Date: Tue, 8 Jun 2021 15:39:51 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Naval Tradition Revised 25 Naval Tradition REVISED EDITION Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) with Corporal Cody NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between men, including male relatives. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does and the writers it publishes. Please consider supporting them with a donation. This is the revised and retconned version of Naval Tradition, told in chronological order. While the overall story is the same, there is lot of new content here (and some of the old parts didn't make the cut in this version). This revision has been a collaboration with fellow writer Corporal Cody. My thanks to him for his considerable contributions to and inspiration for this version. Feel free to drop a line if you enjoy it: billdrake@hotmail.com. I hope to have an ebook version at the end of this, so you can let me know if you want to be on the mailing list for that. NAVAL TRADITION Bill Drake, with Corporal Cody PART FOUR: BACK TO NORMAL Chapter Twenty-Five Charlottesville, Summer 2004 The Cavaliers baseball team had the NCAA regional tournament the weekend after my brother Matt's commissioning. UVA hosted it that year, and while I wasn't on the roster, I was there in my uniform and cheering from the dugout. It was great to be there to support my teammates Vanderbilt would be one of our opponents, so I'd been texting my high school buddy, Rick Bryant, the week running up to the tournament. Rick went to Vandy, and while he wasn't a school spirit kind of guy, he followed the baseball team, and we had a friendly rivalry going on in our text banter. But the Cavs ended up losing to Vandy in the third and final game, which meant our season was over. We had a solid season to be proud of, though, and I already looked forward to next year, when I'd be able to play more. In some ways it was lousy timing that my knee was fully healed just as our season was winding down. But I also knew I tended to direct emotional issues in my life into baseball, and lord knows I'd had a lot going on that spring - from the incestuous sexual tryst with my father to figuring myself out with a string of encounters with older men. Last winter, I fell into a major emotional slump, but now I channeled some of the same issues into working out, practicing, and conditioning. I'd already given Dad a heads up that given my baseball schedule, I wasn't able to make the trip to Norfolk to see him off for his three-month tour. Matt had actually already left for Pensacola and was probably already neck deep in training, but Paul and Megan were there for his send off. A selfish part of me had hoped to go down to Norfolk to see if I could hook up with Navy vet Brian again. I knew that was a bad ulterior motive, but I guess it was a good sign I was lusting for someone other than Dad. Dad and I had a long phone call where I reassured my father that he'd see me when he was back in the states come September. Since the phone calls would be few and far between, he added that the occasional email filling him in on the mundane details of my uneventful college life would be very welcome. Grounds, what we called campus at UVA, were quiet during the summer session, and I had a pretty regular schedule: running first thing in the morning, a lazy breakfast, hitting the gym for weight training around 10, lunch, then afternoon batting practice. I'd usually grab dinner with my teammates. Some nights I was tired and just ended up hanging out at the apartment watching baseball with a couple the guys, or just alone. Other nights, especially the weekends, there was always a party somewhere on or near campus. I occasionally still met up with my old dorm roommate, Tim, for a meal or at a party. I even went to a downtown art opening event with him. But since I'd cut way back on the weed, it felt like Tim and I had been hanging out less compared to my freshman year. He was still a good friend, though, even if we had little in common. Holt was taking summer school to make up for one of his failed classes from the fall semester of last year. Plus he was working a new retail job at a nutrition supplement store in the mall. So I basically never saw him the first part of that summer. I guess one benefit for me was that Holt could get me a discount on protein and supplements. While Charlie was busy, I did become good buddies with a freshman pitcher on the team, now a rising sophomore, Kyle Avery. He was a hair shorter than I was - 6'2" to my 6'3". As a pitcher, he was much leaner than I was as much of his bulk seemed to go to his sinewed arms and strong shoulders. He kept his deeply dark brown and straight hair longer than I did, the top brushed up and back with a low fade when he wasn't wearing his cap. His eyes were also brown in contrast to his pale complexion. Which only added to his boyish face, which made him look even younger than he was. Kyle was also the funniest dude I knew and could have me in stitches from laughing so hard, particularly when he did impressions. He did a spot-on imitation of Coach O'Connor. We both were in a similar boat with baseball: obsessed with the game, not talented enough to be stand-out stars but dedicated to becoming better and going pro if we could. Kyle became my workout buddy and we increasingly hung out on the weekends as well, goofing off or watching an afternoon game on TV. Kyle was very different than Holt, and with Kyle I never felt comfortable revealing I was gay. Maybe he wouldn't have an issue with it. But he was one of the team, and I just couldn't take that chance. On the other hand, it was great to have a friend push me in my workouts, and I was glad to see my body responding. I started the summer at a leaned-down 200 pounds and now set out to add five pounds of muscle by the fall. Between my diet and workouts, I