Date: Thu, 10 Jun 2021 23:43:35 +0000 (UTC)
From: Mac Gargan <garogora@aol.com>
Subject: "The Marine From Sin City" Part SIx "Gay/Military"

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This story, like the other I've submitted to Nifty, is true, though names
have been changed and identifying details omitted. If you have any
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- - - - - - -

My life actually became pretty stable over the next few months. No big
changes to speak of. I saved money for a car, I fucked Cash three to five
times a week, and I still found the time - and the desire - to seek out sex
with other men.

A few of those men became my "regulars". I didn't count Cash among this
number; he was more like a toy than anything else. Nor did I count Danny,
with whom my dalliances became increasingly irregular.

The first regular was the other man who had responded to my post when Cash
did. He was very secretive, disinclined to give me any indication of who he
was or what he looked like beyond a barebones description: tall, white,
hung.

I was intrigued, though. He was a Marine, and the chances of him being
unattractive were no worse than with civilians, though he was significantly
more likely to be in great shape.

When he arrived at my barracks room during my lunch break that day, I could
tell there was something urgent behind that secretive behavior. His anxiety
was far beyond the normal "I've never had a dude suck my cock" skittishness
I normally got from straight Marines.

He was tall, and white, and hung, as he had promised. He showed up to my
door in boots and utes, and the first thing I noticed about him was that he
wasn't just in shape, he put me to shame. His biceps were huge. As he
walked in past me, I could make out the lines of the muscles in his back
through his olive drab skivvy shirt. The second thing I noticed was that
he, like Noah, was a ginger. His high and tight was so high and so tight,
the word that crossed my mind was "moto", a term that usually describes the
gung-ho attitude of Marines who have only recently joined, shortened from
"motivation". For other reasons I was about to gather, he was obviously not
a new join, which further enhanced my idea of why he was so guarded.

The third thing that caught my eye was his belt. In combat utilities,
Marines wear a colored belt based on their progression through the Marine
Corps Martial Arts Program. (Imagine MMA, if the goal was to fight dirty
and kill the other guy.) His belt was black with a red tab. I had only seen
a Black MCMAP belt with a red tab on charts. They were the guys who taught
the MCMAP instructors. It occurred to me that, even among Marines, he could
probably kill me with minimal effort. That did not make me less turned on.

The fourth important detail was that, in addition to having taken off his
blouse before coming in (which meant no rank insignia, nor the name tapes
on his chest) he had removed the name tape from his trousers. He seriously
did not want me knowing his name.

The last major detail I noticed was that he was covered in tattoos. At the
time, the tattoo policy of the Corps held that if a tattoo would be exposed
when the Marine wore PT gear - a skivvy shirt and shorts so short some of
the guys I knew had to wear compression shorts under them so their dicks
didn't flop out - then the tattoos had to be small enough to individually
cover with a hand. This dude could only cover his individual tattoos with
sweats. That told me, in addition to the belt, that he had been in the
service for years - long enough to have been around before the tattoo
policy had changed, and long enough to become a blackbelt instructor
trainer.

He pulled his shirt off while my gaze shifted from his arms, to his belt,
back to his arms. "Well?" he asked, undoing his belt.

I rushed over and got to my knees. He was totally soft, but definitely a
show-er, not a grower. It hung heavy when I pulled his trousers down to
reveal he wasn't wearing underwear. He was completely shaven, something I
had only seen before on Terry. His dick was bigger than Terry's. He was
easily equal to Rick in girth, and possibly longer.

He looked on impassively as I swallowed his soft cock to the hilt, holding
it there while he stiffened up. I pulled off, exposing his saliva-slicked
shaft to the cool air of my barracks room, then dove back down on it
again. He looked appropriately surprised when my lips reached the faintly
stubbly surface of his pubis.

I gagged, almost retched. He was definitely bigger than Rick. I hadn't
involuntarily gagged on a dick since I was twelve years old. He wasn't even
fully hard yet. It was my turn to look surprised.

I was able to deepthroat him without gagging after about thirty minutes. He
was starting to get anxious again, checking his watch occasionally. When I
pulled off for air, I said, "I don't have to be back to work until thirteen
hundred... sir."

He didn't seem to notice the honorific. That confirmed one of my
suspicions: he was an officer. An enlisted Marine would have cringed at
being called "sir". The tattoos, though, were not officer standard.

He just nodded and said, "Wish I could keep this up that long. You got me
right at the edge." I went back to my work. He screwed his eyes shut as if
focusing on holding back. "You swallow?"

