This is a very long-in-coming (not like that!) conclusion to my chronicle of my time posted on O'ahu. I could easily obfuscate and say that the reason I've put this off, put off continuing and finishing this series, is that my work has been busy; or I could more credibly say that the works of my fellow writers' postings on GayDemon have kept me busy and enrapt, reading their HOT stories instead of finishing the writing of my own tale of that particular part of my life here from my journal entries. But Marines can't lie - were just not wired that way - so I can't claim either of those as any significant factor in my impediment, though both conditions are true enough irrespective to impact on my writing. No, plain and simple, It's been very difficult for me to relive those final days before I left O'ahu . . . for the same reason that it was unexpectedly emotional when I returned with my new husband to the last posting I had before our country was attacked on September 11, 2001. When I was PCS'd to the Pentagon from Kaneohe, it was September 4, 2001. I not only left an idyllic place, but I left all pretense of my country's security back there on O'ahu. I left the first place I'd ever lived that I loved . . . and I faced the brutal fact that the country I loved was hated by our enemies.
Marines aren't much for wallowing in self-pity, so after a month of just laying this aside and finding any number of reasons to ignore it, I'm JUST DOING IT (sorry, Nike!). I hope you enjoy the reading of this last chapter of my sexploits in Kaneohe as you have my prior installments. - Bill Cate
From Part 12
I FUCKED him even harder, drove it into him, DRILLED his fuckchute until I felt that jolt go to a burn and worked it into the start of my own explosion. And just as I did, I felt him go stiff again and start yelling, "OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK!" and then erupt into spasms in his fuckchannel that pulled me from a slow burn to a seismically significant blast that had me yelling as it rocketed through my long cock and traveled deep into his guts.
"UUUUUUUUUUU RRRRRRRRRRRM MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM PPPPPPPPPPP HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I cried until it just overtook me and all there was for me was the pumping and draining.
"HOLY FUCKING FUCK, BATMAN!" Dave cried out suddenly, startling me back to reality. "DUDE! You're one MAJOR fuckmachine!" he gushed, still face-down on across the counter.
"Thanks," I mumbled self-consciously, pulling myself out of him as gently as I could.
"YYYYYYY AAAAAAAAAA WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW FFFFUUUU CCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!" he hissed, particularly when my fat cockhead plopped free with an audible pop and a decent amount of my seed plopped out with it, splatting on the floor with a veritable puddle that he'd spewed during two apparently-heavy drainings himself.
"Sorry, bud," I apologized, walking away and helping myself to a paper towel to wipe my cum-slimey cock clean.
"Awwww, man - you denied me the best part," he grinned lasciviously, licking his lips as he watched me wipe myself. I just finished and then crumpled the paper towel and sort of looked about helplessly. "Just pitch it on the counter - I'll take care of it," he said, with obvious dejection.
As I struggled to stuff my still half-hard cock back into my jock strap and get my shorts leg down over the bulge, it was uncomfortable, as if a loud clock was ticking. Dave knew it, felt it - it was evident in his last statement. And his next.
"Just my luck - the Iron Man of fucking shows me what fuck-heaven is, and he's not into me."
I looked across at him, handsome, sweaty, furry and HOT, knowing I had no obligation because this was just a hookup, but feeling like a shit, too, because all I wanted to do was to get the fuck out of there. "For what it's worth, Dave, you're an AMAZING fuck."
"Just not your type of amazing fuck?" he finished.
"Thanks for a better afternoon than I'd intended having," I said, meaning it, heading for his door.
"See you on base - I hope - next time I have a delivery?"
I smiled, thinking it would be unlikely.
As I drove back past the airport I saw a jet taking off in the distance. I wondered if Greg's plane had landed yet. As I drove I realized I had no idea where he'd even flown off to.