could tell I was making a lot of success. The gains were to improve my game, but I also realized their effect on my appearance. I still looked young, very much like a college kid, but I was gaining the fuller build of an adult, and starting to achieve that muscular balance I appreciated in other men. As I examined myself in the mirror after my daily shower, I could increasingly see what other men saw in me. I tried not to be too conceited, and maybe I wasn't successful on that front, but it was nice to gain more confidence in myself. *** My brother Paul and his wife moved to St. Louis that summer. He'd lined up a job on the suburban police force out there, and he and Megan found a house one neighborhood over. When Paul and I had talked on the phone, he seemed excited by the move. "Time for a change of pace," he said, in his inimitable laid back way. "Besides, Megan and I are planning on having kids, and it'll be great to have her parents around to help out." I thought about the contrast with Dad, who was gone for months at a time. I knew it tore at my father not to have been there with us more growing up, and now that I was in college I had a deeper perspective on just how tough it must have been keeping things going after Mom died. There were family friends to help out, and my older brothers to look after me. But still, I'd been so engrossed in what it meant for me at that age, that only now did I have a different perspective. They'd hired movers to take their stuff cross country, but Paul and Megan would be driving Paul's truck out to St. Louis. On their way, they stopped for lunch in Charlottesville, meeting me at a casual place on the "The Corner," the strip of bars, restaurants, and shops near campus. Megan was visibly excited to be moving back home, and Paul seemed comfortable in his new identity as family man. "Dad's going to miss having you all around Norfolk," I said at one point as I stirred my straw in my watered-down soda. Paul seemed unfazed. "Eh, I think he'll enjoy some quiet time. Maybe more than he realizes. The man's a workaholic," my brother said. "Hopefully he can have some fun at some point." We gave each other a round of hugs as they got ready to hit the road again. "Take care, Jimbo," Paul said as he patted my back. I wasn't as close to Paul as I was Matt, and maybe lately we talked even less frequently. But he'd been an important presence in my life during high school and had been the first family member I came out to. I now had a feeling I'd be seeing a lot less of him, and I knew I'd miss him. *** After a dry spell of a month, I wanted sex, bad. I still considered hitting up Brian and offering to drive down to Norfolk, but I thought better of the idea. Despite our chemistry last time, I had no indication he'd even be interested in a repeat, and Norfolk was hours away. Instead, I decided to take a chance using the hookup site again. I was somehow more nervous this time as I scrolled through the profiles. It was thrilling and nerve-racking at the same time. I remembered how Brian recognized me and the chances were even greater here in Charlottesville. For that reason I avoided anyone who was student-aged. Normally, that would play to my preference for older men, but it was immediately apparent that the pool of men, particularly older men, was small in this town. And while Norfolk had a ton of Navy men in top shape, the vibe in Charlottesville was definitely more of a regular guy type. A few men caught my eye, though. One didn't bother messaging me back - either I was too young or didn't have enough info on my profile - I don't know. Another guy contacted me and was good looking, real good looking, but came on way too strong. Going off on how he wanted to spank me and put me in my place. I got freaked out a little. I was about to give up when I saw a torso pic of a beefy man - muscular and older. As I clicked on the profile I saw a bigger version of the pic - the man had juicy pecs swathed in salt-and-pepper chest fur with streaks of gray running down the center to his equally furry abdomen. It was an instant turn on, and I dropped him a message. If Guy #1 was too quick out of the gate, Beefy Guy was shy and even hesitant. But we traded messages, feeling each other out. I told him I was closeted and that seemed to free him up. He apparently was married and didn't fool around often but had been thinking more and more about it. Our online conversation went from flirty and sexual to serious as we got closer and closer to planning a meet-up. "I gotta be careful," he messaged. That he was married made me feel safer. "Of course. But man, you're hot." I replied. "Would love to meet." We worked up to trading more private pictures, including my dick pic. I loved everything I saw about Beefy Guy. He was the same height as me and though he was 50 with a 50-year-old's body, he still had firm muscles, big round swells of pectoral mass and broad shoulders. Most of it covered in enticing swirls of salt-and-peppered hair. His face was ruggedly handsome, weathered like a man who loved the outdoors with a clean shave and cool blue eyes like mine. He had thinning silver hair that he kept short and neat, but not styled or parted like Dad or Jack. I was very much attracted to him. But not as much as he was into me it seemed. "Damn!" he wrote after I sent him a pic of me shirtless after a hard workout. "We definitely got to meet up." Then quickly followed by, "You like getting your cock sucked?" "I do," I replied. "You like sucking?" There was a small pause as I waited for his reply. "Right now, I'm too nervous to do any more than that, but yeah, I'd love sucking a dude like you off. That college dick would definitely be a challenge." "You can take it slow," I messaged to encourage him. "Where?" "My place?" I offered. "I have a roommate. But I can have him give me some privacy." "I'm about an hour away," he admitted. "But it