Written with Corporal Cody
Norfolk, Fall 2007
I didn't often remember my sex dreams, but I had a real vivid one a few nights after I got back from my Savannah trip.
It started off with me and Sean Carter walking in the desert. It was hot, blistering hot, and Sean had on just a pair of camo uniform trousers, a nylon webbed belt, and a pair of broke-in, sand-colored combat boots. He had on mirrored aviator sunglasses, and somehow I didn't, almost blinded by the brightness. But mostly, all I saw was his tanned back as he walked in front of me, his knotted traps and delts looking completely solid and surprisingly not as sweaty as I was feeling. I had on an old Virginia T-shirt, which was soaked through the cotton as it clung to my body.
Suddenly, there was an Army tan drash tent in front of us. Sean opened the flap and stepped inside. I followed suit.
There was a foldout card table in the center, set up on a blanket-like tarp. Sean sat down and I took the free chair across from him. The white teeth of his smile looked brighter in the dimmer cover of the tent, and I felt the thrill at seeing his weathered, ruggedly handsome face, with its perpetual, dark stubble. He said something to me, but I couldn't understand it. Maybe I was getting heat stroke.
"Arm wrestle?" Sean finally said.
He didn't wait for my response before placing his muscular, tattooed right arm on the card table surface. He leaned forward, making his dogtags jostle along his hard, hairy pecs. It was only then that I realized his Army buddies were standing around us - other senior NCOs, in a similar half-naked state of dress, sweaty and musclebound. The men, in their late 30s to early 50's, stood around, arms folded and looking on.
"No fair, I'm left-handed," I said to Sean. Maybe it wouldn't matter that much, but I wanted to favor my stronger side.
Sean gave me a knowing grin, though I couldn't read his eyes through the glare of his sunglasses. "OK, I'll still whoop your ass, kiddo," he drawled, switching arms.
I scooted up and matched his position. Taking Sean's grip in mine, our fingers wrapping around each other's palm. His hand was slightly bigger, definitely rougher. One of the Soldiers played ref as he stepped out of the ranks and up the table. "On your mark... get set..."
The "Go" came and almost instantly, Sean's face gave a quick grimace of exertion, and his bicep contracted into a ball the size of grapefruit and flattened my wrist down to the table with a thud.
"Best out of three," Sean announced, a cocky smirk on his face as he quickly let go of my hand, flexed his fingers, and reset his left arm into the upright position. I followed suit, pledging to myself to do better that round.
I looked up at the "ref" NCO. He was older, looking well into his 30s. He had the same buzzcut, his bristed hair beginning to gray as I looked at his pale eyes before taking in his bare upper body. He was meatier and beefier than Sean, and I took a second to admire how thick his nipples were and how they puffed out over a mostly smooth, rounded chest. I turned back to Sean, who was smiling knowingly. My boyfriend was hot as fuck, and rather than embarrassed, I was getting turned on by him and the men around me.
"Go!" came the call again. This time, I held steady. Sean's and my arms were locked in place a solid minute, our combined fists, swaying back and forth just an inch or so as we tried to outdo each other. I couldn't read Sean's expression from behind his shades, but from the pulsing of his veins across his arms, I could tell he was exerting a lot of effort. I was, too. The other guys were hollering, cheering us on as they got closer to the table. Maybe more cheers for Sean, but a few seemed to want to see their Command Sergeant Major knocked down a peg.
That fueled me. I pressed Sean's arm further back, slightly, and then more, to a 45 degree angle. That caught him by surprise.
"Kid's been hitting the weight room," he grunted, doing a good job at keeping his knuckles hovering over the table top.
"Fuck yes I have," I grunted through gritted teeth. Adrenaline was rushing through my body. I wanted this. Finally, the knot of Sean's bicep swelled just before it relaxed enough to let me pin his hand to the table.
The guys hollered, a few slapping me on my sweaty back as I held Sean's gaze with my own. Sean gave me a conciliatory nod as he shook his arm out a second and brought it back up for the next round.
I readied myself, but not as well as Sean. He got his mission focus and that calm look on his rugged face. I didn't lose as bad as the first round, but I lost all the same. After a few seconds of me holding him off, he slowly began to grind me down, pushing my hand gradually down to the table, almost like he was toying with me. There was no audible sound, just a tap of my knuckle to the warm surface that let me know my defeat. Somehow my arm felt extra limp.
The guys cheered as Sean stood up. He looked beside himself while he kept his stare frozen on me. A clearly visible boner tented his camouflage trousers, though my gaze was equally on his magnificent body - ripped and bulked out at the same time. He slowly walked around the table, dogtags jostling, strutting as he unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his fly. I scooted my chair back, looking up at Sean's 6'5" as he took a seat on the table in front of me
"A bet's a bet, Jimmy," he growled, reaching into his open fatigues and pulling out his beautifully thick seven-inch erection, which was already steel hard in his fist. He let it go and gripped the tabletop at his sides, letting his cock bounce up straight in the air. The veiny shaft and the swollen purple-pink head looked even bigger than I remembered.
The space inside the tent quieted, and all the NCOs were now looking at us. I had a flash of concern sucking him off in front of his buddies, but I didn't want to go back on the bet. I looked up at Sean, to get some encouragement but he just looked down at me with silent expectation, his prick no longer bobbing but standing ramrod rigid.
I leaned in and held onto his massive thighs through his fatigues. The bulk of muscle felt rock hard beneath the heavy fabric as I slid my hands up his legs, until I finally wrapped my left hand around the base of his shaft. It was hot to touch. Sean gave an almost imperceptible nod while I gave him a slow stroke and twisted my grip just under the flared head. There were whispered orders around me, telling me suck him, give the Sergeant Major his prize, he won it fair-and-square.
I nodded gamely and wetted my lips. I tugged on the shaft, angling the tip to my mouth, then I leaned forward to lick up the underside of the steel-hard shaft. Sean's cock was salty and hot, but its firmness and the hard ridge of it made it feel almost like a dildo as much as a real dick. I finally wrapped my tongue around the head, giving it a soft kiss before slipping my lips around the flared edge.
I heard a couple of the guys holler while I went down on Sean and started slow sensual bobs, up and down, before working into deeper, steadier mouth strokes. Finally I'd warmed up enough to relax my throat. When the head of Sean's cock hit the back of my mouth, I now swallowed him down, feeling more inches slid into my gullet. Sean watched, stone-faced, as I took more of that dick into my throat, until my nose and chin were pressed into his pubes. I could feel Sean's quads tense in my hands, and the noise of the crowd got louder.
"Carter is one lucky son-of-a-bitch!" one NCO said.
I pulled off his cock, which cleared the snugness of my throat before tumbling from my mouth. My eyes were watery, and I caught my breath for a second. Sean's cock was still rock-hard and wet with a thick coat of spit. I looked up at the man, his eyes still hidden behind his shades as he nodded down at me. I wiped my eyes and mouth with the back of my hand before bringing his dick back to my lips, sucking him back into my warm mouth. I wanted to do Sean well.
But somewhere along the way, my hitting coach from the minor league team was sitting next to me. He was somehow dressed in a Virginia athletic staff uniform - logoed polo, gray slacks and ball cap. He was so close to the action, getting a front row seat. Really fucking close. Watching us. If Sean noticed him, there was no indication. I just continued my work, bobbing on that Soldier dick that stretched my lips more and more as I gripped Sean's fatigue pants still at his waist.
