Date: Mon, 7 Jul 2014 13:05:26 -0700 From: Julian Otero Subject: Young Sailor Boys part 4 Young Sailor Boys Part 4 Please make a contribution to nifty so we can preserve this great archive When my assigned roommate didn't return for the second semester Peter and I arranged to share my room. My parents were pleased I was advancing so quickly, making friends and fitting in. If they only knew! I was fitting in to Peter's ass, or his cock was in my butt or my mouth almost every night. Cadet McBain would drop by once in a while to see how I was, and to join in our sexual delights. A few times we went to Lt. Charles' apartment, and my admiration for him deepened. A few times Anthony, who I think developed a crush on me, took the train to visit us and we kept him well lubricated. In our form it gradually became known that Peter and I were a "couple," and sometimes we were mildly teased, identified as "the lovebirds." Homosexual play in the Academy was pretty routine and usually no big deal, but exclusive couples like us were an exception. On the unspoken condition no untoward incidents occurred that embarrassed the school publicly the administration was pretty complacent about what went on in the dorms. As long as we boys didn't fuck on the lawn during parent visiting days, all was cool. Of course some of the staff (how many?) had their own favorite bedmates among the we youngsters. The Navy, the real Navy, I was gradually learning, was gay up and down the line especially on shipboard. I first heard the term "sea pussy" from a old U.S.N warrant officer visiting the school. Peter and I were pretty exclusive lovers, but—we had an agreement about this—each could occupy a strange bed once in awhile for variety or from curiosity, and in that way we began to learn some of the unusual types of sexual satisfaction some boys needed. Most popular was bondage: I thought it odd a boy needed to be tied up and blind folded and would even cum as soon as touched. Some boys, even the youngest, wanted to be whipped (no marks, please) or even pissed on. And then there was the temptation of virginity represented by the cute young boys among each new class whose puppy eyes caught ours. Such innocence was a challenge to our skills of seduction. But mostly it was the two of us, Peter and I, together in each others arms under the sheets each night. A round of sixty-nine was a favorite position because it also allowed for ass licking, something both of us found very, very pleasurable, and which we reserved only for each other. (Not that we refused another boy's tongue there if it was offered: that happened more than you would expect. We cadets were expected to be clean in body always, if not mind). Over time Peter and I grew into very skilled lovers. We knew each other's body intimately, every inch and fold and crevice. The taste of his genitals and sperm was as familiar to me as the school food served, and just as sustaining. I felt so close to him, more intimate than with any other one in my young life. Through long cold nights when we curled together in his bed or mine, when I could feel his soft dick against me, listen to his soft breathing, smell the healthy smell of his arm pit, his warmth, those times I felt most secure and close to his soul. When he was gone home for a night or two I would take his used underwear to bed with me for comfort. Peter's young love enveloped me like a shield against the rougher edges of life and I tried to be his shield in the same way. Not that it was all sex. But we had a love, or I had a love for him apart from just sex, no matter how needful the physical part was. I remember many quiet winter nights at our desks, each lost in study, when I would silently turn to look at him, to remind myself he was still there, and I was happy. His profile, his fine arms and legs, the shape of his head, still there. In those moments, just like at his family's dinner table that first time, I would feel a warm love course through me. His boyish laugh, his flashing eyes, the freckles that appeared on his nose occasionally and quickly faded, they belonged to me. Often, just the sound of his voice could sometimes make me erect. There wasn't anything I didn't like about his slim smooth body. I kissed his toes, the back of his knees, licked his ears, nibbled on his fingers, cut his nails for him and trimmed his hair. I even liked the way he sneezed. Yet none of his physical qualities would have held me as long had it not been for his appealing personality, his complete honestly and lack of guile. Even at that young age I knew it was risky to be so enthralled and captivated by one person: I was risking the pain of great disappoint if he were to turn away from me to one of the other boys. More than a few had made clear their interest in him. I was falling in love with the school, too. We took summer courses so we could enjoy the magnificent campus and its facilities, the