Part 13 - Countdown in Kaneohe
I came to abruptly the next morning, instantly aware of two things. I was being held tight against a hardbodied naked someone behind me in a bed - my bed, as I quickly scanned the room. That NEVER happened - nobody had ever slept with me in my bed . . . and the only time I slept anywhere else was on a mission or if I was detailed at work on base and crashed in the BOQ. The other thing I had been immediately aware of when I awoke was the stench of stale beer and mansex in the room, along with the beer hangover pounding my head. Apparently neither of us - if there were only two - had thought to open a window.
"Easy there, marine," I heard low and gentle behind my head. I recognized the voice of my frequent fuckbud Corporal Michael Daniels - wait, Sergeant Daniels now . . . my head really was cloudy from overdoing the beer.
His grip on me tightened. One hand over my side was firmly holding my balls. The other was flat against my left pec, holding me tight, the length of us together, my back to his front. His morning hardon - I noticed it was very early morning, just after dawn, when I had scanned the room to ascertain my whereabouts - was hard against my tailbone and lower back.
I relaxed from the tensed posture I'd assumed when I first awoke; but I was in no way relaxed. This - waking up in my own bed with someone, and indeed a someone I'd kept at cock's length for all this time - was not what I was used to or within my wheelhouse to deal with.
"Uh, morning," I grumbled. "Gotta piss," I added, still not making a move, waiting for him to relax his hold.
Daniels' hands and arms freed me instantly, though he licked up my neck from between my shoulder blades before he fell back onto the bed. I saw when I was up and headed to the bathroom that his cock was as ready as ever, pointing skyward, a shimmer of precum on his helmut head from the burgeoning daylight through the windows.
I took the opportunity in the bathroom during my typically long piss to try and grasp the events of the evening before. Oh, right, it finally came to me as I shook the last drops of my strong morning piss off.
I'd left Dave the deliveryman's apartment after fucking him senseless enough to express some desire to get to know me. Basically I fled his apartment. My mind was in a spin for a number of reasons, and that was just a tiny topper.
I'd returned from a nasty several-week mission, had been vigorously debriefed - almost as nasty as the mission itself - and had returned to Kaneohe a few days ago. I was down but happy to be home, or at least the first place I'd felt like I was home since I left my childhood home for the Academy over fifteen years before.
My return home had been a fondly received one, with numerous of my fuckbuds - Daniels first - that first afternoon through the following morning showing their appreciation for me having returned. I found out my CO had ordered me on leave for the remainder of the week to decompress, and that first morning of being home, I found myself too alone with my thoughts.
I'd taken my bike and drove my truck over to Waikiki, to a resort on the beach where I "knew" one of the guys managing the pool and beach activities, and then ended up spending several days with a HOT businessman, Greg from I-had-no-idea-where. We both played it like it wasn't going to end, knowing full well that it was just a few days and would. And I let myself go in the luxury of the intimacy and comfort of him . . . until he left.
A few other diversions - one major one last night apparently - around a meeting with my CO, who was complimentary, congratulatory and told me I was going to be promoted and reposted to the Pentagon within a week or so as a result of that last mission and having caught the eye of a very important man with a lot of stars on his uniform. It was supposed to be a great day in the career of a life-long marine. I was finishing up the week's leave the CO had granted me, despite my wish to return to duty after Greg left. Even the romp with the young and insatiable Dave the deliveryman hadn't helped my slide into my own head and my sorrows.
I'd lost several brothers in that mission, and I mourned each of them deeply. I also would have traded places with any of them gladly. That was both respect and honor and also self-pity of a magnitude I'd never experienced before. It could be that the caustic and thorough debriefing accentuated my already- regretful feelings. Or it could be that I was just getting old - too old - and sentimental for the first time in my life.
A marine neither expects nor aspires to comfort. Kaneohe had been so comfortable that it had seduced me into thinking it was my reality, when it was only a passing dream . . . like Greg. I'd been ecstatic to be assigned to the interbranch - including the alphabet non-military - special ops mission because I'd been out of action for so long. But maybe I had been under-matched . . . stale . . . out of date for that type of mental strain, despite my physical and tactical competence. The mission had been a huge success . . . except for my fallen brothers and their loved ones.