It's hard to talk with a mouthful of cock, especially when the dick in
question is upwards of nine inches and thick enough to split the cardboard
roll at the center of a toilet paper roll, but somehow he understood the
enthusiastic "Yes, sir!" I tried to utter without letting him out of my
mouth again.

With no more warning than that, he stopped holding back.

Unlike my first time with Rick, none of his juice escaped. I swallowed on
instinct until I was sure I could hold the remainder in my mouth. When that
proved untrue, I swallowed again, then moments later, a third time. I could
keep more cum in my mouth if I let him slip further out, but fuck, I did
not want him to ever leave my mouth if I could have that.

He started to soften, but he seemed perfectly content to let me continue
sucking, licking, and kissing him until his cock was totally soft, shiny,
and red. His balls, which had hung heavily away from his body prior to the
blowjob, were now clinging closer to his body after having been exposed to
my thoroughly air-conditioned room. Even when I had to take my mouth off
him, only him shoving his massive cock unceremoniously into his trousers
made me take my eyes off him. I looked up to his blue eyes. He looked
satisfied, but bemused.

"You a top or bottom?" he asked.

I answered, "Top," with a little squeak. There was no way his massive meat
was going into my ass. He'd fuck me in half.

He grabbed the front of my trousers, where I had a noticeable bulge. "Show
me. I can't stay to take care of it, though," he said, sounding suddenly
embarrassed.

I did as he asked. He felt my balls, ran his fingers through my pubes,
squeezed from base to tip, then back to the base, smearing my own precum
all over me. "Cool, won't even need lube," he muttered. I blinked at
that. He let go, licking the precum off his hand before tucking his shirt
tightly into his trousers. "Friday at lunch sound good?" he asked.

I confirmed that it did before watching the Marine leave. I immediately
jerked off, then licked my hands clean of the evidence of that activity
before piecing his secret together: he was prior enlisted, which is why he
got so many tattoos when officers were discouraged from getting them. Then
he had earned a commission and gone officer. I watched from my window as he
walked out into the parking lot and lowered himself into a gorgeous red
convertible BMW. I was reasonably certain it wasn't something an enlisted
Marine could easily afford.

The other regular was initially a bit less impressive to behold, though he
turned out to be packing even more than Prior Enlisted.

The only identifier I had for him was that his name was Daniel, which
reminded me of Danny, who I was still seeing on occasion. Daniel sent me
few face and body pics. He was clearly a big guy, but he was also clearly
not the type to get his workouts at the gym. I had no doubt he was strong,
but he carried more than just muscle around. He worked a night shift as air
crew with one of the squadrons, which explained why he looked like he
hadn't had a good night's sleep in months. The night crews not only worked
at night, but they were expected to be awake and present for any formations
or other unit events, even though those normally occurred during the time
they should have been asleep.

I wasn't discriminatory about him not having visible abs. I was far more
interested in his dick, which he hadn't sent photos of, but which he had
described as "seriously huge". We arranged for him to come over on his
lunch break that night, around 2330.

As it turned out, he wasn't joking. When he pulled it out, already half
hard, I asked numbly, "Have you ever measured it?"

He laughed. "How could I have a dick this big -" he slapped it against his
own thigh, loudly enough to echo in my barracks room - "and not measure it?
Eleven inches. Seven and a half around." I believed it. Half-hard, he was
bigger than Prior Enlisted.

I don't really need to describe the process of sucking dick to you twice in
one chapter. Let's just say I couldn't fit it all - period - but that he
was surprised how much I managed. He came much more quickly than Prior
Enlisted did, was effusive in his praise, and most assuredly did not offer
to let me fuck him. We both looked forward to the next time I would try to
deepthroat him again.

"Horny" was the most accurate word to describe me on any given day during
this period of my life. I jerked off two or three times per day, fucked an
ass every night of the week and sometimes a couple during the day (such as
Prior Enlisted when our lunch breaks could line up, or Danny on the
weekends that he could host at his new place after moving out of Noah's),
and sucking as many dicks as I could, sometimes as many as three a
night. These were mostly straight Marines I had found on Craigslist, the
then-new hookup app Grindr, or who had received my contact info from other
straight Marines who I had serviced. I still never felt satisfied, because
none of them brought me closer to the man I actually wanted.

