred to as "a boat" or "that big-ass granny car". It got respectable mileage and could fit six people comfortably. Given that I didn't drink, I made bank ferrying Marines to and from bars in Ocean Beach. While they barhopped, I was using Grindr to find civilian guys to fuck in the area, opening up a whole new market for me. Being the designated driver twice a month made me enough money to cover gas, my monthly payment, and insurance. I DD'd every Friday and Saturday night that someone asked, turning a pretty huge profit.
In September, we learned that Adam and Sanford were leaving for Bahrain at the beginning of October, so we planned the trip to Vegas that Sanford and I had talked about at New Year's. I had done a pretty terrible job of keeping in touch with my parents, so when I called my stepmom to let them know I'd be in town the last week of September, she shared some news of her own with me.
She had gotten a job managing a motel near the Strip, so she and Dad had moved out of the house and taken up residence at the motel. While I was, at first, dismayed that they were living in a motel room and that there wouldn't be room for three grown men to stay over, she quickly offered me a free room with two beds and a couch so the three of us still had somewhere to sleep for free. I accepted, realizing how much Adam and Sanford would enjoy being closer to the Strip.
We drove out after work ended on the 23rd of September, a Friday. We had all taken a week's worth of leave. It was actually something of a requirement for Adam and Sanford, since they were preparing to deploy and were heavily encouraged to let off steam and enjoy themselves to boost morale prior to the departure. I took the leave - my first since the Christmas holidays the previous year - to match theirs. It was a fun week of hitting the casinos, shows, and tourist attractions during the day and driving Adam and Sanford to bars at night. I wasn't old enough to gamble, but after two days without a shave, attendants in a dimly lit casino would easily mistake me for being five to ten years older than I was. I didn't buy any drinks (I knew casino policy on alcohol was to card aggressively) and stuck to machines that paid in and out in coins.
After dropping them off at the various clubs they wanted to check out, I actually spent the rest of that evenings with my parents. It was quiet, it was relaxing, and it was easily the least toxic interactions I had ever had with them. My dad and I cooked dinner. We all ate and watched movies.
On our last night there, my parents were winding down for the night when I got a text from Adam around 11 that he and Sanford were going to hit another club before they were done for the night, so I excused myself and went to take a short nap so I wouldn't be worn out when they called in two or three hours to get me to pick them up.
I woke up with the two of them entering our room, too drunk to remember to be quiet. I hadn't been expecting them back without me to drive them, so I had stripped naked before crawling into bed. Sanford was too drunk to notice as he stumbled off to the bathroom to piss with the door open, but Adam got a good look and didn't seem to hate what he saw. I pulled on a pair of gym shorts, just to be safe. They didn't really hide anything, but they gave us plausible deniability if Sanford was more coherent when he finished pissing.
As I pulled on the shorts, Adam said, "We figured we'd let you sleep. The last club we stopped at was only a couple blocks away. Cheap cab." He unbuttoned the collared shirt he'd gone clubbing in, revealing a white tee underneath.
I nodded. "Thanks. Sorry for..." I gestured at myself. "Figured you guys would call and I could get dressed before going to get you.
He shrugged. "It's cool. I usually sleep naked too."
I chuckled, stretching my back so that it cracked. "Not surprised the serial freeballer sleeps naked."
A smile played at his lips. "What would you know about how often I freeball?"
"Every time you wear shorts," I said. "Or any pants that aren't a loose fit. If I hadn't seen firsthand that you're circumcised, I'd have guessed."
Adam gave no response to that but another chuckle as Sanford stumbled out of the bathroom, mumbling, "'M goin' t'bed."
Adam went into the bathroom next, carrying a pair of gym shorts. I could hear how loudly he was pissing even though he closed the door. I went back to bed and tried to ignore it. When he came back out in his white undershirt and gym shorts, Sanford was already snoring. He started trying to plump up the cushions on the couch, a lost cause if I ever saw one.
Rather than lie in bed and listen to him struggle to make the couch comfortable, I got up. "I'll sleep on the couch," I said. "You should take the bed."
"No," he said, giving me an incredulous look. "You're driving tomorrow, you need sleep."
I rolled my eyes. Then I said, "Fine, we'll share the bed." It was a twin, but he was smaller than the average Marine and I was a fair bit less bulky than the average adult American man despite my build.
He nodded silently at that. I lay back down, but scooted toward the right side of the bed in compromise.
He stripped off his shirt, but left the gym shorts on before crawling up the foot of the bed on the left side. When he sank onto the pillow, the scent of clean sweat, whiskey, and woodsy deodorant washed over me. I couldn't help taking a deep breath, which Adam noticed. It was frankly a far cry from the scent I was used to getting off of him, which was that of cigarette smoke. I realized I hadn't seen him smoke in a long time. I hadn't even noticed when he quit.