After I'd returned to my apartment and had taken my umpteenth shower of the day to wash myself clean of mansex, I was suddenly at a stop. When my doorbell thunked - I didn't exactly live in a well-heeled building - I'd realized I'd been standing, looking out my balcony sliders at nothing for some time.
Daniels - still in uniform - had been at my door with a 24-pack of Miller hanging from his big right paw, smiling a sad smile. He'd told me that he'd heard about the upcoming PCS and my promotion in rank, and he'd heartily congratulated me . . . but we both knew he was sorry to see me go, leaving unsaid things that were obvious . . . and uncomfortable for him, off-limits by my rules.
He'd been given the weekend as leave, too. Daniels is our CO's driver, at least temporarily, and the CO was off for a weekend with his beautiful, comely, younger wife. Our CO knew we were good friends - he may have known there was another dimension to it, too, being the smart, realistic and compassionate modern man he was - and had told Daniels about my upcoming changes himself. A set-up? Perhaps . . .
"So . . . Can I come in?" Daniels had asked awkwardly, standing in front of my door, his initial sexy, mischievous grin having gone to uncertainly as I stood squarely in the doorway, blocking his entry.
I'd thought about it. I'd thought about the damnable weaknesses I'd allowed myself to succumb to - a man I'd never see again and a love of a location I'd lived in, Hawai'i, notably the island of O'ahu, a posting, inevitably to end. I thought about how insular my life was - except for the partial week with Greg - and how broken I still felt inside over the mission, over the loss of my brothers. And regardless of the way I kept Daniels at arm's length despite his obvious invitation for more, we were brothers . . . and fuckbuddies . . . and we were easy and comfortable with each other, whether fucking or not.
I'd stepped aside wordlessly, but with a grin, and Daniels had come in, kicked off his shoes, opened the twelve-pack of cheap beer and tossed me a can. From there it normalized - two men, beer, testosterone . . . the inevitable.
Halfway through the twenty-four pack, we'd ordered pizza, near 2300. And, as I knew would be the case, my favorite young, studly piss-pig Karl was the deliveryman, and he was off work after our delivery, and he was horny for a rematch with Daniels . . . and always up for me.
"Ahhhhhhh, nice one, major!" Daniels raved enthusiastically when he saw it was Karl at the door.
Karl was just as enthusiastic. "I guess I should have known from the large pie that he ordered, but finding you here too makes my night times two!" he gushed and walked in with a grin stretched across his cute, tanned face. "You two hungry enough that I've got to wait for you to fuel up to get your cocks or should I put this inside your oven to keep warm?"
"We're starved for both you and the pizza," Daniels answered, and we all laughed.
By the time Karl had got there both Daniels and I were down to our skivvies. Karl, not wanting to be out of place, stripped down, too. But since he had been commando under his board shorts, he was completely naked . . . and had been hard as a light pole since he'd got there.
Karl indulged us while we scarfed down the most of the pizza, even eating a few bites himself, and indulging Daniels' and my half-drunk sports-banter. When Daniels got up to head to the bathroom to piss, Karl was up and on his heels begging for Daniels' pissload, running behind him toward the john. Daniels laughed and flopped his fat, hairy cock out and waved it at Karl, taunting him.
Karl had scrambled around him, got to the bathroom, climbed into the shower and got to his knees, mouth open expectantly looking outward. Of course I was right behind them, eager to spectate.
When Daniels got into the bathroom, he went right to the shower, right up to Karl. I could see in the mirror over the sink, and I saw Daniels pull down the front of his boxers, his cock flopped out, and Karl eagerly sucked it into his mouth. Looking up at Daniels eagerly, full of hunger, I saw his eyes flutter and knew that Daniels had unleashed his piss stream. Then I saw Karl's throat explanding and his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped and guzzled Daniels' pissload, which I knew was tantamount to the proverbial racehorse. I could also see Karl's cock thickening and lengthening in his delight and arousal.
