Chapter Six
When awakening the next morning, the first thing I did was feel my smooth belly where pubic hair used to be. The second thing I did was feel my heart beating fast, thinking about meeting the Marine during my run after school. I was still experiencing a combination of excitement and a touch of fear. That formula continued all day. On the way to school, Chubby and I never even mentioned last night's activities. It's now part of the Dylan/Chubby experience. Beside jerking off, there was something else about last night that I can't put my finger on.
Then, walking to school, I could sense Chubby feeling closer than normal, which I wouldn't have thought possible. I mean, we're already closer than brothers. It's beginning to look like icky-Ricky doesn't have a chance of splitting Chubby and me up. School dragged on all day because I was anxious to get on the run and meet my Marine. At the same time, I had a constant nervous, scary feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was something new to me. It's my first time feeling nervous with scary anticipation while simultaneously being excited with desirable anticipation. Opposite emotions about the same thing.
My aroused penis stirred, my heart nervously beating too fast, and my hands with a scary tremor. I was jittery the entire day because I knew I was going to meet him. It was nerve-racking, but I'm eighteen year old and only now finally dipping my toe in the sexual ocean to determine the temperature, metaphorically speaking. It's about time, too.
At the end of the day, while closing down the school newspaper, there was no doubt, I was going to go through with it. The scary, weird feeling in my belly existed stronger than ever, so that didn't change, but I knew I was going to meet the Marine just the same. Smoking two cigarettes on the way home I tried to calm my nerves. There's nothing to be afraid of. He's apparently married and is bisexual. What else can it be? He's taken a liking to me and if I can grow some balls really quick, I'll find out a little more about gay sex. Maybe, at the same time, I will experience the sexual thrill of my life thus far. Also, I wanted to feel proud of myself for being gutsy enough to do this.
At home, Mom asked me. "Dylan, what's wrong? You're acting strange, honey." I told her, "I'm not acting strange, Mom. Everything is great, truly," and went to my room to change clothes. She yelled after me, "Your voice sounded funny too." Mothers!
In my room, I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, maybe I do look a little funny, but that's because I'm really nervous! So, what, though? The important thing is that I'm committed, so with my running stuff on, I go out the door carrying my bottle of water and begin the four-mile run. Jogging slowly until I got warmed up, I kept telling myself. "Act like a man, for Christ's sake! You've never been a wuss. Don't start now!"
There's something about that Marine that draws me to him, but I was increasingly nervous the closer I got to the cut-off trail. Shaky as hell, but determined to experience this again, I had myself psyched to find out if it could possibly be as hot the second time as it was the first. I'm so freaking nervous about it, though. After running for almost an hour, I saw the sign for the rest area turnoff trail right in front of me, and without hesitating, I followed it.
Slowing down to a jog and then walking the last ten yards. My heart was thumping, and I was taking short, fast breaths as I again questioned myself, why are you doing this? I felt compelled to do it. I can't EVER remember feeling this apprehensive about anything before in my life and, at the same time, having this high a level of anticipation. My groin was definitely buzzing, and I groped myself with both hands just before reaching the trees. Then I stopped, getting myself under control before taking little hesitant steps around the group of trees, and there he was, standing near the pee tree, sweating and breathing hard.
He must have arrived a minute before me. I glanced down at my Swiss Army wristwatch: It was five minutes to three. The first thing I noticed was his new crisp, Marine-style, white side-wall haircut. He looked so cool, so confident, so hot. Feeling unsure of myself and a little bit scared, I stopped and waited, panting slightly and silently telling myself to calm the fuck down!
The Marine glanced up without changing expression. He didn't appear the least bit surprised I showed up. After glancing in my direction, he took two steps away from the tree, pointed back at it, and said, "Take your pee." I swallowed hard and, standing up as straight as I could, walked slowly, like a zombie, over to the tree. Spreading my legs slightly, I pulled the front of my running shorts and my jockstrap cup down to catch under my nuts and waited. I wanted to, but I didn't look back. I could sense him behind me a second before his hairy arm came around my neck, under my chin more firmly than the last time. He spoke in a no-nonsense manner, "Don't wait for me to tell you what to do every time; get against me tightly and stay like that."
