Date: Fri, 20 Nov 2009 14:34:40 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Naval Tradition 12 Naval Tradition Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between male adults. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. No, I haven't forgotten the McGrath saga. Feedback always welcome, it's how I know guys out there are reading: billdrake@hotmail.com. Naval Tradition Jim's Story 12 Coming of Age I nervously pulled up in my brother's driveway. It had been four days since our camping trip. Four days since I'd gotten fucked. For four days straight I'd been jacking off reliving the memory. My mind vividly brought back the feel and smell of Paul's burly cop body. I turned the key out of the ignition and paused. My heart pumped furiously and my hands shook. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't thinking, it was just a primal force pushing me on. Opening the car door. Knocking on his door. Paul was home from shift, as I'd expected. "Hiya, Slugger," he greeted. He'd not even taken off his uniform, though he'd removed his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the stretched white cotton T underneath. Damn, I couldn't get over how beefy his build was. The upper body was like huge swells of mass beneath his uniform. "Come in." I followed him in as he picked up a beer off the table. "Want one?" he asked, gesturing to the bottle in his hand. "Nah." I responded. "Conditioning," Paul laughed. I swear his beer paunch jiggled a little when he did. Why the fuck did I find that gut so sexy? "I could use some conditioning myself. It's funny.... Coach H used to always be on my case. That man could always tell when I lied to him about partying on the weekends." "Yeah, Coach has some sort of sixth sense. You know the first thing he said to me Monday? 'Looks like McGrath got laid this weekend.'" Paul nodded. "I've been known to put that I've been majorly laid look on a face or two." "You hornog," I teased. "That's why you're here, huh, Slugger? Or did you just want to talk about it?" His eyes questioned mine. I looked back into them. I couldn't speak, couldn't look away. I wanted to cry, I wanted to run away from the unbearable fate of admitting to my brother that I wanted him again. "'s OK, Jim. Why don't you head to the bedroom, and I'll be there in a sec. This beer runs right through me." Nervously, I found his bedroom and crawled into bed, stripping off my clothes. My body was shivering, but I wanted this. I dug around his nightstand till I found a half-used tube of KY. I squirted out a big dollop and started applying it to my pucker. Paul paused and smiled as he entered the room. I think he was savoring this, getting used to being turned on by another man. He started pulling out his uniform shirt and unzipping his trousers. "I owe you, bro. I fucked Dillon yesterday. Looks like we're gonna be even closer partners now," he grinned. On any other man, that cocky grin would have angered me, on Paul it was hot. Maybe he misread the look on my face, cause then his face shifted to concern and he added, "Hope you're not jealous, Slugger. I didn't bring it up because I..." "No, Paul. That's cool. I'm not falling in love with my own brother. I'm just a horny 17 year old who's discovered a really big dick." I winked to lighten up the situation, but I wasn't joking: I craved Paul's body, his cock, his selfish lack of finesse in the sack, but it was just sex. Pure sex. Explosive even. He shuffled his weight above my athletic frame. I loved feeling his breath on my neck, his scratchy chest hair against my smooth lats, and the swell of his stomach nestled against the small of my back. He shimmied his hips, positioning his monster erection. He pushed forward slowly and carefully, but that blunt piece hurt like a motherfucker barging its way in. One of these days I'd have to tell him how to relax a hole with a nice, gradual finger frigging. One of these days! How many times did I intend to get fucked by my own brother? I didn't have an answer, other than the several hard incredibly thick inches plunging into my rectum. And the several inches of Paul's cock remaining. The size and the force strained my ability to take it, but still it felt good. Great, even. A welcome answer to the emptiness my ass had felt the last few days. I grunted and bit the pillow and wondered if my brother was gonna stretch me out too wide for anyone else. Finally he was all the way in. "Whoo, Jim. I'm in ya again." He lifted his upper body up and thrust his hips forward to grind the very edge of his cockroot