"Hurry it the fuck up, Daniels. I need that piss-pig's fuckhole . . . NOW!" I said.
Karl's eyes darted to me and danced with excitement, one fist pumping in the air. Damn, I love an enthusiastic bitch!
"It doesn't seem like this boy wants to let go of my cock, major! Looks like we'll have to spit roast him," Daniels said over his shoulder to me. I didn't bother snapping at him about using my title in this circumstance like I would have otherwise. Enough beer and a throbbing hardon, and I begin to relax my standards. LOL
I maneuvered around Daniels' hulking shoulders in my small bathroom and then got behind Karl in the shower. Karl, the helpful bitch he is, got his ass up in the air without ever loosing Daniels' cock from his slurping maw.
I realized I hadn't brought any lube, and Karl's cunt is exceptionally tight, despite his slutting. Inspiration came to me in the form of the shampoo - I didn't have enough hair for conditioner - on the shelf to my right. I turned on the shower to a trickle, got my hand full of some water, got a glob of shampoo and created a lather. Then I went to work lubing up Karl's eager fuckhole, him helping by pushing back onto my fingers and gyrating around to get himself good and lubed.
"FUCK! This pig knows how to suck a cock! He's going to suck my nuts dry here any minute," Daniels proclaimed.
I was looking directly at Daniels over the length of Karl's torso stretched between us, and I could see Daniels wasn't kidding about his enjoyment. His big ab muscles and pecs were dancing in response as Karl worked his more sensitive cock muscles, and his head was thrown back in abject abandon.
Knowing I needed to slow Karl's cockwork down a notch, I lined up my huge, flared cockknob at his cuntlips and SHOVED HARD into him. I loved his scream around Daniels' cock and the way his entire body went rigid as I penetrated and stretched his TIGHT fuckchute.
Daniels had jerked his head down to the point of my incursion when he felt Karl's scream around his cock, and he'd taken Karl's head in his hands to steady him. His glazed look down at my cock just a bit of the way inside the pizza boy's tight butt was unwavering, a smile of enjoyment playing on his face. "GOD that's fucking HOT, Bill. Your fucking horsecock is fucking HUGE and this pig's butt is so tiny. Come on, shove it in and give this bitch the fucking he wants."
For his not of encouragement, Karl moaned something like, "MMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM," around Daniels' cock, and he pushed back onto me, taking another inch or two. "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR," followed as he did and I STRETCHED his cuntchannel more the deeper I got.
Well, what the fuck, I thought. I had about four inches in him, so why not shove the other five and a half in and just get on with it. Which is exactly what I did. I took him by his waist and SHOVED, eliciting a long scream of protest from Karl . . . but also when I was all the way in, he pushed back, grinding the last quarter inch of me TIGHT inside him.
"Yeah, there you go," I told him, waiting it out, awaiting the moment his cuntmuscles' clench would loosen just that barely perceptible notch that meant he was ready for me to fuck his brains out.
Just as he'd done many times before, that moment of minute relaxation in his cuntring and fuckchannel came quickly. This time, though, he reached out, took a tight grip on Daniels' nuts and pulled his cock into his mouth until his nose was jammed into Daniels' pubes, letting a long growl escape as he did it.
That was my cue, and I started pumping his cunt in long strokes, feeling the almost impossible tightness of him and the heat, seeing the lather at his distended cuntring as I did so. I would have laughed, except that Karl had his other hand reached behind and between my legs, a strong grip on my big cumtanks, pulling against my out-strokes to get me DEEP inside him again.