Gulping and coughing, I leaned back against him, feeling that slightly sweaty, hairy arm tickling under my chin. The fleeting thought that he could kill me in an instant flew through my brain, and I discarded it just as fast as it had arrived. I took a deep inhale and held it. His body was damp with perspiration, and soon, the back of my T-shirt was damp as well. Adjusting his hairy arm so my chin, raising it awkwardly, he used his other hand to feel my shaved belly and down all around my cock and balls but said nothing. I tried to relieve the pressure under my chin by going up on my toes as he fondled my teen package. Then, rubbing next to my nuts on my thigh, he finally ran his hand behind to grab a fistful of my buttocks and squeezed hard.
Oh my God, the feel of him excited me greatly. I'm so glad I came back to him. Waiting for him to tell me what to do; up on my toes, my legs got jittery, my heart beat hard and fast, and I was getting dizzy. In that hypnotic voice, with his lips brushing my ear and without the scratchy five o'clock shadow he had the first day, he said, "Exhale! Breathe the fuck out, or you'll pass out. You need to relax, as I told you last time."
He rubbed the side of his face against the side of my head just above my ear, and I could feel his semi-swollen eight-inch cock against my buttocks. Him being three or four inches taller than me, his organ rubbed against the top portion of my ass. His penis was sideways in his running shorts, and it didn't feel like he had a jockstrap on. Doing what he said, I gasped out an exhale but immediately had to do a huge inhale of another wheezy, deep breath; my breathing was totally out of its normal pattern. I was all fucked up while I continued leaning back against the Marine with all my might.
He wrapped both arms around me now, leaned back, and casually lifted me off my feet; his cock was getting harder and harder as he put his lips against my ear again and said, "It'll be okay. Calm down. You're excited, I understand that, but you've got to breathe!" Both my hands were on his wrist again, the one he had holding me around my stomach. He lowered me back down, and when my feet touched the ground, my cock, and balls bounced as he continued to hug me, swaying me slightly from side to side. I laid my head back against his shoulder, and he nuzzled the hair on the side of my head with the side of his chin. It was a surreal moment in time for me, as if I was in a different dimension, dreaming or something.
The two minutes we were like that, I got very relaxed, and my breathing slowly became regular again, although my heart continued beating too hard and fast. Sensing I had recovered sufficiently from my near-frenzied state, he said, "That's good," and just like that, he took my penis in his fingers and said, "Pee!" A second later, a stream came right out, and I had a long piss, followed by a shoulder shudder, his flick of my dick to get the last drops off, and then me doing that deep breath of relief after a much-needed piss.
All business again, the Marine said, "Okay, you need to come over to the bench with me now. I need you to concentrate and do everything the way I tell you." I felt nervous again. Like Wednesday, he held onto my cock and led me over to the bench, using my penis as a short leash, me taking little, fast steps outside his feet so I didn't step on his heels. When he sat down, I stood as straight as possible, hands clasped behind me. I was hoping he'd compliment me for doing it the right way and maybe compliment me for my shaved pubes, too.
Standing before him, averting my eyes, with my hands clasped behind me, I had the absurd realization that my penis was erect. That totally took me by surprise. When did that happen? It was sticking six inches straight out from my shaved crotch. Maybe it got hard when he used it as a leash to lead me over here. No! Now I recall that it got hard near the end of my piss. How unusual!
Sitting up straight and somehow making it look comfortable, the Marine casually took a long pull on his bottle of water and then wiped his face with a small towel he retrieved from the waistband of his running shorts. When I dared, I stole a peek at him. He looked so tough but kind of boyish, too, almost like a kid playing a tough Marine. Every time I looked at him, he appeared younger and turned me on more and more every minute. It was crazy. Not just his hot looks but how he did everything, even drinking water. He didn't swallow, gulp, gulp, gulp, like I do. He allowed the water to just roll down his throat.