would be worth it." We set up a time for the next day before logging off. I was just about ready for bed when Holt came through the front door, coming back late from his job at the mall. His work uniform consisted of an extra large red polo stretched over his linebacker's frame and a pair of loose khaki slacks with his thinning brown hair combed and gelled to look professionally presentable. I stepped out of my room in just my boxer briefs as Holt had his bedroom door open. He tossed his daypack on his messy bed as I leaned on the frame in his doorway with folded arms. After asking about his workday, I asked if he could give me some space tomorrow afternoon. "Big date?" my friend teased as he wiggled out of his slightly sweaty polo. I shook my head. "Just a hookup," I admitted. "I met this guy online. But, man, I'm overdue." "Glad to see you have some fun, McGrath," Holt said with a playful grin as he dropped his pants and got ready for a shower. "I have a shift tomorrow anyway, so the love den is all yours." "Love den?" I teased him. "Is that something your parents would say?" "Is `fuck pad' better?" he smiled as he grabbed his towel. I was a little nervous that next day. Like when I hooked up with Brain back in Norfolk, I had a bit of a knot in my gut all morning. Even my heavy gym workout with Kyle did little to settle me. I found myself in front of the bathroom mirror after my shower, styling my wet and lengthening blond hair - the top textured with large curls with my cropped sides starting to come in as well. Maybe it was time for a haircut, I thought. I quickly shook my head and wondered why I was primping for an older "discreet" married man I'd just met online. Since we weren't headed anywhere, I threw on a comfy but form-fitting T, something to showcase my muscles, and my favorite Cav's mesh baseball shorts - no socks, no shoes, no underwear. I doubt we'd be clothed for long, anyway. By the time Beefy Guy showed up, my nerves had calmed down, and I was mostly feeling just pure horniness. The man sure was jittery, though. At my height, he stood nervously at my door, hands in his jeans pockets as I answered it and told him to come in. He wore just a gray heather T-shirt that fit him snugly in the chest and around his middle bulk. I liked that his chest hair curled out of his shirt collar and that it prominently dusted his thick forearms and the backs of his hands. Beefy Guy was definitely just on the other side of 50 and definitely an ex-athlete if I ever saw one - football if I had to guess. I just got a major coach vibe from him. Tanned, weathered face and short silver hair that looked even better in person. He looked like he was scared to be there but gave me a nervous smile nonetheless as we stood in the living room in front of each other. "Hi," he said as he let his eyes rake up and down my body. "Um, you're even hotter than your picture." He had a nice voice, deep and smooth at the same time with a Virginia lilt. I had been boning up thinking about getting laid. Since I only had my shorts on, I knew he could easily see the shape and length of my dick just beneath the mesh as his voice was going to get me all the way to full hardness. "You're pretty hot, too," I said, fighting the sudden urge to jump his bones. He seemed shy but excited. "I guess we didn't talk about this, but do you kiss?" I nodded with a grin. "Definitely." He pulled his hands from his pockets as we stepped up to one another. His rough hands circled my waist as I felt up his thick arms and then his shoulders as our mouths met with a slow kiss. After kissing Jack, I wouldn't consider Beefy Guy the most skilled kisser, but he was fine, and I loved the thrill of making out with another guy, a real man, much older than me. That kiss relaxed us both, and I felt his tense muscles begin to melt under my touch. His rough hands explored more of my back as he slid them under my shirt, pulling me harder against him as he deepened our smooth kiss just a bit more. I think he sensed my eagerness as he let me take control of his mouth with mine. I felt my cock rub against something fat and hard in his jeans. All of it told us we were both on the same wavelength. As I released his lips, our arms still around each other, he finally smiled at me. "Wanna head back to my room?" I asked as I caressed his shoulder and neck. He nodded and let me lead the way. "You're a student, I take it?" he asked as we walked down the hall. "Yep," I said as we entered my room. I turned, standing in front of him as I pulled off my T-shirt. I felt my collegiate muscles twist, flex and turn, and I got a thrill showing off my body to this guy before dropping my shirt to the floor. Even if I was into his older beefy build, I knew my younger, now leaner athletic body was a selling point. Already I was figuring out that it was especially a turn on for men Beefy Guy's age. He had an excited look on his face, almost kid-like in its glee as he eyed my bared torso and began kicking off his shoes. "Damn, you're perfect," he said softly. "I'm almost scared to show you my body now." "I've seen the pictures," I reminded him. "And I'm very much into it." I slipped down my shorts to let him see my genitals - my heavy hanging and hardening cock, and the curling blond pubes that lead up to a treasure trail that was slowly growing back in over my lower abs and around my belly button. "Are you a coach by chance?" I took the occasion to ask him. He nodded. "Yep. Football," he said, pulling his heather grey T-shirt off and letting me see his magnificent masculine girth and bountiful chest hair. "I gotta be careful, but I'm sure glad I came." Now naked, I stroked my firming dick and stepped up to him. He smiled watching me, his hands sliding up my hips as he finally felt my bare skin. Again, I took the helm. As our mouths met again, I sucked at his tongue, loving the feel of his thick chest hair and muscled