The physical contact between us was tearing me apart. I couldn't get any closer to sleep feeling his chest hair tickling at my bicep. He shifted and settled in, and my stomach did a flip when I realized that one of his large, darker pink nipples was firmly pressed against my arm.
I kept my eyes closed and took slow, steady breaths to simulate sleep. Fake it 'til you make it.
He shifted again. His right arm went under the pillow. Under my head. His right leg was firmly in contact with my left.
He was breathing slowly and deeply, too. Had he fallen asleep? Was he faking like I was? I couldn't know without opening my eyes, but that would ruin the illusion.
I was actually starting to feel sleep calling when he shifted again, sighed. A loud, short exhale through the nose, like when someone gets a funny text and replies "lol" without actually laughing. Then I felt him stroke my bicep once.
"I can't sleep," he whispered, barely audible over Sanford's snores. "And I know you can't either."
I considered pretending to still be asleep, but curiosity got me. "How'd you know I'm awake?"
"Because of this," he answered, running his hand up the length of my erect dick.
I cringed. I had been so aware of every part of him pressed up against me that I just hadn't realized I was hard.
"It's okay," he whispered. "Me too." He reached for my hand and guided it down to his own erection. I gave it a squeeze before cringing away from that, too.
"You're drunk," I whispered sharply.
"I stopped drinking an hour before Sanford did and switched to water," he answered. "I'm sober enough to consent."
I couldn't have this conversation looking away from him. I rolled over so that we were eye-to-eye. This had the (un?)fortunate side effect of making my cock slap right into his. He reached for it again. I pushed his hand away.
"Come on, Ryan," he whispered. "I know you want this as bad as I do." His eyes were clear, focused. I didn't stop him when he reached for my dick again. "Fuck, you definitely want this. You're getting so wet for me."
I gasped when he reached his hand into the waistband of my shorts to feel the font of precum directly as it bubbled up.
"How - how long?" I asked.
"How long since I wanted it? Or how long since I knew you did?" I nodded at the second one while he smeared precum up and down my shaft.
"Since that time I came over to your room just after some dude left it. You were wearing these tight little blue gym shorts. You were soft when you answered the door, but started getting hard when you realized it was me," he breathed. "I half thought you shot your load when you saw me. Realized when we got back to my room that it was just precum." He slipped my shorts down a bit and got a good look at the dick he was stroking.
"And you?" I asked.
"Same answer," he said, before sitting up and bending over to start sucking my cock.
Those fucking lips.
I learned things about sucking dick with those lips on me. I hadn't learned a remotely new technique since deepthroating. His mouth on my cock was as tight, warm, and wet as any ass I'd ever fucked. Those lips were squeezing, relenting, squeezing again on different parts of my cock as he went up and down. He never quite took me all, but that wasn't his technique.
I lay flat and pulled his shorts down, too. He was leaking, though not nearly as much as I was. He kicked his shorts off entirely as I pulled him into a position that allowed me to suck him, too.
He tasted better than I'd imagined. I'd never really noticed huge differences in taste in precum, and only noticed a difference in the taste of a guy's dick if he hadn't washed it recently, but for some reason, my brain decided that sucking Adam's cock tasted like the first ray of warm sunshine after a long, cold winter. I was almost heartbroken when he adjusted his smaller body to suck my dick better and I found that his dick was out of my reach.
And then I realized that his ass was in the perfect position for eating.
His glutes were nice and muscled, but there was just enough fat there to make the twin globes round rather than flat squares. His cheeks and crack were resplendent with golden hairs. I didn't think twice about burying my face between those cheeks and working my tongue against, and into, his hole. He deepthroated me for the first time as my tongue dug its way into his hole, though I'm pretty sure it was accidental; he just happened to gasp in pleasure while as deep as he could go otherwise. He came up gasping for air so loudly that I was surprised Sanford didn't wake up. I spared a glance but didn't separate my mouth from Adam's ass.
Adam took my cock a few more times before coming up for air and prying my hands from his warm, hairy thighs and spinning around while still straddling me. "I'm glad I do have some alcohol in me," he admitted. "I've never taken one as big as yours before."
He reached back to guide me to his hole. I could tell how wet my cock was when his relatively dry hand touched it, and I could tell by the rapidly cooling saliva on my face that his ass must be just as wet. He lowered himself slowly. I felt the head pop in. A fresh surge of precum came out of me. He looked down and opened his mouth to ask. I cut him off. "Just precum. I don't cum that easily." He accepted the answer and lifted himself slightly. I could feel the lips of his hole catch on the ridge of my cockhead. More precum. He lowered himself further.
He got about two inches in before stopping and changing direction again. This time, when I spurted precum into him, he began dribbling it onto me. I reached down and started stroking his cock, using his precum as lube. He moaned and sat further down than before, taking at least half of me. He opened his mouth in what might have been a shout of pain as he went too far, but he shoved his free fist into his mouth to avoid making noise.
