Date: Sun, 3 May 2020 11:38:58 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Naval Tradition Revised 3 Naval Tradition REVISED EDITION 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 is the revised and retconned version of Naval Tradition. It is told in chronological order and adjusts many of the chapters. 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 PART ONE: COMING OF AGE Chapter Three Richmond, Spring 2001 My life changed forever the Spring of my junior year. Our school was playing in the Regionals in Richmond. It was day 2 and our team was still in the running. We'd never made it that far so after our afternoon win, most of the guys on the team were jazzed and ready to party. Already word was spreading around that Todd Burnham had some liquor in his room and that party was to start at 8. At 7:45, I was just getting out of the shower when I saw that the guys I was rooming with, Michael and Jason, were already dressed in jeans and T-shirts and were getting ready to head out the door. "Sure you're not coming, McGrath?" "Nah, fellas. Gonna hit the gym, maybe I'll join you guys later." Jason laughed, his cute dimples deepening. "Jesus, Jim, dontcha ever give it a rest? Let loose a little." "Let him be, man." Michael came to my defense. "You know how he is about his gym routine. And fuck, it's his arm that got us here." Then, turning to me, "just join us later on, man. Room 417." I felt bad being so standoffish with my friends. But I knew I had to stay disciplined if I wanted to get a scholarship for college. And the whole weekend I'd been a little withdrawn. I kept thinking about my best friend and now blowjob buddy Pete. I shouldn't have had any right to complain. I was getting my nuts drained as much as I dared ask him. All I had to do was lower my sweatpants and my gridiron-built friend would hunker down and wrap his expert lips around my tool. No questions asked. I loved every second of the sex, only I started to feel guilty. I knew I should be reciprocating, knew that I wanted to touch and worship every inch of Pete Miller, knew that I had feelings for him I couldn't communicate to him because I was so goddamned scared. So I let him be the queer and think I was a cool straight guy who just liked getting his rocks off. I figured this trip away from Norfolk would allow me to clear my head, think about other things. Boy, was I wrong. I never played better baseball, but the minute the game was over, I kept thinking about Pete, about my teammates, about men in general. By day 2, lust was coursing through my veins. Finding the gym was the only thing that helped me relieve the tension. We were staying a nicer business-style hotel, and the gym was pretty well equipped. So that's how I was spending my night, in the gym hotel, resting between sets by standing in front of the full wall mirror, gauging my progress. As no one was in there, I'd taken off my shirt and was standing dressed just in my gym shorts. I was proud of my muscle and of my definition. Firm, wide shoulders knotted up as I did each tricep extension. Pulling the dumbbell up with intense slowness, I gritted my teeth and watched the veins bulge on my arms throb. I put them down and heard a the door open. "Oh, hey. Looks like I'm not the only one getting a workout in." The man entering was obviously a businessman or professional staying at the hotel, probably in his early to mid 30s, shorter and built with a compact frame clearly kept up by gym visits squeezed in between business meetings. He'd come in workout attire of shorts and a short-sleeve white T-shirt emblazoned with a corporate race logo. As I sat down and pumped out another set of arm curls I examined the taut muscle rippling beneath the cotton knit material. I could even see the small erect nubs protruding at the tips of his pectorals. I looked up and took in the well-groomed, handsome face, his thinning brown hair cut a little trimmer than the business-guy medium-short style, and green-gray eyes that twinkled at me despite the serious demeanor of his expression. His gaze locked on mine, and all of a sudden I felt self-conscious about being shirtless. "Yeah, I thought I'd be the only one here myself," I said as I put my shirt back on. "Sorry for the informal dress code." "No problem, don't mind me." We continued with our workout in silence. I really pushed myself, in part to get my mind off everything, and in part to not look so pathetic in front of the man sharing the gym with me. He certainly had his routine down with focus and it clearly gave him good results. After I was done I decided to take advantage of the sauna just the next door down from the gym, which I'd had the foresight to turn on before my workout. I stripped off my shirt and entered with just my shorts. After a tough workout, the dry heat felt nice and relaxing and soon I half-drifted off for maybe