Date: Tue, 24 May 2022 18:07:40 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: Naval Tradition Revised ch. 37 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 a (free) ebook version at the end of this, so you can let me know if you want to be on the mailing list for that. PART FIVE: LOOKING FOR MR. RIGHT Chapter Thirty-Seven Charlottesville, Fall 2005 Holt was right: rooming with Kyle sucked. Not in itself. I actually got along great with Kyle Avery, one of the team's pitchers, and he was a good friend too, even if I had a different kind of bond with him than I had with Charlie. I enjoyed hanging out with Kyle, especially after practice and in the evenings. We watched baseball in the living room together and I didn't have to put up with jokey comments about baseball not being a real sport. Because Kyle was so focused on a healthy diet, I did cut back on my drinking as well, which was a good thing. Since Kyle's athletic dedication matched mine, we naturally encouraged each other's game focus. We often talked late into the night about baseball and what we had to do to go pro. I can say, truthfully, that I would not have been as good a player as I was senior year without Avery's encouragement. But I also wasn't out to Kyle, and I didn't feel like I could be. Even if he didn't react negatively to finding out I was gay, I couldn't risk guys on the team knowing. And the switch in roommates couldn't have come at a worse time. Earlier in the summer, Greg and I had planned our dates around his work schedule, but that was easy compared to finding some excuse to not hang out with Kyle or my other teammates once practice started up again. It was August now, and school and the fall mini-season were ramping up. I was able to use going over to see Holt as an excuse, but I knew I couldn't keep doing that. Still, Greg and I made it work. Like one particular Tuesday, he and I had been texting all morning and into the afternoon. And as I wrapped up my workout at the campus gym, I sent him a proposition by text. "A quickie?" It was Greg's day off. Kyle had just left to grab lunch with his girlfriend, Julie, and I had a little time to go over to Greg's before afternoon batting practice. "Oh yeah," came the quick response. I felt my prick chub in my athletic briefs and shorts on the drive over to Greg's place. I hadn't had time to change out of my workout attire, but I had to hope that Greg was into the college baseball jock look: dark-blue Virginia Baseball shirt, mesh gym shorts, sneakers, and a Virginia ball cap. To say he was into it was an understatement. "Jesus," he said with excitement as I walked into his place. My sweat-dampened shirt clung to the muscles of my chest and shoulders, and my shorts did nothing to hide the clear outline of my growing cock. His eyes swept up and down my tall, athletic form, and I regretted not gearing up for him before. The look of lust was so apparent in his green eyes and dimpled smile as he stood in front of me in just a T-shirt and sweats. "I felt a little horny," I said, looking down at him with an impish grin. I think when Greg and I first went out on our dates, I was hesitant to show him the full extent of my libido, but I was feeling more sexually comfortable now. I stepped up, taking hold of his sides with my hands and pulling my boyfriend in for a deep kiss. We had to turn heads to work around the bill of my cap, but I sensed Greg wanted me to keep it on. Particularly when he pulled back and got another look. I could feel that he was on up on the balls of his bare feet as his hands clung to my back "I can't believe I'm dating a real jock," he laughed. I could feel his hands run up and down my muscled back. I pulled his chest closer to mine and watched Greg get this seriously lusty expression in his eyes before slowly crouching down in front of me. I let my hands fall to my side as I watched him get on his knees. I got a rise out of seeing him in that position, his hands traveling up the front of my quads through my shorts, sliding over my groin and then massaging my growing dick. Greg usually preferred blowjobs in bed, and the change in venue felt naughty and fun. He took a second to stroke the large, fat, 8-inch length beneath the mesh and spandex as it snaked down one leg and began leaking at the tip. Like unwrapping a present, his fingers peeled down my shorts and then lifted one leg of my briefs over the length of my hardening dong. My prick fell out, heavy and swaying, and my balls plopped out next. Greg's focus seemed to be on my genitals now as he approached them with his face and opened his mouth wide to take me in. I sighed at the hot wet feel of his mouth and tongue, and especially the snug feel of his stretching lips as he took in my girth. I wasn't fully erect, but I soon firmed up in his mouth. I gently held his copper-haired head and felt the soft suckling and the warm wetness of his spit surrounding my dick head. As Greg's hands took hold of my hips, I finally got to full hardness. I staggered my stance and bit my lip. And at that moment, I resented Greg's no-talking approach a little. I wanted to let loose with the sex talk. So I did, some. "Suck that baseball jock dick," I hissed, now slowly pumping my hips. He wasn't deepthroating me, as he only had about half my cock buried between his lips. I gently pulled his face onto my cock but wasn't outright fucking his mouth, more accentuating the up and down motions he had going on. "I'm so fucking horny..." Greg kept sucking, working his overstuffed mouth around my shaft as I began to feel my balls draw up with sexual urgency. It wasn't a rushed blowjob, but I was more worked up than I anticipated for sure. "Greg... I'm gonna cum, man..." I warned as my abs began to crunch a little. A few more bobs and I was exploding into his mouth. He pulled back, letting my dick rest on his tongue as he moaned, savoring my thickly pumping load. The orgasm was good, if not in my top ten of earth-shattering cums. I sometimes find that a quick cum isn't as rewarding as one I've built up to. But the aftershocks of that day hit me with waves of pleasure as Greg continued to nurse on my dribbling cock. He finally pulled off and softly spit my softening dick out. "We should do quickies more often," he laughed as he wiped his dripping mouth. I crouched and reached under his arms and pulled him up unto his feet. With my shorts still around my hips and my cock still out, I pulled him in close and hoarsely whispered against his smooth cheek. "Your turn." "Wanna go to the bedroom?" he asked as he pulled back to look at me with emerald green eyes. I remembered that Greg was more inclined to orgasm sitting or lying than standing. I nodded and pulled up my briefs and shorts before following him back down the hallway to his bedroom. Hurriedly, he stripped his sweatpants and T-shirt and lay back naked on his covers. I hunkered in place at the foot of the bed, between his legs, and took a quick second to admire his hard erection, the tightly drawn heavy nuts and his dark copper pubes. I ran my hands up his thighs and gripped his hips. He watched me as I lowered my face to his crotch, looking up at him as I gave his six-inch rod a few exploratory licks then angled and craned my head to swallow him almost to the base. Greg gasped. I didn't take my time but went full-on Bulldozer on Greg's dick. Deep throat strokes, combined with the just right amount of suction and tongue. My sucking surprised Greg by its sudden intensity as he was now lying fully back onto his bed, back arched, his hands gripping the bedding above his head as he gasped with soft moans. "Fuck!" he gasped. Not cumming yet, but getting very excited quickly. I took that as encouragement to double my efforts, running my hands along his strong furry quads and really working his prick with a concerted intensity. It took maybe a half a minute of that before I was getting Greg there. Again, Greg wasn't a verbal cummer, but his body gave a slight shiver then tensed and I felt his dick grow even harder as the piss tube pulsed and fired hot, briny seed into my mouth and down my throat. I didn't so much swallow as milked it out of his balls, bobbing my head in rhythm to each cum shot. When he was finally done and I pulled off, his face was slightly