pecs in my hands. I felt up his bared torso while he undid his jeans. "Oh God," he growled, his lips still pressed against mine as I heard his jeans rustle as they fell to his feet. "You're so fucking hot." His desire for me fueled our next kiss and I plunged my tongue between his lips. Reaching down I felt his erection, which was poking straight up from his furry crotch. Shy of 6 inches, it was not a huge tool, but it was fittingly thick, and I had a hard time wrapping my fingers around his girth. Almost as insistently, his meaty paw wrapped around my hardon as we enjoyed kissing and feeling each other up. Finally, he broke our kiss. "I gotta suck that dick," he groaned. I got the sense he was a very oral guy and craved doing this with another man. I nodded, stepping back and got up on my bed, spreading my legs and letting my 8-inch erection poke up in its thick hardness. Beefy Guy stepped out of his jeans and got up on the bed to join me. His blue eyes now seemed entranced by my cock as he crawled up between my legs, feeling up my muscled thighs towards my crotch. He gently took my dick in hand, admiring my length with a gentle stroke as his thick fingers measured my girth. Watching a clear drop of sap ooze from between the lips of my piss slit, the man licked his lips and took a quick swallow of his excess saliva before he leaned over and started licking my cockhead, tasting the sweat and salt and leaking sap. Beefy Guy moaned excitedly as his tongue work grew more frenzied, working down to my furry balls and back, teasing the pisstube before finally plopping my fat cockhead into his hot, wet mouth. "Damn, man," I growled as I gently stroked his silver hair. This coach was good at giving head and seemed unfazed by my girth. Inch after inch sank in and he took a little more on each bob up and down on my hardon. I felt his spit start to roll down my shaft as his tongue and lips pulled more and more of me into his mouth. I gently held his head as my legs bent in response to the pleasure, making my cock flex against his tongue. It helped that I was able to look down at his gray hair and indulge my coach fantasies. He didn't look like Coach Weir, who was a good decade younger, but he had a passing resemblance to my high school football coach, Dan Reynolds. I was feeling horny and was worried I was going to blow too soon, but the man seemed to know when to let off and give gentle, teasing tongue work to my shaft and let me cool down. Then start the process all over again. I nudged him off and watched my dick fall from his spit-dripping lips. "Can I do you for a bit?" I asked with ragged breath while coming down from near orgasm. He seemed surprised but excited by my offer and nodded readily. He sat up and scooted on his knees to my head to offer me his throbbing erection. I looked up at him as he took his cock in hand and angled his fat shaft down towards my waiting lips. I took my time, licking up and down the underside of his shaft and tonguing Coach's furry balls before working my way up and taking the wide dick head into my mouth. As I suckled on the fat head for a bit, he held still, hands at his sides, letting me enjoy him. It was only then that it really, fully dawned on me just how fat this cock was. Maybe my width, or a bit more even. My jaw strained to open up for him as I sucked another inch or two. And while I did my best, I couldn't really get a good rhythm on him. I sucked for a few minutes, tears forming at the edge of my eyes before I finally backed off. I was breathing heavily as his fat cock fell from my lips. "Sorry, man," I said, wiping the trails of saliva from my mouth. "You're pretty thick." He grinned down at me. "That's all right," he said. "I prefer to do the sucking anyway." He eased his beefy body back down between my legs and reached to grip my dick, which had softened a little bit. "OK if I take care of your big one?" "Fuck yes, it's OK," I laughed as I reclined back onto my bed. "What position is best for you?" He seemed to be mulling over the possibilities as he played with my rehardening cock. "Dang, it's all great, man.... How bout you standing by the edge of the bed? I'll blow you that way." I gave a nod of approval and scooted over to step off the bed. I loved the way Coach looked at me, still lying on stomach, his blue eyes wide with lust as he examined my tall athletic build before zeroing in on my crotch and my hefty 8 inches. "You got some lube?" he asked. I gathered he wanted to stroke off while giving me head. I reached over into my nightstand drawer and got him some. He rolled onto his back and flipped the lid. As he efficiently slicked up his fireplug dick, his balls clung to the fat shaft, a sign he was getting really worked up now. I may not have been able to handle his girth, but I had enjoyed the taste and feel of his cock in my mouth. And I loved watching the way he now gripped and handled himself. My flagging erection had now returned to full mast as I stood at the edge of the bed. Hands on my hips, I waited for this middle-aged man to get back to work on my dick. I didn't wait long. Coach kind of flipped over on his side and propped himself up with his free arm. He slurped the head of my cock back into his mouth, his tongue massaging the sensitive underside as he sucked more of me between his hard lips. I held still, enjoying his slurping mouth while his right hand reached down to jerk himself in time with his up-and-down motion on my cock. He couldn't take all of me. But... Fuck, he was good, real good at this. Or maybe it had been too long since I'd had a dude other than Holt service me like this. Not a prelude to a fuck, but a full-on expert blowjob to get me off. I didn't cum immediately but rather rode out his head for a good ecstatic four minutes or so, enjoying the sight of this beefy man's naked backside displayed out in front of me. I grunted deeply and gently took hold of