five minutes, until the door opened again and a rush of cooler air entered. It was the handsome businessman. He, too, was shirtless and he sat down with his legs spread. I had a good look. His torso was very toned, almost smooth though he had a bit of light hair on his chest and thicker on his six pack abs. His muscle was lean but the guy was stronger than first appearance would suggest. The most developed part of him was his powerful thighs. They looked like those Ironman contestants' legs, lean and bulky at the same time. Only they weren't shaved, a coating of dark hairs cascaded the length of his thighs, knees and calves. When I looked back up, the man's gaze was on me, as his right hand absently swiped at the beads of sweat forming on the swell of his pecs. His brown eyes and white smile beamed. "You here with that high school group?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Yes, sir. Up from Norfolk." "Sir? Been a while since I've been called that. You must be a Southern boy, right?" His accent was Northern and polished, though I couldn't place it. "Yes'r," I replied trying to minimize the "sir," which now felt awkward since he seemed to be mocking me a little. "That's cool," he breathed out, shutting his eyes as the room dryness filled our lungs. We both breathed heavily as we adjusted. After a minute, he continued. "What do you play? You're built but not quite bulked up for football." His eyes openly appraised my body. "No sir, baseball. My team's here for regionals, in fact." He took in a deep breath. "Where are your teammates now?" he asked. "Partying," I laughed. "And you're spending your night here in the hotel gym working out." His gaze was hard upon me now, as if he was trying to read my every expression. Man, his body was magnificent, his abs crunched up into a knotted series of ridges, his chest toned, his bicep and forearm muscles bunched up in post-workout tautness. And there was the package between his legs, filling out the fabric of his shorts, which seemed to be growing. My heart skipped a beat. "So are you," I grunted in the heat. "Yeah, guess we're alike, huh?" His eyes swept over my body more openly, lewdly. I could feel the double entendre, burning my defenses in the heat of that sauna, pushing me toward forbidden territory. This was so different than with Pete, this guy was sure of himself and didn't do much to hide his lust. "I guess we are." His eyes took a minute to ask me, silently. I actually nodded. My pulse raced, maybe his did too. "Well, that's enough heat for me," he announced. "Feel like coming up to my room?" I couldn't believe this. I had wondered and imagined how a hookup would go, beyond my one-sided arrangement with Pete Miller. This wasn't the script I imagined. It was almost too easy. I was nervous as hell, but I figured I could hold my own and always leave if I wasn't comfortable. Mostly, curiosity and horniness won out. This guy was hot, and hot in a different way than Pete. Grown up, confidently sexual. "Um, sure," I said. We put our shirts back on and went up to the fifth floor where his room was. He tossed down the towel and key card on the desk and turned to me. "You OK with this?" I nodded. "Yeah. I am." My heart was pounding. I wanted this and decided not to pretend I didn't. It felt like the biggest step in my life. He smiled and took off his shirt. I followed suit. "Nice body," he said, in a tone that said he thought I had a fantastic body. "Thanks. You, too." My eyes widened as he slipped his shorts down. His dick was hard, getting more erect now. A good six inches, maybe a hair more. It jutted up with a slight curve to the right. On his shorter frame the dick looked longer. Of course the man's eyes were drawn to my thick tool as I stepped out of my briefs. He didn't say anything, but his look was approving. "Sit on the edge of the bed," he said. I did and watched as he stepped up closer to me. Very close. I pivoted my head in and my nose bumped into his hot, heavy, hard cock. I stuck out my tongue and tasted it. It was spongy-firm and salty to the taste. I licked more, and the prick responded by growing more and upward. I attacked it with fervor, licking and sucking at every centimeter of cock I could. My first dick. Now I knew what Pete Miller felt. Why he craved it. This man, whose name I didn't even know, held some mysterious power over me. His cock ordering me silently to worship. And yet, every inch of his hardon, every bit of turgidness filling into the cylindrical, cut shaft, was a compliment. Telling me I was desirable. Wanting me. There, in that hotel room, a circuit formed between us, an experienced man and a virgin cocksucker. One thing I hadn't realized before then - how would I? - was how sensitive one's tongue is. I could sense every ridge, bump and vein on his rigid manstalk as my mouth explored from top to bottom. I discovered