Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1999 02:17:45 -0700
From: 10501 <ttott@solutionmast.com>
Subject: working in the bowling alley

In '69 or '70 I was attached to a U.S. military base located in a
non-English speaking allied country.  I was just beginning to come to grips
with my homosexuality.  I had been attracted to other males since at least
the age of six and would do anything I could think of to get another male
naked or to be naked for another male.

But now, I was in the Service and it was long before the days of "don't
ask, don't tell."  Every now and again, suddenly some other guy would be
called out and when and if he came back to the barracks, he'd be ashen
white.  Then in a few days or so he'd be gone and word would leak out,
"Someone he'd known elsewhere had been caught and given his name as a fag
sex partner."  There was such a climate of fear and danger associated with
being gay and in the Service that, I at least, was in constant dread, and
kept it in my pants.

At the point where my story begins, I'd been in for two and a half years
and only had one and a half years to go before my enlistment would be up
and I'd be free.

My military job was such that I had a lot of time off.  But being as how we
were in foreign country and I didn't speak the language, and, then too, I
couldn't afford to make a mistake, I kept quiet and busy.  I worked at the
base bowling alley when not on duty.  That put a few (believe me very few)
extra nickles in my jeans and gave me something to do when I was not being
military.

Then too, many of the beautiful young males would come to the bowling alley
to blow off steam and kill time.

There was one really beautiful young guy, I've forgotten his name, who
would come and bowl.  He also used to bring a large pad of sketch paper and
he would do sketches of the people in the alley.  Many family members of
the Servicemen would also come to the bowling alley.  During the summer the
teenagers would be there, too.  There was no high school for them on, nor
near, the base.  They had to be boarded out some several hundreds of miles
away in yet another allied country during the regular school year.
Well, I noticed this beautiful young Serviceman.  I'd have had to be blind
not to notice him.  Anyway he always had a smile and I began to notice that
he was always more friendly, more interested, more outgoing with the males
in the alley than with the females.
I wondered if that just might mean something.  Well, I could hope couldn't
I?

After watching him over several days, I noticed that he drew sketches of
more men and teenage males than he did of any females.  I began to chat him
up.  I complimented him on his drawing.  It really was good.  I asked if he
hoped to become a serious artist when he got back to the States?  "Oh, yes,
that is my dream"  was his response.  Then, thinking I was being so clever,
I suggested that all the great artists had done numbers of still lifes, and
other specific catagories of renderings including nudes.

He agreed and said that he feared that his abilities with the nude form
might atrophy a bit while he was in the Service.  He could not afford
models and if he just walked up to Servicemen and asked them to please
strip for him and hold that pose, he was afraid of getting his face
re-arranged.  We both laughed.

I told him that he owed it to his art to at least try.  He gave a rueful
grin and we parted company for that day.

The next time I saw him, I told him that I had a whole weekend off and if
he did too, I'd be glad to take him in my car to some of the sites of old
ruins so that he could sketch them.

He perked right up and called his duty desk and asked if the new schedule
had been posted.  It had, and he was off!  That did it.  We went back to
the barracks and threw some clothes and stuff into a couple of gym bags and
off we went.

We got miles away from the base and I found us a room in a local hotel.
 Not one of those fancy hotels where the tourists all stayed, but a hotel
used by the locals.  That meant there was no bathroom in the room.  There
was a sink and running water.  The room's door had a pane of rippled glass
that ran down the middle of it.  That meant that for privacy we had to have
our lights out.  There were two beds in the room.  No sooner had we each
staked out a claim to a bed than out came the sketch pad and he did a
sketch of the room.  It really was quite good.

I had brought a deck of cards, thinking that maybe I could get him naked by
suggesting a game of strip poker.  Back in those days a Serviceman's pay
was not much to brag about so unless you were pretty high up and earning a
bigger paycheck, you couldn't afford to gamble.  We had eaten on the base
just before leaving and so we each reclined on our bed, on our sides facing
eachother.  I was so horney and so nervous that I nearly vibrated.  Once
again, I told him that he owed to his art to keep his skills up.  He
acknowledged what I had said.  Then he said something which gave me a
sudden and real reason for hope.

He said that to help him work on physique drawing he used to buy those
little magazines where young men and boys would pose either in tiny straps,
or naked.  He would then work on copying the photos with his pencil or
charcol. He just didn't feel right now like drawing.  I asked if he'd like
to play some cards.  His eyes lit right up and he rushed from his bed to
mine.