his head, feeling him slide back and forth down my dick as the head of my cock kissed the edge of his throat. If he'd been up for it, I would have gladly fucked this hot coach. But for now I enjoyed his oral talents as he steadily built up my nut. Eventually, I felt the pleasure amplify and start to go to a different level, a wave of pre-orgamsic sensation that rose and all of a sudden crested. My hips jerked into his mouth and my hold on his head tightened. "Fuck... here it comes...Aw... Fuck," I groaned. I looked down at Coach as he simply sucked harder, working his tongue into a frenzy as he growled around my cock. The dude wanted this. I came as the first shot blasted straight down his throat, a real huge heavy wad followed by another, and another as I moaned incoherently. I shut my eyes and gripped his head, and Coach took it like a trooper, gulping the copious seed in waves. When he pulled off and I finally came to, I looked down and saw him smiling and kind of kneeling up. The hand around his fireplug dick was covered in his own cum. He'd nutted when I blew. "That was amazing," he said, licking his lips . "You're a stud." Flattery goes a long way with me and I gave a goofy smile back, a little smug maybe, but happy to have connected with this man. "You're amazing at sucking a guy," I said. "You should put your talents to use more." I reached back onto my night stand and picked up the box of Kleenex. I offered it to him as he wiped off his hand. He suddenly got a nervous look on his face. "I've been dreaming of doing that for over a year now," he said. I climbed back on the bed, reclining against my pillows as I lifted my arm in a silent gesture for him to lie back next to me. He crawled up beside me, resting his back against my arm as his head fell back next to mine on the same pillow. It was a simple affectionate gesture that thrilled me, feeling his hard warm beefiness resting against my side. "You've done this before, right?" I asked as my hand touched his opposite shoulder. He shook his head before he turned and looked at me. "I've sucked dick a few times, but never with a guy online. You're my first." My first reaction was surprise. He was that good at giving head despite an apparent lack of experience. Just then, I felt honored and had a sense of connection and empathy with the coach. "Well, you're just my second," I admitted. "I've been too scared to meet guys. I'm pretty much in the closet." He gave me a knowing look and a small nod. "I don't know what I am, to be honest," he confessed. "I just know I liked what we just did a little too much." "Maybe we can do it again?" I ventured. He shook his head. "I don't know, man. You're hot as hell, but... well, I'm an hour away... and to be honest I feel pretty shitty stepping out on my wife." I gulped, feeling complicit. I found married men a comfortable option for sex because they had every motivation to keep things secret. But I knew there was another person implicated in the sex the coach and I just had. "Way to bring the mood down, huh?" the man said with his lilt. "It's cool," I said as I squeezed his shoulder. "I like the talking part, too," I said. "Even if it's just a one-time thing." He got a half-content, half-wistful expression on his rugged face. "For what it's worth, you're a real temptation, stud." I didn't know if it was appropriate to be that temptation, but I replied, "Would it be OK if I gave you my number? If you don't ever call, that's fine. But if you ever decide to..." He gave a nervous nod. Like he was too nervous to say yes and too excited by the idea of a repeat to say no. We both moved to get up off the bed. I walked up to my desk and wrote down my mobile number on a Post-it. "I'm Jim," I introduced myself finally as I handed him the folded strip of paper. He was getting up and putting his clothes back on. "OK if I don't share my name?" he asked. I shook my head. "Most guys probably use a fake name anyway," I joked. He didn't laugh. "Shit, you must think I'm ridiculous." "Nah, man," I tried to reassure him. "I'm just teasing. Sorry." He slipped on his jeans and heather grey T, and I instantly regretted seeing him cover up his thick-set and hairy, muscular coach body. I'd be stroking off to the memory of this man, for sure. In just my baseball mesh shorts, I walked him to the door and we met for one last kiss. Hands around each other - his arms around my waist as I held his neck and shoulders, tasting his mouth one final time as our chests and crotches came together. Our kiss faded and finally ended as he said, "Thanks again, stud. You're incredible." "You, too," I said. Our hands fell from each other as he stepped back and finally stepped out. *** My second hookup attempt was a bust. The guy's profile was hot... late 30s, beefy blue-collar look, real masculine in appearance... but when I showed up at his place, he looked nothing like his picture. He was at least ten years older, unkempt, and decidedly overweight. There was the lack of physical chemistry, but more than that, I was pissed off he'd lied on his profile. When I told him it wasn't going to happen he seemed to expect that reaction and just gave a resigned shrug before closing the door. I had higher hopes for my next encounter a few days later. And when Sam messaged me I got excited. He was noticeably shorter than me but in very good shape. His profile said 32, but when he shared his face pic, I was struck by how much he was a young, attractive 32 - masculine but cute with a clean-shaven face, dimples and a bright smile. His haircut was military short and I wondered if he was in the service with the ROTC program, or possibly one of the military recruiters in town. Whether military or civilian, the look definitely pushed my buttons - big time. And when Sam went on in his messages about how he was a total top and wanted nothing more than to fuck me, I started getting excited by the idea. I