Date: Thu, 19 Jul 2018 15:26:50 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Naval Tradition 45 Naval Tradition Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between male relatives. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. If not, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and enjoy. For more of my stories, see the Authors page here at Nifty archive. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does. Please consider supporting them with a donation. This chapter has some more dramatic elements. Only two more chapter remain. Naval Tradition 43 Houston 2011 2011 sucked. The year had started off with Sean's mother's health taking a turn for the worst. He got the call on New Year's Day in fact and immediate started packing to fly out the next day. Within a week of his going home, she'd passed away. I flew down to South Georgia for the funeral. It was awkward and surreal in a lot of ways, but I think Sean was glad I could be there for support. Sean and his father were making peace in their way. Not patching up all their differences, but definitely coming together in grief. The man was cordial, if distant, with me. The one silver lining was that Sean was able to reconnect with some of his high school buddies. We hung out with a couple of them after the funeral and later that week. It was a somber yet lighthearted punctuation to a tough week. Sean's buddy Dave Ansell promised that he and his wife would come visit us at some point. **** We went back to Fayetteville and to normal life, but it was a tough month for Sean. He was moody, and while he never one to mope around, he expressed his grief through temper and frustration. I knew where it was coming from, so I let it roll off me. Our sex life took a pause, except for quick flares when Sean's libido would come back insistently and we'd have a quickie, often sucking each other off. February rolled around, and I felt bad for leaving Sean on his own in Fayetteville while I went off to Spring Training. "I'll be OK, Big Guy," he said the night before I flew down to Florida. One great thing about the majors was leaving the days of those long drives to Florida behind. "I remember how it is," I assured him. "Though I was a lot younger when my mom passed away." "I can't imagine," Sean said. "Well... I'm here for whatever you need. Maybe it's good you'll have some time without me around, but give me a call if you want to talk. Or if I'm not available, I'm sure Dad would be glad to talk to you." Sean nodded. "Will do. I must be a bitch to live with right now, huh?" "You're taking this as well as you can," I replied. "I admire you, Sean." He looked surprised. "For what?" "You're tough as nails. Inside and out. I don't know... it's one of things I love about you." His face wrinkled in emotion. "Aw, Jimmy. Come here," he stretched his arms open. I embraced him. We just held each other for a minute, then kissed. A soft kiss turned into more. Sean's libido was asserting itself and mine was more than happy to pick up where we left off. Soon we were writhing against each other in lust, our bodies pressed firmly against one another, shirts coming off, jeans being undone. "Your tough as nails boyfriend needs to get fucked, Jim," Sean breathed into my kiss. "You up for being my man tonight?" It was such a simple question but one that resonated. Sean's man. His top for the night. But also the bedrock in his life. "Fuck yeah," I growled. "I'm here for you Babe." I kissed along his neck and toward his ear, sticking my tongue in teasingly. Sean writhed and moaned. "You..." I said punctuating my kisses, "want... my... fat cock... in you... don't ya?" "Please, Jimmy," Sean growled, now using his strength to grip my ass and pull my crotch against his. "Use my hole tonight. I don't want to think about anything else but your cock." We fucked on the couch, impatient to go to the bedroom and taking advantage of a spare tube of lubricant in the side table. I went slow, but it had been a couple of months since I'd last fucked Sean. Too long, I thought as I felt his tight ring grip my rod. He looked up in my eyes in horniness but nervous submission. Sean was always scared of my dick, scared of letting himself go. Once we got into the fuck, once I was buried in him and he was relaxing, then it was different. He loved it. But that initial entry was a battle of wills inside him. Between defensiveness and letting go. And on nights like this, it was an act of physical violation, of his hole being stretched more than it wanted to be stretched. This all made my job more difficult but it was a major turn on, too. Like I was claiming something precious from the man every time I fucked him. Those eyes looking up at me, pleading. Pleading