Coach Brady, though, was talking in detail about my approach at the plate, breaking down each of my recent at-bats and telling me how I could improve. All while I sucked Sean, who just sat back against the table, legs slightly spread and letting me do the work.
My head was forward, my eyes directed to Sean's hairy crotch as I blew him. But I could also notice Brady's powerful arms, his biceps even more massive than his normal veteran player build.
I had a hard time focusing on that task and also listening to Coach. But finally I heard Coach Brady say in a more hushed tone, "He's getting pretty close, McGrath... finish him off."
That's when I did the trick that Sean liked. I let the flared head slip back into my tightening throat, only to pull him right back into my mouth. I swallowed him again, then pulled back, letting him ride back and forth, in and out, over the tight ridge of my gulping throat entrance. My man wasn't verbal now, but I felt his body tense. His bare chest tightened, then his neck and abs. I sucked harder, picking up the pace once I felt his shaft swell, pulling the head back into mouth just before he grunted and spurted his heavy cum onto my tongue, saltier from his time in the desert. Bracingly salty, but I still loved tasting him. I now stroked the base, milking the man for his load as he huffed above me.
As his cock slowed to a dibble, he gave me a pat on the head as he pulled back. I had a front-row view of his now rubbery cock pulling back inches from me, with strands of thick spit keeping us connected a second longer. Sean tucked that beautiful dick back in and buttoned up his fatigues. There was a bunch of announcement sounds, or maybe it was the NCOs talking. "Gotta go, Hot Stuff," Sean announced.
I tried to see where he was going, but Coach Brady was already standing up, moving into Sean's spot in front of me and pulling out a fat six inch dick from his gray uniform pants. Keith Brady wasn't the kind of man I'd ever paid attention to sexually, but he had that baseball veteran masculinity that had aged well in his early 50s. Graying hair, gray goatee, meaty chest and thick arms. Suddenly, yeah, I wanted to suck him.
He grinned down at me as I took his cock in my fist, sizing it up briefly before bringing the head to my lips. He blasted off too quick, though, almost immediately shooting bitter cum into my mouth once I went down on him. It was hot, but also frustrating. He pulled his prick from my mouth with a feel of urgency. As Coach stepped back and muttered a thanks, I wanted someone to take care of my own aching hardon.
I stood up, and I was now somehow, completely naked, my prick sticking straight up. The tent was empty now that Coach Brady had disappeared out of my peripheral vision. Just then I felt a man behind me, strong arms circling my now bare chest, hands palming my pecs. Sensual, caressing touch. He pulled me back into him as I felt a familiar barrel chest press into me, along with a noticeably hard bulge.
"I'll take care of you, Jimbo," came the deep paternal voice. It was Dad, and I could smell his cologne and feel his breath on my neck. I noticed the short sleeves of a familiar khaki Navy uniform, the feel of uniform ribbons and medals against the bare skin on my back. His hair-dusted hands traveled further down my abs, and further, toward my fat hardon.
"Please," I muttered and leaned back into his embrace. As I turned my head to look at him, just as his fingertips traced over the top of my boner, a loud jolt woke me up.
It was my alarm clock. It disoriented me and it took me a second to even realize I was awake and out of my dream world. I reached over and hit snooze to stop the loud beep, if just for the next 10 minutes. It was 6 a.m. I stayed in bed another few minutes then rolled over to finally turn off the alarm and turn on my lamp.
I fell back into my sheets, lying on my back as I stared up at the ceiling. I was hard in my boxer briefs, my prick leaking and pinned down across my hip, confined in the strained fabric. I reached down with my left hand, gently caressing my shaft through the stretched cotton with just my fingertips. I didn't feel like taking care of my morning wood. I just wanted to remember the dream this time, so I closed my eyes and focused on the still fresh details, reliving all of it. Maybe because it was a substitute for having Sean with me in person, I felt this was the second-best thing. I opened my eyes and let go of my dick. My heart still raced some, and I realized my body's adrenaline rush was real as it took a minute for it to die down.
I was still making the shift from the later hours of minor league baseball to the earlier hours of being back home. Some of it was Dad, who was up and at 'em early most mornings, in true military fashion. But mostly it was my determination to stay in top conditioning through the off season. I usually got my gym workouts in after I finished my shift at the sporting goods store where I had my seasonal job for another year. Which left early mornings for my conditioning runs.
I got out of bed, my morning wood relaxing some as I got naked and slipped on my running briefs and shorts, then a long-sleeve athletic shirt since the mornings had been cooler that week. I laced up my sneakers and did some light stretches before heading downstairs.
Dad was already up and reading his newspaper at the dining room table when I walked in. I decided I'd never get sick of seeing him dressed in his khaki service uniform - the same one in my dream. It was a normal part of my life from growing up the kid of a Naval officer, and yet the uniform always made Dad look handsome as fuck, even more than he usually did. I loved the way the top of his khaki shirt was left unbuttoned, noticing how the white crew undershirt hinted at how it stretched across his broad chest. All of it covered with ribbons and awards chronicling his career, and finally, the silver eagle insignia on the lapel of his collar designating his rank of US Navy Captain.
His officer haircut was in its shorter summer length, with the thick, dark-brown hair still long enough for Dad to part neatly to one side. Unlike Sean's sharp, buzzcut fade along his sides and back, Dad's still had some length that let his hair lay against his scalp, and the gray hairs show in his temples more fully, the silver offset by his deeper tan. I don't know if it was his time at sea, but his older, muscular body looked trimmer these days.
"Morning, Jimbo," he said, looking up at me, his khaki colored combination cap next to him on the table top. I wished I hadn't had that sex dream just then, because it had keyed me up and made me perv on Dad more than normal. "Going for a run?"
"Yeah," I said. "Uncle Mike has me on a conditioning plan." Dad's younger brother often gave me advice for my baseball career, and lately in our phone conversations he'd stressed how important off seasons were.
Dad gave a soft laugh. "I bet he does."
It was surreal having this normal conversation with Dad when just a moment ago he'd made an appearance in my sex dream. But I was back in reality now.
We made small talk about our plans for the day as I stretched just a little more before telling him I'd see him later that evening. Then I was out the door.
It took me about five minutes into my run before my head was fully awake and out of the mindfuck of my night's dream.
*****
My first minor league off season had been a lonely time, and for much of the previous fall, I was a little down being back to Norfolk, like I was biding my time. This year was a lot better. Having Dad around this time made the house feel less lonely, and I'd reconnected with my old teammate Ryan, when I ran into him at the gym I went to. He was a year younger than me when we'd played in high school, and he'd moved back to Norfolk recently after college. We had grown apart some, but it was good to have a workout buddy and someone to hang out with on the weekends. I'd missed that.
My old boss from last year offered me a job at the sporting goods shop again, with more hours. Given my business degree, I'd be helping out more in the office when foot traffic was quiet. Not doing the real accounting, but maintaining their QuickBooks and tracking paperwork and invoices. It wasn't glamorous work, but gave me some more variety than just standing around the shop. And it would justify me staying on past the holiday season.
By the end of September, I'd settled into a good routine - early morning runs, work, gym, then come home, where I'd scarf down a quick dinner, though sometimes Dad would fire up the grill to make us something. Weeknights generally had me and Dad watching baseball, while on most weekend nights I hung out with Ryan.
