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After the Picnic

by Billyc


Jim, my dark-haired, light-eyed furry musclehunk attorney and I sat eating omelets ravenously and naked at the bar in his incredible magazine-dream kitchen. We’d worked up a major appetite over the previous several hours after meeting at a company picnic. He’d brought me home, and we’d sucked and I’d fucked his brains out, and over again a few times with a shower fuck thrown in between when we’d stunk so bad of our sex that it had gone from intoxicating to intolerable. We’d slept a few hours and awakened both hungry again for each other but more importantly for food, since neither of us had eaten much at the picnic. Food won out, and we’d quickly decided that going out for food was less appealing than “foraging” as he put it.

I had seen his kitchen briefly on the way into his house, but when we got out of the shower and he’d led me there I was blown away. It was like something you’d see in a magazine or on TV. Amazing marble or granite, stainless steel everywhere, vast and impressive. I’m no cook other than the basics, but damn it was a great-looking kitchen, and my studly companion looked damn competent moving around the work surfaces and handling the utensils and bowls and pans in his towel as he prepared the meal.

We both suddenly looked at each other when we heard what sounded like four successive pushes of a doorbell. “Is that your door?” I asked, grabbing for my own towel, which by then was hanging over the back of the high stool.

“No, it’s my driveway alarm, so we have a few moments to get to the bedroom.” And he took off that way.

What? Who? I wondered as I followed him through the house and again into the hallway beyond the door to his room and into one of the doors we’d passed before which I now knew was, in fact, a closet. But my questions were blown away by the closet we’d entered. A vast space, easily three or four times the size of my own bedroom closet, and dark wood shelves and drawers everywhere. Stacks of what looked like they were t-shirts on the shelves, and he pulled open a couple of deep drawers and said, “Boxer briefs there,” pointing to the first drawer, “. . . and briefs in here, colors below each,” and he was grabbing a pair of white briefs and on to another drawer . . . or three. He threw open three more drawers and said, “Gym shorts in this one; swimsuits in these two,” and was already pulling on his boxer briefs.

I didn’t really know how I felt about wearing another guy’s underwear, but he cocked his head and said, “Ah, the garage door opener,” and I vaguely heard a mechanical noise in the distance, wouldn’t even have noticed it if he’d not said anything. “My son,” he added. “T-shirts up here, obviously,” he said, sweeping his arm in a wide arc pointing to the shelves and swiping one.

“Uh, why don’t I just stay in here, Jim?” I stammered, still daunted by wearing another guy’s clothes, and also by the prospect of meeting his son, a son I didn’t even know anything about before that moment.

“Bill, he’s HOME, albeit unexpectedly. Not like he’s just delivering a pizza and will be gone. Unless I misunderstood what’s happened here this afternoon and tonight, I’m hoping you’d be meeting him anyway at some point in the near future.”

SHIT! OK, Cate, suck it up, I said to myself, and I immediately decided that “sucking” might not be the right verb in this circumstance when I was going to be with a guy I’d just TRICKED with’s father. And on top of everything, my ability to construct a sentence was gone . . .

I grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and closed the underwear drawers and then grabbed a t-shirt, thankfully pretty generic, just plain grey with a pocket, no slogan or artwork. He’d picked a light blue pair of board shorts, a yellow t-shirt with the exact color of blue contrasting neck and arm edging, which by the way was the exact blue of his eyes, too. I was momentarily transfixed by the way his t-shirt accentuated that awesome upper body I’d taken so much pleasure in and the way those board shorts were filled out in the ass in a way that made my cock twitch. And those tanned arms and legs and dark fur had me ready to go all over again.

He saw my reaction and stepped to me, helping me pull my t-shirt down where I’d stopped midway and kissed me quickly. “I’m flattered, Bill, believe me, but can we finish dressing you now?”

He grabbed a pair gray and white board shorts which matched the grey t-shirt perfectly and threw them at me. “C’mon, I can’t wait for you to meet Perry!”

PERRY ELLIS?! I thought to myself. Wow! Alrighty then.

We were back in the kitchen at our bar stools and our cooled remnants of omelets when Perry Ellis bounded into the kitchen following a “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadddddd, I’m hooommmmmmmmmmmmm!”