for me to go slow. Pleading for me to take him. To be his man. The second his tightness abated, I pushed in. "Oh fuck!" Sean cried, but kept his eyes on mine. And I fixed mine on his. The deepest connection we had was like this, one man's cock in another's ass, feeling the heat, even the heartbeat in the contact. I pulled back slowly and steadily pushed back in. "Fuck me Jim." "I got you babe," I grunted and fucked in again, firmer this time. "You need this," I said. He nodded. "I do." I thrust in faster. Sean was so tight and the emotions so high between us, this fuck was exquisite. Almost as good as the time I deflowered him on our camping trip. "Ohh, Jim." Sean was feeling it now. The pleasure of his prostate, vibrating and reverberating through his body. "That's it, Chief. Feel it. Let go. I got you...." I fucked harder. "Your man's got you." His eyes shut briefly, then snapped open. We didn't often maintain eye contact like this and it added an extra intensity. "Unnnnhh..." He was losing the ability or desire to speak in words. "You feel that, Babe? That big fat cock? You're taking it like a man..." I was enjoying taking charge of the verbal play as well as the fuck. I was horned up and knew I could come quickly, but I also felt in control of my orgasm and thrilled in the knowledge that Sean did not feel in control of his. "You want to come, Babe?" I growled, fucking Sean hard and staring at him even harder. "My big tough guy want to come with a cock up his ass?" Sean nodded and grunted. "Yes, sir. Please." I paused the fuck for a second, leaned up and grabbed the lube. I squirted some on Sean's raging hard prick then leaned back forward to resume my thrusting. "Have at it, Soldier," I growled. "Show me your load and I'll dump my cum in your wrecked pussy." The second I said "pussy" Sean's eyes rolled in the back of his head and his back arched. A high volley of sperm jetted out of his prick, all the way to his chin, soon to be joined by another. I pounded Sean through what had to be an intense cum. I was also working up steam for my final release. The sight of Sean orgasming was enough to get me there. I gave a few hard thrusts then held his legs steady as my prick unleashed its spray deep inside him. Our lips connected eagerly as we rode out the aftershocks. "Damn, Jim, thanks. I love you, man." ***** I worked my tail off in Spring Training, on conditioning and mechanics. I was doing OK in the exhibition games and putting 100 percent into my workouts. Unfortunately, with Sean not there, I found my attention turning to the hot men.... fans, reporters, coaches, a couple of the players. Nothing that I acted on, of course, but I was feeling horny beyond belief and had some major stroke sessions back in my room at night. I was able to coordinate some phone sex sessions with Sean. They reminded me of the time back when he was in the service, deployed. It helped that I knew Sean would be waiting for me in Houston. **** It's not like my 2010 season was a breakout but there was a lot of positive in my performance in addition to the challenges, plus the thrill of being in the majors. 2011 was much more of a struggle for me. My batting continued to slump, big time. Pitchers knew how to get in my head now, and what's worse the adjustments my batting coach advised didn't seem to take. It was pro ball, though, and I still loved what I did, day in and day out. Even with a tough loss or a lousy game. I just put my head down and tried harder, and worked on my focus. My saving grace was that my defensive play was really good. I had good reflexes, a quick head, and precision in my throwing arm. That wasn't enough to make for an illustrious baseball career or even make the GM happy. But it was something. Sean and Dad were my biggest fans, of course, Sean coming to all my home games, Dad traveling around to root for me at a few of my away games. It was early in the season when Sean and I decided to have a threeway. Well, I'm not sure it was a matter of deliberation, it just happened when the opportunity fell into our lap. Sean and I were out having drinks after one of the games in the series against the Padres. I loved nights like this, being out with Sean, but I was too guarded to have my post-game outing with him too often. Guys on the team thought he was just a friend of the family. I felt like a heel for having to hide Sean, even a little, but he understood. Maybe too well. Tonight was an exception, though, and I was enjoying it. Imagining what it would be to be out with Sean any night we wanted. We'd gone to a sports pub in town and were in the middle of our second pint when I saw a familiar person. Medium height, solid but not stacked build, wearing gray slacks and a polo shirt. It