Dad spent one of those weekends going up to DC to see Jack. I was getting used to the fact of Dad dating, and dating Jack no less. The two seemed low-key about it, and Dad and I didn't talk much about their relationship beyond the basics. But he seemed happier, and I felt glad for him.
The only dark cloud at that time in my life was having Sean deployed. It sucked in a major way. Not that I was able to see him too often when he was home, but the distance felt palpable now. Mostly, I worried for him. I got into a good rhythm of emailing the man first thing every day after my morning runs, sometimes a quick hello to let him know I was thinking of him, and sometimes a longer emailed message. I knew not to put in anything that hinted at our relationship, but it felt nice to keep the connection and let Sean know I was thinking about him. I didn't know anything about his mission there, but I was glad when there was enough downtime for him to email me back fairly regularly.
The hard part was seeing the news. I guess I didn't really watch TV news or keep up with current events, but Dad did. Even more so now that the war was ongoing, just seeing the nightly news reports, with the equally nightly reports of casualties, were starting to fill me with a deep dread.
"Dad." I finally spoke up from where I was seated on the living room sofa, looking over at my father in his recliner. "OK if we don't watch this?"
I tried to ask respectfully. I mean, I wasn't going to tell my father what he could watch in his own home. But he immediately recognized the emotion in my voice. He picked up the remote and turned off the TV then turned to me, his gray eyes showing that parental concern I remember growing up.
"I should have realized, Jim," he said softly. "You doing OK?"
I nodded. I didn't want to get emotional, especially not in front of Dad for some reason. "Yeah, I'm all right, but it's tough."
He gave a soft sigh and nodded. "You want to talk about it?" he asked.
I didn't. Maybe I should have, but I knew I had to keep things bottled up. Part of it was not wanting to lose it, or start crying. Part of it was that I still felt self-conscious talking about my dating life with Dad. But it was also the superstitious part of me that worried that vocalizing my fears would make them come true. Sean was brave as hell, and I thought I should try my best not to be afraid for him.
"I think I'll just go to my room for a bit, OK?" I asked.
"Of course," Dad replied as he sat back and watched me get up. He had a good poker face, and I couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. Whether he wished I'd talk about this or just felt it was his role as my father to check in with me.
I needed to be alone, then, though. I lay on my bed, on my back and staring up at the ceiling as I clutched a pillow. I tried not to let my mind wander to thinking about worst case scenarios, so I thought about baseball, trying to visualize the times I'd enjoyed this last year and wondering what some of the guys on the team were up to now. At some point my eyes might have closed as I dozed off.
It helped. A couple hours later, I came down and scavenged some dinner before joining Dad back in the living room to watch some evening baseball. The Orioles were ending a mediocre late season with a lousy series with the Blue Jays.
"Jesus," I said as I walked in during the third inning just in time to see Toronto score. I took my seat back on the couch next to Dad's recliner.
"Don't know why I watch," Dad said.
"You always did watch to the bitter end," I observed. That's one thing I respected about my father. He wasn't a fair-weather fan. He just felt compelled to follow the team even if the playoff hopes were over.
Dad chuckled. "It used to not be so bitter," he said. He muted the game and turned toward me. "Sure you're OK, Slugger?" He asked with genuine concern in his baritone voice. The end of our last conversation still lingered in the air.
I nodded. "Yeah. It just hits me sometimes, you know?"
"I do," he said. He looked at me, hesitant, like he wasn't sure if he should say what he was going to say next. "You know, when I was deployed, and you guys were young, I loved getting a package from home. There's something about the physical object in addition to the thought behind it."
Mostly, I just wanted to forget about Sean's deployment and get lost in some lousy Orioles baseball. But Dad's suggestion was a good one. "I'll do that," I said.
Dad wasn't going to push me, but he added, "It turns out Jack is being sent overseas. He's being sent to the Gulf for an extended project." Jack had more of a logistics role in the Navy, so I wasn't sure how exposed he'd be to the action. But still, it was close enough.
"Oh," I said. "For how long?"
Dad shrugged. His countenance was stoic. I knew he cared for Jack, but the tone was almost like this was one of his Naval briefings. "Probably through the year."
"Sorry, Dad," I said. "That's tough." I felt selfish now, realizing Dad had been wanting to share this news with me and here I was, closing him off. "I guess I've been pretty self-absorbed."
Dad shook his head. "You got a lot on your mind, Jim. No sin in that."
Dad turned the TV sound back on. We sat quietly, watching the game some as we let the mood settle. Then Dad spoke up again. "You have Thursday off, right?" I worked Saturdays and Sundays, so Wednesday and Thursdays ended up being my "weekend."
"Yeah," I replied.
"What do you think of going up? You know, catch a game?"
He didn't have to specify. I knew he meant to Baltimore. "You serious?" I asked. Dad was the type of man who planned everything out, often months in advance. Maybe you don't get far in the military without having that personality type, or maybe the military just instills it. And Thursday was just a couple of days away. I almost thought he was joking.
He finally cracked a smile. "Serious, Jimbo. It's been a long time since we've been to Camden Yards. Just you and me."
I tried to think of some reason I couldn't go, but honestly it sounded like a fun getaway from my new off-season routine and from waiting for an email from Sean. "Yeah, let's do it."
*****
The next day I went shopping at the Navy Exchange on base with Dad for a few items that I thought would at least give Sean a taste of home, just some snacks, cookies, beef jerky, gum, that sort of thing. Dad suggested I pick up more practical items - sunblock, chapstick, extra socks. I remembered Sean's brand of razor blades, so I picked up a couple of packs of them. I got two copies of a crime novel Dad recommended. I finally grabbed some pre-workout supplement and added it to the cart.
Later that day, I boxed everything up and took the package to the post office to ship. It might take a while for Sean to get it, but at least he'd know I was thinking of him.
*****
I returned from Baltimore to find an email from Sean waiting for me.
"From: [email protected]
Sent: Sept 28, 2007
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Baltimore Trip
Dear Jim,
I have a little down time at last. Thanks for the daily emails. I love them as always. Keep ‘em comin'. Glad your Orioles won. Hope you enjoyed the ball game with your dad. I could use a beer and a relaxing afternoon in Camden Yards right now. We're limited to three a weekend on base.
As for me, glad to report that the 82nd is kicking ass and taking names. The heat is something else, though. I told Kevin that I got to see the Euphrates again, not since Desert Storm. You mentioned that you and your dad saw ruins in Mexico. Well, there are a ton here I wish you could see. I'll have pictures to share when I get back. You do make an old Soldier miss home a lot more than usual.
Let me know if you're free for a video call in the next couple of days. Take care.
Sean J. Carter
CSM, U.S. Army
82nd Infantry Division"
I savored his email, reading it a few times. Then I quickly emailed back and let him know my work hours. Over the next few days, we set up a time.
Considering the 7-hour time difference, I got up extra early and slipped on some comfortable casual clothes Saturday morning before work to log on to my computer. The video connection took a few moments to establish, and there was a sound lag at times, but I got the thrill of seeing Sean Carter on the screen, his image a bit pixelated. He seemed to be in some tent, and he sat facing the screen, his wide, round shoulders and muscle filling out his coyote brown colored uniform T-shirt. His buzzcut seemed fresh, framing his tanned handsome face. Even though the low quality, I could see the silver flecks at his temples and the darkness of his 5 o'clock shadow he had, no matter how often he shaved.