“Hi, Perry,” Jim said as Perry stopped short in the doorway to the kitchen from the back hallway. Perry was a carbon copy of his father, maybe 25 years younger, around 18ish by my guess. Damn strong genes in that family!

“Oh, dad, hi, didn’t know you had company,” he said, looking at me a little strangely.

“Yup, I sure do,” he said, throwing his left arm around my shoulders and pulling me in toward him. “This is Bill Cate, Perry, and I hope you’ll be getting to know him a lot better, just like I hope to.”

WHOA. OK . . . breathe, Cate; just BREATHE. I got off the stool clumsily and walked toward the obviously uncomfortable young man with my hand out. “This is my wonderful son Perry, Bill.”

Perry hesitated and looked at his dad strangely before his expression changed into a smirk and said, “SOMEone’s in a great mood! Looks like I interrupted something here!!!” and laughed as he took a step to me and gripped my hand firmly and we shook. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cate,” he said. “Don’t mind me – “

“Colonel Cate,” Jim said at the exact moment as I said, “It’s Bill, please.”

Perry looked at his dad and then back at me and then at his dad again, and we finally broke the handshake. “Well, dad and Colonel Bill, as I was saying, don’t mind me, I’m beat and going to my room to crash.”

“Did you get anything to eat, son,” Jim asked?

“Uh, yeah, dad, a while ago. It’s after eleven after all,” he said smirking some more. “Guess you two worked up an appetite!” he added with the smirk going to a grin.

I was sure a rivulet of sweat went down the center of my back between my shoulder blades! Jim just laughed. “OK, son, you’ve had your fun at your old dad’s expense, but let’s make Bill feel at home. And if it’s that late – which you correctly deduced we hadn’t noticed – you are ready for a snack. So go get your stuff put down and clean up and I’ll have one of my special omelets for you in no time.

As Jim got up and came around where I was standing uncomfortably, he squeezed my shoulder and kissed me on the side of the head and kept going and swatted his son on the ass. “Go on, you know you can always eat. Get comfortable and wash up, and it’ll be ready.”

Perry just laughed and turned back to me and said, “Bill, I really DO hope we get to know you better. My dad obviously is enjoying having you around a lot!” And with that Perry Ellis grabbed up his backpack and went back through the door to that hall and turned the opposite way from where we’d been and I heard his heavy feet on the wood floors around behind the kitchen trailing off.

“He’s a great kid, Bill,” Jim said. “The absolute best part of my life,” he added. And before I could think of a reply he turned around and threw in, “At least until this afternoon.”

Double wow! I really wasn’t ready for this, not at all. Jim could see me standing there like a wooden statue, a wooden statue with eyes like a deer in headlights, and he came toward me. “Bill, AM I wrong?” he said, looking way past my eyes into me.

“I’m just –“ I started, but he put his lips on mine and wrapped me in his arms and held me tight.

“You’re just what?” he whispered in my ear and tightened his strong, warm arms around me.

And just like that, something inside me said YES, you want to be here, and I relaxed and put my arms around him and held him back.

“OK, OK,” we heard behind us, and I tried to pull away, but Jim held me tight. “Dad, I think I liked you better in your half-decade of monkhood!” Perry said, coming into the kitchen from the other direction. “Break it up, guys; the younger generation not only didn’t get any sex, he’s also hungry, now that you offered, Dad.”

Jim laughed heartily, and that made me warm all over. And to my surprise he kissed me again – a full lip lock – before letting me go with wide eyes and a little stardust floating. “OK, let’s get the boy some fuel food,” he said heading back to work by the stovetop.

* * * * * * * * * * *

An hour later we were back locked into Jim’s room, on a sofa my back to his chest, watching a movie on his eighty inch LCD TV. Jim’s arms were wrapped around me, his right one up under his t-shirt I was still wearing, his hand on my chest. I was absently rubbing his forearm, enjoying the feel of his strong warm arm holding me and the feel of his fur. I was very, very glad he’d assured me that staying over with him was absolutely no problem. His hand moved a little, and his finger began rubbing my left nipple . . . and of course, with my nipples wired to my nuts, my cock started to get harder, and I pressed my body back against him more, particularly my ass into his cock, which I now noticed was getting hard, too. I moved my head slightly, enough so he caught the hint and kissed my neck, and then we were in a clench, groping, sucking face, grinding into each other and soon enough he was on is back with me on top of him grinding our rock-hard cocks together again.