squash and tennis courts as well as sail and play baseball. Peter's body took a tan quickly, mine more slowly. In summer session students were allowed to swim and sunbathe naked by the large outdoor pool. I grew to love the old buildings, the green lawns and mature trees, the traditions of the school, the military rituals, even though I was a budding pacifist. When you're young it's easy to hold contradictory views until you sort things out. Yes, I probably loved him too much. He could hurt me easily with a careless remark, but he was always sure to sooth my pain later with a sincere kiss. Peter did love me I'm sure of that, but not in the same blind way I loved him. I remember it so well. It was such a long time ago. There was a dark cloud in this magnificent, free time of life. It happen in the fall of my second year. I was alone in the storage shed off the baseball field after a game putting gloves in their allotted spaces. I became aware that someone was near me. No one was around since the game ended twenty minutes ago. Normally not easily startled, I did feel that time a creepy sudden unease. He took me from behind and from his foul smelling breath I knew it was Cadet Melvin, the bully who been stalking me. I was in a choke hold before I had time to act. "I got you now, you little faggot! You little cock sucker...you been teasing me since last year...you think you're so hot little faggot!" His voice was shaky and barely in control. "I'm fucking your ass goddamn pervert..." My arm was pinned behind me and twisted up to my shoulder. "You little cunt!" he kept repeating. I struggled and tried to kick him, but that only increased the pressure on my neck and the twist on my arm. I tried to talk, I tried to say I wasn't teasing him, to plead to let me go. It didn't fucking matter because my wind pipe was squeezed so much I couldn't breath hardly, let alone say anything. I started to pass out. What I remember next is being on the ground face down, my shorts and jock around my knees, this creep hunched over me biting my ass. Biting hard. Very hard. I started to scream. He slammed my head against the tiles, told me to shut up or he'd kill me. I could feel my groin pressed in a pool of wetness and realized I had pissed myself. Cold sweat enveloped me. This brute, I realized, could kill me if he wanted with only his strong hands. The bites on my ass stung like hell. Then he tried to force his whole first into my asshole. Tears were streaming down my face. His creepy breath was hot on my neck and he began to bite there too. "Rape." The word flashed in my brain. This is what rape is like. I'm being raped. He was choking me again. I felt I would die because this boy had turned into an animal totally out of control, something not human at all. I don't know if I was hallucinating or not, but through the screaming red haze in my brain I heard a faint distant voice familiar to me. I threw up. Cadet Melvin was brought up on charges in a closed meeting of the commander, two officer-teachers and two senior students. I was required to sign a statement which my father reviewed and approved. In those days sexual assault was not given the weight it has today. Melvin, because his official record contained no other serious infractions, was allowed to quietly "graduate" early on condition that he enlist in one of the services. Lt. Charles, who was one of the judges, later told me the hearing had provided him with pretty good jerk-off material for a week. I didn't like what that revealed about him and though he remained my favorite teacher I avoided sex with him thereafter. He was the one who came looking for me at the ballfield. My life in the arms of my lover Peter resumed. He was very comforting and tender with me when I awoke in the night with horrible flashbacks. It took awhile for my sexual appetite to return to normal, coaxed back slowly by Peter's appealing body and remarkable patient understanding. He really was an exceptional person. POSTSCRIPT Vietnam ended our love life. I went to college, and Peter, who was more patriotic, joined the Navy. He was in one of the first classes to train as Navy Seals, and one of the first to be killed. He was shot through the neck during a night operation in Hai Phong Harbor. North Vietnamese patrol boats were waiting, the operation probably betrayed by our so-called allies, the South Vietnamese. This happened before most of us even heard of Vietnam. His body was not repatriated until the early 1990s. His broken body floating in the oily and greasy water still sometimes disturbs my sleep. I try to visit his grave once a year. And wish I could feel his adolescent arms around me once more. I hope you will email me your thoughts and reactions to this story if you have done so yet, or even if you have. Please put the story title in your email subject line. Thanks. Julian ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com