Sean smiled on the screen in front of me, looking irresistible. I wished he were here, as I felt the heavy urge to kiss him so hard. I had this fear that I forgot just how his mouth tasted. I wanted to tell him how much I missed him, but I knew I had to keep our relationship in check.
"Hey Jimmy," he said, his voice clearly conveying more than he said.
"Hi Sean," I greeted. "God, it's good to see you," I added. I knew we couldn't talk in any way that seemed overly intimate or out of the ordinary. But I could tell him that much.
"You, too, man...." He paused, and god, I don't know how much of the look he had on his face was emotion at missing me, and how much of it was pure lust. I'd take either, really. "Nice room," he said with a grin.
I gave a laugh and looked behind me. I realized Sean had never seen the house where I grew up or my bedroom at home.
"I guess it still looks like some high school kid's," I said. There were sports trophies and a baseball poster visible behind me.
He laughed. "How's life in Norfolk? From your emails it sounds like you're keeping pretty busy."
"Pretty much," I said. "Work, hanging out with my buddy, Ryan, and hitting the gym."
When I mentioned working out with a buddy, Sean gave a subtly flirty look and an almost imperceptible wink. I chuckled. I had a good idea of what he was thinking.
"Well, keep the emails coming," he said. "Gets boring as shit sometimes waiting on these Generals to make up their mind," he added, giving me a half-cocked smile.
"You all got some down time lately?" I asked. I knew not to pry. There was operational security after all, but I wanted to know he was doing okay.
He nodded. "For now. Might not last long." He gave a forced grin and reflected, letting me know with a look that that was all he could say. "You enjoy it while you can."
I felt elated to be talking to Sean again, but my own emotions and worry for the man were bubbling beneath the surface. "Well... I'm thinking about you, Sean."
He gave a nod. "I think about you, too, Jim. Miss ya, Big Guy." He gave a look around the tent, like someone was asking for him. "I should probably sign off. But it's great to see ya." His eyes looked sorry for the fact that he had to go. Maybe he'd expected a longer video call.
"You, too, Sean," I said.
"I'll be in touch." He gave a final wave as I could see the military demeanor roll back over his face, and then the "DISCONNECTED" notice appeared on screen, signaling that the connection had ended.
I felt relieved, and thrilled, and kind of down all at once. I closed my laptop and just savored that connection I had with Sean. I still had no idea what was in store for us as a couple long-term. But I knew I was going to be there for him, long-distance, if it helped him.
It was dark out still. Dad was probably up, but the house was pretty quiet. I leaned back in my desk chair, pulling up my loose t-shirt and running my hands down my lower abs and beneath my athletic shorts. Looking down, I could see my dick grow firmer and form a mound. I decided to slide off my shorts. My morning wood was returning now, charged up from seeing Sean's hunky body, and I could see the fat ridge of my prick tenting up my boxer briefs. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and slid those down, too.
I stood up and pulled my t-shirt off over my head, my freed boner now pulsing into full erection, bobbing with weight as I kicked off my shorts and briefs, tossing my shirt across my bed, leaving me completely naked. I took my cock in hand, softly stroking as I walked over to my nightstand to get some lube. I'd been jacking off a lot more since getting home. That was one advantage of the freedom of off-season. No roommates and plenty of privacy. Plus, my libido was super spiked lately, and even more so after seeing Sean.
I held my cock out in my open palm and dribbled some clear liquid down the length of my hardon. I lubed it up and set the small bottle aside then got back into bed. It felt great to feel my left fist wrap around my 8-inch meat. I wished it was Sean's hand. Or his mouth. Or his ass. I tugged up my length in slow gentle motions. I'd been experimenting with different strokes. Maybe I'd try them out on Sean to see if he enjoyed any. We'd probably never be content with just a handjob, and it was one thing I felt I couldn't do well with him when I'd tried it. I just didn't have the touch that he was used to on his dick.
Often, I let fantasies meld when I masturbate. But at that moment, I pictured Command Sergeant Major Sean Carter, clear as day. I didn't even need to shut my eyes to summon him mentally and visually. It was like he was in my room, just like he'd been on screen moments ago. That coyote brown T-shirt clinging obscenely tight to his shoulders and pecs, showing off the rounded upper arm muscle. I imagined him naked from the waist down, that beautiful Soldier cock standing up and ready. Dripping in horniness.
My altered stroke technique gave way to my tried and true grip. I liked to ride the top half of my boner with my lubed palm, applying some gentle pressure with my wrapped fingers. Fast, but not too fast.
I wanted to fuck Sean Carter in just that Army uniform T. I wanted him to feel the thickness of my cock boring in firmly with each thrust. I wanted to kiss him while being buried deep inside his ass.
I came. The load was heavier than I anticipated and I felt its heat land on my neck and upper chest.
"Fuck!" I hissed, enjoying the sweet relief. I looked down at the mess I'd made and had to laugh at how horny I'd been. I relaxed a second then reached down for my discarded underwear on the floor to clean up my cum, then slipped out of bed a second time. I wasn't late, but had to get ready for work now - shower, get dressed, and have breakfast.
I was in a good mood that day.
*****
Hearing Sean's voice helped me deal with his absence. I still worried about him, but he was back to emailing daily. He still didn't know when his next Leave would be. But still, I had told my work in advance that I wanted the first weekend in December off, just in case Sean made it back for the Army-Navy game. He'd floated the idea before, though now, it was looking less likely. "Maybe Christmas, maybe after. Sorry I can't promise anything," he wrote as he described his next possible leave. I didn't push him about when he was coming back, but he brought it up. I think he was missing home, though he never said so directly.
As the weeks wore on without Sean's presence, I found myself still thinking through my hookup experience in Savannah. I decided I was really glad I'd finally taken advantage of the open policy Sean had insisted on in our dating, and I knew that I'd do it again if and when the circumstances felt right. Deep down, I wondered if I was just selling myself on the idea to fit into what Sean wanted. However, I was coming to see he was right in some of this. We had a very removed long-distance relationship. Who knows if sex with other men helped us, but it didn't take away from our physical connection when we had the chance to be together.
The first weekend in October, I decided to feel out the hookup website for the first time in a long while. Dad had gone up to DC to visit Jack for a long weekend one last time before he was sent overseas. Thursday was my day off, and I had considered spending the evening edging up in my room and watching some of my rebuilt porn stash, a luxury I hadn't been able to indulge in during baseball season.
But as I scrolled through my porn sites, curiosity finally overcame me. Sitting naked at my desk with my laptop, I opened up the hookup website where I had the dormant profile. It took me a minute to remember my password even, but pretty soon I had the site up.
I opened my profile. It had been three years since I'd used it. The age had updated but everything else was the same as I'd left it.
Age: 24, Height: 6'3", Eyes: Blue, Hair: Blonde, Build: Muscle Jock. The shirtless mirror selfie was me, but I was bigger now and my blond body hair was thicker. Still, I wasn't in the mood to update the profile just yet. I told myself I was mostly looking.
I left everything be and let the website bring up that familiar list of profiles. Seeing the menu of men, it seemed easy, but in reality I knew it wasn't. Norfolk wasn't a big city, and even if it were, there was probably a high proportion of guys to watch out for. Freaks or flaky men - I don't know, I remember the times before that didn't work out. I was just here to look and imagine, I told myself.