He was sore, I knew that from the last time we’d fucked, but clearly he was revved up and ready to go for it all again. And we did.

We were in the bed, having ripped each other’s clothes off, and I was pumping his hard meat in my hand as I chewed his nipples, first one, then the other, as he moaned and groped at me. I worked my way down him, enjoying every hair and every muscle and ridge until I swallowed his big hard cock and took it until my nose was buried in his musky pubes. FUCKING HEAVEN!

Apparently he thought so, too, because he cried out “OH FUCK!” when I swallowed his cock and thrust his hips up in case there was more for me to get. What I got was a mouthful of wiry pubes, which I didn’t mind one bit, but I needed some control, so I grabbed his nuts roughly and held his sac taut with a firm grip on his big balls so that I could work his cock and he couldn’t move. That got me a prolonged “Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” which just made me suck him harder.

I used every trick on that beautiful big cock of his. My lips, mouth, tongue, throat, humming, and I sucked him for close to an hour, enjoying every single second of it. I edged him and made him whimper and beg repeatedly, made him thrash and beg some more, made him buck against my grip on his nuts, massaged them, worked them, then, finally, when he couldn’t take any more, I finally sucked and licked him over the edge and felt him shoot HARD about a gallon of cum into my mouth. FUCK YEAH!

I kept sucking and licking his cock well past when he finished shooting and until he was thrashing and trying to force my head off him. And it was then that I went in for the kill and shoved his legs up in the air and shoved my tongue into his sweaty soapy clean hole. As I was spitting some of his cum that I hadn’t swallowed into him, he was yelling with pleasure and thrusting his ass into my face as much as he could in that position.

I ate him good and long, and when I was ready I put my hand down and smeared the precum that was puddled between my legs and all over my head and smeared my cock slick with it and got up on my knees, clamped one hand over his mouth and SHOVED my cock into him suddenly, no warning, no mercy. His scream was muffled, and his ass had to be in agony, but we both knew what we liked and what he wanted, and getting fucked man-style was it.

I pounded him hard, using some of what I’d learned about his body earlier to know where to aim, how to read his reactions, and, basically, turn him into a mass of firing nerve endings. I was exhausted all over again from fucking him so hard for so long when he was finally at the point where backing off with my thrusts into his prostate still had his cock so hard, so purple, so ready to blast that I knew he was going to cum no matter what I did. So I slammed my cock home as hard and as fast as I could and felt his ass clench and spasm around my cock as he started to blast those delicious thick ropes of cum he shot, and seeing the first couple, combined with the spasming and clenching on my cock pulled me over the edge, too, and I once again, for the fourth time that night and the fourth time in years, filled my lover with my hot seed.

The pain in my nuts that seventh time I’d cum that afternoon and evening was intense, as I was well beyond any human limit for a middle aged man like me, but it was the most intense climax I’d had yet. I hadn’t really been aware of the details, but I started to recognize my surroundings again with his legs over my shoulders, me sitting on my heels with my knees under his ass so he was raised up, and me still deep inside him. He had plenty of his own cum mixed with his sweat-matted fur, and as I inhaled, the stink of our sex was heady. He was just making a noise like purring, and I realized his hands were on my legs under him, gripping me tightly.

We felt so fucking RIGHT together that the wave of panic passed across me again. I didn’t have the chance to even start to bolt up, because he sensed it and squeezed my legs and said, “You belong here, Bill.”

Strangely it didn’t intensify the panic, it eased it. I looked down into his eyes, which were now open and gazing into mine. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Jimmy-stud,” I said to him gently.

He struggled up, grabbing my arms and levering himself up from that position until he was facing me, and then he wrapped his arms around me. That’s all – he didn’t speak; he didn’t move; he just wrapped his arms around me and held me very tight.

And it wasn’t long before my arms were around him and holding him right back, tight against me, too.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sunday morning I awoke feeling like a million dollars rest-wise. I hadn’t slept that well since before I’d gone into basic training! Jim was wrapped in my arms, and my raging morning hardon was shoved against his back. I removed my left arm from around him gently and moved just enough so I could reach down and position my cockhead into his hairy crack, then wove my arm around him again.