sweaty and a big smile was on his lips. "It's not fair that someone so hot can be so good at that." I ate up his compliment. "I guess I was a little worked up. It's been a week." Greg nodded then seemed surprised. "You mean you haven't jacked off since the last time?" "Oh no, I didn't say that," I laughed as I stood back up. Greg slipped some underwear on as I sat on the bed and watched his lithe, compact body get redressed. "I've gotta get back, I'm afraid. But I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked. I'd planned to use going over to Holt's as an excuse to Kyle for my date night with Greg. He nodded. "Yeah, looking forward to it, Jim." He walked me to the door and gave me a very soft, very tender parting kiss. I thought about that kiss all day. **** I thought Greg enjoyed the quickie. But early Thursday morning, as I slipped out of his bed, I heard him rustle in the sheets behind me and his morning voice speak up in a groggy way. "What do you want to do today?" Greg asked. "I gotta head to campus, actually," I said matter-of-factly as I threw the covers back and stood up naked out of bed. "Thursday's my big workout day." I looked back and could immediately tell he was upset but chose not to say anything. "It's important, Greg," I sighed. "I'm sorry..." "Well," he said, trying to choose his words carefully. "It's not about today. It just feels like sometimes you're only interested in getting your rocks off and leaving." I felt a little defensive. "What the hell? You like the sex, too." He blushed a little. "Yeah, I do. And I'm not trying to get on your case, Jim. I just wonder what we're doing." "What do you mean?" I asked as I picked up my jock strap and stepped into it. I'd been wearing straps more and more for dates or sleepovers at Greg's since I knew he was turned on by them. "We're dating." He slipped out of bed as well and was now getting dressed, too. "Sometimes I feel like more of a fuckbuddy. Like the guys you were with before." "You're more than that, Greg," I said, a little hurt. "Maybe. But we've been going out almost three months now and it feels like we're in this comfortable groove going nowhere." "You want to break up?" I asked in an even-keeled tone, trying to feel him out. This was not the conversation I wanted to have first thing in the morning, but here it was, regardless. He shook his head no. "You're the hottest guy I'll ever meet, Jim. I just want us to think about what we want, check in with each other." I wasn't sure I understood. Maybe he was just kicking the can down the road. "You know you're my first boyfriend, Greg. I gotta figure this out as I go," I said. I wasn't sure I placated his concerns, but I added, "How about I make you a nice dinner next week?" I wasn't much of a cook, but I could try. Greg smiled. "I'd like that." **** A lot was on my mind the next time I hung out with Charlie and Scott. I was overdue for a visit, since I'd used them as an excuse to Kyle already. I felt bad all around neglecting my friend some, but it was like Holt understood, and things seemed to be busy in his and Scott's lives, too. Besides, it was just great to just hang out with the guys and have some dinner, even if I held back on drinking. Scott owned a house outside of town, almost in the country though it wasn't a far drive. It was a nice, modern ranch style place, and I got a kick out of seeing Holt living a tidier lifestyle. After eating we retired to the basement den which had more of a masculine, man cave vibe... big TV, plush couches, and a line of Scott's trophies and plaques on the wall, with some of Holt's football pictures framed and displayed as well. I don't know if any of us were invested in the Big Ten game on the TV, but for them, watching college football was a ritual each Saturday. "How's things with Greg?" Holt finally asked with a twinkle in his eye as we all sat in front of the TV watching the football game. Charlie and Scott both had beers in hand as they sat cozied up together on the large couch next to me. "Good, buddy," I answered with a half-hearted half smile. "Just good?" my friend prompted. Scott kind of shot him a disapproving look, like he sometimes did when Holt got on my case. I appreciated the way Scott looked out for me sometimes, almost like a much older brother. I didn't know how much I should share. But this was Holt. My best buddy. So I knew I could. I sat back further into the sofa. "I dunno," I said as I shrugged my shoulders. "I mean, the sex is great. So we definitely click. I always have a great time with him. And I like how he doesn't expect me to be public with anything." Greg wasn't out at work, so he was patient with keeping a low profile in dating. It was perfect for me, really. "But..." Scott prodded, his arm around Charlie's shoulder. I sighed. "Um, I know Greg's kind of your friend, too." "Not a close one," Scott assured me. "And if he was, I'm not going to tell him anything." He pulled his arm from around Charlie and put his hands on his legs and leaned forward. "I can let you guys talk in private though," he said as he hoisted his big body up off the couch. "No, you don't have to..." I objected as I watched him stand up. "It'll be better," Scott assured me. "You guys need some friend time." He gave Charlie an affectionate squeeze of the shoulder as he walked past. Looking at me as he smirked and joked, "I've been giving Charlie some lessons on how to be a good listener, so feel free to get what's off your chest, Jim." Charlie laughed and shot Scott a glare. "I mean this in the most loving way, babe... but fuck you..." Scott gave a hearty belly laugh as he walked out of the room and back upstairs, probably to clean up after dinner. Holt and I sat there, quiet for a brief minute as the football game played on. But my former roommate finally urged, "Okay, McGrath, spill it. What's going on?" I nodded, relieved that I had the chance to talk about this openly. Holt set his beer down as I described some of the tension Greg and I had been having. But I found myself tiptoeing to thoughts I'd been feeling, but hadn't dared express. "I really like Greg," I said honestly. "I love dating him... but I don't think I love him, Holt. I mean, should I? Does that come in time?" I felt out of my depths when it came to romance. Charlie could see the confusion and frustration on my face. "You gotta follow your gut, McGrath," he said with a small shrug. "Fuck," I groaned, with a nervous laugh in my voice, too. "I figured you'd say something like that." "You're a cute couple for what that's worth," he said with a small smirk. I nodded, agreeing with him on that note. I lowered my voice and asked, "When did you know with Scott?". Holt matched my posture on the couch and grinned slyly. "Funny thing, McGrath. At first I thought it was just sucking off the boss... you know, forbidden fruit. But once I realized Scott was interested in me, I mean really interested in me, I knew I was head over heels buddy. Been that way ever since..." "That's awesome, Holt," I said with a smile, sincerely happy for my friend. He gave me an encouraging grin. "All I'm saying is, I don't think everyone is on the same path. Maybe Greg's the one, maybe he's not, but you'll figure it out at some point." **** I wish I had Holt's optimism. But I did approach my next date with Greg in a more upbeat way. I carved out time and did my best to make a pasta dinner over at Greg's place, making an extra effort to dote on him. Even for the sex, I went at it easier, lots of making out, no sex talk, and some frot action before we had a 69. I enjoyed it, but Greg seemed particularly happy. Still, my doubts didn't go away. The next day I was at the gym, in between sets at the bench press, sweating and sitting on a workout bench when I sent a text to Jack Grant, asking if we could talk. We usually just texted since he was so busy, but I really wanted to talk to him. He replied back and we set a time for later that evening when he was free. I felt silly for having to call Dad's friend when I had boy trouble, but I still considered Jack to be my friend, too. That evening, I was alone at the apartment, doing homework at my desk when my cell phone rang. I smiled down at my buzzing phone and closed my laptop as I answered his call. Jack greeted me in his