Suddenly, I had this sense that I really wanted him to like me and maybe tell me again that I'm special as he did Wednesday afternoon. His thirst quenched, face wiped off, he stood up and looked me over the same way he did before, except, this time, he put his hands under my T-shirt and ran the palms of his hands over my chest, around my back, and my sides, coming around my belly. He hesitated for a second, my dick a wooden pole, then his hand rubbed down to grasp my boner and stroke it slowly.
I gasped, and after a few strokes, he said, "Get back to standing straight!" I stiffened my body again and stood up so straight my neck ached. After feeling my body a bit, he nodded to himself, took his hands away, sat down, and pulled out his long, hard boner. It was too long to stick straight out of his crotch like mine; his went out hard and straight but slumped down due to its length and the weight of that swollen head. If I was braver, I'd say something about a slouching boner, but he probably wouldn't see the irony nor the humor in it. Instead, I tried standing up even straighter.
Still sitting on the bench, he took my nuts in his fist and squeezed them too hard. Looking at my face with those glowing blue eyes of his, he squeezed my balls harder. I scrunched my face and took the pain without a whimper. "Good," is all he said. Then he put my boner in his mouth and sucked it fast with strong pulls from his lips and tongue. He sucked me off like he was sucking on a Tootie pop that he wanted to consume in record time.
It was as if there actually was some yummy flavor coming off my bone-hard penis. When a small squeak escaped my lips as I squirmed at the thousands of pleasure sensations his mouth was creating, his blue eyes looked up again, and I moaned, "I'm gonna cum." Taking my cock out of his mouth, he held it sideways against my thigh and began sucking small parts of my shaved belly with a combination kissing/sucking motion that pulled my flesh between his front teeth for a light bite as shivers and goose bumps ran all around my body, me shivering as if a cold breeze had blown over me. He went back to sucking on my cock, sucking it gently now. He wasn't stroking himself like last time.
His thumb and index finger of his left hand held my penis at its base against my belly, and the other hand was between my legs rubbing from just behind my balls back to my asshole using his middle finger. He did it over and over, and it was getting sweaty and slippery down there. He pushes his nose into my belly and swallows the head of my boner... it slid right down his throat. This time when he swallowed the head of my cock, I went up on my toes, and he pushed his middle finger all the way up my ass. It made me come down off my toes and then quickly back up on them again, sputtering and shuddering and making "Aaaahhh" sounds.
He fucked me with that finger, fast and faster, never taking it all the way out, just rubbing it against my prostate, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, all the while bobbing his head so my boner was in and out of his throat. I didn't even have a warning before a burning blast of cum shot up from my nuts and out my cock into the Marine's mouth. It felt like a torrent of teen cum, but it wasn't much more than the normal amount; it just felt like it was a lot more.
With my entire body vibrating in pleasure, he sucked my pee slit until every drop of cum was accounted for. I was blubbering and blowing sprays of spit out a small opening between my teeth. What a climax! It was over too fast, but other than that, it was the most intense feeling I've ever had. When the Marine pulled off my softening cock, he sucked my nuts into his mouth, another totally unexpected action. Dazed by it all, I suddenly realized that I was leaning down with my arms around the back of his neck. How I got in that position, I couldn't tell you. The hairs on the back of his head were so short it felt like sandpaper back there. I rubbed up his head, and when I got near the top, the hairs were slightly longer and they were soft. It was shocking that this hard Marine would have such soft hair. Still in a bizarre daze, I used both my hands to rub all around his head, up the back and sides, feeling the contrasting sandpaper and soft hair.
I quickly learned that the Marine didn't care for me rubbing his head. He pushed my bag of nuts out of his mouth with his tongue and said, "God damn you! Stand up straight. Hands behind your back." I got back in position, then sneaked a look down, and, oh my God, I've never seen a longer cock than the one he had at that moment. He was wiping the finger he'd had up my ass on the little towel, and then he tightened his jaw and closed his eyes for a second while he stroked that long, long boner of his. It only took four strokes before a stream of pre cum drooled out and hit the ground. He murmured, "Oooh," and sat up straight on the bench, definitely aroused, but he took his hand off his dick.