For his part, Jim was oblivious to it being 5am and time for sane men of training to be up and fueling our bodies for the long, hard day to come. He was sleeping softly, just the slightest muffled snores audible over my own breathing, which, since I’d put my cockhead into that incredible hairy buttcrack of his, my head within an easy push to that chute of pleasure I’d enjoyed repeatedly yesterday, last night and twice through the night, was now panting. Oh, yes, I was going to fuck him awake!

We’d showered around 1am, after another session, but there were twice since then, and I knew his hole was still slick with my seed. I nudged my head at his sore, swollen rim (I’ll admit I was pretty proud of the beating I’d given that hot fuckhole of his over the past 19 hours or so!), and he stirred in his sleep, moving back against me just enough to make my nuts boil with added desire. I moved some and pushed harder, and I was rewarded with that pleasure portal parting enough that the tip of my bulbous cockhead was partially inside him, and I could feel the wet heat of the remnants of our prior sessions. I moved by left hand down to his waist and took firm hold and SHOVED myself inside him. “FUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKK GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR,” he cried out as he came awake with the pain of my abrupt entry. WHAT A FUCKING RUSH to be in that HOT wet hole of his, TIGHT as the first time!

I had a tight grip on his waist so he couldn’t move away from my cock as I began thrusting into him again, but instead of trying to get away he struggled on his side to push back into my thrusts, as he had every time we’d fucked so far. “FUCK YEAH, DUDE, fuck back, Jim!” I yelled and thrust more urgently into him. “You fucking want it, don’t you?” I challenged.

Jim reached around and pulled my head down beside his and turned and savagely sucked at my mouth, our teeth grinding together as our connection to each other below got more and more rough and urgent. “STOP with the stupid questions,” he snarled, “and FUCK me! I want every bit of you, every inch, every ounce, every move! Ohhhhhhhhhh FUCKKKKKKKKKKK YESSSSSSSSSSSS!”

I reached his cock and started to stroke it, and he bucked and yelled and came after only two swipes. And that, of course, took me over the edge, and I was long past the point of the automatic failsafe in my brain even throwing the thought that I shouldn’t be flooding his fuckchute with my jizz – it just was the way it was supposed to be now!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH F U C K that stings,” he yelled as I pumped my cum into his hole, still thrusting, totally out of control, his cry like something far away in my head.

I finally stopped shooting and started to regain myself, and what he’d said registered, so I pulled out with a loud sloppy “SCWACTHP” sound, which coincided with his “HOLY FUCKING CHRIST GODDAMMIT FUCK!”

“You ok?” I asked, meaning it.

“GodDAMN, Colonel, it’s like you’ve taken prisoners and are torturing them into submission!”

I momentarily mis-processed what he said literally, and I started to move back away from him, but he still had his big strong arm around the back of my neck and held me tighter. He moved his head back again and kissed me, this time not so violently as before, and longer and deeper.

“I may need a lot of training, Colonel!” he said playfully.

“Seriously, Jim, I don’t want to hurt you,” I started, but he whirled around out of my grasp and faced me.

“Bill, DUDE, SERIOUSLY?!” he said, his hands on my shoulders. “I haven’t hurt this good since I was a fratboy, Bill. You’re fucking AMAZING. And an AMAZING FUCK!”

“But there’s a point of reasonability to the pain, Jim, and I don’t want you to think I’m one of those tops who doesn’t give a shit about anything but getting off.”

I was really in uncharted territory here, as I probably WAS one of THOSE tops. But with Jim it was different for me, and I was damned if I was going to just USE Jim like some trick, even if I was figuring out what the difference was and what it meant.

“Again I said, ‘SERIOUSLY’ Bill?! You’re fucking kidding me, right? I can’t even count the number of times I’ve cum in the past day since I met you, can’t count the amazing incredible feelings I’ve had while we’ve been fucking that I’ve never had before in my fucking LIFE. And besides, NOW who’s talking like an attorney?!” He was serious through that but broke into a grin at the last. And that was the grin that cut right through everything I knew to be me and touched something I was beginning to like about me.