hadn't done anal with Beefy Coach and while I enjoyed every bit of that encounter, I'd been thinking more and more of getting fucked. Maybe it was my time with Dad - then Brian and Jack - but the idea of an older man's cock inside me made me horny and excited. I didn't want to seem too eager, but I admitted I was open to bottoming for him. Sam was clearly excited to hear that. We set up a time later that evening and I drove over to his place, a nice apartment complex on the outskirts of town. In person, he was hot as hell - his shorter frame was packed with taut muscle as he answered the door in just his cut-off sweats and a tight undershirt and showed off his build. Not big or beefy, just really fucking fit. Plus, he had a certain masculine energy that immediately turned me on. We hadn't talked about our personal history or biographies. But from his haircut, build, and posture... I knew, just knew, he was military. He showed me in, friendly, but didn't waste time, stepping up to me. He aggressively gripped my waist in his strong grasp and pulled me close. "Damn, you're tall," he growled as he looked up several inches to my face. He ground my hips a bit harder into him, making it known he was rock hard. Tne man titled his chin up towards my mouth, and I leaned down to meet his kiss, letting my hands run across his muscled back. "Let's take this to the bedroom," he said. "I'm horny." I nodded and followed him into his apartment. We sat on his bed, side by side and made out some more. Unfortunately, Sam was a lousy kisser. At least, I didn't like his sloppy way of kissing. Way too much tongue, and not enough finesse. It was kind of a turn off, but I tried to not let it be. As he started tugging and removing my shirt, I lifted up my arms and let him slide the soft cotton off my skin, pulling it off my head as he grinned at my newly bared chest and abs. And in turn, I watched him strip as well. Damn, his body was fantastic. Rippled, strong abs, perfectly shaped pecs, shoulders and arms - most of it covered in a light layer of chest and body hair. And he was clearly into my bod as I pulled down my shorts and briefs. I could tell he was appraising my size as my dick stood up, but he didn't say anything as he slid his sweats off. Sam wasn't short, but his spike was average in width and average in length. I was into it, particularly seeing how rigid he was as we lay down on his bed and made out some more. His kissing didn't improve, but I was getting more into this hookup as he rolled on top of me. I opened my legs for him, and he settled between my thighs. As his hands slid under my shoulders and his chest pressed up against mine, I felt the hardness and heat of his cock slide across my own dick. Excited now, I slid my hands down his wide and muscled back. Our height difference made itself known as keeping our mouths locked became a slight challenge. But the feel of his hard muscle moving against mine, the soft warmth of his fur against my skin, and just the sensation of being beneath another man was a turn on. At least I was turned on until he reached over and pumped out some lube. And without fanfare he reached down between my buns and just shoved his finger into me. "Fuck!" I cried, wincing at the sting. "What the fuck?" I asked, as I pushed his shoulders back. He pulled out his lubed finger and looked down, a frustrated look on his face. "I thought you bottomed." I let out a sigh. "Yeah, I have. And I want to. But fuck, you gotta go slower, man." Military guy didn't seem to like my correcting his bedroom technique, but he relented and more slowly fingered my hole. He wasn't great at it, but it was all right. Only I wasn't fully feeling loose when he scooted up, lining up my hole while fisting his cock. "I gotta fuck you," he grunted, clearly impatient. I pushed him back and rolled out from beneath him. "Yeah, this isn't gonna work," I said. He watched as I got up and started putting on my clothes again. Pinching his dick he seemed upset. "You really gonna leave me with blue balls?" "Jack off or something," I told him, feeling pissed off. "I don't care." He could read the hostility in my face and I think he knew not to cross me at that point. He now seemed contrite. "Look, I'm sorry. I'll take it slow. Promise." I shook my head. "I'm gonna go." He didn't say anything but just grimly watched me walk out. It wasn't until I got home that I realized all the emotion welling up in me. Shame, anger, and sexual frustration. But as much of a downer as the evening had been, I was proud I had stood up for myself. *** Maybe I was batting 500 so far with this online thing, but it didn't feel like success. My fourth time left me less sure of whether this was the right thing to be doing, and I decided to take a break from it. At least for a while. Fortunately, an opportunity for sex just seems to finds you and that July I had a fun and fortuitous encounter. I don't even remember how Kyle and our mutual friend Jeff and I ended up at a party at the DKE House. During the school year, fraternity guys could be dicks about letting other guys in at a party, especially if we didn't bring dates with us. They saw us as competition, and unlike some of the football stars we didn't bring any status to the house. But summer was more relaxed all around, and when the three of us showed up at the DKE house, we were just ushered in. The parties were tamer in the summer. Music playing, beer flowing, guys and girls kind of standing around drinking, laughing and mingling. It had that lazy vibe where the weekdays were just as much a party as the weekend. But I liked that as well, anyway. Everyone looked dressed for summer - shorts and flip flops. I was in a relaxed summer mode, too, in just a pair of mesh shorts and a white Cavs T-shirt that showed off my now developed arms. After a lot of outdoor time in baseball season, I had a noticeable tan and my blond hair was