"Frustrated" was a close second, though that only applied at work, where
Corporal Cash continued his efforts to make me miserable, going so far as
to show overt favoritism to Sanford. I knew he was doing it out of a
desperate attempt not to give any indication of our sexual relationship,
which he could not get enough of, but his behavior drew raised eyebrows
anyways. I worked off the frustration by pounding him into prostate-orgasm
bliss on nights that I literally could not find anyone else. It was to my
shame that I had to turn to him more often than not.

It was as summer began to fade into fall that change reared its ugly
head. With Cash back in the shop, we were considered to be overstaffed, and
the unit wanted to send two of our Marines away so we could bring in one
new guy and be considered fully staffed. The Marines to be sent away were
Lance Corporal Sanford and Sergeant Jackson.

Without delay, they joined a provisional unit that was training to deploy
as a support unit to Bahrain. The bright side of the training period was
that they didn't get shipped off right away, and even kept their barracks
rooms. I was hanging out with Adam pretty much whenever I wasn't hooking
up. I was excited for his upcoming deployment, because he was, even though
I wished I was going with him instead of Sanford. It did occur to me that
with him being part of a different unit, there was significantly less
likelihood of him being punished for fraternization if we did start a
relationship. It was wishful thinking only encouraged by some of the little
good news I had that summer.

Corporal Cash happily confided in me, one evening after I had spent the
previous hour holding him facedown on his bed while wrecking his ass, that
while he had been sent home from his own deployment for being in violation
of DADT, his JAG lawyer had informed him that day that due to DADT being
struck down by the end of September, his case was no longer going to be
prosecuted. Just like that, he no longer had the specter of a dishonorable
discharge hanging over his head.

Or, rather, the shape of that specter of dishonorable discharge had changed
from the video he had kept of himself sucking some Iraqi man's cock to me
plowing his ass. He hinted that since he wasn't going to be discharged, he
intended to remain in the Corps for as long as they'd have him. A
careerist.

I shrugged in response to that while getting dressed. "Congrats. You might
want to keep that load in you as long as you can, then."

He looked up from his bed, his eyes still slightly unfocused from his
intense orgasm. "Why?"

"Because," I said, slapping his ass hard enough to leave a white handprint
surrounded by red, "it's the last one I'm giving you."

It was the ideal solution. For one thing, the lack of a sexual relationship
meant he'd no longer need to mistreat me at work to present the facade that
he wasn't showing me favoritism. For another, I would be forced to find
people I was actually attracted to for sex instead of relying on someone I
rather intensely disliked. Additionally, he would no longer have to worry
about anyone finding out about our relationship.

I finished dressing, then went into my phone and searched up the emails we
had exchanged. I highlighted them, showed him, and deleted them. "Delete
your copies of those emails. None of this ever happened."

I walked out of the room, leaving him confused, hurt, sore, and deeply
satisfied.

In August, I finally bought a car, a huge black Chrysler sedan that most
Marines referred to as "a boat" or "that big-ass granny car". It got
respectable mileage and could fit six people comfortably. Given that I
didn't drink, I made bank ferrying Marines to and from bars in Ocean
Beach. While they barhopped, I was using Grindr to find civilian guys to
fuck in the area, opening up a whole new market for me. Being the
designated driver twice a month made me enough money to cover gas, my
monthly payment, and insurance. I DD'd every Friday and Saturday night that
someone asked, turning a pretty huge profit.

In September, we learned that Adam and Sanford were leaving for Bahrain at
the beginning of October, so we planned the trip to Vegas that Sanford and
I had talked about at New Year's. I had done a pretty terrible job of
keeping in touch with my parents, so when I called my stepmom to let them
know I'd be in town the last week of September, she shared some news of her
own with me.

She had gotten a job managing a motel near the Strip, so she and Dad had
moved out of the house and taken up residence at the motel. While I was, at
first, dismayed that they were living in a motel room and that there
wouldn't be room for three grown men to stay over, she quickly offered me a
free room with two beds and a couch so the three of us still had somewhere
to sleep for free. I accepted, realizing how much Adam and Sanford would
enjoy being closer to the Strip.

We drove out after work ended on the 23rd of September, a Friday. We had
all taken a week's worth of leave. It was actually something of a
requirement for Adam and Sanford, since they were preparing to deploy and
were heavily encouraged to let off steam and enjoy themselves to boost
morale prior to the departure. I took the leave - my first since the
Christmas holidays the previous year - to match theirs. It was a fun week
of hitting the casinos, shows, and tourist attractions during the day and
driving Adam and Sanford to bars at night. I wasn't old enough to gamble,
but after two days without a shave, attendants in a dimly lit casino would
easily mistake me for being five to ten years older than I was. I didn't
buy any drinks (I knew casino policy on alcohol was to card aggressively)
and stuck to machines that paid in and out in coins.