I just sort of couldn’t answer him, sort of processed it all. Being there, in a strange man’s house having been there overnight and through fucking, a meal, more fucking, TV, sleeping, more fucking. Being there with a guy I really LIKED, and not just as a sex vessel but as a man. Being there, right then, with my sloppy dripping cock hanging out, stinking of our sex (again), the heady aroma of two men who’d fucked multiple times since their last shower, the sight of his sweat-matted fur, and what really drove me over the edge was seeing him sitting on his heels and some of my cum having run out of his freshly-fucked and SORE asshole and running down his foot.

He moved one hand from my shoulder to the side of my face and caressed it. “I’m way ahead of you, Bill, aren’t I?” he said, with a pleading but understanding look.

The feel of his big hand against my face was amazing. It surprised me how intense it was, and I realized on some intellectual level that we were connecting. And I also realized that there was a major part of me inside yelling “RUN”, but no part of me was reacting to anything but his beautiful eyes locked on mine and his hand caressing my morning stubble.

I couldn’t think of any words, couldn’t really think at all. I found both my hands moving to clasp his hand on my face, to hold it and also found myself turning my face enough to kiss his hand.

He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me yet again, and without any delay or hesitation I did the same. We stunk, and that in itself was exciting me and my cock was beginning to get hard again between us. I was, for the first time since I was a teenager, a little self-conscious of having a boner around another man. I thought I’d grown out of that into my tough Marine FUCK-EM exterior a long time ago.

Jim noticed my bone and reached down and gripped it, and I moaned involuntarily. “Jesus fuck, Colonel!” I was self-conscious and tried to pull away, but he held me tighter with his one strong arm and stroked me and kissed my shoulder. I was melting . . . all but my now rock-hard cock, that is.

I bit his shoulder when he reached with his other arm and gripped my big nuts. He’d learned yesterday that my nuts were MARINE nuts, not some pussyboy’s nuts, and that these Marine nuts demanded to be handled like a man. “Oh, FUCK, Jim!” was the only thing I could say.

His powers of articulation escaped him, too, because he started growling and groaning and working my cock and nuts with his hands hard and purposefully. He kissed my shoulder and kissed and bit my neck and my ear and growled in my ear and just kept pumping my slimey cock and kneading and pulling and twisting my nuts while I echoed the same growls, grunts and added moans and groans and started spouting various filth as I was transported.

When I got close he suddenly threw me down and swallowed my filthy cock and ripped at my balls in case there was any mistake that he wanted my load. I came harder than any time so far with him, literally letting out a piercing yell and string of epithets as I clamped my hand on his head and pumped my seed into his mouth and throat.

Jim shouted with a mouthful of cock when I began shooting and sucked me ravenously as I drained whatever was left in my over-dissipated cumtanks.

I hadn’t come down to earth when I became aware of his body against mine, his lips pressed into mine, and the taste of my cum being shared in my mouth. “FUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKK you hot fucker,” or something like that I tried to say, still pressed against his mouth with my tongue in his mouth. I reached down to find his cock soft and hanging and was apparently disappointed enough that he sensed it.

“Let’s stipulate that one of us is far more quick to recharge than the other, OK?” he posed. “And, just for the record, when I felt you hard against me before, I felt like I was cumming from the moment I grabbed your cock until I made you cum. I can’t even tell you what a fucking rush that was for you to be that aroused that quickly after you’d brutalized my ass and clearly gotten off just a few minutes before.”

I looked at him, and he just smiled. I started to say something, and he put his hand on my lips. “I told you before. I know I’m way ahead of you, and I won’t pressure you or anything, but just know that when I look at you, when I feel you, feel your look, feel your body, feel you cum inside me, when I FEEL you I KNOW we’re right here right now for a reason that’s strong for both of us.”

RUN echoed in my brain. But a warmth was inside me, seemed to be emanating from his sincere beautiful blue eyes. “I am not . . . skilled in this,” I managed. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me, held my gaze, his expression warm, and that warmth filling me. I somehow knew it was OK to say nothing, but I wanted to, something strange inside me compelling me. “But I feel it, too,” I added.