I scrolled through the profiles and enjoyed seeing the semi naked and even naked photos. Some guys really put it all out there.
I was softly stroking my half-hard cock and browsing when a direct message came through. "Hey, nice chest."
I don't know why I was receptive, maybe it was the flattery, but I typed back. "Old pic. My body is even better now."
A slight delay, then came the reply. "First time I've seen a guy say the old pics aren't as good. Hell, you're the first guy I've seen to admit the pics are old."
I had to laugh. I knew what he meant. "I try to be honest," I typed back. I wanted to flirt some, but I realized that earnest was my best approach. But I was also intrigued by his profile - no face pic, but he had a great older body from the shirtless pic of him in a hotel bathroom. He had that still-fit, mid-to-late 40s look to him. His arms and chest looked muscled, with just a certain thickness to his middle that I was finding appealing. Kind of a dad-next-door. "You have a nice chest, too," I wrote back.
"Thanks, man. I try not to get on here too much but I'm in town for work. Couldn't resist."
I opened his profile and read that he was 49, married, and looking for discreet. Maybe I should have been more bothered by that, but there was a definite safety to married men when it came to protecting my own baseball career. Part of me wanted to wait for him to make the move. Part of me still told myself I was just looking, nothing serious. But I reached down and pawed at my crotch a second before typing. "You looking for anything in particular?"
It was all a strange song and dance, sussing out mutual sexual interest like this. But I was realizing that the approach of some guys just clicked and some didn't. This guy was clicking for me. Interested in me, but not coming on too strong.
"Depends. Normally I find a JO buddy, into oral with the right guy."
I was hard now. I decided to unlock my private picture. The dick pic. "I don't know if I'd be the right guy," I wrote back. I hoped to god it sounded flirty rather than begging.
"Fuck yes," came the almost immediate reply. "I'd DEFINITELY love to suck that."
He unlocked his own pics. He had a nice cut tool that stuck up at a slight angle erect. He was average width and length.
"Nice," I replied. Then, "you up for meeting? I don't think I can host." I could, I supposed, but I didn't feel comfortable about having some guy come over to the house.
"Oh yeah. I can host." He listed a business hotel on the other side of downtown Norfolk. I replied I could be there in about 20 minutes if he wanted. Or anytime that evening.
"20 minutes is great," came the reply. "Fuck, I'm horny."
"Me too."
I wrote down the room number then told him I'd see him soon. And I logged off.
This was wild. I didn't even know what he looked like, really, nor he me. But I guess our cocks were the language of communication. Maybe it wouldn't work out, and if so, that was OK. I quickly slipped on a long-sleeve and some sweats, and I was out the door.
Twenty minutes later, an average looking man answered the hotel room door, dressed in a business looking light-blue button down and dark-gray slacks. The top of his shirt unbuttoned, as it looked like he'd had on a tie just moments before. And on his left hand, a gold wedding band. He was slightly shorter than I was, and his thinning brown hair was shaved close to his head. He had blue eyes and a trimmed goatee that showed flecks of gray. His pics hadn't lied exactly, he looked 49, just like his profile said, but I was pleasantly surprised by how well he fit the "daddy" box. I realized immediately that, yeah, I could get into this
"Hey," he said. I could tell the guy was equally surprised at seeing what I looked like in person and happy with my looks.
"You certainly were being honest. Those pics don't do you justice," he said as his eyes raked up and down my body. God, there was something fun and easygoing about this guy. His vibe reminded me of the Navy vet, Brian, I hooked up with a couple of times, though this man didn't give off military vibes, more a businessman type.
"Thanks," I said. Then with a grin, I peeled my long-sleeve T up over my body to reveal my naked torso. My blond fur was starting to come in more, but I knew this guy still had a good view of my younger, athletic muscle.
"Fuck," he hissed, stepping up toward me. His eyes didn't want to seem to come up from my body, but he looked at me and asked, "Ok if I touch?"
"Go ahead," I said, a reassuring grin finally giving way to a look of excitement as his hands reached up and palmed my chest, groping my muscles as his fingers traveled down to my abs. This was the one time during the hookup that I felt guilty about this, my mind flashing to Sean before I returned to the moment. Despite that flash of doubt, it did feel real nice to have an older man caress my body. The man's fingers were almost teasingly soft in their touch as they glided over my chest muscle then onto my knotted shoulders and arms.
"Can I see you, too?" I asked.
He looked at me. That surprised him. I guess he thought I was out of his league. But he complied, undoing his button down shirt and revealing his furry, thickly built chest. He didn't have a porn body, not even quite the gym toned body of Chris, my Savannah hook up. But he was real and exuded a hot older businessman energy. My fingers touched his hairy stomach and worked their ways up his thick build.
"What's your deal?" he asked. "Straight? Gay?"
"I have a girlfriend," I lied, thinking it would put him at ease. "But I love fooling around with another guy."
"Cool," he said, visibly reassured by my answer. "I guess you didn't come over for chit chat huh?"
I didn't reply, but I dropped my hands and stepped back. His eyes watched me slip my thumbs into the waistband of my sweatpants and started pushing them down off my hip. I was glad I'd worn them instead of jeans, since they slid easily down my thighs. I'd gone commando and my hard on stuck up, ready to go.
Almost immediately, this guy's fingers wrapped around it. "Goddamn, that's a beautiful dick."
"Thanks." I said dumbly. His touch felt great.
The man seemed to be examining my prick with his fingers and his gaze, like he was trying to estimate the exact dimensions. Then he crouched down onto his knees, still in just his slacks and open shirt.
His fingers circled my thick prick and pulled it to his lips. There were no initial licks or kisses. Instead, he immediately sucked me into his mouth, diving right in with a low moan. I let out a moan of my own and watched the way my fat meat stretched his lips, just under his goatee. He slurped up just under half, his hand stroking the remaining inches, but realized my girth was a bit of a challenge for him. The first sucks felt nice. Then he got deeper onto my bone and tried to open his jaw. Rather than slow him down, my size seemed to drive him wild. He sucked faster and harder while he blew me.
I placed one hand on the side of his head, gently, just around his ear. He looked up at me, bearded mouth stuffed with cock as he sucked, his blue eyes looking glassy as they watered. "Ease up, man," I urged. It was too much suction and felt uncomfortable.
Slowly, he spit out my cock. It dripped with excess spit, but was still hard as a rock as it bobbed in the space in front his face. "Sorry," he said, catching his breath. "You're a mouthful."
"I know," I said, contritely. I loved the excitement my dick size could elicit in men, but I felt bad at times like this when guys had a hard time with it. "Just go easier. You were doing great."
That seemed to calm the man and he resumed his task. I wrapped my hands gently around the back of his head and neck and wondered how many men he sucked. He said he didn't do this often. Maybe that was the truth, maybe it was a lie. I imagined both scenarios and got turned on. He was masculine in his own way, and I enjoyed seeing him work hard to give me head, his face turning redder and his moans louder around my cock.
"I'm getting close!" I urged. Somehow he was bringing me off quickly now. His hands touched my thighs then gripped my quad muscle to hold himself steady as he worked me more fully, sucking hard as he pulled off with each bob of his mouth. He wanted my load.