After dropping them off at the various clubs they wanted to check out, I
actually spent the rest of that evenings with my parents. It was quiet, it
was relaxing, and it was easily the least toxic interactions I had ever had
with them. My dad and I cooked dinner. We all ate and watched movies.

On our last night there, my parents were winding down for the night when I
got a text from Adam around 11 that he and Sanford were going to hit
another club before they were done for the night, so I excused myself and
went to take a short nap so I wouldn't be worn out when they called in two
or three hours to get me to pick them up.

I woke up with the two of them entering our room, too drunk to remember to
be quiet. I hadn't been expecting them back without me to drive them, so I
had stripped naked before crawling into bed. Sanford was too drunk to
notice as he stumbled off to the bathroom to piss with the door open, but
Adam got a good look and didn't seem to hate what he saw. I pulled on a
pair of gym shorts, just to be safe. They didn't really hide anything, but
they gave us plausible deniability if Sanford was more coherent when he
finished pissing.

As I pulled on the shorts, Adam said, "We figured we'd let you sleep. The
last club we stopped at was only a couple blocks away. Cheap cab." He
unbuttoned the collared shirt he'd gone clubbing in, revealing a white tee
underneath.

I nodded. "Thanks. Sorry for..." I gestured at myself. "Figured you guys
would call and I could get dressed before going to get you.

He shrugged. "It's cool. I usually sleep naked too."

I chuckled, stretching my back so that it cracked. "Not surprised the
serial freeballer sleeps naked."

A smile played at his lips. "What would you know about how often I
freeball?"

"Every time you wear shorts," I said. "Or any pants that aren't a loose
fit. If I hadn't seen firsthand that you're circumcised, I'd have guessed."

Adam gave no response to that but another chuckle as Sanford stumbled out
of the bathroom, mumbling, "'M goin' t'bed."

Adam went into the bathroom next, carrying a pair of gym shorts. I could
hear how loudly he was pissing even though he closed the door. I went back
to bed and tried to ignore it. When he came back out in his white
undershirt and gym shorts, Sanford was already snoring. He started trying
to plump up the cushions on the couch, a lost cause if I ever saw one.

Rather than lie in bed and listen to him struggle to make the couch
comfortable, I got up. "I'll sleep on the couch," I said. "You should take
the bed."

"No," he said, giving me an incredulous look. "You're driving tomorrow, you
need sleep."

I rolled my eyes. Then I said, "Fine, we'll share the bed." It was a twin,
but he was smaller than the average Marine and I was a fair bit less bulky
than the average adult American man despite my build.

He nodded silently at that. I lay back down, but scooted toward the right
side of the bed in compromise.

He stripped off his shirt, but left the gym shorts on before crawling up
the foot of the bed on the left side. When he sank onto the pillow, the
scent of clean sweat, whiskey, and woodsy deodorant washed over me. I
couldn't help taking a deep breath, which Adam noticed. It was frankly a
far cry from the scent I was used to getting off of him, which was that of
cigarette smoke. I realized I hadn't seen him smoke in a long time. I
hadn't even noticed when he quit.

The physical contact between us was tearing me apart. I couldn't get any
closer to sleep feeling his chest hair tickling at my bicep. He shifted and
settled in, and my stomach did a flip when I realized that one of his
large, darker pink nipples was firmly pressed against my arm.

I kept my eyes closed and took slow, steady breaths to simulate sleep. Fake
it 'til you make it.

He shifted again. His right arm went under the pillow. Under my head. His
right leg was firmly in contact with my left.

He was breathing slowly and deeply, too. Had he fallen asleep? Was he
faking like I was? I couldn't know without opening my eyes, but that would
ruin the illusion.

I was actually starting to feel sleep calling when he shifted again,
sighed. A loud, short exhale through the nose, like when someone gets a
funny text and replies "lol" without actually laughing. Then I felt him
stroke my bicep once.

"I can't sleep," he whispered, barely audible over Sanford's snores. "And I
know you can't either."

I considered pretending to still be asleep, but curiosity got me. "How'd
you know I'm awake?"

"Because of this," he answered, running his hand up the length of my erect
dick.