Karl's slurping on Daniels' cock got sloppier and louder, and Daniels' encouragement got louder. Karl's growls and moans and whimpers got louder. My own growls had gotten longer and louder, too. We were three loud, lewd guys . . . and the sight of Karl's tiny fuckhole STRETCHED around my marauding cock shaft along with the sight of Daniels' head thrashing back and forth, his eyes rolling as he rocketed toward his release was all just fuel for my crazed fucking.
I slammed that boy HARD and DEEP and FAST and felt him yank my nuts every time, showing me he wanted me, wanted my cock deep in him, wanted my cumload . . . as much as he wanted Daniels, whose cock he worked with grunts and moans and growls and slurps of almost desperate pitch and frequency.
"SSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS," Daniels hissed, and I knew by how taut his muscles had become - a masterpiece of male sculpting! - that his nut was blowing down Karl's throat. Karl inadvertently confirmed by a series of enthusiastic moans and growls and slurping sucks as he no doubt swallowed a big nutload.
"OHFUCK!" I shouted suddenly, realizing that my own nuts were exploding. I JAMMED my cock DEEP into Karl, ground myself as hard against his tailbone as I could, and let loose my blasts inside him.
I was startled back to consciousness after a brief departure while I unloaded when Daniels' shriek tore into my brain. "FFFFFFFFFFFFFF UUUUUU CCCCCCCC KKKKKKKKKKKKK you gotta let me go!" he shouted, in a soprano that would have had a boys' choirmaster envious, and he shoved Karl hard and pulled himself backward away from Karl's relentlessly sucking mouth, landing with a hard THUD against my bathroom wall. "JESUS FUCK! You practically sucked my balls up through my prickhole!"
Disengaging myself from Karl caused a yelp from him as my engorged cockflange broke free of his fuckring and a stream of globby cum mixed with shampoo suds ran out of his gaping, swollen cunt. "Sorry," I said. For good measure I smacked his small bubble butt.
"You are not!" he laughed, scrambling around, wincing obviously as he moved his sore ass, and clamping his mouth over my three-quarters hardon to suck me clean.
I grabbed at his head, but he batted my arm away. "I'm all soapy!" I protested. But it was no use. Karl wanted to lap up the residual of our fuck, just as he'd ravaged Daniels' cock. Who was I to deny him?
"Major?" Daniels asked, still leaning heaped against the wall. I glared at him, and he knew what I meant. "Bill, I meant." I gave him a smirk in lieu of praise. "Can I keep this pig when you're gone?"
"WHAT?!" Karl yelled, having pulled off me in a flash, looking up at me with a mouthful of suds around his lips. I couldn't help but laugh, and I reached down and wiped some of the shampoo lather off his lips. "Blech!" he grimaced and swiped at his open mouth with the back of his hand over his outstretched tongue . . . a very talented tongue at that. "What's this about when you're gone?" he asked, getting to his feet.
"I'm being reposted," I told him matter-of-factly, returning my glare to Daniels for bringing us all down.
"Awwww, shit! You're the best fuck ever on this rock!" Karl bemoaned.
Daniels' look was smoldering. "Don't I know it?" he chimed in.
"Okay, enough of that crap. Get out of the shower, Karl . . . or stay in. I need a shower," I told him, reaching around and turning it on full blast.
"HOLY FUCK that's cold!" Karl shrieked, jumping to the side.
Daniels and I both laughed, and he joined us as I regulated the temperature to one a pizza boy could handle. Then the three of us washed each other, and Karl made certain both our cocks were completely clean and free of soap or shampoo with his mouth, then we awkwardly spit roasted him until the continuing spray in a shower made for one - two big men and one wide-shouldered but much smaller surfer boy.
When I felt Karl's mouth go slack around my cock and heard him cry out "OH FUCK YEAH!" as Daniels slammed into him one last time, his face contorted in a grimace of abject ecstasy, I knew Karl's cunt was again being flooded with seed. Then he grabbed my nuts HARD and yanked and squeezed them as he returned to work on my cock and quickly pulled me over the edge and swallowed the copious load I blasted down his throat.