took me a half a minute to recognize him but then I placed the face: he was the sports reporter I'd flirted with in San Diego. The man looked over and saw me, giving me a quick surreptitious nod before turning back toward his buddy. "You look like you saw a ghost," Sean said, noticing my reaction. "Kind of," I replied. "Um... you remember the guy I told you about, the close call in San Diego." "Should I be jealous?" Sean asked. "We didn't do anything," I said. "But he's here." That piques Sean's interest. "Really? Where?" His head craned around. "Don't look straight over, doofus," I laughed. "He's over by the bar... where the brass railing is." Sean was smoother this time in sneaking a peek. He had a grin when he turned back. "The dude's hot. I'd bang him." "You like rubbing it in, huh?" He shrugged. "I'm serious. He's a hot guy." "I didn't think he'd be your type." "He's not," Sean said. "He's yours. But I'd fuck him in a heartbeat. You think he bottoms?" Sometimes Sean's direct crude manner could be off-putting, sometimes it could be refreshing. At that moment I couldn't decided which it was. "Our conversation didn't get that far.... but yeah, I got a vibe from him." "Sometimes life hands you some hot sports reporter ass on a silver platter," he said, as if he was waxing philosophical. I laughed. "You ass." "What?" Sean smiled. I was going to retort more in mock annoyance but then I noticed that the guy, Rick, walking toward us. "Shit," I whispered, "he's coming over." "Jesus, you're like a high school girl waiting to be asked to prom," Sean teased. "Hiya," Rick said. "Great game tonight. Though I wish you all had whooped the Padres' ass." "Hey, thanks," I said, shaking the man's hand. I could tell the man was trying to assess if he should stay to chat. "Rick, right?" I confirmed. "This is my buddy Sean. Sean, this is Rick. We met out in San Diego." "Pleased to meet you," Rick said, shaking Sean's hand. "Why don't you join us?" Sean said, laying on his easygoing charm. Almost instantly the awkwardness between me and Rick was diffused. "You don't mind? I was going to call it a night, but another beer sounds great." "I'll get it," Sean volunteered. "What do you want?" Sean went to fetch drinks, and Rick and I sat there, kind of smirking at one another. There was definitely attraction there. This guy was really good looking. He didn't have Sean's body, but he was in shape, and really friggin' handsome. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked, his pearly smile showing. "Nope," I said. "Just letting off some steam after the game." "It's like that for us reporters, too," he said, maybe getting a little nervous now. "Um... tell me if I'm being too forward, Jim, but I'm sad our conversation got cut short in San Diego." "Sorry, man," I said. "Circumstance, you know." He looked down to check if I had a wedding band. Seeing none, he said, "Girlfriend?" I shook my head no. I nodded over to where Sean was at the bar. I never talked about Sean being my boyfriend, certainly not with people I didn't know. But given the situation I felt it was OK. Rick's eyes widened. "Fuck? Really?" He looked back over at Sean. "Dude's a stud," he said real low. "But I wouldn't expect less for you." "You play the field?" I asked. I was curious what it would be like to be gay or at least into dudes in his profession. If it was hard as being a player. He nodded. "Yeah. Though I gotta be careful. I gotta a couple of buddies... a coach and an assistant manager, and we hook up from time to time. Never done it with a player, though. That's why I was surprised back when you gave me the eyeball when we met. I had to take a chance coming over tonight, see if it could happen." I was about to answer when Sean appeared, beers in hand. Sean was on that night, facilitating the conversation and getting both me and Rick talking about the tension and sometimes animosity between players and sports reporters. "We're just doing our job," Rick said. "I don't think players always realize that." I couldn't resist teasing. "What? Your job is to make us look like lazy fucks when we miss a couple of at bats?" "Poetic license," Rick winked, and Sean laughed. "You're on his side now," I attacked Sean, who held up his hands as if was neutral. "Man, if we really had it in for you, I wouldn't be fraternizing with the enemy," Rick said. Sean piped. "I have a feeling you'd be fraternizing all right." It was classic Sean, direct and to the point. It took Rick by surprise. Sean placed his hand on my shoulder. "I mean look at him." His voice lowered. "They don't make them any hotter than Jim McGrath, do they?" I blushed, and Rick's apprehension melted as he watched my embarrassment. "No, they don't," he said in a low, lusty