up against my crack. His prick was meaty and hard and alive in my guts, and it was making me sing in heated sexual sighs. "Ungh, Paul," I gasped, grabbing the sheets. He pulled back and slammed forth. Those heavy balls slapping the spot between my legs. "Damn, Jim!" he cried. "Fuck me!" I whispered. "Damn, yeah. Gonna fuck you bro." He powered in again, seemingly unable to control his own force. I wasn't complaining. He leaned forward and kissed my neck, sending paroxysms of excitement through my body and straight to my bowels, which clenched and relaxed around my bro's pole. My brother liked to fuck and fuck hard. When he saw that his fleshy double-wide fuckstick wasn't causing me damage, he went full tilt at my ass. I lay face down in his king sized bed and relished a brutal five-minute assault, his chest muscles and furry gut pressed against my back, his "Aw fuck, Slugger," was all he said as he seeded me once more and as I sprayed his sheets. I was dressed and out the door ten minutes later. That's how it was for the next four weeks. Sex to the point, short and sweet. It was great. We were hanging out more. I'd gotten Paul to share my running regimen. He told me stories from his time on the force. I'd have dinner with him some nights. We'd be hanging out as brothers, as buddies, then an opportune moment would come, a sly glance, and we'd be at each other. Fucking with blind aggression. Sneaking in a quickie. Me powersucking the scum out of his fat rod. There was the time we were watching the Braves and the Mets play and Paul started pawing at me, and I shuffled my body next to his and then I was being stripped, then his lips met mine, while my hand dove under his waistband for his crowbar of a cock. That fuck took one inning flat. There was the time he came to one of my games. Gave me a lift home and pulled off into the state park on the way. Pushed me over the hood of the cruiser and tore into me. There was the afternoon we tried to sneak in a jog before a coming thunderstorm. We were soaked by the time we got back to the car. Noticing that the rain had driven away all passers-by, Paul rubbed his mound. "You wanna, bro?" I croaked out a yes and watched as his magnificent flesh prod was bared. I sucked his bad boy off and gulped down every drop of his bittersweet juice. There was the time I convinced him to rim me. I don't think he enjoyed it, but he enjoyed how wound up it made me. It was all great, but like I say it was just sex. No nonsense, emotionless. Even my fuckbuddy Kevin had shared something with me. So here I was getting laid and having a ball, plus feeling the heady rush of messing around with my own brother. My burly horsehung brother. Experimenting stuffing an insane thickness of cock into my guts. But increasingly, I wanted more. I wanted passion. I didn't want to be a divorced man's relief. I wanted a guy to desire me. To want me. I wanted what I had with Kevin. With Jack Grant. So when Paul started dating again, I wasn't surprised or upset. I was a little relieved in fact. I think we both wanted to get back to being just brothers. And I could tell by the spring in his step and his smile as we jogged that he was happy to be dating a woman again. Like he'd been excited to try on a brand new baseball glove only to realize his old worn one was a natural fit. Or something like that. I hadn't anticipated what withdrawal from sex would be like. I'd been so used to getting it regular that I was unprepared for the problem of how to find someone to get off with. I tried the park a couple of nights but nothing caught my interest. I thought back to Dan, the hotel guy from last spring and his advice to seek out that look in other guys' eyes. But I wasn't seeing it. Till one afternoon Paul and I were coming back from a five mile run. Paul's partner Mark was there with take-out. "Hiya guys. I thought I'd surprise McG with dinner," he said. "I think there's enough for three here, though," he added looking my way. "Especially with my new diet," Paul replied. He padded his gut, which was starting to trim a little from the recent dieting and exercise. Love can work wonders, I thought. We ate and watched a game on TV. I soaked it all in. These guys made me feel like I was one of them, another cop buddy, and, well it's shallow to say, but it made me feel grown-up. A man. I kept thinking back to what Paul had confided to me about his partner. I could tell Mark Dillon was in love with my brother, just by the way he looked at Paul and his body language. I chuckled inwardly thinking that if at that moment