His smile was wide and radiant, and it lit me up inside all the more as it seemed to light the entire room. We were leaning together when the phone chirping beside the bed stopped us. Jim turned abruptly and then said “Intercom. Perry.”

He picked up the phone and said, “Good morning, fruit of my loins!” and laughed heartily, reaching out and giving my nuts a tweak with a devilish smile as he listened to his son on the phone. “Well, OK then!” he said, and he tossed the phone in the general direction of where he’d snatched it from. “My kid is awake and hungry . . . and aware that you’re still here and demanding we all have my famous waffles together.”

“Um, he knows I’m still here . . . “ I stammered, processing that given what we’d been doing for the past hour plus.

“Seems we might have been a BIT loud,” he said, and for the first time I saw a bit of sheepishness in his look. Which was nothing compared to how mortified I felt. And Jim apparently saw it on my face. “Hey, NO WAY are you going there. He’s an adult, and I’m a grown man and can do as I please in my house. And with you I want to do a LOT and OFTEN. So don’t even go there, Bill.”

“I get that, Jim, but . . . “

“But nothing, Bill, seriously. First of all, Perry’s thrilled I have someone in my life. Second, he’s nineteen years old, so he knows what sex is and, now don’t be shocked, he’s not a virgin!” He laughed and came in for a quick kiss. “Come on let’s shower up and get some breakfast. My waffles really are amazing!” And he kissed me again and then jumped off the bed, his incredible body moving effortlessly, his muscles and sinew and fur all a perfect representation to my eyes of a MAN.

When he turned at the beginning of the hallway with the closets that I now knew led to the bathroom off his bedroom and said, “C’mon, dude, if we hurry we can get a quickie in while we shower,” and licked his lips, I was on the move, right after him!

- - - - - - - - - - DEFINITELY MORE TO COME . . . and CUM . . .


###

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This is the second part of a series. The first part is not eligible to be uploaded to this site. If anybody is interested in Part 1, email me.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------My eighteenth birthday was on a Wednesday. My mom and my stepfather were both out of town on business. They’d asked if it was OK with me since the

Not Exactly The Brady Bunch Part 3

When I was 20 and in the Academy, my older step-brother Cain came to town for business. Cain had finally gotten a job of his dreams – or secondary dreams, given his first had been to be a pro baseball player, and that hadn’t happened for him – and was on the player personnel staff for a major league baseball team that was in Baltimore for a weekend of games. Cain’s father, my stepfather,

Passengers

Chapter 1 – Long FlightI snuck a look – AGAIN – at the hot guy in the boring off-the-rack suit sitting in the aisle seat to my right. Mmmm mmmm good. The uber-sexy body which I’d noticed when he boarded after me and was maneuvering around getting himself and his stuff situated. That bod moving in his off-the-rack blended weave suit slacks which weren’t made for an ass like that, nor was

Picnic

It was unseasonably hot for Memorial Day weekend – high eighties, humidity higher than normal and making it feel like mid-90s. The almost-hurricane off the coast was signaling is imminent arrival.The picnic was in full tilt. There were well over 300 people enjoying the food, the sports activities, the pool and the beach at the defunct beach club my company had rented for this Saturday

Roger That, Marine!

Sunday tennis with an equally non-penitent recovering Catholic like me. It was a frequent ritual and a bit of a private joke among us that tennis was our version of worship. It was like that with Ames and me, at least since we’d both retired from the Marines at roughly the same time. Oh, yeah, and for roughly the same reason. But that’s another story.This Sunday was the beginning of

The Light Colonel Sweats

I was posted to MCSOCOM (it was to evolve later to MARSOC) under the commander at Camp Lejeune. I’d gotten used to having my home base being the shithole we affectionately (and realistically) called “Camp Swampy” after having most recently transferred from duty at NATO and before that the US Embassy in Paris. Camp Swampy, as sultry and unsophisticated (I almost wrote ‘uncivilized’!) as it was,

The Marine And The Attorney - After the Picnic Day 2

We had more than a quickie in the shower. In fact, what started out as him on his knees blowing me as the multiple jets streamed steamy-hot water over both of us ended up being one of the hottest slamfucks we’d had, him against the tiles with his one leg up on a step and my cock reaming him balls deep as hard as I could without both of us slipping and killing ourselves in the shower. My arm was