Sure he'd love to play cards.  We played several hands of poker, without
betting anything on them.  After ten or so minutes, I said that I liked
poker but you needed to bet something to make it interesting or it would
get boreing.  He jumped at that and said, "Yeah, but what can we afford to
loose?"  I shrugged my shoulders and dealt another hand.  When that hand,
too, ended without any betting, I said, "It would have to be something that
wasn't cash and that in the end we wouldn't permanently loose."  That
sounded good to him.

We played another couple of hands when I said that back when I was in the
Boy Scouts, on campouts, we'd play strip poker, that after a guy was naked
if he lost again he had to do whatever he was commanded to do for the rest
of the evening.  And, each guy could only get his clothes back by winning
them.  (In the Scouts we'd just make a guy who'd lost his clothes and then
lost again, jack off for us.  Then he had to sit there naked while each
subsequent looser also jacked off until only one guy was left.  Then
everybody would get dressed and go back to their tents.  So I guess you
could say that the winner was really the looser.)  There was a brief
silence after that then he smiled and announced that sounded good to him.
 But, I had better be careful as he intended to win and could think of a
lot of things he'd enjoy having me do.

I was so excited that I made myself wait a beat or two so that my voice
wouldn't be a squeak then said, "OK the next hand will be for our socks
(we'd already removed our shoes).  Also, it would be more embarrasing for
the looser if the winner removed the item from the body of the looser."
 That would be just fine with him he said.  We played first he lost his
socks, and I removed them.  They were removed as a pair since they were so
small and allowed us to get down to the big stuff much sooner and easier.

Then I lost my socks and he removed them.  Then I lost again, and I stood
up for him to take my shirt, but he reached for the button on my pants.  He
informed me that since we hadn't specified the exact piece of clothing he
was making a choice.  He unsnapped my button and grabbed the little tag for
the zipper.  He was using both hands and was feeling me up as he was slowly
lowering my zipper.  I was loving it!  Finally, (but it seemed too soon) he
had the zipper down and then reached up and slid my pants down to my
ankles.  I stepped out of them and back up onto the bed.

The next hand, I called that if I lost it would be my shirt, but if he lost
it was going to be his pants.  He laughed and said that sounded fair enough
to him.  Well, he lost and I returned the favor.  I gave grope for grope
and enjoyed every bit of it, but something had begun to suggest itself.  In
my groping of him, at first I had thought that he had a roll of socks
stuffed into his jockeys.  If he didn't then he was hung like no human I'd
ever seen.

He noticed the surprise and even disbelief on my face as I lowered his
pants.  He laughed again and asked me if I knew what "proud flesh" was?  I
didn't know.

He lost the next hand and I removed his shirt.  Neither of us was wearing
an undershirt so now he was in just his jockeys and I had my jockeys and
shirt on. With my fevered mind only contemplating snatching his jockeys, I
forgot to "call" an item of clothing.  I lost and expected him to take my
shirt.  He took the opportunity to remind me of my failure to "call" the
bet and ordered me to stand at the side of the bed and hold still.  Angry
with myself, but enjoying the thought of his fingers playing with my
package again, I complied.

He reached up under my shirttails and began slowly, ever so slowly to peal
my jockeys down.  He'd pull for a centimeter or two and then stop and feel
my cock and ball sack.  He'd roll my balls around in their sack behind my
penis and all the while I was trying so hard not to spring a full bonner.
 I was loving, absolutely loving the sensations of another man's fingers
playing with my favorite toy, but for fear of his ridecule I was desperate
not to be rigid when the thin layer of cotton was finally removed.
 Finally, he could delay it no longer and my jockeys were around my ankles
and I stepped out of them.  I pulled the shirttails down and tried to hide
my package behind them.

Now was the hand which would decide who was to be the first to be naked.
 He got three sevens and I got three nines.  I breathed a deep sigh of
relief and ordered him to stand beside the bed.  He stood there where he'd
been told to.  He was obviously disappointed.  I reached for his shorts and
at first I thought to give him grope for grope.  Then I thought about how
much I had enjoyed the gropes and decided it was time for him to know who
was in charge.  I decided that any pleasure he was going to get would come
from giving me pleasure, so I took a grip at the top of each hip and pulled
the shorts down to his ankles and ordered him to step out of them.

My God, but he was beautiful naked.  I could easily have just sat there and
become drunk in his beauty.  Its funny but I didn't concentrate on his
package at that time.  I was so taken with the incredible beauty of his
entire body that concentrating on just one part of it didn't occur to me.
 This was not his first gay sexual encounter, not by a long shot.  It was
only my third so I was still quite new to it all.  Finally he said, "Can I
sit back down now and play the hand that will get you naked, too?"  I
studdered and said, "Sure.  But, it may end up with me still wearing my
shirt and you having to follow my orders."  He laughed and said that didn't
seem likely to him.