Paul had ordered Mark to fetch his slippers or peel grapes for him, the big cop would have done just as asked. A part of me shivered imagining Jack Grant ordering me to wait on him. Fuck! I'm a sick puppy, I thought, as I bet my lip to suppress a grimace. I finished that beer off pretty quick. Paul had to get ready for a date, so he pushed us along on our way. As we left and were walking to the driveway, Mark stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. "Paul tells me you're gay." I wondered if Paul had told him anything else, but reading his face, I decided not. "Yeah," I replied a little unsure where this was going. "I am." He slipped his protective arm further on my shoulders. "You seem pretty well-adjusted, but if, you know, you ever want to talk about things, just let me know." "You gay?" I knew the answer already of course. The blonde cop nodded. "I don't usually advertise it, Jim, but yeah. Yeah, I am." "Cool. It's great to meet someone else who's gay in this town." I paused then added, "besides... you know, the guys I fuck with." Officer Dillon laughed. "Damn kid, you're something! Wanna go back to my place and talk some?" I stood there, not sure what he was asking. Mr. Dillon wasn't gonna elaborate, but there was a real fire burning in his eyes. "I'd like that." We went back to his place, but didn't do much talking. Mark Dillon found his substitute McGrath cock, and I found my new fuckbuddy. ****** The next time we jogged Paul interjected out of nowhere. "Well, it seems I'm not the only McGrath who can put that freshly-fucked face on someone. Dillon was beaming Wednesday morning." Even under the sweat and the heat, I blushed. "Sorry, Paul, I couldn't help it. He just, well, we..." "No need to apologize, bro. I want you happy. If Dillon's the man for that, well, there's a little age difference between you guys but..." I laughed. "Damn, Paul, we're not getting married. We just fucked, that's all." He held up his hands. "All right, all right. Your brother' doesn't know how all this gay stuff works. I was about to say if he hurt you he was gonna hear from me," he said as our feet made metronome-regular crunches in the jogging path. "...only now I'm thinking Jim here's as much a heartbreaker as his older bro." He winked, and we both laughed. My brother and I were closer and it felt great. ****** It's funny how easy a fuck-buddy situation developed between me and Mark Dillon. It was a regular Tueday night, just like so many Tuesday nights when I begged off hanging out with the guys on the team after practice and came straight to the Elmwood Lane ranch-style house. Sometimes Mark got home before I arrived. This night I waited in my car. I could see the man's smile as he pulled up and saw me there -- and I loved it. "Little McG," he greeted me as he pulled his musclebound body out of his truck. Already he had a nickname for me, just like he had one for my brother, his riding partner. "Evening, Officer Dillon," I answered deferentially. Our bodies were being drawn to one another as if by magnetic force, but we didn't touch or hug in open view. We never did. "I thought you could use some company." Dillon smiled. "You bet. I've had a bitch of a day," he grunted. "Besides," he added, lowering his voice and leaning in a little, "my cop cunt has been feeling a little hungry since our last time." He knew what those words did to me. During our last round Mark pulled out the full arsenal of dirty talk. Hearing his gruff, bodybuiding policeman voice ordering me to do all sorts of nasty abuse to his body got me off big time. I nodded down to my crotch, where my erect monster wasn't doing a good job of staying tame. "Think this will be enough to satisfy your police pussy?" Mark had seen my prick before, many times. He'd sucked, jacked, and mounted my stalk. Still, his eyes widened every time as his brain processed my girth. Yeah, this is what I missed. A man turned on by what this high school jock could offer him. For the next hour I was gonna own Officer Dillon and for every second of that hour he was gonna want me. Once inside Mark had me sit on the couch as he pulled down my jeans. My prick sprang forth hard and eager. Dillon's mouth was just as eager. It swallowed wide, first a couple inches, soon the whole prick. I patted the top of his head and moaned in encouragement. "You this hungry when you suck my brother off, Officer?" A few things got Mark off. Me bossing him around. Me reminding him he was an officer of the law while he was servicing me. And me talking about my brother in a sexual way. I