My hands clung to his head. Not trying to get forceful, I still enjoyed holding his skull while I gave it up. I shot several heavy cum jets into his mouth and throat.
I'd not even been in his hotel room five minutes and this guy whose name I didn't know had gotten me off really fucking well. I gave him another pat then stepped back, extracting my spent prick from his spit-wet mouth. He followed to get the last dribbles, then seemed grateful for the fresh air.
"Can I suck you?" I asked. Being with other men, including Sean, I realized not everyone was eager to suck after cumming, but I liked it, actually.
"For real?" he asked, still on his knees as he wiped his mouth.
"Yeah," I said, bending down to pull my sweats back up around my waist, but still leaving my half-hard cock out. "If you want."
Red faced, he stood back up and started undoing his khakis. "OK if I lie back on the bed?" he asked sheepishly. "I usually cum better that way."
"Yep," I replied. I watched him shuck his pants and underwear, freeing the boner I'd seen online. There was that slight curve. His balls were shaved smooth but otherwise the dick looked exactly like I'd seen.
The man lay back and I knelt down by the bed, between his spread legs.
I felt his heavy legs up, but I didn't waste time. Leaning forward I took him into my mouth and started sucking. He wasn't gonna get the full Bulldozer, but he was going to get some good head. I hummed around his shaft and wrapped my tongue around the head while I sucked him deeper with each bob, not quite letting him into my throat.
"Shit!" he gasped. I felt his hand in hair, fingers in my curls as he held to my skull. "Fuck, that's nice. Keep sucking man... I'm not gonna take long like this.... oh fuck... oh FUUUCK!"
His body trembled right before I felt, then tasted, the brininess of his seed on the back of my tongue. His spurts were heavy too, and I swallowed each in succession. He finally pushed me off him, gently, his dick now too sensitive. I gave his leg a pat when I pulled back completely, my lips wet with spit and cum.
"Good?" I asked. Proud of my ability.
He nodded, a dreamy look in his face. "The best. I was NOT expecting that."
I stood up, pulling my sweats back up over my now soft cock. "Keep it between us, OK?" I asked. He had every reason for discretion but it felt worth double checking.
"Oh yeah, absolutely," he said. He was regaining the energy to get fully dressed once more as I bent down to pick up my T shirt and turn it right side in before slipping it back on.
He walked me to the room door. "Maybe this goes against the etiquette," he said. "But any interest in a repeat sometime? I'm in Norfolk a few times a year."
"We'll see," I said noncommittally. I felt a lot better about this as a one-time thing, but I didn't want to shut down the idea entirely. "This was really hot, thanks. Just what I needed."
"Me, too." he said.
I paused at the door. It felt weird not to kiss during or after sex, but it didn't feel right in this instance. So I gave a nod before opening the door and walking out.
*****
I stayed noncommittal with the businessman but sent him a thank you message. Maybe we could hook up again, or not. He ended up being a really good at sucking dick, once he'd settled in.
I felt even less mixed in my emotions about that hookup than I had with Chris. It had been purely about getting my rocks off. And I knew if Sean were there, I'd have no need or desire to go to anyone else for sex. But fifteen months was a hell of a time apart. And we'd still be in different cities when he got back.
The sexual satisfaction had lasted me a couple of days, but because I didn't jerk off as much over the weekend and the week, my libido built up and came back to me. Part of the issue is that I went to visit my buddy Rick Bryant, who was going to law school at Duke. It was great to see him and party it up a little in Durham. His girlfriend, Courtney, was now living with him, and Rick seemed to be happy. But afterwards, I came back to a pretty busy couple of days at work and catching up on my missed workouts in the evenings.
I was zoning out on the couch one night when it all caught up to me. Dad and I were watching baseball. Other than the World Series, he used to never get invested in the playoffs unless the Orioles were in them. Maybe it was my professional playing, but now he was there watching with me, as the Diamondbacks faced the Rockies for the NLCS.
During the game we were watching, the broadcast kept cutting to shots of the D-Back's manager, Bob Melvin. I always thought he was a good looking man, and his strong silent personality seemed especially sexy as he looked sternly out on a game that was not going his way. I wondered what it would be like to have sex with a man like that. Mid 40s, ex-catcher, still very much in shape....
"You need to take care of that, Slugger?" I heard Dad ask, snapping me out of my reverie.
I looked over and he had an amused smirk on his face. It took me a second to realize what he was referring to, but then I looked down at my crotch, where I had an erection riding up in my shorts. I mean, a full-on fuck-ready hardon.
"Oh shit!" I responded, looking back up at Dad and blushing. "Sorry."
He chuckled. "It happens."
Part of me wanted to look at his crotch, but I restrained myself. My initial thought was I'd sit there and will myself to go soft and think of something besides sex and hot baseball managers. But I hadn't jerked off in a couple of days and had a good sense that my dick wasn't going down anytime soon.
"Yeah, maybe I'll go back to my room," I said as I stood up. I didn't aim to show off my hardon to Dad but my baseball shorts were thin and my prick is fat. Dad's eyes were on it, too. This was wild. When I least expected it, that mutual lust was building back between us.
I couldn't resist giving his shoulder a pat as I walked past him. feeling the warmth of his dense muscle beneath the T-shirt, even if briefly. I was thinking with my dick for sure.
Back in my room, I kicked off my shorts and peeled down the briefs I had on beneath. I was so horny I just figured I'd jerk off standing up in my room. I got some lube and the instant my left fist wrapped around my dong, I felt an instant wave of pleasure. Jerking off always felt good, but something about a masturbation session after skipping a day or two felt even better.
I didn't waste time, I just got into it. Nice, quick strokes that applied some pressure to maximize the friction. I looked down and watched my own hand work my fat prick, my lubed fingers stroking up the shaft and over the spongy head. I thought of Bob Melvin, I thought of Coach Weir, and I thought of Dad. I even thought of the recent married cocksucker and that football coach I hooked up with my last week in Charlottesville. They were all in the mix.
My body jerked and I watched heavy ropes of cum fly out, onto my desk and some pooling in the crux of my fist and dribbling down my hand. My body seized and hunched some as I rode the aftershocks. For a quick JO cum, it was a great orgasm.
I thought I'd feel embarrassed after my release. But Dad had seemed pretty laid back about it all. So I cleaned up my mess and put on my shorts again. I stopped by the bathroom to wash my hands and then walked back down the hall. I stopped to get a beer. My plan had been to skip the beer that night, but I felt good and relaxed, and the game had a few more innings left.
Dad wasn't in the living room when I got back to the couch, the game still on the TV. I sat back down at my place on the couch and worried for a second that I'd spooked him or upset him, but a minute later he walked back in. His normally stoic face was flush enough for me to know that he'd gone to his room to do pretty much what I did. That knowledge thrilled me, an extension of the naughty secret we had between us.
"Feel better, Slugger?" he asked as he sat on the couch next to me, forgoing his usual seat in his favorite recliner. His expression looked more relaxed than his demeanor usually allowed.
I loved that he was so nonchalant about this. "Yeah, pretty much," I replied, blushing and chuckling a little bit at how horny I'd been. "And you?" It was a cheeky thing to ask Dad, but I felt like I could.
"Yeah," he said. "Much better." Dad didn't have a flirty look on his face, but there was something knowing in his expression. Like he was glad we could be up front with one another. If it hadn't been for Sean or for Dad's thing with Jack, I would have asked him directly about it.