The Marine And Then Attorney Get Hitched

My (now) husband’s big hand on my sweaty arm brought my consciousness up a few levels from the sun and surf induced reverie I was in. “How does it feel, Bill?” Jim asked in a husky voice from the lounge next to mine. He rubbed my arm just enough to send an electric shock through my body, squarely landing in my balls, as his touch always did. “You keep doing that and everyone out here will

The Marine Answers THE QUESTION

We were sitting there, both cross-legged, naked, on the bed in my condo, where I didn’t live any longer, after another mind-blowing fucksession. My lover/partner of fifty-five days (I didn’t know the number of days at that point, but I knew it was both new and also that it was amazingly wonderful) Jim, my hunky, hairy, muscular, dark, sexy, smart, loving, exciting,

The Marine Claims A Straight One

“Hey bud, haven’t seen you for a while now; didn’t know you were back,” the sweating stud in the white sweat-soaked sweatshirt with the arms cut out to show off his massive shoulder caps, biceps and triceps said to me, his blonde-furred muscular forearm out to shake hands.Of course I’d seen him the second I entered the gym floor. I’d fought the urge to pop a bone right then and there with the

The Marine Gets A Life . . . maybe

“Jesus Christ I’m sore, Bill,” my sexy new man said, as we headed to the shower. We both stunk of sex. My cum was running down his thigh out of his freshly fucked ass, as his thick muscular furry legs rippled and pumped in front of me as we headed down the hall, and his fuzzy ass-globes bounced. My cock was rock-hard again just watching those mounds of pleasure – and all of him – and that

The Marine Gets THE QUESTION

“YEAH!” my partner Jim’s nineteen-year-old son yelled and pumped his fist in the air after he caught me off my feet with a perfect shot to the baseline just out of reach of my desperately outstretched racket.“Good shot,” I called to Perry across the net. “Forty fifteen,” I called, reminding him he’d been a shot away from losing that game and the set and the match before that last-gasp shot.

The Marine Heads For The Aisle

“Hey, Co-Dad, can I talk to you about something?” My partner (and soon-to-be husband, which positively blows my mind, but then again, even having a wildly hot partner whom I love to and with and from the depths of my being blows my mind), Jim, has a buoyant, brilliant, beautiful (and often bawdy) nineteen year-old son, Perry, who has taken to calling me “Co-Dad”. It made me uncomfortable at

The Marine Meets the Green-Eyed Monster

I was fucking Jim brutally – every stroke HARD, slamming into him. My sweat was flying every time our bodies collided, my huge horsecock relentlessly pounding into his fuckchute. His shouts were louder than ever before, and I had my sweaty jockstrap stuffed in his mouth to muffle him as much as I could, his arms restrained behind him by my hands.“You think that musclebitch at the gym could

The Marine Settles In

I awoke hard, startled. Jim was sound asleep still. I could see by lifting my arm around him enough that it was ten-forty-one. The lawnmower was going out in the back.Jim had been up earlier, as had I. We’d had a wild night – well, no wilder than usual, but since it was Friday night and no work today, a few more times – of sex and play. When we’d gotten up in the We as usual we couldn’t

The Marine Skinny Dips (and Puts On A Show!)

It had been a long and stressful workday. Hell, the three days this week had all been long and stressful. And for no apparent reason, the traffic northeast out to the coast where I was now living in my boyfriend’s lavish home was nightmarish. Twelve hours at the office, starting at six; almost an hour in so leaving at just after five; and then almost an hour and a half coming home. UGH!

The Marine Sweats At Dawn

The Marine Sweats At Dawn.I awoke at 05:35 with a raging hardon, right out of the middle of a HOT dream about my even hotter former French Canadian lover, JP (Jean-Pierre), whom I’d seen the year before again while on a trip back to Paris. JP was about the only recurring stud who visited me in my dreams, his ass always needing another slam-fucking, always his hot swimmer’s body inviting

The Marine's Hamstring Gets A Hot Medic Strung Out - Part 1

I’d got to the medical suite about twenty minutes before the time the doctor had set up for me with his medic who did physical therapy, and the nurse had told me to go from the medical suite in the embassy office building to the gym – in the men’s locker room there was a therapy room, and that was where I was to wait. I went into the small, windowless room – there were some workspaces around the

The Marine's Hamstring Gets A Hot Medic Strung-Out - Part 2/end

At 1839 a soft knock at the door of my quarters had me stopping my pacing and making a beeline for the door. He was even cuter than before, wearing khaki slacks and a green shirt that was roughly the shade of his eyes. He was grinning up at me, just standing there, until I realized I was filling the doorway. I stood to the side, and as he walked in past me he deliberately brushed against me.