I felt proud that it was partly me that had aroused. He stood up, blew out another deep breath, and said, "Now you're going to suck me off. Do you kneel or sit down when you give head?" I sucked off fat Carl initially sitting down, but he quickly insisted I do it on my knees, so I told the Marine, "On my knees," and got down in front of him and waited to see if he had further instructions. He moved us over a few feet so that my back was against the plank of pressure-treated wood on the bench. "Okay, kid, show me what you got."
I licked up from his balls to the head of his boner, and more precum had squeezed out of his pee slit. Taking the head of his cock in my mouth, I sucked the precum off his prick and swallowed it. Carl taught me to enjoy doing this, so I was the calmest since walking around those trees at the entrance. I liked sucking Carl's cock near the end, and now I tried to remember the way he had taught me to try putting everything I had into pleasing and pleasuring the Marine. He lightly held my head, his fingers playing with my hair.
Sucking and licking the top half of his boner and then rubbing his cock's head against the inside of my cheek and the roof of my mouth, doing the things Carl had instructed me to do for him. I thought it was going quite well, and I was getting my own stiffy back from sucking off the Marine. I wasn't even stroking myself, and I got hard. Not surprisingly, he smelled masculine, and that excited me, as did his thick, dark pubic bush. I had one hand around his boner and the other one ruffling through his damp pubic bush and then lightly squeezing his large bag of nuts as I sucked him off for all I was worth.
After five minutes, the Marine muttered, "No," and tightened his two-hand grip on my head to over-power my neck muscles, and now he was manipulating my head's movements. "Swallow it," he muttered, adding off-handedly, "By now, you should be taking it down your throat." He began directing his cock head against the back of my throat, and I gaged like mad, almost throwing up.
"You'll need to learn to do this eventually, so it might as well be now. Relax your throat muscles. Think of it as swallowing a large mouthful of something." His instructions were made matter-of-factly, as if he were talking about me learning to fry an egg. He thrust his boner in my throat, and I would have backed away, except my back was against that bench, and the bench was cemented to the ground. I tried to shake my head, but he held it too tightly. Relentlessly, he poked his hard boner at the entrance to my throat, and each time, my gag repelled it. My eyes were tearing like crazy; my dick was now limp as it could get, and I wasn't calm anymore. I didn't want to do this, but he wouldn't stop poking the back of my throat, so I let my teeth scrape his boner, and the lights went out in my head for half a second.
It took me a few more seconds to realize he'd slapped my face with his open hand. "The next time your teeth touch my pecker, you are going out for the count. Do you got that?" He left my head loose enough for me to nod, my ears still ringing. The slap was helpful because it kept my mind off gagging and sure enough, the head of his cock went down past my gag reflex, into my throat, and then quickly out. It scared me and fascinated me at the same time. Three pokes later, and his boner's head went down my throat again, and this time, he left it there for a couple of seconds. When I started to panic, he pulled it back out but pushed it back in again.
Tears began running down my face, and mucus ran from my nose as he forcibly trained me to deep-throat his cock. I don't know how long we did it, but I hated every second of it, and I hated him. It hurt my throat, and I couldn't breathe when I thought I needed to. I promised myself that if I lived through this, never again. I will never do this again.
I've learned my lesson. This Marine is dangerous! The tears had turned into a whimpering cry, but he wouldn't stop, and his cock head was going in and out routinely now. I prayed it was over, but no. Now he was seeing how deep in my throat he could get his cock. With no mercy, it was going halfway down my throat rather easily. Then he concentrated on getting the second half in my mouth and down my throat. Before he was done, I had completely surrendered my head and throat to the Marine and, as a result, with his strong hands controlling my head, I eventually found my nose repeatedly pressed into his pubes as he fucked my throat with the entire length of his full boner, all the way in and all the way out.