Maybe Dad was thinking the same thing. He gave me another deep look then turned his attention back to the game. It was another inning before Dad spoke again.
"So... Melvin does it for ya, huh?"
Now I felt embarrassed. Like I'd inadvertently shared something I shouldn't. "Come on, Dad," I sighed.
He reached over and patted my shoulder. Much like I'd patted his earlier. "Just teasing you, Jimbo. Like who you like."
*****
Tension is too strong a word. I mean, after that night, it wasn't like things were tense between me and Dad. But there was that elephant in the room again. Our sexual attraction to one another, that circumstances were bringing it out again.
That was making us keep some distance, until Sunday when Dad brought it up after dinner.
"You wanna talk about the other night, Jim?" he asked casually as we sat at the dinner table. He didn't use any of my nicknames. I felt like one of his junior ensigns with the way his tone seemed so nonchalant, yet straight to the point.
I looked up and caught his gray eyes. I'd actually been anticipating and low-key dreading this conversation. And I'd rehearsed what I was going to say. It came blurting out, even.
"Dad, I don't want you to think I don't respect you and Jack. I didn't mean for it to happen, and god... I guess I wasn't thinking."
Dad seemed surprised by my words and touched. "I appreciate that, Slugger," he said. "And I know you've been happy since you've met Sean. I'd feel awful if I interfered with that in any way."
It was always strange how Dad and I could talk so directly about our desire for each other, even if we also weren't yet spelling it out.
"You're not, Dad," I assured him. Maybe not entirely convinced of that, but confident enough. Even if Sean filled that dad-figure role sexually, he was a very different man than Dad, and he brought something very different to my life. "It just happened."
He seemed satisfied with that response. But his voice got quiet, and he added, "It's probably going to happen again." Not accusatory and not flirty. Just honest.
That took me aback. But he was right, I knew it. "Yeah, probably."
He actually chuckled. "We don't talk about it a lot, Slugger. I guess there's only so much to say."
I nodded. "You're really regretting what we did." Not a question because I was pretty sure Dad did.
But he surprised me. "Sometimes. But I figure we got to experience something special. And if I didn't want to do it, I could have said no."
"You did," I reminded him.
"Yes," he replied. "But I said yes more." He looked at me. It wasn't a lusty look but a "dad" look. "We OK, Jim?"
"Yeah," I sighed. "If you're not mad at me, then yeah."
*****
I took another trip that following Wednesday, going up to visit Holt and Scott, and Kyle Avery in Charlottesville. I hoped Dad didn't take it the wrong way, but I needed some space.
To his credit, Dad was Dad. Focused on his work at the base, and very much in normal mode around the house. It helped me feel normal again after we'd tiptoed around doing something inappropriate together. My hookups had felt compartmentalized in a way my attraction to Dad didn't.
Still, I was excited each time I got an email from Sean Carter. And excited to write one, whether in return to his or just a daily one.
I tried to do some version of what I did in letters I wrote as a kid when Dad was deployed, describing mundane details of my day-to-day life. I put it all in there: my boring day job, my lazy Saturdays watching baseball with my dad, my workout goals at the gym. I apologized to Sean in case I was boring him, but he replied that they helped him pass the time.
The best surprise I got was the morning I received one of those magical emails from Sean. Longer, more personal, it responded to a bunch of emails I'd sent him. And at the end came the kicker:
"I have some freedom to talk by phone on Friday. If you wanna."
Of course I wanted to. This may turn out to be a phone version of our brief video chat, but I had an idea that Sean Carter had phone sex on his mind. And of course that was on my mind, too.
I was nervous and horny when our appointed time came. Again, it was early morning, before my work shift and I was glad Dad had already left for base. Even with my room door shut, it just felt freer and more private. I lay in bed naked under my sheets, my cock half hard with anticipation. I clutched my phone, watching the time as I waited for Sean's call. The allotted time came, and I only had to wait a minute for my phone to ring with an unknown number. I quickly answered.
"Hello...?" I asked - excited, nervous, and emotional all at once.
"Hey Hot Stuff," came that deep Southern drawl on the other line.
"Sean. Man, it's great to hear your voice."
"Yours too, stud," he replied. I could hear a genuine happiness in his voice. "Missing ya like hell, buddy." His admission made me smile.
"I'm missing you, too, Sean. All the time." I didn't want to be sappy with the Soldier, but it was the truth.
"You're still having fun, right, Jim? A dude your age should have fun."
I wasn't sure if he was referencing having sex with other guys or just having some carefree time with friends. "I'm doing good, Sean. For real."
"I'm glad," he said.
"You doing OK, Sean?" I asked. Concern in my voice.
"It's been a bitch of a tour," he said. "Already. But I'm OK."
"God, Sean," I replied. I wanted to be brave and normal, but the reality of the situation never failed to hit me when I talked to him or got an email from him.
"I'm OK," he repeated. "For real, Jim." I wasn't sure if he was just trying to reassure me. But his voice shifted register. "I'd be even better if you could help me out now, you know."
"You know I will, Sean," I replied. I could feel the lewd grin forming on my face, and even without seeing him, I sensed Sean had one to match. I was naked in bed, and if my cock had softened in our talk, it was firming up again, fast.
"Good. I'm rock fucking hard now, Jim," Sean's voice a bit airy, even in its low rumble. The man was horny I could tell.
"I bet, sir," I hissed as I took my firming cock in my left hand. It had been a half year since our last phone sex session, but that ease and dynamic was coming right back, that facility for a mutually honed sex talk. "You're the horniest fucker I've ever met."
"Damn straight, Jimmy. And you're the second horniest fucker."
"How long you got to talk, sir?"
"Splurged on a nice long phone card," he said. "Enough time to get off twice."
"Fuck," I hissed. Very into the idea. I looked down at my fit naked body. I was now rock hard in my grasp. My 8-inch cock drooling fresh sap onto my slow, sliding fingers.
"Gonna get your Dad off twice, son?" Sean was slipping into the roleplay he knew I liked. The reference of course reminded me of my actual father, and I realized I enjoyed the way the incest fed back into my lust for Sean.
"Yessir, Dad." I grunted, biting my lip. My fingers curled around the plump head of my cock, gently choking it.
I didn't need to see Sean to know he was stroking his cock now. I could hear it in his deep, even breaths. "I recall that last time I saw ya, boy. You took my fucking cherry."
"God, Sean, that was incredible," I hissed. I arched my back, my body riding the pleasurable sensations in my cock. Maybe I was gonna be the one to cum before him. His words, and his baritone voice and his Southern drawl, were going straight to my balls.
"You liked that, boy? Like fucking your daddy?"
"Loved pounding away your cherry, sir. You were so tight." I was doing my best to take Sean's sexual wildness and channel it back to him.
"For you, buddy. Nice and tight Dad hole." Sean's words nearly brought me back to that Blacksburg hotel room again, watching his face as I slid into his virgin hole.
"Fuck!" I growled. My lust was short-circuiting my ability to form words.
Sean's breaths were getting heavier. "Wish you were here to do the honors again, Son. Fuck your Dad in some Army tent. Just some vaseline and sweat... before I lift your legs and return the favor. Right deep into your guts, son. Over and over, deep fuckin'..."