voice. Sean took a sip from his beer and looked between us, then back over at Rick. "You feel like joining us tonight?" Rick seemed excited beyond belief. "Hell yeah," he said. I felt grateful to Sean. Not that he wasn't into this threeway, but I understood he was doing this for me. The excitement was palpable between us, but especially between me and Rick as we made our way into my place. Sean and I kissed, then I let Sean and Rick get acquainted. Then Rick had a big smile as he stepped up to me. "Your first player?" I asked. "Yes," he said and our lips met. My hands tugged on his polo shirt, freeing it from the tucked in position. "Come over here, Sean," I said. "Help me undress this hunk." Sean's hands explored under the man's shirt, up along his back. "Nice build," he said. "So... does Mr. Sports Reporter like getting fucked?" I thought the question might scare Rick off but instead he said, "Fuck yeah," and leaned up to kiss Sean. Hungrily. Sean responded with his own lust, taking charge of the kiss and reaching down to cup the man's ass. It was my first good view of Rick Torres's ass. Strong, bubble ass, nice and round. Perfect really. I don't know how I hadn't noticed it before. Sean leaned back, playfully leveraging Rick's shorter body up off the ground as they made out. That seemed to turn Rick on, Sean's greater stature and strength. "Fuck," he growled. "We're going to have some fun tonight, aren't we?" Sean asked, rhetorically I think. "Yeah man," Rick growled. I stepped back and started undoing my shorts. I was erect and dripping as I bared my cock. "I need my dick sucked," I announced, hoping Torres would take the bait. He did, nodding and shimmying down in front of me. "Jesus... this cock," he said. "It's insane." His fingers traced the length and gauged the girth before he plopped the head in his mouth. "Good?" Sean asked stepping up to me. I nodded and watched as Rick did his best to swallow my fat one. It was a trip to see a good-looking guy like this suck dick. "Want some?" I said to Sean, then guided Rick off my prick and over to Sean's. Sean and I kissed while Rick blew us in turn. Finally I stepped back from Rick's mouth. "Let's take this to the bedroom, man." I ate Rick out while the man was on all fours. It was exquisite, that ass, smoother than Sean's or Dad's or Jack's, but muscular too. It was clear Rick never missed a lower body workout. I think I actually heard Sean chuckle at how impetuous I was eating that ass. Finally, Sean's hand nudged me out of the way. I thought he might want his turn but instead he was fisting his hard cock, all lubed up, and he stepped up and mounted the sports reporter. "Unff!" Rick grunted. "Easy, man, it's been a little while." Sean paused and eased his entry. He ran his hands all over the man's built backside. Even if Torres was my type, Sean seemed into him all right. I got down and kissed Rick, alternating between full-on kiss and more playful meeting of lips and tongue. I think Rick loved the contrast between Sean's more forceful fucking and my more affectionate makeout session. Pretty soon, Rick was grunting in orgasm. "Jesus, you just go off?" Sean asked surprise. "Yeah, man," Rick replied looking back over his shoulder. "Sorry couldn't help it. Your dick feels amazing in my hole. Keep going if you like." Sean did. And now he wasted no time fucking to his own satisfaction. I loved watching Sean come. It was awesome when it was just us, but watching him fuck another guy gave another vantage point to my man's sexual satisfaction. And the smug look on his face as he pulled out. His dick was still firm as he gave Rick a light smack. "Your turn, Jim," he said. I scrambled into place, very excited to get into Torres's hole. I gripped the man's waist. Just a little padding around an otherwise tight core. Beautiful back that didn't so much flare as ripple from the lats to the delts. I pushed in, though the lube and Sean's jizz. The hole gave way but by a couple of inches Rick knew he had a thick one boring in. "Oh shit," he hissed. "You good?" I asked. "I'm gonna regret this tomorrow, but yeah, I'm good." Rick hissed. "Push that fucker in me, man." I did. Rick Torres was crazy tight. And I was very worked up. I wanted to make this last, but I knew I couldn't. A dozen or so fuck strokes and I was cumming. Hard. I gripped tighter and hunched over a little. "Oh fuck!" It was a very good orgasm, and I felt a little smug myself as I extracted my fat tool from the confines of this fine reporter ass. Torres shook out his legs and crawled out from under me. He got his balance back as he stood up. His dick dribbled and I realized he'd come a second time just now. His brow was covered in sweat but he had a big smile on his