that even the dick skin that looked smooth by sight had its own texture, tempered only by the moisture of the steam room and the brininess that overwhelmed my taste buds. From the response in his stalk I could tell he enjoyed my exploration, but he wanted more. Reaching down, he opened my mouth with his fingers and stuck the head in. Just the head, holding still as I licked around the smooth knob. It was wet from the precum. "Yeah, man, suck it," the man cooed. Effortlessly, the round head pushed inward. It was all a blur. The firm hand stroking the back of my neck, right where my hair tapered off. The depth of his voice, urging me on. His downy brown hairs and firm, six-pack belly pressed hard against my forehead. The saliva I was producing in such copious amounts. By now I had about four inches of his wonderfully hard cock stuffed into my mouth, as I sucked and bobbed my head. Fortunately, the man wasn't overly hung, but he felt plenty big right then. Spit ran out of my mouth, down the engorged shaft and over his ballsac. I held onto his slightly spread legs, running my hands up and down his sinewed quad muscle. I could begin to sense a change in my suckee. My novice cocksucking notwithstanding, his demeanor grew more urgent. His breath quickened. His hands were rubbing the short bristles of my hair and occasionally would push me down onto his erect dick. Fuck, if Pete could see me now I thought. I was blowing some guy, just like he'd blown me, and it turned me on. Big jock at school, there I was, my jaws stretching, accommodating. Learning how to pleasure another man. The thought jolted suddenly to my balls. This whole time it had been about his dick, how I could get used to the size, and to suck it without gagging or biting. Now, I felt the incredible urge to get off myself. Fortunately, I had plenty of experience in pulling my pud. Quickly, urgently, my left hand descended to my prick and I jerked it furiously. I went at it harder than I'd ever done alone in my bedroom, but then again I was turned on like nothing else. This was intense. The man I was sucking noticed. "Man, kid, you're hot to trot. Go ahead, get your nut. I'm almost there myself." I don't think I realized what that meant, not fully, until all of a sudden the cockhead that was tickling the back of my throat swelled in pulses then hard fast shots of sperm jetted into my esophagus. The first one almost made me cough, but I resisted the urge just in time for the second to go flying straight down my throat. This time I coughed. Thankfully, the man pushed my head back so that his cock withdrew to the tip of my mouth. The rest of his load filled the front of my palate and I began to enjoy this. So this was what a man's cum was like! Warm, abrasive, and almost custard like in texture. God, I was so worked up I shot right then. The juice I'd saved up the whole trip. When I finally backed up off of his cock, I felt proud, accomplished. My first dick. Sex that was far more intense than with the few girls I'd screwed. It was quick, raw and masculine. More than anything, I felt like an adult now. And I was hooked. My guy caught his breath and smiled at me. "Fuck, that was hot." I nodded, with maybe a little embarrassment now that it was over, but mostly a thrill I'd done it. He seemed to read my emotions. "First time, stud? You did great." He stood up, his prick still tumescent, and I followed his lead, gathering myself up onto my feet despite the rush of blood to the head. Even now, his brown eyes mesmerized me, they seemed almost soulful. "Thanks, I needed that." "Sure," I muttered, not knowing if I should split immediately or talk. I was grateful when he patted my shoulder in a familiar gesture. "You can wash off in the bathroom." As we cleaned up and got dressed again, we introduced ourselves and talked. His name was Dan, and he lived in Chicago but had a client in Richmond and came frequently on business. He had a partner, another male, he lived with, but they had an agreement when either one was traveling. The look of shock on my face must have been pretty noticeable. "You don't approve? Of what? That I have a gay lover or that we have an open relationship?" I blushed and stammered. "Oh, it's not that. I just never have met anyone... not who would say they're gay." Even the word gay seemed heavy as I said, yet I felt like a fool, like some goddamned hick. "Norfolk's a pretty small place, you know. And well... " I was going to add how this guy was just so masculine, but I didn't. "Don't worry. No offense taken. And I guess I can come on pretty strong. But, fuck kid, when you get out of Norfolk, maybe before, you're going to make some men pretty happy. " "What do you mean?" I asked. "You got it. Looks, body, big dick, the right attitude. You're the real thing. And you're still pretty young. You're going to be beating them off with a