His words were losing coherence as he entered orgasm. I loved hearing another man come, and in particular the grunting sound of Sean climaxing was incredible to witness. As my own fist worked my cock, my balls pulled up tight against the base of my shaft, and my legs kicked against the sheets.
"Sean!" I gasped. My own dick spurted into my fist.
"That's it, Jimmy," he urged, taking long drags of air. No longer in orgasm but thrilled to hear me get off. "Let it all out, buddy. Show me what a big stud you are."
"Damn, Sean," I finally huffed, my balls done pumping out their load. Cum spattered my abs and chest, but I'd wipe up later. I relinquished my dick and let it jerk onto my belly. Still hard, knowing I'd try for a second. With Sean, if I didn't get to the finish line again with him on a second go, that was OK. For now, I was loving having sex with him, in this way we were able.
"Damn is right," he said, still catching his breath. "Give me a sec?" he asked. "I wanna go again. Meanwhile, tell me about this Ryan buddy you've been hanging out with. Is he hot?"
"Sean!" I objected.
"Just teasing ya... but you know a lonely Soldier enjoys thinking about some jock-on-jock action."
I laughed into the phone. It was one of those Sean Carter things to say. Lewd, crazy. But somehow persuasive. I decided to indulge him. "Well, he's a good looking guy. My age. Dark haired, 5'11", he's put on some muscle since high school..."
I didn't really go for Ryan. I had a type, and it wasn't him. But it was fun to describe him to Sean as if he were.
"I'd love you to watch as I licked up all that 23-year old muscle," I hissed.
"Dang, Jim.... you really gonna?" he asked. Surprised I was going to indulge his tossed-out fantasy.
"You don't want me to?" I teased. "I thought you were fucking horny."
"You have no idea how horny, bud... if you're up for it." I knew he was concerned about making our sexual talk about someone other than me.
But this was easy to do, and kind of fun. It was a hypothetical fantasy, and maybe this was a verbal extension of the threesome we had over the last Army-Navy game weekend. "I'm more than up for it, sir," I said. And proceeded to describe in detail the show I'd put on with Ryan for my Army boyfriend.
It didn't take long to work Sean up into another deep cum.
*****
The next day I got a quick email from Sean.
"Dang, I just got your package. Incredible surprise. Almost as nice as our last phone conversation. Miss ya, big guy."
*****
Then, I didn't hear from Sean. Three days in a row without email. Then four, then five. Then one week, then two.
I kept it bottled in. It's not like I had anyone to talk to. Ryan didn't know I was gay, much less that I was dating an Army man. I could call Holt, but while he could be supportive in a general way, he wasn't great at the emotional stuff. I couldn't blame him, since I wasn't either. The only person I'd normally talk to about something like this was Jack Grant, and circumstances now made that harder. Besides, he was halfway across the globe now.
Dad had asked me a few times if I wanted to talk about Sean's deployment, and how I was dealing with it. I'd withdrawn each time, but I wanted to see if the offer still stood. I needed to talk to someone.
So the next time I saw Dad in his study, I knocked on his door. It was a weeknight and I guess he had some work in the evening to do. Dad was reading over something at his desk, leaning back in his large chair, his single desk lamp on, still dressed in his casual, after-work attire of a loose button down and khakis. I stood in the doorway for a second, finally knocking before leaning against the door frame as I stuck my hands into the pockets of my athletic shorts.
"Hey Slugger, what is it?" he asked, looking up from his book.
I stepped in. "How's Jack?" I asked.
That caught Dad off guard. He took off his reading glasses and set down his report. "I heard from him yesterday. He's fine," he answered cautiously. "Why do you ask?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "All this time I've never asked how it is for you. You know, him being deployed. Sorry I didn't ask before."
I felt bad when I saw the look on Dad's face. Proud, emotional. "We know it's part of what we signed up for," my father said simply. I admired him for his realism and wished I had inherited that gene. Then he asked, "How about you? You doing OK?"
I tried to play it off like I wasn't worried. But I knew Dad could see through me. "Does it get easier?" I asked.
Dad shook his head, somber in his expression. "I've been more on the other side and in different circumstances, away from you, and your mother, and your brothers," he said. "You find ways to cope, but no, it doesn't get easy."
"OK," I said. Somehow that answer was more reassuring than some false optimism.
Dad nodded at the empty chair, silently urging me to sit. Whether I had been ready to talk about this, Dad knew I needed to.
"You're crazy about him, aren't you, Jimbo?" he asked softly.
"Yes," I said quietly, not wanting my emotions to overwhelm me. I knew Dad maybe wasn't the biggest fan of me dating Sean, so his gesture of support got to me.
And for the next half hour we talked. Mostly Dad let me talk. I told him how I hadn't heard from Sean and how I hated not knowing if he was OK or not. And how the worst was the radio silence after getting emails from him regularly.
Dad and I talked about what it was like for me when he deployed and we openly talked about the newer dangers of Sean's missions now and how things were different than with my father's naval deployments.
I told him about how I'd decided I was going to be optimistic and upbeat but that suppressing dark thoughts maybe made it worse.
Dad was measured in his responses. He didn't try to talk me out of feeling what I did or try to convince me things were going to be OK. For some reason I thought he would.
My eyes definitely got a little watery, but Dad's calm demeanor helped me be calmer.
Somewhere along the line, the talk about my insecurities with Sean's deployment shifted to our relationship. I probably told Dad more than I should, about my own insecurities about Sean's and my age gap, the difficulty of the long distance thing, and his slowness to commit. I even admitted the open arrangement Sean and I had going on. It just came pouring out. Yet Dad responded in the same measured way, not with his own biases, but rather as a friend, asking me how I felt about what I was telling him, or what I wanted out of a relationship. Honestly, it felt good letting it all out.
"I shouldn't be telling you all this," I finally said.
"You don't have to share what you don't want," Dad said. "But I told you my door is open, and I meant it."
I was grateful, but Dad had to know what I meant. "I'm pretty sure none of my brothers talks to you about their problems like this."
Dad chuckled, and I was grateful for the break of levity. "They talk about their problems in a different way. Actually, you've shut me out some, Jim. It's like you feel like I'll be upset if you share what's going on with you."
"I worry you're already not crazy about me dating Sean," I said. My admissions that evening weren't going to help Sean's case with Dad.
"It's your love life, Jim, not mine," he replied. "And I see what he means to you."
"But you're not happy I'm dating him," I clarified.
Dad sighed. "Let's just call me apprehensive. But I'm glad you've found someone, Jimbo. Honest."
I grimaced. I just hoped that Sean and I would stay a couple when he returned home. If he returned home. "I'll take that, Dad."
"You know," Dad said softly. "You and I have a bond your brothers don't have. Two people can't be as close as we are, and it not affect things."
I gulped. "Is this about the other week?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Not exactly. But I'm something more than just your dad now, I suppose. If you ever need to talk man-to-man, like this... I think we're both mature enough to handle it."
I never felt so grown up and so immature at the same time. "Yeah," I said. I really wished I was good at talking about things, like Dad. But I also knew he wasn't going to judge me for being me.
He nodded down at his desk. "Guess I'm not going to get much more work done tonight, am I?"
"No sir," I laughed. "Sorry."
"The report will be there tomorrow. What do you say we enjoy a beer on the patio? It's actually a nice night."
"Sounds great," I said. The seriousness of the conversation was dispelled. And I realized I was feeling a little better already.