He held his position for another few seconds, then slowly lowered himself. Slowly raised. Slowly lowered further. I was glad for the stamina I had built up. There was a time when fucking a guy this slowly for this long would have had me counting down to orgasm.
When I felt his ass hair on my balls, I summoned the strength to stand - which caused him to gasp and wrap his arms around me, pressing our chests together - then laid him back down in the missionary position without removing myself from him. We made out while I continued fucking him, raising my speed slowly and steadily as his reaction became more overwhelmingly positive.
The rought blankets, the firm bed, the musty room - it all vanished.
The only thing I could feel was Adam. His chest against mine, his arms around me, his jawline against my lips, his left asscheek in my right hand, his neck in my left, his cock leaking against my abs. More than anything, his endless warmth pulling me in inch by inch. I would withdraw, only for him to pull me back in. I wasn't fucking him. We were just connecting.
The only thing I could see was Adam. His blue eyes. His short blond high-and-tight. His full, gorgeous lips. His muscled torso and biceps. His taut thighs. The downy golden hair covering his chest, arms, and legs. And when I looked down, the line of his thick, veined cock guiding my eye to the place where we were joined.
The only thing I could hear was Adam. His short, sharp gasps of breath. His moans of pleasure. The rasp of his body hair as it rubbed against me, everywhere from our chests to the hair around his ass rasping against the erection filling him.
All I could smell or taste? You bet your ass it was Adam. I could faintly taste the whiskey still on his breath, but otherwise his tongue tasted of my own precum. He smelled, as I mentioned before, of clean sweat, whiskey, piney deodorant. The smell of precum also ingratiated itself.
The sunrise broke me out of that state of utter connection before I realized I wasn't going to last much longer. By then, Adam didn't even have the voice left to moan. The contractions that wracked his body every time I thrust came out of him as a strained breath. He kept his eyes tight shut, nodding his continued approval.
I whispered, "You're gonna make me cum soon."
He sucked in a deep breath and croaked, "Thank fuck," before devolving into a wheezy laugh. After another gulp of breath, he whispered, "Jesus, Ryan, I'm so close too."
I slowed down drastically. He let out a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt. I kissed him as I kept my slow pace going. He returned the kiss enthusiastically, one hand traveling up and down the muscles of my back while the other grasped at the back of my head. I could feel his thighs pinning mine between them. His calves crossed over my ass as he pulled me in as deeply as I could go.
He lost control first. I only know that because I felt him contract around me before I also lost control. It was a photo-finish. I kept slowly withdrawing only to be pulled back in. I wasn't getting soft enough to just fall out, and he was still contracting so much it just pulled me back in.
His own cum painted his chest. One shot landed on his chin. I bent down to lick it up, only to realize the next two shots landed on my own chin. We laughed. He licked the cum off my chin and we kissed again, sharing the taste of him. Mellow, sweet. Almost buttery. I loved it. I bent as much as I could to lick it off his chest. This was heaven.
I lifted his leg so that I could flop myself down around it to lie next to him. He moaned again. His dick twitched as I spun around, causing another small gob of cum to leak out of him. He swiped it up and fed it to me directly. I sucked his fingers clean.
We stayed there until we had both caught our breath. By that time, he had relaxed enough that my half-hard dick finally came out of him, coated in cum. He didn't hesitate to suck it clean, which was a little torturous on my sensitive head. I scooped him up and carried him to the bathroom. Sanford was still snoring.
We giggled with exhaustion and adrenaline as we washed cum out of one another's body hair, kissing each other on whatever body part was closest whenever the urge struck.
After toweling off, we stumbled back to bed, slipped our shorts back on.
We slept in until about 1300. Sanford finally woke us up to remind us that we did have to get back to base before midnight. He didn't question why we were in bed together, why we were wearing only gym shorts, why we were sleeping arm in arm, why Adam had one of his legs between mine.
As we lay there, slowly coming awake, while Sanford packed his bags in my car, I whispered, "I wish we could wake up like this every morning."
Adam ground his morning wood into me. "What, sore and ready to go again?"
I chuckled. "Sure. Sanford might notice though."
All the tension went out of us as we took a deep breath together. The room reeked of sex. There was no way Sanford hadn't already noticed that. He didn't seem bothered, though. And the consequences were considerably less than they might have been, considering that we were no longer in the same unit, and the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell had been made official over a week prior.
"We have to get up and face reality eventually," Adam said, disappointed.
"Yeah," I agreed. "I wish I could marry you."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Same. In a heartbeat."
I kissed him again. It lasted about ten seconds, then we just settled into each other again. We stayed that way until Sanford came back a few minutes later, when we finally extracted ourselves from our mutual embrace.