stick... That is," he added after a pause, trying to read my reaction, "if you decide you're into men." "I don't know. I mean, I'm not gay, but that was fun." I knew that sounded dumb, but Dan didn't say anything, other than to thank me again for the blowjob and tell me if I wanted to fool around some more to come back up to his room. "I'm here through Friday." I returned back up to the fourth floor, and trotted down to room 417. The party was in full swing, and I did my best to join in with my buddies, but the cliché was true: I was alone in the crowd. I'd just undergone a major experience, and I knew I wasn't the same person I was before. ***** I was able to steal away once more that trip. The next morning, I made up some lie to my buddies, then snuck my way up to the 5th floor. My heart skipped a beat or two as I approached the door. I turned back twice before getting the balls to go knock. Dan was talking on a mobile phone when he answered the door but winked and waved me in. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, like he was going to a meeting or just returning from one. God, he was handsome. The pale blue shirt and striped tie set off his ruddy complexion and sandy brown hair even more. I sat down as he continued his conversation. "...It's the kid from the gym... Come back for more, I suppose." He pulled the phone aside. "Am I right?" he asked. He didn't even wait for an answer, but undid his belt, then his zipper. He stepped up to me, as his suit trousers opened up and fell down a little. My face was pressed into the cloth of his briefs, the thin cotton not restraining the hardening manmeat very much. As nervous as I was, once I was there in his crotch, my lust rose, and I was eager to repeat my performance from the night before, only to do it better. Desperately, I massaged his basket and fished in for his growing prick. "Yeah, he came to suck me off again... Geez, Tom, this kid is your type to the T: Blonde, All-American jock, dimples, blue eyes, the whole works. Fucking fishing my cock out now..." His prick was erect, warm and beautiful. Smaller than mine, but with a nice curve to it. I began licking the length, getting more and more turned on, taking time to pull out his ballsac and lavish his gonads. "... What? Yeah, no, he's just licking right now. Perfect pink meaty tongue going to town on my tool. So hot... I dunno, Tom, 6-two, 6-three... Real muscular for a kid his age. Total jock bod... great guns, smooth, trim waist." I looked up and saw a sneer tempered with lust. His clean-cut suit-and-tie demeanor contrasted with the nastiness of his phone conversation. Of our act. Part of it was humiliating, but his fiery hot prick poked into the side of my face, sticky with the remnants of my saliva which were quickly drying. I edged my face down a bit and he swiveled his hips back til the oval-pointed head made contact with my quivering lips. I wanted it bad but was too nervous to move. He made the move for me, pushing forward and spearing straight into my gullet. The first couple of thrusts were shallow, allowing me to get used to the width and mass of his cock pounding inward. Slowly, he pushed more, and soon I was taking more than the day before. "...That's it, kid. Open up for daddy... Shit, Tom, he's swallowing my bad boy. Yesterday was his first cock, and he's already getting the hang of it... You know how these green boys are...yeah? here ya go..." Tears welled up in the sides of my eyes and I choked in air trying to breath. Even if Dan's prick wasn't overly big, I had to get used to sucking it. It took me a second to realize that Dan's hand held his phone right next to my face, so that every slurp and cocksucking sound would be picked up for the listener on the other end. Something about it made my cock swell in my jeans. "Hot, huh?" Dan finally said into the phone. "Yeah, well, look I'm gonna finish this ride. Talk to you later, hon. Love ya." A beep sounded, and the phone landed on the bed next to me. I barely had time to breathe in before Dan grabbed my shoulders and started pounding in and out. Last time, I'd been in control, struggling to suck dick the right way, bobbing up and down in his lap. This time, what I got was an old-fashioned face fuck. The stud's hands were talons in my shoulders, his hips a pivoting hinge whose sole purpose was to drive cock in and out of my mouth. I didn't enjoy it the same as before. The brutal force and my struggle to open up pretty much killed my erection. But there was something so sexual, so primal, that I relished. Sex was a whole world I had a lot to learn about. He sprinted toward the finish line, which was fine by me. I had to admit I felt a little used as soon as he withdrew his spit and sperm-coated cock out and stepped back. He plopped down on the bed next to me. "Thank, big guy. Sorry if I was a little rough on ya." For some