cheery manner, his midwestern flat-twang coming out as we made small talk. I asked how DC life was treating him and he gave me some general but positive comments that life was good, and he actually sounded happy with the move. Then he acknowledged the reason for the call. "All right, Jim, You said you wanted advice?" "Yeah, Jack," I said as I leaned back in my desk chair and looked up at the ceiling. "I, uh, I'm kind of dating a guy." "Kind of dating?" Jack teased. I chuckled. "No, actually dating. He's my boyfriend... my first one. Only, I just don't know how serious it is." "Dumb question, but have you asked him what he thinks?" Jack asked. "Some," I replied somberly, letting Jack feel just how much this was weighing on me. "I mean, he's been clear that he likes us being exclusive, but he's not wanting to rush anything." "And you want to rush into something more...?" Jack was still trying to figure out what my concern was. I let out an exasperated sigh. "You know, I thought I would. I mean, fuck, I've been wanting a boyfriend so bad for so long, and now that I have one, I'm not sure he's the one." "How's the sex?" Jack asked point blank. His bluntness caught me off guard. "...What do you mean?" I could hear his grin from the other end of the phone. "You're like me, Jim. Sex is important to you. Is this guy good in bed? Does he check most of the boxes?" "Yeah, he's good," I said, but suddenly feeling like it was only a half-truth. "But... not great." It was the truth, and I felt embarrassed saying that out loud, but intuitively I knew why Jack asked. He was right. This was more important to me than I wanted to admit. "I mean, I enjoy my time with him, and it's a hell of a lot better than the sex I wasn't having." Jack laughed. "Fair point." I paused, then asked, "You saying I should break up with him if the sex isn't great?" "I'm not saying that," he clarified. "Relationships are a compromise and only you can decide what to compromise on. But you're a very sexual young man, Jim, and if you compromise on that, it should be for a good reason." I nodded again. "Thanks," I said, with a soft sigh, suddenly feeling like I had more options. "I was expecting more of a 'fuck off, Lieutenant Commander," he joked. "I value your advice, Jack," I said sincerely. "You know that." "Well tell me how it works out.... and Jim..." "Yeah?" "I'm glad you're putting yourself out there. You deserve to be happy, buddy." **** "Jim... you're killing me," Greg pleaded as he lay back naked in his bed with his knees pulled over his chest. It was about the fifth minute straight I'd been rimming his hole, my hands holding his thighs back and hips up to be level with my mouth. I loved Greg's ass. He had hard round buns, creamy white, with just a dusting of his copper-colored hair deep in the crack. I pulled my mouth back and took a look at the amazing sight. The crinkled pink pucker fluttering and wet with my spit, the hairs around it matted down. It was beautiful and masculine. I spit a wad of saliva right onto his pucker and leaned back in to press forward with my tongue, giving a soft growl as I did. I could feel his hamstrings quiver underneath my hands and his hole dilate around my invading tongue. Greg didn't really enjoy getting rimmed at first. Or at least he said he didn't. But I persisted, and maybe it was the challenge of trying to convert him, but I ate him out like it was my last chance to rim a guy ever. It was after a particularly long and deep rimjob that Greg had shyly admitted to me that, yeah, it turned him on. So I was now trying to repeat what I'd done that first time, circling around his hole with my tongue in between deeper fluttering motions against his sensitive ring. "Oh God, Jim, just fuck me," my paramedic boyfriend moaned. One area where we weren't compatible in bed was with verbalizing sex. I loved sex talk and initially tried it with Greg, but he later confessed he didn't seem real comfortable with it. I was OK with that. Some guys just liked to focus on the physical connection. But I missed the horniness and playfulness of verbal sex. The upshot, though, was that when Greg spoke up and asked to get fucked, it made me that much harder. Even though I wasn't exclusively a top with him, I really enjoyed filling that role for him. I had lubed up already and was now crawling over and leaning up on him, lifting his legs up onto my shoulders and humping my slicked cock up and down along his exposed wet trench. Greg moaned excitedly as he watched my face, and I think he expected me to plow right into him. I know I could have. Greg's a built guy, but not as strong as I was. Plus, I had extra height on him. I felt a rush of power as I looked down into his green eyes, which pleaded with me to give him what he wanted. "You want this big dick, don't you?" Greg might not enjoy being verbal with me, but I wanted it at the moment. He nodded his head. "Please," he said softly. I grinned and reached down with my left hand to guide my 8-inch prick, pressing the fat head against his wet pucker. Greg's moans were louder as I pressed forward, feeling his hole stretch open to accommodate me. I could hear him suck air, expecting the intrusion. My boyfriend was great at bottoming. And the more we fucked, the more easily he was able to be readily take me, despite my extra-wide endowment. "Yes," he hissed as we both felt several inches of my fat cock press past his ring and lodge inside his guts. Greg was warm and tight around me. Perfect, really. I flexed my glutes and my hips and sank deeper inside him. Greg took it, too, reaching up to touch my flank, and caress my muscle encouragingly. I bottomed out and almost immediately pulled back out for another instroke. Then again. My technique had gotten better at responding to Greg's natural bottoming ability, taking the lead on what he could handle but also push him a little as well. That's what I was doing now, fucking him just on the edge of what he was expecting. Intense, deep strokes stretching him wide with each plowing. But damn, he was sure hard. His six-inch erection standing up excitedly from his copper pubes. I held on and fucked steadily, feeling his ass starting to relax around me but not going slack. Greg's eyes were fixed on me, my face mostly, but occasionally taking in all of my upper body as I fucked him. "God, Jim," he said in a low voice. "Fuck me." I pulled his ankles off my shoulders and let him wrap his legs around my waist as I leaned down into a kiss. This was our favorite position to fuck. Missionary, kissing. Greg loved to kiss during sex. He almost expected it. I grew excited myself and started thrusting harder, feeling the man's arms cling to me and feeling more than hearing his groan of lust. Then, as I banged him faster, I heard the groan turn to a whimper. We'd not achieved a hands-free orgasm in our pairings before, but I knew, instinctively, Greg was about to have one. He humped excitedly against my thrusting abdomen and I could feel the tension clench his muscles in waves. I was kissing him and he grunted in my mouth as I felt the first spurts of hot seed against my torso. I pushed in with metronomic regularity, punching out that ejaculate from the inside out. The knowledge that I was making my boyfriend cum had me letting loose with my own orgasm. It wasn't instantaneous - I can't turn it on or off with a switch - but once I stopped holding back, it only took a few strokes before I felt the pleasure start to build up in me. A few more pivots of my hips and I leaned up my body, letting out a grunt as my cum pulsed inside him. It was a welcome release, and I know I had a big smile on my face as I dismounted and lay next to Greg on my back. He had a happy expression, too. "God, Jim, you're really great at that." I ate up his flattery. I ran my fingers up his sternum, feeling the cum smeared there from his orgasm across his creamy skin. "You inspire me," I said with a grin. "You're really hot, you know that." He leaned over, bringing his mouth to mine, and we kissed softly. We took our time to enjoy the connection, his hands roaming over my sweaty chest and abs as I pulled him closer to me. When we broke, we still had goofy grins. Sex had a distinct way of making me happy and content. "I'm just glad you could spend more time