face. "Well that made my year. Thanks fellas." He reached down and smeared the errant cum shot on his hairy torso. "Mind if I shower off." Sean and I kissed when he went off to the bathroom. "Thanks, Chief," I said. "That was great." "I know when my guy's horny," he smiled. "Besides, it's hot watching you in action, Big Guy." **** Away games were the opportunity to have family see me play: John in Chicago, Paul in St. Louis, Matt in San Diego, now that he was back from deployment. In DC, Jack would join Dad. Dad was the only one attending that early July series in Pittsburgh, right before the All Star Break. Things would change in my life that week. The first night I was tired and after a beer headed to my own room for some rest and some time alone. But the second night I was in a better mood, despite the close loss. Moreover, I was horny, so when Dad asked if I wanted to come by his hotel room, I jumped at it. We didn't always have sex on these away games, but it was a nice thing to look forward to, should we both be in the mood for it. We were that night. We both had a smirk on our faces as we stepped up to one another. Lips touching, then tongues. Dad's arms around my body, mine around his. Our clothes came off and we fell on his bed. Making out, not in a rush. We didn't even discuss what sex we wanted. At one point Dad just rolled back and grabbed some lube. I watched excitedly as he slicked up his cock and then reached down between my legs, to feel for my hole. "I love you, Jim," he said, simply. "Love you too, Dad. So much." He crawled between my legs and lifted them up on his shoulders. He looked down on me, intently. Horny. Loving. "The first time I did this to you was one of the best moments in my life." With that he entered me. Dad's cock pushing into me. Where it should never be, should never have been. But it felt right. Perfect. I felt connected with dad. Not just physically but mentally that moment. He looked down and read every emotion and thought. Fucking me slow at first so I could get used to his size. Then picking up the pace. More than the speed it was the strength of his thrusts that challenged me. Punching that huge dick deep in me. Time after time. But I wanted it. Dad saw it in my face and smiled. "You can go harder, Dad," I said, and he did. "Fuck, that's good," I grunted. "Oh my boy," Dad said, clearly loving this. "Fucking take me as hard as you want, Daddy," I whimpered. I'm not sure I've called him Daddy much since I was young, but Dad's nostrils flared and he really want to town. Hard brutal fuck, right on the edge of what I could take, but I took it. Accepted my father's battering ram. Thankfully I didn't have to wait long for Dad's orgasm. His body was engaged in the full-pump thrusts, rapid in me, as he let out some heavy grunts and shot his wad. Lips pressed against mine hungrily, appreciatively. "That was amazing, son," Dad said as he finally raised above me in a push-up formation, catching his breath and feeling the aftershocks. He regained his composure. "You need to come?" He asked, realizing I'd not yet had my nut. "Yes, sir," I replied. Dad squirted some lube on my prick then started a slow thrust in and out of me. His dick was still erect, but it wasn't about his pleasure now but mine. The slower pace did wonders for me. It was like Dad was playing me like an instrument, his dick driving me crazy. I stroked and it didn't take me long. I felt like I couldn't come, wouldn't come, then my cock surged rigid and the pissslit opened up and heavy spurts of my seed sprayed out onto my chest. "That's it, boy. Let it loose. Let Daddy take care of you." His words just added to my orgasm. We cleaned off, exploring each other's bodies in the shower. Then, drying off, we playfully crawled back into his bed. "You got to get back, Slugger?" Dad asked, his hands exploring my chest. "I'm good, Dad," I said. "This feels amazing, being here with you." "I'm glad you're in my life like this," I said. We didn't often process the emotions of our incestuous connection, but it felt like the moment to. "We got a pretty strong bond, huh, Slugger?" "Yes, sir." We kissed, tongues touching. "So..." Dad started. "You OK with you and Sean getting close to me and Jack?" "Fuck yeah," I said, humping into Dad's body. "It's awesome." Dad smiled. "Sean likes it too," I added. "The whole incest thing. I think he had a thing for his dad." I wasn't sure I should share that information with Dad, but I knew I could trust him. "He told me," Dad said. "We've talked about a lot, me and Sean." My father ran his hand up my flank, sending goosebumps along my flesh. He seemed to hesitate, then spoke. "Son.... would you be OK if Sean started calling me Dad?" Our lips met once more. I was