So he sat back down on the bed absolutely naked and achingly beautiful
across from me.  I told him, "You know you look like one of those guys who
pose in the little magazines you were talking about a few days ago."  He
said, "I did.  Now let's play, I want you naked."  Well the fates were
smiling on me that night.  I won this the last hand.  You could see the
surprise on his face.  He had not been expecting it.  The problem was that
my very few previous experiences had not equiped me to take serious command
of the situtation.  I just didn't quite know what to do.

Then remembering how much I'd enjoyed it when he had been fingering my cock
and balls through my shorts, I ordered him to give me a ball massage as a
preliminary to my pleasures of the evening.  He reached up to open the
buttons of my shirt, but I stopped him cold.  "You haven't earned the right
to see me naked.  You have become mine for the evening."

I spread my legs apart and ordered him to lie down on his belly between
them.  Then I had him reach up under my shirttales and massage and play
with my ball sack.  The sensations I felt as he worked his slim artist's
fingers over, under around and beside my balls were wonderful.  I would
have been willing to spend the next fifty years just like that.  After a
few moments of allowing myself to become lost in the pleasure his fingers
were giving me, I came back to earth enough to look down at his naked body
prostrate before me.  His backside was just as beautiful as his front was.
 He had a beautiful high rounded milk white butt that fairly screamed "Fuck
me!"  I reached down and ran my fingers and hands all over his back.  I
couldn't quite reach his butt while he and I were in this position.

I let him pleasure me for a bit then, knowing that I could always return to
those delights, I ordered him to stand beside the bed facing the door.
That put him sideways to me.  I took both hands and slowly ran them over my
trophy.  I felt the smoothness of his skin, the difference in the textures
of his hairless but shapely pecs and the velvety smoothness of his nipples.
 My left hand spread out and sensed his back and the upper reaches of his
buttocks.  My right hand slowly slid down his swimmer-flat abdomen and
played in the top of his sandy blond pubic bush.  Finally, I dropped my
right hand and cupped his balls.  They were smaller than mine, but then
most guys' balls are smaller than mine.  It was what I felt infront of his
balls that made me order him to turn around and face me.

He had a hard-on.  No, he had a HARD-ON!  I had never seen its like before
and hope, frankly, never to see its like again.  He was packing an honest
14 inches.  I just sat there and stared until his chuckling brought me back
to the reality of time and place.  "Remember, I told you that you'd find
out what 'proud flesh" is?'  he asked me.  I just sort of nodded my head
for a yes.  Then he brought both hands up from his side and placed the
first hand down at the point where his cock joined his body.  The other
hand was then placed so that it was in complete contact with the lower
hand.  His cock was thus being held by both hands, but there was still
another 2 inches give or take a quarter inch sticking out beyond the upper
hand.  He nodded his head at the "excess" as it stood proudly above both
hands and said, "That is 'proud flesh.'"

In the invervening years I have read countless gay stories and fantasies.
 In many of these fantasies and stories the narator is seeking after guys
with huge cocks.  There I was on that evening so long ago and I had no idea
what to do with this thing.  I knew that I could not get even an
interesting percentage of it into my mouth and the thought of it in my ass
terrified me.

I grabbed a hold of his ball sack and ordered him to jack off while facing
me.  He spit into his hand and began to work his cock.  It had already been
dripping dick honey.  Pretty soon, I could feel his nuts trying to draw up
into the top of the sack so that he could shoot out his babybatter.  I
tightened my grip and pulled down on his sack.  He groaned and would have
stopped jacking but I ordered him to continue.

Up and down his hands went.  His pelvis went back and forth.  Suddenly I
ordered him to stop.  He did stop but only with some difficulty.  Again, I
tightened my grip and pulled down on his nuts.  Again he groaned.  Now,
kneel I ordered and he knelt.  Massage my balls I instructed while I was
sitting on the side of the bed.  He reached up and took my balls in his
hands.  Those same hands which had just been trying so hard to bring
himself off.  Those hands were now only concerned making me feel good.
 Alright put your hands behind your back and wash my balls with your tongue
was his next instruction.  He looked even more beautiful with his hands
behind his back as he licked all over my balls.  He tried to get my scrotum
into his mouth but it wouldn't fit.  One ball at a time would fit and that
was how he pleasured me.