over tonight," he said next to me, not passive aggressively but definitely with an undertone of complaint. Classes had started back up again and it felt even harder for me to find time for Greg lately, but he was in training too, so it wasn't just me with less time. "It's been nice," I said, tightening my arm around him. Maybe if I were a better boyfriend I would have come up with a better word than "nice." But that's how I felt. Time with Greg was... nice. My first impulse with Greg this week had been to just enjoy the casual dating and to connect on the level where we knew we were a good match. But I realized maybe putting things on autopilot wasn't the best plan in the long run. I felt I wasn't very good at it, but I said, trying to formulate something worth saying, "How are you with everything between us?" My voice was unsure, but I acted like I was sure in my question. Greg looked at me with heavy expectation and replied, "I'm crazy about you, Jim. Maybe we can keep spending more time together." I nodded. "Yeah, I'll see what I can do. I know I've not always been the best boyfriend." "We're both busy," Greg said in a conciliatory tone. "I should ask if you want something more serious." I paused. I should have said no. But I hedged my reply. "I do. I just gotta take my time. If that's OK?" Greg nodded. "Yeah, OK." **** Our conversation made me feel guilty all the next day while in classes. I knew I was still attracted to Greg. But I had to admit that the spark had faded. I thought of what Jack said and mulled over my sex life. It was great but maybe not everything I wanted. I thought of the things Greg and I had in common and our differences, too, but it came down to a gut feeling rather than a list of pros and cons. Somehow, I just wasn't feeling it. Despite my desire not to hurt Greg, I questioned whether I could drag this on. In retrospect I think I already knew that. I just didn't have the guts to tell Greg how I felt. When I came over to his place the next day, I wasn't sure if I'd have the guts then either. Maybe I'd just get a blowjob and let things coast like they'd been doing. But as Greg opened the door, greeting me with a kiss and a smile as I walked into his living room, I just knew I had to do it. His smile faded as he must have noticed the look on my face. I stood in front of him, hands in my pockets, my eyes now contrite and serious as he looked a little concerned. "Greg," I started nervously. "I'm not sure I can commit to us. Not like I should." I got my words out before I had a chance to second guess myself. "Is this the talk?" he asked cynically. His good mood instantly dispelled. "Yeah, I think it is." I felt like crying. It was such an awful feeling to break up with someone I genuinely liked. "You're great, Greg, I just don't know if I can be the boyfriend you want." "Are you saying my expectations are what's driving this?" His voice was hurt and surprisingly hostile. "No. Fuck." I was going with my gut, but damnit this was hard. I looked Greg in the eyes, but the frosty look I was getting back made me cower. "I've never done this before. I don't know what I should be feeling. But I think it should be more. I can't explain it." My words trailed off, and I suddenly felt dumb and inexperienced. The cold look on his face didn't exactly break, but it was like he was putting on a poker face blankness for me, and that act made me feel shittier. "All right," he said in resignation. His voice was quiet, like he was trying to keep his emotions in check. Then after a pause, he added, "You should go." "Maybe we can still hang out sometime, you know... be friends?" I offered. "Maybe," Greg said softly. "We'll see." Then he gave me one last look before I stepped out his front door. "Take care, Jim." **** I had gone from having my first boyfriend to my first breakup. As awful as I felt, I didn't wallow in pity about it. After all, I'd been the one to call things off. But I felt down and dejected for the next couple of weeks. Kyle asked what was up, noticing I wasn't quite myself lately. But I blamed it on my busy school schedule, which had an element of truth. Instead, I channeled my energy at the gym, with the result of seeing some real gains. The Fall baseball season was short, mostly exhibition games, but it allowed the guys on the team to see where their skills were after a summer of practice and strength training, and I was pleased that my batting mechanics were starting to click. Over the next couple weeks, I found some more time to bond with Kyle. I think I'd almost resented him some while I was dating Greg - not in a rational way, but finding his presence an obstacle to my dating life - but we soon got into a good groove as friends and roommates beginning my senior year. He was easy going like Holt, though in a different way. Less of a slob and more eager to bond with me over baseball. In hindsight, for those last two semesters of college it was like we lived, breathed, and ate baseball. Kyle also became my dedicated lifting buddy. He was more lanky than I was, but still strong where it counted. He was a pitcher, so he had those muscled and sinewed arms and strong shoulders. He was just an inch shorter than I was but you could tell I still had 20 pounds of solid muscle on him. We pushed each other during workouts, conditioning runs, and at practice. Sharing our baseball dreams in the evenings instead as we watched major league games on TV. It was awesome. And day by day, week by week, the sting of my breakup with Greg felt a little less painful. He never texted or called, and neither did I. I know I offered up the chance to hang out sometime, but it seemed like one of those things that he wasn't going to take me up on. **** Dad came home in September. I was too busy with classes to go down to Norfolk to welcome him home, but instead he came up for a weekend visit the following week. We'd been texting all day Friday. And finally, around 6:30 that evening, he showed up at the apartment after my afternoon practice. I'd barely had the chance to shower and get changed when the doorbell rang. I answered the door with my hair still damp, to find Dad standing there in casual dress. Maybe unconsciously, a part of me expected to see him in his Navy uniform, since over the years, that was what I was used to seeing him in after such a long time at sea. Instead, Dad wore his favorite Navy sweatshirt and blue jeans, and he took his hands out of his pockets and greeted me with a deep hug. I stepped right into his embrace, feeling a little emotional at finally seeing him again after so long. "Hey, Slugger," he growled affectionately as he patted my back. "Missed you." "Missed you, too, Dad," I said, a little hoarseness in my throat. With my hands around his back, I pulled myself against his solid barrel chest and savored the feel of Dad's stubble against my cheek. The thing about Dad's homecomings is the way emotions would pour out, the kind I'd kind of kept in check. Even now that I was older and not living at home, Dad's homecoming still hit me in an emotional place. Dad finally let me go as he pulled me back, still gripping my shoulders as he got a good look at me. "Damn, you've gained some muscle since last time," he said with a kidding smile. "Yes, sir," I grinned with that goofy smile of mine. "Just about ready for dinner, Slugger?" he asked, still grinning. "I reserved a table at The Barn," he said, referring to an old-school steakhouse in the area. "Figured it would be a belated birthday celebration for both of us." "Sounds amazing, Dad," I said as I welcomed him into the apartment. "You want to meet my roommate first? I still gotta get my shoes on." Dad nodded and stepped into the place and followed me further into the apartment. He still had that military, gym-built bulk in his chest and shoulders. His square jaw, high brow and a prominent Roman nose framed his still classically and stoically handsome face. He'd gotten a bit of tan from his time at sea, and it reminded me a bit of our time in Mexico. He had a few more gray hairs in his dark brown, well-groomed Navy officer haircut, especially at his temples. His usual countenance, somewhere between earnest and stern, radiated the experience of his years as a Naval officer. But as he walked back toward the