I cringed. I had been so aware of every part of him pressed up against me
that I just hadn't realized I was hard.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Me too." He reached for my hand and guided it
down to his own erection. I gave it a squeeze before cringing away from
that, too.

"You're drunk," I whispered sharply.

"I stopped drinking an hour before Sanford did and switched to water," he
answered. "I'm sober enough to consent."

I couldn't have this conversation looking away from him. I rolled over so
that we were eye-to-eye. This had the (un?)fortunate side effect of making
my cock slap right into his. He reached for it again. I pushed his hand
away.

"Come on, Ryan," he whispered. "I know you want this as bad as I do." His
eyes were clear, focused. I didn't stop him when he reached for my dick
again. "Fuck, you definitely want this. You're getting so wet for me."

I gasped when he reached his hand into the waistband of my shorts to feel
the font of precum directly as it bubbled up.

"How - how long?" I asked.

"How long since I wanted it? Or how long since I knew you did?" I nodded at
the second one while he smeared precum up and down my shaft.

"Since that time I came over to your room just after some dude left it. You
were wearing these tight little blue gym shorts. You were soft when you
answered the door, but started getting hard when you realized it was me,"
he breathed. "I half thought you shot your load when you saw me. Realized
when we got back to my room that it was just precum." He slipped my shorts
down a bit and got a good look at the dick he was stroking.

"And you?" I asked.

"Same answer," he said, before sitting up and bending over to start sucking
my cock.

Those fucking lips.

I learned things about sucking dick with those lips on me. I hadn't learned
a remotely new technique since deepthroating. His mouth on my cock was as
tight, warm, and wet as any ass I'd ever fucked. Those lips were squeezing,
relenting, squeezing again on different parts of my cock as he went up and
down. He never quite took me all, but that wasn't his technique.

I lay flat and pulled his shorts down, too. He was leaking, though not
nearly as much as I was. He kicked his shorts off entirely as I pulled him
into a position that allowed me to suck him, too.

He tasted better than I'd imagined. I'd never really noticed huge
differences in taste in precum, and only noticed a difference in the taste
of a guy's dick if he hadn't washed it recently, but for some reason, my
brain decided that sucking Adam's cock tasted like the first ray of warm
sunshine after a long, cold winter. I was almost heartbroken when he
adjusted his smaller body to suck my dick better and I found that his dick
was out of my reach.

And then I realized that his ass was in the perfect position for eating.

His glutes were nice and muscled, but there was just enough fat there to
make the twin globes round rather than flat squares. His cheeks and crack
were resplendent with golden hairs. I didn't think twice about burying my
face between those cheeks and working my tongue against, and into, his
hole. He deepthroated me for the first time as my tongue dug its way into
his hole, though I'm pretty sure it was accidental; he just happened to
gasp in pleasure while as deep as he could go otherwise. He came up gasping
for air so loudly that I was surprised Sanford didn't wake up. I spared a
glance but didn't separate my mouth from Adam's ass.

Adam took my cock a few more times before coming up for air and prying my
hands from his warm, hairy thighs and spinning around while still
straddling me. "I'm glad I do have some alcohol in me," he admitted. "I've
never taken one as big as yours before."

He reached back to guide me to his hole. I could tell how wet my cock was
when his relatively dry hand touched it, and I could tell by the rapidly
cooling saliva on my face that his ass must be just as wet. He lowered
himself slowly. I felt the head pop in. A fresh surge of precum came out of
me. He looked down and opened his mouth to ask. I cut him off. "Just
precum. I don't cum that easily." He accepted the answer and lifted himself
slightly. I could feel the lips of his hole catch on the ridge of my
cockhead. More precum. He lowered himself further.

He got about two inches in before stopping and changing direction
again. This time, when I spurted precum into him, he began dribbling it
onto me. I reached down and started stroking his cock, using his precum as
lube. He moaned and sat further down than before, taking at least half of
me. He opened his mouth in what might have been a shout of pain as he went
too far, but he shoved his free fist into his mouth to avoid making noise.

He held his position for another few seconds, then slowly lowered
himself. Slowly raised. Slowly lowered further. I was glad for the stamina
I had built up. There was a time when fucking a guy this slowly for this
long would have had me counting down to orgasm.

When I felt his ass hair on my balls, I summoned the strength to stand -
which caused him to gasp and wrap his arms around me, pressing our chests
together - then laid him back down in the missionary position without
removing myself from him. We made out while I continued fucking him,
raising my speed slowly and steadily as his reaction became more
overwhelmingly positive.