Karl got up and unexpectedly threw his arms around me and buried his face into my neck. "Is this the last time? You just got back and now you're going for good?"
Daniels looked at Karl clutching me and absently stroked his flagging cock, probably for lack of anything better to do. I stood there stiffly - I didn't do that kind of scene . . . although I pretty much had, with Rob, the entire week. Maybe that's why I was too paralyzed to even push Karl away.
Finally Daniels saved me by taking the soap and lathering up Karl's ass. "Let's get you cleaned up so you don't leave a trail of our DNA when you leave." The clear message was that Karl WAS leaving.
"You're already gone, Bill," Daniels said softly from behind me, having come into the bathroom. And he was right. I was standing in front of the toilet, my stream long spent, just staring out the window and remembering the night past. My head was already at my next posting - the Pentagon.
I moved wordlessly from the toilet and washed my hands and then brushed my teeth, forcing my thoughts back to the now from the preferable future. My head was a jumble of roiling emotions - about leaving Hawaii, about leaving a base for a building, about my brothers recently lost in a desert on the other side of the world.
Daniel's loud piss stream cut through the swirling hurricane of thoughts and gave me an anchor to grab hold of. He'd said last night he'd been given the weekend off, since our CO, for whom he was currently his driver, was off with his wife for the weekend. Soon I'd have to ditch Daniels . . . or not . . . or maybe it was just too late. What the FUCK was that about anyway - him sleeping over? Him cuddling up to me and us spooning through the night?
"I'll make this easy for you, Bill," Daniels said suddenly, again startling me. When he finished shaking his dick free of his last piss drops, he turned and we faced each other via the mirror in front of me at the sink. "Too much beer last night, and I took advantage and did something I've always wanted to do - spend the night with you. I'll grab my clothes and head back to the base." He didn't wait for an answer - he just left the bathroom without even washing his hands, and he headed back to the bedroom.
I braced my hands on the counter and looked hard at myself in the mirror, took a deep breath. "Michael," I called. He appeared again behind me, us again facing each other in the mirror. He had his tight briefs on and his t-shirt in his hand. "Wanna go grab some breakfast? Maybe up the North Shore?"
Daniels' face slackened, and I only then noticed that he'd been tense. "Yeah, Bill, I'd like that."
Later we surfed together - we'd picked up his board from the base - and of course we fucked and sucked a lot more that day. But when we'd been at the base I'd also gotten my orders, which had come through officially. They were addressed to Lt. Col. William James; so my promotion in rank had also come through, both after our CO left for the weekend. As we lay panting after a long, stress-relieving fuck - the stress of my mind going about a hundred directions, all toward the nation's capital - Daniels asked, "You're going to ship out early, aren't you?"
"Yeah," I said simply.
In another previously off-limits move Daniels took hold of my hand. "Thanks for this. Thanks for the time before you take off, Bill."
There was more, and we both knew it; but it didn't matter now. Still, there was no avoiding it as we let our skin cool under the fan above the bed.
"If I don't say this now, I'll regret it. So you're just going to have to man-up, Colonel, and let me get it out."
I couldn't do anything but laugh at that. "Go ahead, Michael. But let's leave the Corps out of it, out of this kind of talk, okay?"
"Fair enough," he acceded. "You know you were my first guy, right? Not counting jacking off with buds when I was a kid. But for real, for sex, you were my first guy." I didn't have to answer because he knew I knew, and he just kept going. "That night was like my whole life suddenly made sense all of a sudden. I could BE a MAN and I could be with a MAN and we could have sex but still be MEN. That's what I was always afraid of - the whole myth of a male and female part to it, of having to be or having to be with something or someone I wasn't.
"You were something - shit, you still are! Tall, handsome, smart, a true gentleman -" I put my hand up to stop him at that point, but he waived it off. "You're all of those things, as well as being a hero, Bill. You're like the combination of the ultimate Marine and the ultimate man. I didn't change my life after we played around when you visited the island almost four years ago; I simply understood it and changed the things in my life that weren't honest and weren't right. And I did it honestly.