kitchen, his gray eyes and grin had a relaxed, almost youthful playfulness. Dad was usually such a stickler for Navy rules and regulations, but now a five o'clock shadow showed on his classically handsome face, and I could see the glint of gray hairs in his short stubble as well. It was cool to see my father in a more relaxed mode. Kyle was in the kitchen, his back to us as he faced the stove making dinner. He had a dining-in date with Julie that evening. "Kyle, this is my Dad. Dad, meet my roommate, Kyle..." I said, making introductions. Kyle turned around, wiping off his hands with a dish towel as he smiled. "Pleasure to meet ya', Mr. McGrath." Dad, of course, was all formal and friendly as he stepped forward to take Kyle's hand in a firm, very Navy officer grip. "Robert McGrath... Nice to meet you, Kyle. Jim's told me a lot about you." He turned his attention to the stove. "Hope you've been giving my son some cooking lessons," he joked. Kyle chuckled. "'Fraid not... Not much of a cook myself. Gotta impress the girlfriend though," he smirked. He and Dad chatted a bit while I went to my room to put on my shoes and grab my ball cap and a small wrapped package from my desk. "Ready?" Dad asked when he saw me reappear. When I nodded, he turned to Kyle. "We'll get out of your hair. But it was great to meet you. I'll see you around, I expect." "Yes, sir," Kyle said, his Georgia accent coming through. "Enjoy y'all's dinner," my roommate said to both of us as we stepped out of the kitchen. "What's that?" Dad asked outside the apartment as we walked to his car. He'd finally noticed the box I held. "A little present," I grinned. "You didn't need to do that," Dad objected. I never knew if it was false modesty or if he really didn't like his sons spending money on a present for him. I just grinned in return as we got in the car and drove to the restaurant. It was great to catch up in person rather than over a video call or email. And Dad was in a great mood. I noticed him smiling and laughing more than I'd seen him do in a long time. Over our large steak dinners, he asked me a million questions about my summer and about baseball and school. I didn't mention Greg Collins, but I told him about Holt moving out, and about my best friend's relationship with Scott. It was actually the first time I'd told Dad this and he seemed pleasantly surprised. "I didn't know your friend was gay... that must have made things easier," he said with soft reflection. I nodded. "Oh yeah," I said. "Like, I don't know how I would have gotten through those years without him." Dad looked at me with a pause. "Does Kyle know?" I shook my head and gave a quick frow. "I just... can't let guys on the team know." I expected a lecture from Dad, but instead he reached across the table and just patted my arm. Not overtly weird or corny, just a father letting me know he was there for me. Changing the subject, I asked Dad about his time at sea. He was circumspect about the details of his deployment but instead, just gave me a relaxed, happy look and said, "I'm just really glad to be home. I can't wait to go to St. Louis next weekend, too," he added. "How is my niece doing?" I asked. I had talked to Paul a couple of times, first to congratulate him on his newborn daughter and later to check in. Despite not getting a lot of time off at his job, Paul loved doting on Megan and his new baby girl. John made a trip out to visit a month back and had emailed me a bunch of pictures. She was cute, and I could see the McGrath in her. I probably wasn't the best uncle, as I'd otherwise been preoccupied with my own life lately. "Emma... she's healthy and well," Dad replied. "How does it feel to be a grandpa?" I teased. "Guess I'm not thrilled about getting old," Dad admitted, "but it's a joy, really." "Oh... Before I forget..." I said, pulling up the small wrapped package. "This is from all of us. Happy birthday, Dad." "Jim..." Dad said with clear emotion in his baritone voice as he took the present. He unwrapped the box and saw it was a particularly nice fountain pen. Dad had a few in his collection. "Oh, Jimbo," he enthused. "We all chipped in - John, Paul, and Matt - it's from all of us. We felt you deserved something special for your 50th." Dad seemed emotional, almost teary as he got out of his seat and came over to give me a quick hug as I stood up as well. "It's amazing, son. I'm touched." He felt embarrassed for his emotion as he sat back down. "I feel bad I didn't get you more than a check this year. Though I have a part two to your birthday gift in mind...." "Yeah?" I asked, intrigued. "What do you say about coming to the Army-Navy game this year?" he asked as we dug into a nice ribeye. "If you're free that weekend, I can pick you up that Friday." He knew I had no Friday afternoon class that semester. "Matt'll be there and you guys can share a room." "Yeah?" I asked, surprised. I knew Matt had completed his basic flight training and was now logging in hours at his new duty station in Corpus Christi. But I didn't follow the ins-and-outs of what it took to become a navy pilot. And Matt was practically turning into Dad when it came to the Navy, and it was now all pilot lingo whenever we talked about his job. "Yes, he lined his leave up. Might be the last window for him for a while," Dad said. "I haven't seen Matt in a while. It'd be really cool to go," I said with enthusiasm. The game was a tradition, something Dad's always done, ever since his years at the academy, when circumstances would allow. "I mean, I don't want to crash the party or anything," I added. Dad smirked, but he knew what I meant. I'd be the only non-Navy guy there. "It's a weekend to let loose all right, but it's nothing that wild, Jim. I think you'd enjoy it. Really." "If you think so, Dad," I said. Getting out of town and hanging out with Dad and Matt did sound like a great belated birthday getaway. After dinner, we stopped for a beer at a college-fratty sports bar, not the one Ben had frequented. Dad and I got a couple drafts and settled at a high table against the wall. But as we downed our beers, I got the feeling Dad was feeling tired. "Still not adjusted to the time zone," he admitted when I asked. "OK if we call it a night after this round?" "Of course," I said with a nod as I finished off my pint. Dad gave a quick nod, then lowered his voice. "Um, Slugger, I don't know if you were expecting anything to happen this weekend. And I don't wanna presume. But I'm gonna go ahead and say no... you understand..." My heart pounded. I had approached the weekend with the decision not to push Dad on sex. I even told myself I shouldn't be pining for it, especially since I was still trying to navigate the fallout from my break-up with Greg. Truth was, though, that I'd been extra horny lately and would have jumped at the opportunity to fool around with my father again. "I get it, Dad," I said simply. Dad looked at me with an appreciative gaze as I admired his features, highlighted in the neon light from the bar window. Damn, he was so attractive, and while he was only a few months older than last time I saw him, the idea he was now in his 50s gave me a certain thrill. In addition to the complete taboo of lusting after my father, the idea of being with a man that age seemed like forbidden fruit. "I appreciate it, Jim... I... I need to focus more on dating. It's time. And it's easier without the complications." "That's cool," I said. "You know, Dad.... This summer, well... I ended up dating someone." "Yeah, Jimbo?" Dad was both surprised and excited. I didn't want him to get too excited. "It didn't work out, but it was good to give it a chance, Dad. Hopefully the next boyfriend won't take me as long to find." "It won't, son," Dad said confidently. "I'm sorry it didn't work, and I'm not gonna pry. But it sometimes takes some trial and error to find the right one." I nodded, taking in the fatherly advice. Mostly I felt a strange satisfaction that I had something to tell Dad, that he wouldn't think I was relying on him, despite our weird affair. **** It took a few weeks after my breakup with Greg, but my libido finally came roaring back with a vengeance. I didn't really have an outlet other than my hand. And even then, I felt more cautious about firing up my laptop to watch