lighter, almost sun-bleached. I'd been growing my hair out longer and it was now a nice medium length. I thought of getting it cut for the hotter summer months, but I'd been too lazy so far. Kyle and Jeff were dressed similarly and maybe we stood out for not having a fraternity-logo shirt. But the three of us made the party rounds and ended up spending a lot of the evening in the basement, where the Dekes had a nice pool table set up. The party crowd was smaller and mellower than upstairs. Jeff was really good at pool and whooped my ass in a couple of games. As the eight-ball sunk, I handed Kyle my cue stick, telling him I needed another drink. I went to get another beer as a fraternity brother took my place as Jeff's next challenger. I made my way upstairs and was heading to the back kitchen where the keg was when I saw someone familiar. He was gym built, 6-foot-even, and very cute. Dark haired, ruddy complexion with a bright boyish smile. It actually took me a second to place the name to the face, but the muscle bro was already gripping me in a tight hug like I was a long lost friend. He was dressed like a typical frat guy... in some silk-screened sorority mixer T-shirt, preppy shorts and flip flops. "Jim, buddy, great to see you!" he said, patting my back. We broke the hug, and I started to remember where I'd seen the guy before. At Cliff Stenson's party in Cancun. The guy at the door, with the tequila bottle. The guy with the great ass. I was blanking on his name, but this dude had been the hunkiest one there. "Brandon," he reminded me without missing a beat or showing any concern I'd forgotten his name. "Yeah," I smiled. "Cancun. That was a blast." "Fuck yeah, it was," he said. Maybe Brandon had a personality beyond a committed party dude, but he didn't show it. "Listen...." he said, leaning into me with a slightly lower voice. "I was just on my way to smoke some weed up in my room. Wanna join me?" It was a surprise offer, but at that point it sounded perfect. It had been a while since I'd gotten high - not since my last hookup with Ed Bryant, in fact. Before that, it was with Tim, my old dorm roommate. I now generally avoided pot, since it was against the NCAA drug policy. In practice, we got tested for a recreational drug screening only once, maybe twice a year. Generally those were during the school year or the season, so I decided to take a chance. I told hunky Brandon I did, and just like that, I was following him to his room. He shut the door, muffling the party music, and I took a relaxed seat on his bed. He went to his desk and pulled out a bag, where he already had a couple of joints rolled. "I got the good stuff for you, buddy," he grinned as he took a seat next to me and offered me the first toke. It was good. And strong. More powerful than I was used to. "Some strong shit, huh?" Brandon said as he watched my reaction. I nodded, holding in the smoke for a second and letting the pleasurable feeling wash over me. I exhaled. "Fuck, man." Brandon now seemed impatient for his turn and took the joint from me. He had a more developed tolerance for the drug but it also affected him quickly, giving him a relaxed goofy smile. I'm sure I had one, too. We passed it back and forth a few times and pretty soon I was well and thoroughly baked. I started laughing and Brandon did, too. "I knew you were a cool dude," he said, reaching out to grip my shoulder. He latched on playfully but didn't let go. The touch of his fingers, combined with the pot, was giving me an erection that I hoped Brandon wouldn't notice in my mesh shorts. "Fuck, man," I laughed, "I'm really glad I came to this party." "I am, too," he said in a softer voice. Brandon looked at me, his bright green eyes staring at me with a look I recognized. Fuck, he was the last person I expected to come on to me. But here he was, giving me those telltale signals as he slowly let go of my shoulder, fingers sliding down my bulging triceps as I held his eyes. Our arms nudged against one another. His toned and muscled flesh was warm, hot even. Brandon smiled, and I did, too. We laughed a little, and I felt myself getting a boner snaking down the leg of my shorts. I leaned forward, my face moving an inch closer to his, just a little in case I was misreading things. I wasn't. Brandon leaned forward too, tilting in with his chin as I met him halfway. We kissed, softly, giggling a little against each other's smiling lips. I was getting so turned on just kissing this dude. He wasn't a talker, we just reclined back on to his bed. Facing each other, our bodies moved just a little bit closer. We made out, neither slow nor rushed. My hand slid underneath his shirt and Brandon's became more exploratory as well. This was such an unexpected thrill, especially as we started peeling our shirts off and really getting into it. Brandon had a killer body. Maybe not up to the standards of a college athlete, but like a lot of fraternity guys he hit the gym regularly, and it showed. Lean muscle that was particularly developed in his chest and arms, matched with a rippled six pack. My hands explored it all as I continued to kiss him. I had been very much oriented toward older men and older men's bodies, but Brandon's was hot as fuck, and I enjoyed feeling the contrast between his and guys like Dad or even Jack Grant. His hands were exploring my chest and abs as well, and I could tell he enjoyed my strong build. I was still pretty much smooth from the shaving during Spring Break, but small hairs had started to sprout in and they made the sensation of Brandon's hands that much deeper. Finally his fingers drifted lower, to the waistband of my shorts. "Fuck yeah," I hissed. I pulled my mouth from his and looked down to see him tug at the waistband of my mesh shorts and then reach into my boxer briefs. "You're big," he said, assessing my size and stroking my bone. I helped him out by pulling down my