hadn't revealed that Paul and I had done it, and I wasn't gonna. But I could skirt around the taboo and make the sex hotter for both of us. "Man," Mark gasped as he came up for air. "You and McG got amazing cocks." "Maybe we should tag-team your sorry cop ass. Think you could handle two brothers at once, officer? Your burly partner and his kid brother." That got him. Roughly, Mark spit out my cock and stood up. Even under his dark blue uniform pants I could see him erect and fully charged. He fumbled with his belt and zipper and soon the dark material was hitting his leather shoes. He turned around so that I was face to face with his meaty ass. As he reached into the side drawer for the trusty tube of lube, I reached forward and grabbed his brawny cheeks, kneading them and giving them a quick slap. "Yeah, this cop is ready for its teen dick injection." My finger traced its way into the crevice of his superheated, hairy crack. "Want my jock cock violating this cop cunt, Officer?" Marks lube-wet fingers nudged my own in teasing his hole. Soon he was pushing his way in past the sphincter, and my finger was joining the party. Nice, slick, hot male asshole. I frigged him hard and I was sure I was bullet-punching his buttnut cause Mark's groans got loader and more frantic. He was nearly hyperventilating. Soon he withdrew his finger and let me do all the work. Finally, he reached back and grabbed my wrist, pulling my digital invader out. He wasted no time and squatted down. Instinctively reading the situation, I grabbed the base of my engorged cock and pushed it to an accommodating angle. We both sighed as my spike prodded against his pucker. I held my dick steady as the man's force backed his body down onto it. It punctured the tightness of his hole and readily slid right in. Several inches. I always worried about such a fast entry, but Dillon took it hungrily, gasping and sighing deeply. "Yeah, fuck me, Little McG. Own this cop hole. Nasty police cunt for you to use. You know that don't you kid? Know all you gotta do is come round and flash that big dick of yours and this officer's gonna spread his legs and put out for ya." "Oh man!" I exclaimed as I felt his tight ring butt against my pubic bone. "Better be careful what you say, Officer. This kid's horny pretty much nonstop." "Fuck yeah. Got your brother's big dick with a dose of teen hormones. Fucking walking erection." I'm not sure if he was ready to start bouncing on my lap but my hips began bucking him into a gentle fucking rhythm. "Goddamn, you cops turn me on." Weird thing is, I don't think I realized it til recently, but yeah, I was getting off on the whole powertrip of fucking a police officer. The uniform, the gruffness, the muscle, the strange unexpected deference I was getting from the man. "Would you fuck your brother?" This guy had some nerve asking a question like that. He just didn't know what a perv he had on his hands with Jim McGrath. Hell, maybe he did. "Fuck yeah. If he were gay." That got a rise out of Dillon. He started bouncing higher and faster, slamming his chute down on my stick harder. "Fuck!" I laid it on thicker. "Yeah, my bro's pretty hot. You seen his ass? Nice, chunky man mounds. I'd just part those babies wide til I saw his pucker, maybe eat my own brother out nice and good, til I couldn't take any more and just stuck it to him. My high stick up his cop hole." Now I was fucking up into Mark's ass at a pretty good clip and the man was doing his best to maintain his balance. I reached around his chest to clench his uniform shirt. "Oh man, I'd love to see that. You fucking your brother." "Yeah? You wanna see me take revenge on his straight ass? Give him payback for all the times he picked on me as a little kid. Made me suck his cock when he was in high school." OK, I was making stuff up now, but it did the trick. Dillon nutted. I couldn't see the spray but from the feel of his quivering ass, I was guessing it was a pretty good show. I was working up to a full steam, too, and I stopped holding back. I shut my eyes and felt my jizz shoot up deep into Mark's rectum. We both had to catch our breath. Eventually, my cop fuckbuddy pulled himself off my slowly shrinking my prick. As he stood up, he reached back and felt along his crack. Whether to see how far I stretched his pucker or how much seed I deposited, I'm not sure. Looking over his shoulder he surveyed my face and saw what I'm sure was the look of supreme satisfaction. I know I saw that look on his face. "Damn, you got a nasty mind, Little McG. Especially for a kid your age."