gay porn, knowing Kyle was around. Which meant that I'd usually have to wait till he was out or had a date with Julie. I was also sure to keep my oversized dildo well hidden, but I also found myself using it more, now that I was single again. After Greg, it was a thrill to practice my deepthroating ability on a bigger dick, even if it was a fake one. I was getting more and more confident in my oral ability now, taking Holt's lessons to heart as it got a little easier handling and deepthroating the large fake phallus. I wasn't at Holt's level, but my ability was now no longer just average. I looked forward to the day I could use it again on a real man's cock. One free Saturday evening, Kyle happened to be out and over at Julie's for the night. After my workout, I was especially worked up and finally able to enjoy a longer edge session alone in the apartment in my room. Shirtless and sitting at my desk in front of my laptop, I reclined back with my baseball shorts and briefs around my ankles, one hand fiddling with my computer while the other was wrapped around my solid shaft as I watched a bunch of some of my favorite video clips. Military, daddy-themed, older tops plowing younger bottoms, and just one with two hot guys getting physical and verbal as the top bent the bottom over and railed his ass from behind. I was getting more and more turned on as I slowly stroked my raging hardon in my left hand and brought my monstrous dildo to my open mouth with the other. With my eyes glued to the screen, I stuck my tongue out and sucked a bit on the head of my dildo. And then had a better idea. I pulled open my desk drawer, rummaging around until I found a bottle of lube I'd stashed. I pulled the fake cock from my mouth and greased it up. Reclining far back into my desk chair, I threw one leg up on my desk. My rock hard cock now rested against my slightly furred and crunched abs as I squirted some slick onto my fingers, letting them slip past my cock and sac. I parted my legs, lifting my other knee up and spreading my muscled cheeks, then I dug into my cleft with lubed fingers. I gasped as I felt my cool, wet fingers smear my neglected entrance with lube. I looked back at the screen, a close up of the bottom's smooth hole getting stretched by his older hung top, as I brought the slick tip of my 11 inch dildo to my lubed hole. Cautiously, I had my laptop speakers on low, but I could still hear the younger bottom chanting "fuck me... fuck me," in a mantra while on screen the mature top grew more forceful with this thrusts. I bit my lip and pressed the rubber cockhead against my sealed pucker. I knew my ass would be tight, and it was. There was the familiar sting and then low throb of pain as my dildo breached my hole. I remembered the discomfort, but I was horny, and the initial penetration wasn't too bad. But it took me a while to work the head of that rubber cock inside me. And even then, I got only a few inches in. But as that sting of penetration subsided, that familiar pleasure returned, and even the slight discomfort went away when I stroked my still-solid cock once more. I could feel my chute clenching around the few inches pushed inside me as the pleasure began to build. So I stroked more, getting perilously close to ending my edge session with a cum. I wedged another inch in, feeling the head nudge at my excited prostate. That was when I decided to go for it. Gripping my fat meat, I gave several concerted tugs and felt my balls instantly draw up against the base of my shaft. And like that, I gasped in silence as I began shooting a huge wad all over my naked body. On screen the bottom was getting the sperm fucked out of him, just as my own seed rained down on my built torso. I felt my ass push the dildo out as I lowered my shaking legs. It took me a minute to come down from that orgasm. I set the dildo aside and lay back in my chair, head back and eyes closed, to catch my breath. When I did, I had a huge smile and a sense of sexual relief. I quickly cleaned up and cleaned my dildo before putting it away in its hiding place. It was another week before I had the chance to play with myself like that again. This time, naked and on my bed, I worked a considerable amount of that dong in and out, reacquainting myself with the fuller-body pleasure of bottoming. I didn't even watch porn this time. I just closed my eyes and imagined some older guy fucking me. No one specific. Or maybe a combination of a bunch of men. Dad. Norfolk ex-Navy guy. Coach Weir. They all combined into a fit, middle-aged stud leaning over me, spreading my thighs and pounding me, conquering my hole and telling me to open up and take it all. All while that dildo pushed deeper and faster in and out of me, almost, just barely guided by my right hand while my left stroked harder. "Fuck!" I cried, feeling my body tense and writhe against the sheets as I gave way to another amazing orgasm. **** It had been tough going from regular sex to just masturbation. I missed the contact of another man. It was almost perfect timing when I got a text message from Rear Admiral Bill Henson out of the blue. I'd been studying at my desk. It was late, just before bed as I was dressed in just my baseball shorts when I heard my phone ring, notifying me of a new text message. I picked up my phone, expecting it to be Holt. "Hey pup. Long time no hear." My contact didn't have his real name, just a number. But after a second I remembered who it was. "Hi sir," I typed back. Even while texting, the man could be direct and intimidating. His reply came quickly. "I've been thinking about before." I dropped my pencil and stared down at the message for a second. I didn't want to put anything too incriminating in our texts, he was still Dad's superior after all. But then my phone chimed again as I watched the next message bubble appear. "You want more?" he asked. I felt my heart beat faster as I remembered the last two sessions I'd had with the Admiral. My hands trembled as I typed back, surprised how easily it was for me to answer. "Yes." Just then the phone rang in my hands. He was calling. I got up and shut the door of my room right before bringing my phone to my ear. "I might be able to meet tomorrow after work." Jesus, the man cut straight to the chase. He gave off that "my time is valuable" vibe. "You able to come up to Northern Virginia again?" I usually grabbed dinner with Kyle after our Thursday workout, but I could tell him I had plans with Holt. "I could do that," I replied. "Perfect," he said. "8 work?" "Yes, sir," I said, answering him like I was one of his well-trained junior officers. "You better be ready," he said sternly. "Yes, sir," I said. He hung up without a reply. I knew Henson could be rough in the sack, but I was more mentally prepared this time and felt less intimidated than last time. The next day, I made my excuse to Kyle as we left the gym after our workout. I think I was nervous he'd read my face and see through me somehow. But everything was normal. He was hanging out with Julie that evening and had left me alone in the apartment when he went to meet her. I got ready and waited for Henson's text. Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, I dropped my towel and stood naked in front of my bedroom mirror, admiring how my body had bulked and toned up over the past season. After rummaging in my dresser, I had a classic white jockstrap in one hand, twisting my hips to the side as I gave my ass one glance over before stepping into the strap. I pulled it over my tight waist with a snap, adjusting my overstuffed package. My hookup, Brian, the Navy vet, had loved me in a strap. And as I saw how the two thinner straps accentuated the fuller shape of my athletic buns, I wondered if Henson would like it too. I pulled on a pair of baseball shorts along with a snug fitting baseball T. I had just finished brushing my teeth and was fixing my hair when I heard my phone chime with a notification. At last, the Rear Admiral sent me the name of a hotel in the outer DC suburbs. I immediately grabbed my keys and ball cap, and I was out the door. I drove up, feeling the rush of nervousness the whole way. A couple hours later, I arrived to find that the place was more of a basic cheap hotel than the one Jack had when he hosted our threesome. Something about it made the whole encounter feel extra tawdry, and I couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing. And that only increased the nervous feeling in my gut when I finally parked and entered the hotel to search out his room. As I walked through the building, I took a few calming breaths until I was good. I knocked on the right door, and when the man opened it part way, I noticed that he wasn't in uniform this time. Instead, he was dressed in casual civilian clothes - khakis and a tucked-in collared shirt. Even in warm-weather clothing, his bulk was still imposing, almost as much as it was in uniform. He lacked the chiseled jaw like Jack or Dad, but his facial structure was still hard and strong, and clean-shaven. His strawberry blond and graying hair was still the same style. A bit longer than Dad's, but the Admiral slicked his down, accentuating his prominent forehead. He had a leer on his face as he opened the door further, letting me step into his darkened hotel room. The door shut behind me. "Jesus, you're a sight for sore eyes, pup," he said gruffly as his dark eyes swept up and down my form as he watched me walk past him. The military man eyed me like I was dinner. I guess Henson liked the baseball jock look, all right. "You told me to be ready," I said a bit bravely, feeling goosebumps break out over my body as I watched his green-flecked brown eyes eat me up. Part of it was the draft from the air conditioning in the hotel room, but it was also the sense of being exposed in front of this man, literally and figuratively. The seasoned Naval officer liked my reply. He gave a quiet stare, then growled, "In that case, why don't you get to sucking my cock?" It wasn't said as a question. I reveled in his authoritative schtick for the moment and enjoyed the change of pace from Greg's softer sexual demeanor. Maybe Henson's gruffness wasn't what I'd want in general, but as an antidote, it was perfect. I tossed my ball cap onto the desk and crouched down in front of him, daring to touch the crotch of his suburb-dad style khakis. From my place at his feet his bulky frame looked bigger and more imposing. His bulge was already full, but as I gripped his cock it hardened into a fat truncheon in his pants. I took a second to enjoy the firmness before I reached to undo his belt, unbutton his fly and pull down the zipper. Here was my older man in spades. The kind of man who thrilled me sexually. Henson may be an asshole, I thought, but it was like I was unwrapping a favorite toy. I opened his fly and untucked the tails of his shirt. I eased down the waistband of his boxers, slipped my left hand inside and pulled out a rock hard, 6-inch, thick piece of cut dick surrounded by thick blond pubes mixed with wiry silvery hairs. I gasped again at the feel and sight of the Admiral. The beercan cock in my fist was just like I remembered. Imposingly cylindrical as I tried to wrap my fingers around the hot flesh, and failed. Henson grinned and let out a grunt as he watched me get reacquainted with his meat. With his pants now open, I lifted the leaking tip to my lips and licked up and down the fat shaft. This was better than my trusty dildo back home. I slicked him down with spit before I took the thick helmet head into my mouth. "Fuck yes, pup. Suck Daddy's cock," he growled. My lips stretched around the torpedo-shaped head, and I moaned to let him know I appreciated the verbal commentary. His girth stretched the corners of my lips and filled my mouth almost completely. As I felt the head slide to the back of my mouth, I opened my jaw even wider. I'd practiced on a dildo that was longer and bigger than Henson, but the officer was thicker for sure, and now giving me a challenge. Just as I was getting the hang of opening up for him, the Admiral reached down, my eyes catching to the gold flash of his wedding band right before his fingers curled around my neck, grazing the short hairs at the back of my head. I felt his thighs tense right before his hips flexed and he thrust right into my throat. My throat seized at the abrupt intrusion before I willed it to relax. His prick head nudged against my back entrance with little mini-thrusts, testing out my gag reflex. I managed without one, though, getting into the zone of the deep throat. "Hell, fuck me, you may look like a jock, but you got the silky throat of a fucking hooker." I tilted my chin up, and more of his fat Officer cock slipped into my craw. I worked him steadily now, building up like Holt taught me. I watched his hairy groin get closer as his fat dick stretched the back entrance of my throat. It slid into my esophagus with a bit of effort, making my nose mash into his pubes and my chin press against his balls. I took him all the way, savoring a small victory, then tried to focus more on the bobbing movements. The Admiral gripped my head, aiding me as I rocked my face back and forth, my jaw pulsing as I tried to suck him the best I could with my mouth and throat. "Jesus Christ, you fucking slut," he said through clenched teeth. His words stung, and I almost told him to go easy on the demeaning stuff. Maybe I didn't know what I wanted. I did take a break, though. I rocked my head back, feeling the blunt head slide out of my throat. That dick cleared my spit-wet lips and I sucked in a heavy breath and swallowed the excess saliva. I wrapped my fingers back around his heavy shaft the best I could and gave soft licks to the underside. Finally, the high-ranking officer stepped back, pulling his dick from my hands and lips. It was hot to see his heavy ball sac sway an inch below his hard staff. "Get up on the bed. On your back," he commanded. I complied, getting up off my knees and crawling onto the large hotel bed. I started lying down in a normal fashion, but he quickly gripped my bicep and tugged at my arm as he stepped up to the bed's edge. "No, pup, the other way, face at the edge here," he said, tapping the mattress with his other hand. I got what he was after and laid back, my head leaning backward, hanging off the bed. Holt had coached me in this position, but now that a dominant man like Henson was about to fuck my mouth, I just hoped I could manage it. "Good boy," he said and stepped up to my face. His thick legs straddled my head, my vision now blocked from looking up at him. As his balls swayed over my forehead, my nostrils filled with his musk before he placed his still- wet dick head at my lips once more. "Suck me in...." he growled. I opened my mouth and swallowed his cock head back in between my lips. With my head tilted back, I knew he could see my throat and jaw work and tense as I sucked more of his fat dick into my mouth. I muffled a moan and reached up with my hands, wrapping them around his hard hamstrings through this khakis for support. I sucked more, feeling my mouth stretched to capacity again as the Admiral slowly thrust deeper into my mouth. I gulped before his cock reached the back. A second later, I felt his cock head slip into the entrance of my throat once more. My whole body tensed, my hands gripping his legs as my throat flexed before it was forced to expand around his cock head. "That's it... open up. Yeah." He coached me through this new position, groaning at the new feel of my throat, taking it slow as we worked our way deep - him with his prick, me by relaxing my throat and controlling my breathing. I held down my gag reflex, relaxing as I swallowed his cock in tiny little gulps, taking each inch until I felt his balls nestle on my nose. I had him all the way in. The Admiral groaned with satisfaction as we both felt the new and tight sensation of this new angle. My hands were caressing his thighs and holding myself steady on them as he fed me his cock, repeatedly in nice controlled motions, bottoming out with his balls on my nose before pulling out an inch or two to the edge of throat only to slide back in with a flick of his hips. My eyes watered now, and spit leaked out of the corners of my mouth and streaked down my cheeks. But despite some discomfort, I was hard in the confines of my jock. Finally, he gripped my wrists, pulling them from his thighs and pressed them forward onto the bed, pinning them down. "Let's lose the training wheels, why don't we?" Henson said as