shorts and underwear, just off my hips and just under my balls. My dick was incredibly hard in his grip. "Let me see yours," I hissed. Brandon gave a goofy, stoned expression and nodded. He undid his shorts and slipped them down along with a pair of boxers. I licked my lips as his cock came into view. His dick was more regular in width, a nice six-and-a-half incher that stuck out a trimmed bush of deep brown pubes. He had a nice ball sac, not too hairy, with heavy, large, low-hanging testicles. We kissed again. Brandon's arms wrapped around me, and it felt electric to have our nude bodies rub against one another, our cocks battling like clashing swords. I felt my sexual level ramp up even more as Brandon's hands explored my body, then began to grope me more excitedly. I humped more steadily into his hot frat-boy body, feeding off the excitement in his kiss. I almost felt I could come from the frottage, but it wasn't as steady a stimulation on my cock, nor the right friction to bring me off. But it was sure fun as hell humping in such an unbridled horny way against him. Brandon had big hands with more slender fingers than you'd expect from a dude with his muscle. Those hands felt wonderful running along my lats and then over my ass. The frat guy moaned excitedly into our kiss as he gripped my thrusting buns, his fingers curving over my gluteal muscle and actually pulling my hips harder into his crotch. I pulled off and looked down on him, smiling. This sex was fun and playful. The surprise I had that this guy was into it made it fun, too. Brandon seemed very turned on, his forehead wrinkling with each rubbing of my cock against his and I continued my shallow thrusts. "I wanna suck your dick," he said with a grin. I grinned back. "Hell yes," I hissed as we scooted up, Brandon maneuvered into more of a sitting-up position while I found myself kneeling in front of him. My cock pulsed in full rigidity inches from his face. It had been overdue getting off with another guy, and I found myself very horny now that I was tangling with this fraternity stud. Brandon had his goofy smile as he stroked my prick, running his fingers up and down the 8-inch length before lifting up its heft. "This is a big motherfucking cock," he said, taking another few seconds to admire it up close before leaning forward and licking it just under the head. "God, man," I grunted as my cock flexed against his tongue and a drop of clear precum oozed out the tip. "I need this." I was so worked up right then. Brandon looked up with playful excitement and started licking up and down my length with nice long swipes of his tongue. Then, he used his fingers to pull me down to the right angle to slip my swollen cockhead in between his open lips. I grunted softly at the feel of his tongue and the soft suction of his mouth. This dark-haired hunk didn't have technique. He sloppily sucked and swallowed my girth, and his gag reflex made itself known as he focused on the head. But he didn't really need technique. I was keyed up and getting off on the sight of his cute face working my dick with abandon. It was the last thing I expected to happen at this party and the surprise gave me a naughty thrill. I was tempted to push my dick into his gullet and to start fucking his mouth, but I restrained myself. The guy clearly wasn't too experienced, at least not skilled enough to take a face fuck. So I let him do the work. I almost thought I wouldn't cum. I mean, his wet mouth working up and down on my cock was feeling good, but something wasn't getting me there. Until it did. "Oh fuck," I grunted, surprised at how this orgasm was sneaking up on me. I squeezed his meaty shoulder to let him know I was getting close and that he could pull off. Instead Brandon worked me more fervently, his mouth now a sloppy sleeve that was going to milk my load right out of me. I grunted between clenched teeth as I fired into his throat and I heard him sputter a little bit at the first jet. But he took the remaining cum shots just fine, swallowing my semen in steady determination. I slowly pulled out, feeling Brandon suck on the sensitive head one final time as he left my cock glazed in spit and cum. Excited still, I leaned down, taking his rigid piece in my hand and guiding him to my mouth to suck him. He tasted fresh and salty, and I suckled on the dripping head before sucking more of his shaft. Brandon moaned, his fingers now in my blond curls as I felt his hips flex and his prick pulse against my tongue. I had a certain pride that I was better at this than he was. It helped too that this stoned frat guy was now worked up as he gently thrust up into my sucking mouth. I bobbed up and down on his spike for a half minute then heard him gasp and felt his body stiffen. I hummed around his shaft as I felt that dick twitch in my mouth. I was getting fed a fresh load of frat-boy cum. I savored every drop, then slowly released his cock and leaned back up, licking my lips. The fraternity brother seemed to shift modes now. He slid off the bed, not looking at me as he found a spare towel to wipe us off with. "Listen... this was just fooling around," he said. "I'm not gay or anything." I took the towel from him. "Yeah, me neither," I lied to put him at ease. "But that was fun, man." He smiled back. "Yeah it was. You know what you're doing." He found his clothes to put them back on and I followed his lead. "See you around, man," he said casually after we were dressed again as he opened the door. With that, we went back out into the party, just like nothing had happened. This encounter had been so much like the one with that kid Jason from last summer, but without the drama. Brandon maybe had some major denial about his sexual preferences, but I couldn't care less at that moment. We were college kids looking to get our rocks off. And we did, in a big way. I enjoyed that party with my dick feeling heavy and satisfied.