The rought blankets, the firm bed, the musty room - it all vanished.

The only thing I could feel was Adam. His chest against mine, his arms
around me, his jawline against my lips, his left asscheek in my right hand,
his neck in my left, his cock leaking against my abs. More than anything,
his endless warmth pulling me in inch by inch. I would withdraw, only for
him to pull me back in. I wasn't fucking him. We were just connecting.

The only thing I could see was Adam. His blue eyes. His short blond
high-and-tight. His full, gorgeous lips. His muscled torso and biceps. His
taut thighs. The downy golden hair covering his chest, arms, and legs. And
when I looked down, the line of his thick, veined cock guiding my eye to
the place where we were joined.

The only thing I could hear was Adam. His short, sharp gasps of breath. His
moans of pleasure. The rasp of his body hair as it rubbed against me,
everywhere from our chests to the hair around his ass rasping against the
erection filling him.

All I could smell or taste? You bet your ass it was Adam. I could faintly
taste the whiskey still on his breath, but otherwise his tongue tasted of
my own precum. He smelled, as I mentioned before, of clean sweat, whiskey,
piney deodorant. The smell of precum also ingratiated itself.

The sunrise broke me out of that state of utter connection before I
realized I wasn't going to last much longer. By then, Adam didn't even have
the voice left to moan. The contractions that wracked his body every time I
thrust came out of him as a strained breath. He kept his eyes tight shut,
nodding his continued approval.

I whispered, "You're gonna make me cum soon."

He sucked in a deep breath and croaked, "Thank fuck," before devolving into
a wheezy laugh. After another gulp of breath, he whispered, "Jesus, Ryan,
I'm so close too."

I slowed down drastically. He let out a noise somewhere between a whine and
a grunt. I kissed him as I kept my slow pace going. He returned the kiss
enthusiastically, one hand traveling up and down the muscles of my back
while the other grasped at the back of my head. I could feel his thighs
pinning mine between them. His calves crossed over my ass as he pulled me
in as deeply as I could go.

He lost control first. I only know that because I felt him contract around
me before I also lost control. It was a photo-finish. I kept slowly
withdrawing only to be pulled back in. I wasn't getting soft enough to just
fall out, and he was still contracting so much it just pulled me back in.

His own cum painted his chest. One shot landed on his chin. I bent down to
lick it up, only to realize the next two shots landed on my own chin. We
laughed. He licked the cum off my chin and we kissed again, sharing the
taste of him. Mellow, sweet. Almost buttery. I loved it. I bent as much as
I could to lick it off his chest. This was heaven.

I lifted his leg so that I could flop myself down around it to lie next to
him. He moaned again. His dick twitched as I spun around, causing another
small gob of cum to leak out of him. He swiped it up and fed it to me
directly. I sucked his fingers clean.

We stayed there until we had both caught our breath. By that time, he had
relaxed enough that my half-hard dick finally came out of him, coated in
cum. He didn't hesitate to suck it clean, which was a little torturous on
my sensitive head. I scooped him up and carried him to the
bathroom. Sanford was still snoring.

We giggled with exhaustion and adrenaline as we washed cum out of one
another's body hair, kissing each other on whatever body part was closest
whenever the urge struck.

After toweling off, we stumbled back to bed, slipped our shorts back on.

We slept in until about 1300. Sanford finally woke us up to remind us that
we did have to get back to base before midnight. He didn't question why we
were in bed together, why we were wearing only gym shorts, why we were
sleeping arm in arm, why Adam had one of his legs between mine.

As we lay there, slowly coming awake, while Sanford packed his bags in my
car, I whispered, "I wish we could wake up like this every morning."

Adam ground his morning wood into me. "What, sore and ready to go again?"

I chuckled. "Sure. Sanford might notice though."

All the tension went out of us as we took a deep breath together. The room
reeked of sex. There was no way Sanford hadn't already noticed that. He
didn't seem bothered, though. And the consequences were considerably less
than they might have been, considering that we were no longer in the same
unit, and the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell had been made official over a
week prior.

"We have to get up and face reality eventually," Adam said, disappointed.

"Yeah," I agreed.  "I wish I could marry you."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Same. In a heartbeat."

I kissed him again. It lasted about ten seconds, then we just settled into
each other again. We stayed that way until Sanford came back a few minutes
later, when we finally extracted ourselves from our mutual embrace.