Enough!  I laid back on the bed.  While I was trying to think of what next
to order, he looked at me and asked if I were having trouble deciding on
what should be next?  He had stood up and was standing there beside the
bed.  His hands were behind his back and his mouth was ringed in his own
spit admixed with no small amount of my dick honey.  He knew that he was
more experienced than I.  I guess he might even have guessed how little
experience I had.  There I was lying on my back on the bed.  He got to the
foot of the bed and still with his hands behind his back knelt on the bed
between my feet.  He brought his hands around and taking one of my feet in
his hands, he brought it up to his mouth.  Working from the outside toward
the middle he sucked and licked and laved each toe.  Then he moved to the
other foot and performed the same service for it, too.  Then he licked the
sole of each foot.

The sensations were electric.  I felt an erotic pleasure I'd never dreamed
of and at the same time a tickling so intense that it bordered on searing
pain.  Slowly he moved up from my feet tracing his way with his tongue up
the inside of my legs to inside of my knees.  There once again, I felt the
most incredible erotic pleasures mixed with a tickling that was so
uncontrolable and intense that it bordered on pain.  When he had these
sopping with his spit, he moved my legs farther apart and began to lick his
way up my thighs until once again he was arrived at my ball sack.  He
licked and sucked my balls and finally when I could stand it no more, I
grabbed his head and holding it in place fucked my cock up and into his
mouth.

He was expecting this and was open and ready.  The second my cock entered
his lips closed on my cock and he began suctioning and bobbing.  His tongue
wrapped itself around my very happy dick and made love to it.  He was
incredibly gifted in his tongue.  It occured to me that had I been an
Emperor of old and he my slave for real.  I would have ordered my surgeon
to split his tongue so that it could perform its magic on both sides of my
cock at the same time.  Anything less would have been a waste of a great
natural resource.

I ordered him to return both hands to my balls and massage them until I
ordered him to stop.  I wanted this to last for eternity.  But, alas, that
was not to be.  Between the suctioning the rubbing of his cheeks and lips
and the work of his tongue and fingers, I finally reached the point of no
return.  I grabbed his head and thrust up into it again and again.  I had
the most intense cum of my then young and not very experienced life.  I
came and came and came.  A fleeting thought came to me that I might just
exhaust my balls and never be able to cum again.  The pleasures and
sensations I was experiencing were so intense that even that possibility
seemed an acceptable penalty to pay for the joy I was having right then.

I can't really tell you how many shots I fired.  I know that when it was
over, IT WAS OVER!  I was drenched in sweat.  I held his head to my crotch
with my dick in his mouth for a long time afterward.  Perhaps as much as
ten minutes elapsed while I slowly came down from the heights I'd ascended.

When my grip on his head relaxed he slowly got up and dragged himself to
his bed.  There he sat and began to jack himself off.  He asked me for
permission to cum and I could only wave my hand in acknowledgement.  He
asked me if I'd help him get off.  He asked me to please come up and kneel
over his face and let him suck my cock as he jacked himself off.  Feeling
noble and expansive, I stumbled off my bed and over to his and knelt with
my knees on either side of his pelvis and fed him my depleated and very
happy dick.  He suckled on me like a calf which had lost its mother and
only just found her.  I had thought I wouldn't be able to cum again,
especially so soon, but before long he had me hard and interested again.

I couldn't believe it.  I even believe that it came as a surprise to him.
 I immediately ordered him to let go of his cock and using both hands begin
to massage my balls again.  It took longer and wasn't as intense as before
but it was, after all, a blow job.  I came again in his oh, so talented
mouth.  This time after I did my best to drown him again I left my cock in
his mouth and gave him permission to bring himself off.

With a little cry he grabbed his half hard dick and began the age old
motion on it.  This was different in that he could and did use both hands
at the same time on his monster cock.  When he finally came, he shot
cock-snot over my head and onto the wall above his bed.  The later shots
landed lower and lower down until one hit the back of my head and the last
hit me squarely between the shoulder blades.  I pulled out of his mouth and
made sure that he'd gotten all of my cum and none was left on my cock
anywhere then I sat on his now deflating cock and ordered him to suck his
cum out of my hair.  He complied and then we each retired to our beds and
slept until the morning when we had to give up the room or pay for another
night.

We spent that next day charging around in some local ruins which he
sketched.  We remained friends and talked and joked frequently on the base.
 We were never able to get together for sex again before his unit was
transfered back to the States.  Just before he left he told me that he was
married and had just heard from his wife that she was pregnant.  He was
very happy about the pregnancy, but a bit mystified as he'd been told that
he couldn't father children.  I wished him good luck and have wondered
whatever became of him.