he leaned over my head and slid his dick back in. I could feel the bottom of his hard belly on my chin. And then with one brutal shove, his huge cock bored its way back into my gullet, all the way to the base. By reflex, my throat seized tight, and I fought my gagging reaction. "Easy, boy," Henson growled. "Relax." My legs began twisting as I fought to lift my arms up, to pull away or push him off - either one. But he bore down with his massive weight, holding me immobile. "I. SAID. FUCKING. RELAX," he nearly shouted, though it was the staccato manner of his speaking rather than the volume that made his order seem so cutting. It went against every reflex and instinct in my body, but I concentrated and willed myself to relax. I went to my safe space, thinking of Dad at that moment. His dick, even bigger than the Admiral's. I thought of doing this for my father, of letting him take me like this. Before I knew it, I'd calmed down, my body and muscles relaxed. I began breathing heavily through my nose the best I could. The Admiral was now fucking back and forth deep into my throat as he gave me soft assurances in his deep voice. "Good boy. I knew you could do it, pup. Just needed a man to break you in the right way... Oh yeah, your throat feels amazing. Tight cocksucking jock mouth." His mantra became a free association of profanity and compliments. I grew hard again in my jock, once again moaning around his driving fat prick, and stayed hard through the face fucking. I knew I'd used the idea of Dad to get through this sexual ordeal. But rather than feel guilty, I felt horny and excited. Loving that I could transfer the hots for Dad to the Rear Admiral, and back. Two powerful Navy officers - one, the most important man in my life, the other, some married adulterer using me for pleasure in a business hotel room. All of a sudden I felt the weight on my wrists let up and Bill unceremoniously pull his dick out my wrecked throat. When the thick shaft fell from my mouth, I gasped for breath, spit clinging to my lips and cheeks, the clear stands connecting us for a second. He stepped back as I finally got to look up at him. From below, I could see that he was achingly erect, his fat cock looked obscene covered in the thick spit from my throat as it bobbed above my face. He was ready to shoot and his fuzzy nuts were now clinging tightly to the bottom of his beercan shaft. "Why don't you strip?" he grunted, again more of a command than a question. I continued taking deep breaths as I wiped the half-dried tears off my face and leaned up, feeling the blood drain back out of my head. Now sitting on my knees on the bed, I began to peel my shirt off. As I got it over my chest, Bill gripped the thin cotton and helped me pull it the rest of the way off. I took off my socks and sneakers, and then my baseball shorts along with my jock while Bill fetched some lube from somewhere in the dark hotel room. He tossed the small bottle next to me on the bed. "Here, pup, you can pump one out while I fuck your face. I'm almost there." "Yes, sir," I said. Right then, it sounded like the most awesome way to get off. So I slicked up, dowsing my dick and left hand before I leaned back in position, cock in hand. I took a half second to breath in before the Rear Admiral was back in me. No pleasantries, he simply wedged open my jaw, filling my mouth and then my throat in one long thrust. Once again, I felt everything stretch back to capacity, but I felt primed to take it now. I moaned while my esophagus clenched around his fat tool. I began a long stroke with my fist up and down my 8-inch length. The Admiral chuckled and grunted with lust as his hands gripped my straining jaw. Fucking away good and heavy now, his powerful glutes drove that massive cock in rapid fashion past whatever resistance was left in my gullet. "That's it, pup. You're learning. You know that you're just a mouth or hole for me to get off in." At any other moment, those words would have pissed me off. That RDML Henson barked them out when I was fully in heat, made their nastiness cut straight to my balls. I thought of Dad doing this, saying those words. The mere thought went straight to my balls, pushing my sperm up my urethra and had me gushing all over my abs and chest. I felt my torso clench as I grunted around the Admiral's thrusting cock. "Damn," Henson growled, watching me spray my load all over myself. His hips drove his cock into my moaning mouth a bit more violently. He jabbed once, twice, going all the way in before he froze. He let out a deep guttural groan as I felt his cock expand even more, choking me for just a second as he started spurting his cum deep inside me in several quick bursts. As the Admiral came down, he pulled his dribbling cock from my mouth in a surprisingly gradual movement. The sound was wet and slimy as his softening dick cleared my lips. I immediately took a deep breath but also savored the briny taste of Henson's sperm on my tongue. We were both a little sheepish after we came to. Maybe the Rear Admiral was feeling guilty or maybe he just didn't feel chatty after getting his rocks off. He stood back and tossed me a hotel wash towel before he gingerly started removing his buttoned shirt and khaki pants. I wiped off my load from my abs and chest as I got up and found my jock and baseball shorts, putting them back on. I looked up to see him step into the bathroom, and then heard the sink running. I was dressed again as he stepped back out, naked. "Not a word about this to anyone, hear?" Henson admonished as he looked me up and down with a stern expression. He was completely nude, and I had to remark at his body. It wasn't perfect but he looked big and masculine and had a cock to match, even soft. "No, sir," I replied with sincerity. The man used the bathroom to wash off and walked back into the room in just his boxers. He was certainly a big man, bulky all over, but something about him seemed almost kid-like, a contrast with his age, rank, and gruff demeanor. Henson gave me a wan smile and stepped up to run his hand along my cheek. I couldn't help but notice his wedding ring once more. "You're a hot one all right," he said. "You got my number. The ball's in your court when you're ready for more. Just be sure you're ready for it." There was something about the man's edge that scared me a little bit. But I knew I could hold my own with him physically if I really had to. And he had more to lose in this than I did. The sex had been great, but I knew I wanted to stand up to the Admiral's dismissive tone. "There's not going to be a next time," I said simply, looking into his gruff face to challenge him. His eyebrow raised. "Oh there's not, is there?" He was clearly skeptical. "I'm serious." I wanted to turn the officer's nonchalance back on him. "I don't like men who don't respect me." "Is that right?" he laughed. Now it wasn't a skeptical reaction, but amusement. I think he was even a little impressed, too. "You been talking to Lieutenant Commander Grant?" "No, why?" I asked, not sure what he was suggesting. "He said pretty much the same thing." I laughed under my breath. "Yeah?" He nodded. "About a month ago." "Well... Good for him." I thought Henson would be pissed off by the conversation, but he got dressed without seeming that bothered. Jack and I were his side release, not something to get worked up over. Maybe he had other guys, too. I don't know. I had no doubt he would find someone else. Henson walked towards the door but gave me one last look before he left. "If you're on the level about this being the last time, it's a shame. You're a good fuck, kid." I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a return compliment, but I couldn't help myself. "You, too, Admiral." His stern expression cracked a wry smile. He opened the door, and was off without another word. The door shut, the room quiet as I stood alone in the dark for a second. I walked over to pick my cap off the desk. I placed it back on my head and made sure I had everything. Then I left the now empty room. I felt happy. Proud for standing up for myself, but also proud of Jack Grant. I always looked up to Jack, and he had been a kind of mentor to me since the beginning of my sexual awakening. But I gained an extra respect for him that night.