I gaged at times and gasped for breath other times, but he was going to fuck my mouth come hell or high water. As he got in a rhythm, sliding his slippery, saliva-dripping, long boner in and out of my throat, I concentrated on keeping my lips over my teeth. I was meticulous about it, as if it was my job to pleasure the Marine. In some part of my brain, I now felt like I belonged to him. Complying totally with him, gulping and making the swallowing motion he instructed me to do, and it aided insertion and withdrawal, and with the huge amount of saliva his action was generating, he was humping easily in and out of my throat. Like I said, with a comfortable, rhythmic thrusting of his hips, almost a dance move to a medium beat. It shocked me when I realized I was stroking my own boner again. When did I start doing that?
I stroked my hard cock in rhythm with every thrust he made down my throat. I could hardly believe I'd gotten a boner under those circumstances, but there it was, and after a while, I got that feeling deep in my balls that quickly resulted in me spurting out a dollop of cum. It happened just ten seconds before his eruption. The Marine was pulling up out of my throat when he grunted out, "Ohhhh!" and a large splash of cum hit the back of my throat. Some I gulped down and swallowed, but most I sucked up into my sinus cavity and coughed, then blew a large cum bubble out my right nostril. The Marine had his eyes tightly closed as the second smaller cum load hit the roof of my mouth and spilled out around his boner at both sides of my mouth; the cream drooled down my chin and down to my neck. He roughly pulled his boner out to stroke it with fast, tight strokes.
Inhaling deeply, a shot of cum hit my forehead, and then one hit my chin, and he squeezed his cock tightly, dragging out drools of cum that he spread around my face with the head of his cock. He kept groaning and taking shuddering big inhales, apparently unable to get enough oxygen into his system. I was desperately trying to clear my sinus cavities by blowing out through my nostrils. I did it so hard that my ears stopped up. Strings of his creamy cum flew out each nostril, but I couldn't get it all out because it was too sticky.
All I smelled and tasted was the Marine's cum. It smelled vaguely like a damp kitchen sponge and tasted faintly of hamburger. My climax had me groping my cock and squeezing my nuts. Goddamn, that second climax of mine had felt good!
The Marine staggered back two steps, still stroking his long boner and still breathing hard. Sweat covered both our faces, and of course, my face was also drenched with his cum load. He puffed his cheeks out and blew out a last big exhale before saying, "You did okay, kid." He stepped back toward me now with a smirk on his face, then cupped the back of my head with one hand, and with the other, he smeared his cum evenly over my face and into my hair. The smirk was almost a smile, almost friendly.
Then he said, "I'll help clean you up." He'd been wiping his sweaty face with his small towel again, then poured water from his bottle onto the towel and began wiping the cum and sweat off my face. I could detect the faint smell of shit on the little towel from when he wiped the finger, the one he'd had up my ass in the towel. After two swipes, he snapped, "Stand up straight! Do I need to tell you that every fucking time?"
I got up straight with my hands behind my back, and he continued with my facial clean-up, mumbling, "Slouching is disrespectful." He wiped at my hair, but I knew he couldn't get all the cum out of there; then he pressed the damp towel to my nose and squeezed it there with a finger on either side and said, "Blow hard." He made me blow four times before there wasn't any more cum to blow out. I could breathe through my nose again. Heaving the towel into a wire mesh trash basket, he pulled my jockstrap cup and running shorts up and said, "Did you like that?"
I'd been thinking about how much I hated it, so it surprised me when I said, "It was hot and sexy." He snapped, "Answer my question; did you like it?" I mumbled, "Yes, I liked it." He said, "I thought you would, but it's made me late, so I'll leave first. Give me a couple of minutes head start, then you can follow. Monday, you be right here at the same time," and just like that, he took off with a fast jog, leaving me standing at attention, I guess that is what it's called.
I'm wondering what I liked about it, if, in fact, I had liked it. I went over to sit on the bench, contemplating that question. My throat was sore, and I didn't need to contemplate that because it was obvious. My face was still stinging where he slapped me, but other than that, nothing came to me from my contemplating. I looked around at the different parts of this rest area, wondering, what the hell am I doing?