hard and horny again, and I could feel dad's prick was getting more erect, too. Dad reached down and guided my dick against his cock head, then just under the foreskin. I got the idea and thrust underneath the skin. Docking Dad. The edge had been taken off and we weren't in a rush. Dad wasn't even fully hard, which made the docking easier. We kissed and felt each other up and I gave small thrusts into Dad's hood. Finally I came, spurting a decent second load there. *** The next night for the team didn't look like it was going to go any better than the first two games of the series. Down 1-nothing up through the fifth. Then in the 6th, the pitcher started to wobble and our offense started to fire. I got a RBI double, then two at bats later, I was rounding third and booking toward home. I beat the throw but barely. But, sliding in to the plate, my knee buckled and twisted and I knew immediately what happened. A meniscus tear on the same knee I'd injured back in college. A coach and a trainer helped me to my feet and guided me to the locker room, where for the next hour the team staff looked me over. I showered up and after the game the manager and a few guys talked to me. I was in a daze and feeling no small amount of pain but I got the gist: a doctor's appointment the next day to assess options and they'd go from there. I hobbled out of the locker room with crutches and Dad was there, a worried look on his face. He grabbed my bag and helped me walk to his rental car. "How are you, Jim?" he asked as we walked along. "I'm fucking injured, Dad. How do you think I am?" This was the only the second time in my life I spoke out of turn to my father, but I couldn't help my emotions at that point. I was overwhelmed and feeling shitty. Dad, to his credit, took it in stride and didn't let it phase him. He could see the pain, physical and emotional, on my face. I gave Sean a call but had to be brief in giving him the update. I made up some lie about the drugs kicking in but truth was I was getting too distraught to talk about it. I apologized to Dad the next day and he just gave a quiet, "it's nothing, son... really." He took me to my specialist's appointment and was there when I got the news. I'd need reparative surgery and would be out the rest of the season. "That's tough, son," Dad said as we had dinner. I didn't have much appetite for food. "If you like, I'll take you back to Houston." I nodded my agreement. I had the best father in the world. I called Sean afterward and caught him up. I was able to go into more specifics now, and in fact I clung to all the medical detail and information the doctor had thrown at me as a coping mechanism. **** I'd done such a good job projecting confidence in my recovery that it took a week of me being back home for Sean to figure out things were bad. "All right, Big Guy, what's wrong?" he finally said one night. I looked up from the TV, feeling heavy in my thoughts. "I'm not going to play again, Sean, I just know it. Not in the majors at least." Sean looked concerned. "Is that what they said?" "No," I replied. "Fuck they'll never say that. It's all this wait and see business. But I was struggling before this injury, and now... fuck!" This was so hard to talk about without breaking down. Sean nudged my knee. My good knee. "Come on, Jim. You're just in shock from it. It's going to take time... the surgery and then the recovery. You can figure out your future then." It was optimistic and exactly what I wanted to hear. However, a month later, I talked to my uncle after the surgery and he confirmed what I was thinking. "Do you want the rosy picture, Jim, or the truth?" he asked. "The truth." "You're probably done in the majors. I hate to be the one to break it to you." I could hear the sorrow in his voice. He really didn't like being the bearer of bad news and was taking the role on for my sake. "That's OK, Uncle Mike. You're just telling me what I kind of already know." I didn't tell Sean about that phone conversation. He was convinced I was going to play again once I healed up. And part of me wanted his optimism to get me through this. It was more inclined to be realistic about things, but the problem was I slipped into a funk. More than a funk, a depression. I had nothing much to do with my day except sit around and watch TV. I tried to release my frustrations by hitting the weights harder, and indeed I was bulking up my upper body even more than during the start of season... shoulders, arms, chest, the whole works. But without much cardio or even walking, I started putting on weight in other ways, too. By fall, I'd gained fifteen pounds, and while that wasn't the end of the world, I started to feel worse about myself. Our sex life abated too. Not