The Marine's Hamstring Gets a Hot Medic Strung-Out Part 2

I’d got to the medical suite about twenty minutes before the time the doctor had set up for me with his medic who did physical therapy, and the nurse had told me to go from the medical suite in the embassy office building to the gym – in the men’s locker room there was a therapy room, and that was where I was to wait. I went into the small, windowless room – there were some workspaces around the

The Marine, His PTSD, The Gunnery Sergeant And His Son – Part 1

The Marine, His PTSD, The Gunnery Sergeant And His Son – Part 1I’d just been cycled back stateside after a traumatic deployment, first to Kuwait, then to Iraq. It was my first combat mission, which I’d done everything I could to get. Chalk that up to the arrogant stupidity of my youth.I was welcomed home with open arms, had a great posting and had been promoted. “Captain Cate” had a

The Marine, His PTSD, The Gunnery Sergeant And His Son – Part 2 / Conclusion

I contentedly lay in Ron’s bed after we’d fucked ourselves out, the cords of his muscular arms comfortingly holding me tight, and his chest hair, sweaty and cummy from his forceful eruption, soft against the side of my face. The rise and fall of his of his pecs as he breathed served to lull me into near-sleep. I drifted in his sweaty embrace, inhaling the smell of our sex.I felt safe . . .

The Marine, The Attorney And The Voyeur Yard Man - Deux

We were in Jim’s big, sporty BMW on our way home together, leaving the District. He was driving, as was his preference, though I’d driven in from my office at the Pentagon to pick him up. “Oh, and Clancy called to confirm that his guys delivered the bricks and sent some photographs for me to confirm he’d delivered what we’d chosen.” He picked up his Galaxy 3 off the console and handed it across

The Marine, The Attorney And The Voyeur Yard Man - Part 3

When we woke after our post-fuck(s) nap, it was the middle of the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d slept in until nearly ten. Oh, right – we never had! Sure we were up fucking from just after five until nearly eight, but still, it wasn’t like us to oversleep. Jim held me tight against him, even though we were both awake. “I meant what I said, Bill,” he said, almost

The Marine, The Attorney And The Voyeur Yard Man - Part 4 Oh And The Contractor

I still awoke at dawn despite having fucked, sucked, showered, cuddled and repeated a few times the night and wee hours of the morning before we finally slept . . . some. Jim was sleeping soundly, his almost imperceptible snores, as always, sending bolts of electricity straight to my balls. I had my arm around him, my nose to his neck, and I could smell the sex despite several showers, a

The Marine, The Attorney And The Voyeur Yard Man And The Contractor - Part 5

I still awoke at dawn despite having fucked, sucked, showered, cuddled and repeated a few times the night and wee hours of the morning before we finally slept . . . some. Jim was sleeping soundly, his almost imperceptible snores, as always, sending bolts of electricity straight to my balls. I had my arm around him, my nose to his neck, and I could smell the sex despite several showers, a

The Naive Marine Lieutenant Plays With The NFL

I was on leave and had caught transport to the first place I could find with sun. Turned out to be Tampa. I went to the Grand Hyatt and sort of crashed the pool. OK, I totally crashed it. I wasn’t a checked-in guest, and had no hope of being one on my budget, but I thought the pool would be a great place to enjoy some sun. I was right about that. Not only was there plenty of sun, but there

The Young Marine Takes To The Courts

I was a captain stationed at the American Embassy in Paris when I was twenty-five. I had been assigned to the Ambassador’s personal staff, and he and his wife had taken a liking to me right off. They were going to be attending Wimbledon that year as a guest of one of the Queen’s cousins, the Duke of Kent, with whom the ambassador had served on a UN peace-keeping mission in Cyprus. The

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