I don't know what I like or what I'm doing, so I stopped thinking about it. I took a deep breath and thought, I've never been in the rest area's lavatory, so why not? I walked over and went in the front door. There was a little foyer with many health pamphlets encouraging exercise, both running and biking. Also, good advice like don't start forest fires and don't litter. There were pamphlets and a list of penalties for doing some of the things you're not supposed to do. This is a Massachusetts State forest, so of course, there are a lot of rules and regulations, although there is no mention of gay blow jobs and deep-throating. I pushed into the lavatory proper and was pleasantly surprised at how clean it was. Apparently, the State Parks people are still servicing this place.
Looking in a mirror, I could see the Marine's finger marks in red on the side of my face, still showing from that smack fifteen minutes ago. I touched the red outline with my fingers and then felt my throat. It was sore and hurt, too. After washing my hands and face, then my head, I left the lavatory, I began jogging back down the rest area trail, thinking I may have liked it today, but I would never meet the Marine again. After fifteen minutes or so, I drank water from my bottle and noticed my throat felt okay. That's odd. I tried not to think about anything the rest of the way home.
Back at the house, there was a note from my Mom saying she was at the supermarket. Good! I didn't feel like talking. Instead, I took a long shower and slowly began thinking about my deep-throat experience. I first realized that the Marine had some almost magical way, besides his far superior strength, to get me to do what he wanted. This means I have no free will when I'm with him; therefore, it's a good thing that I'll be staying away from him.
Thinking about never seeing him again made me think about him. He was so handsome it was almost ridiculous. Add to that the fact I was now pretty sure he was even younger than I first thought. Maybe only two or three years older than me. Yes, he could still be a teenager. That is one super-hot teenager, but how did he get this power, this magnetism he seems to have? The more I thought about me rubbing his head and that sandpaper and then the feel of his soft hair up near the top of his head, it's... oh, hell, I don't know.
He's so unique that I began to want to see him again. I know I shouldn't ever take a chance seeing him again, but I wanted to anyway. His hands felt so steady whenever he touched me. He never seemed in doubt about what to do to me next. It was fascinating. Maybe I like it best when he has me captured with his hairy wrist under my chin, pulling my head back and up. And the strength in his arms. Hell, in his whole body, he's so fucking attractive and scary.
Lying on my bed after the shower wearing boxer underwear, I went over every step of today's encounter with him, and the more I thought about it, the harder my cock got. Eventually, I jerked off, seeing points of light in my head, arching my back and shooting a nice string of cum that went straight up and then down, landing on my bedspread. I'd played with myself while thinking about the Marine and then did another jerk off with my cock sticking up through the boxer's pee slit opening. That climax was super hot, too. But, like the last time after seeing the Marine, I felt like a piece of shit again. Yeah, I felt as though I'd been like a wimp, letting the Marine do whatever he wanted with me. For God's sake, we didn't even know each other's names.
Being hard on myself as I changed my boxers, I compared my pathetic behavior to those guys I'd read about who go to Men's lavatories at rest areas and put their dicks through holes in the toilet stall partitions, allowing total strangers to then suck them off, or God only knows what else. I challenged myself to start doing that, and maybe I could also hang out at the restroom in the bus terminal downtown and give blow jobs to homeless derelicts.
I was getting carried away, but why I so easily allowed myself to be used by the Marine mystified me. Then, while scrubbing at the cum stain on my bedspread, I got pissed off at myself for constantly highlighting the hot aspects of the Marine instead of being more critical of my performance. I decided on two things: one, I wasn't ever going back to the Parker Park rest stop, and the other thing is I'd call Carl to get some mentoring about this whole experience so I could understand it better. Maybe I'll be able to use the information for future reference. Carl's the only one I feel slightly comfortable talking about gay stuff with, and he seems to know what he's talking about, the fat fuck.
To be continued...