disappeared, but we'd gone from fucking like bunnies to maybe doing it once a week. Sean didn't press me on it but he had to be frustrated. Sean was the vision of patience in all of this, more than I would have expected. It turns out he gave me two months to the day from my surgery. "Turn off the TV," he said as he entered the living room one evening with two glasses and a bottle of nice bourbon I'd given him for his birthday. "You're going to tell me what's going on." It was the return of Bossy Sean and man did I need that. He wasn't mean or hostile but he was pointed in his questions. "What happens after you recover from this?" he asked me, pouring me some bourbon. "Either I go back to the minors, single A even, or I quit baseball." "You sure about that?" Challenging me. "95 percent sure. There's no way they bother rehabbing some guy with my stats." "You talked to your uncle?" "Yes. He's also pretty sure." He looked at me thoughtfully. "Well, you men know the game. So what do you plan to do?" "I'm not going back to the minors," I said. "So you're quitting baseball." I nodded, tears in my eyes. Sean could see the emotion tearing at me. "You can't say it aloud can you?" "No, sir." He patted my knee. "That's OK. We can talk more tomorrow, all right?" I nodded and regained my composure slowly. After a few minutes, I said. "I can talk some more now, Sean." I knew we needed to have this conversation. We'd been through a lot, not least Sean's deployment. I could man up for him when it counted. "You sure?" "Yes, sir." He rubbed my back affectionately. "If not baseball, what do you want to do?" "I don't what else I'm good at," I said. "Honest." He gave me a grimace. "You got a degree, right?" "Yeah." "What can you do with that?" "I guess it's kind of a general business degree. I could work in an office. I did the public accounting work in Chicago, and I could pursue that." His concerned expression brightened a little, happy I was talking this out. "Is that what you want to do?" "I don't know," I said truthfully. "I'll have to think it through. I'll talk to John." My oldest brother worked in finance and I knew he'd help me with advice. Sean patted my knee. "I love you, Jim, you know that?" My eyes were getting moist again. "Yeah, Chief, I know. I love you, too." I leaned forward and kissed him. A soft peck of a kiss, but we repeated it, with a little tongue and pretty soon we were making out on the couch. The sex drive I'd ignored came roaring back, and I clutched at Sean's powerful chest as his hands traveled down my stomach to unbutton my shorts. I moaned as his hands slipped under the waist band of my briefs and touched my cock. "My hung boyfriend," Sean growled, now frigging my meat with his fist. "You played in the majors, Jim. Remember, nothing can take that away from you. From me either." With that Sean got off the cushion and crouched down between my legs. For the next five minutes Sean Carter made love to my cock. I don't know any other way of putting it. It was worshipful, loving, and sexy as hell. I always loved watching him give me head but seeing how the silver was starting to really come in on his temples stoked my fires. And the look of determination on his face was incredible to witness. I tried to hold off the best I could but pretty soon my breathing was getting heavy and irregular and my nuts started tingling. "Oh Sean, man, I'm gonna cum," I grunted and then I fired my salty jizz right into his bobbing throat. Sean swallowed me, welcoming my essence into his strong body. As my last dribbles oozed out, he backed off and stood up, quickly undoing his own shorts and pushing everything down to expose his rock-hard prick. He stepped up and used the couch cushion for leverage as he pushed into my mouth and started rapidly fucking my face. His grip wasn't tight but it held me still as he thrust in and out about five times before his own sperm jetted into my mouth. Impossibly, he'd been more keyed up than I was. Sated, he hiked his shorts back up and collapsed back in the seat next to me, his chest heaving from the sexual activity and his mouth moist with spit and cum, a huge smile on his face. "That was hot, Big Guy." "Sure was," I said. He gave my injured leg a soft nudge. "I can't wait for you to heal so I can fuck you in any position I want." "That's what you think is going to happen, huh?" I teased. He gave me his military stern expression and cupped his junk lewdly. "Oh I KNOW that's what's going to happen." Kind of a joke but kind of his normal assertive self. He reached forward and uncorked the whisky bottle and poured us both another half inch in the glass. Then with comic timing he looked up at me and said, "Oh, did I interrupt your TV show?" I burst out laughing.