reason I was fighting back tears. "'s OK," I muttered. "Shit!" he said as my tears began to flow. "I knew I shouldn't have done that. Fuck, you're only a kid." He wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me to his suited body. "Sorry, man. I thought you wanted it, too." "I did..." I got out between sobs. I felt so ashamed. "Dan, I'm gay." "Yeah, stud, so am I." He pulled back and looked me in the eye. "But you know that already," he said and winked. "I haven't told anyone before," I added, feeling a little better now that I'd said it. "I don't think I fully realized it before this weekend." "Oh, kid..." he exclaimed. He could read the hurt and anxiety in my eyes. "I don't normally do this, but..." Then he leaned forward and kissed me. My first man kiss, and it was heaven. Full, powerful, masculine. We made out like two lovesick newlyweds on that hotel bed for ten minutes or so. "Thanks," I said as we broke for air. "You didn't get off earlier, did you, Jim?" "No." Dan knelt in front of me and slowly, passionately showed me how exquisite a blowjob can be when it comes from an experienced man. ***** I got back home to Norfolk Friday night at dusk. My buddy Pete was sitting on my front steps waiting for me. He hadn't been crying but his eyes looked almost there, heavy and bloodshot. "Pete, man, what's wrong?" I asked, tossing my bags to the porch and ushering him inside. The minute I touched him on the back he choked back a sob. "Can... can we go to your room? I mean, your brother could...." My father was deployed and it was just Paul looking after me, though mostly I was able to look after myself. I took a look around. The place was totally dark and empty. "Pete, man.... he's not here. Calm down and tell me what's wrong." "Jim, I'm leaving." "Leaving? Leaving what?" "Leaving Norfolk. Leaving you, leaving the team, leaving everything I care for." "Pete, I know things have been rough for you lately but..." "It's not that dude, it's Dad. He's been transferred." Pete's dad was Navy, too, so the news wasn't a complete shock. When you grow up in a military family, you get used to moving around a lot, at least for a while. Pete and I had been lucky to be in Norfolk throughout middle and high school, till now. I felt my eyes water up. I understood and felt bad for the agony my best friend was going through. But I felt it too, already knew I'd miss the hell out of him when he left. "Pete..." I started, clasping my arms around him. "Yeah, and the thing that sucks is that I just found out Thursday while you were away and already Mom wants me to go with her tonight to San Diego to go stay with our aunt and look for a new place. I wanted to spend at least another night with you, Jim, but it looks like I have forty-five minutes." "God," I said, stroking his back. "I'm gonna miss you big time. " "Yeah?" "Yeah, dumbshit. What do I have to do...?" Already, I was kneeling. Pete didn't know what to make of my actions, til I gripped the shorts he was wearing and maneuvered them down to his ankles. Even then, he wasn't sure. Then, I leaned forward and mashed my face in his flaccid cock, wetting up the rubbery, soft genitals with my tongue. "Jesus, Jim, you don't hafta do that. I know you're straight." Naw, he still didn't get it. At least his cock was responding, rising to the occasion. I'm glad Pete wasn't too big a guy in the dick department and was even smaller than Dan, because my novice cocksucking skills wouldn't have stood for more. I was doing my best to open my jaw to fit the head and about three and a half inches in my mouth. That seemed to be enough for Pete, who held still and watched me bob my head on the top of his jockstalk. "God, Jim! Suck me! I dreamed of this, but fuck if it isn't better in real life. That's right, a little more. I'm almost there, buddy. Gonna finish me off?" I couldn't tell if the last part was a question or a tentative statement, but I knew the answer in any case. In an instant, I sucked in as much air as I could through my nostrils and stuffed my mouth full of hard prick ready to launch its sperm. That's when I felt Pete's strong hands grip my head roughly to hold me tight as his piss slit opened up and several thick volleys of jock juice. He tasted different from my hotel man, it was nice and sweet. I liked it a lot. I stood up and wiped the spittle from my face and traces of cum from my lips. "That's for what I didn't have the guts to say to you, buddy." Confident, almost defiant in my tone. I didn't know it was possible for a man to cry and smile at the same time, but Pete sure did. I shut up his sobbing by inching my mouth toward his. We made out for the thirty minutes he had before he had to go. When we parted, we both said we'd keep in touch like close brothers. And we knew we would, but we also knew that something wonderful had been lost. I went back to my room and cried.