"Shit, I hate the whole hiding thing, fearing a dishon, if anyone catches me, but that's survival, not dishonesty, like the life I'd built around my being unable to be okay with what I am."
"Michael," I forced him to stop, if only for a minute. "I didn't do any of that. You did. You were ready, and you took responsibility and did what you needed to do. That's what Marines do, man."
"See? You make me fall in love with you every time I'm around you, Bill. You're just the perfect man . . . including being so perfect because you're unavailable."
That stopped my thoughts cold. I'd never thought of myself as unavailable, just never conveniently positioned for anything beyond short duration, immediate pleasure.
"It's okay, really. When you came back it was like, 'WOW, my hero has returned. Now I can REALLY learn how to LIVE my life!' And when we started having sex together again, and when we became friends, it was like, 'WOWEEEEEE!' I don't know how to describe it. But it's been great. And it's because it's been great, but it hasn't been TOO great or hasn't pushed me too far along that I'm ready now to see what happens when - IF! - I find myself a boyfriend after you're gone." He brought his huge bicep up and covered his face with his sinewy forearm. "SHIT, I sound like a total idiot."
"No, you sound like my best friend, Michael. And I'll not only miss fucking your amazing hot ass, but I'll miss having you around in general when I'm gone." I meant every word.
Daniels' body started heaving, and for a moment I was terrified he'd started crying. Then he threw his big arm away from his face, and let out a laugh that resounded through my apartment. He started to speak a couple of times, but he just cracked up every time. Finally he just punched me hard in the shoulder and got himself up and sitting on the side of the bed, laughing like a hyena, his forearms on his knees and his head down.
"What the fuck is so fucking funny?" I finally asked.
A few moments later he turned, and this time there were tears there that weren't from laughing. I steeled my gut. "Nothing, Bill. But I had to do something to not lose it completely. For you, that's like a profession of emotion and feeling that's epic," he observed accurately. Looking hard into my eyes he finished. "I'll never forget that. Or you," he added a bit wistfully.
I didn't know what to say, and if I had I wouldn't have known how to say it. I'd pretty much shot my wad already.
"How 'bout we hit the supply and pick up some boxes and tape and I help you get ready for your quick escape. I assume you'll be leaving early Monday so you can take your leave from the colonel?"
I reached out and grabbed him and pulled him down into me. "It's too late to hit supply tonight. I don't have that much, so tomorrow morning will give us plenty of time. Right now, I'm thinking of packing your fuckhole again."
"See what I mean about being smart? That's why you're a colonel and I'm a lowly sergeant . . . built to serve."
And he did . . . well . . . several times again that night, until we were both so exhausted that we couldn't even stay awake to watch an old rerun of Hawaii Five-O on the TV and fell asleep against each other.
Sunday we hit the base, filled the back of my truck with boxes, tape and the ever-necessary MSL's to make sure my boxes got to DC and found me. As I predicted, packing was quick work, and we had the rest of the day to . . . well, of course, the usual - surfing, fucking, biking, fucking, eating, fucking . . .
Sunday night we ordered in pizza, but it wasn't Karl who delivered it; it was the owner, who said he'd heard I was leaving and the pie was on him, thanking me for being a great customer and a "great influence on Karl" which I had no idea how to take.
We fucked some more, watched a dreadful old movie together on TV in silence, to a late-night run in the warm breeze and then fucked some more. I awoke before dawn to Daniels' tongue up my sweaty ass, surprised as hell. "Easy, colonel," he told me, his words muffled in my fuzzy crack. I've wanted to do this since the day I met you, so last chance being taken." I tensed, wondering if he wanted to fuck me, and then I'd have to lay him out . . . and ruin what had been a good time for the past couple of days, a good time that had taken my mind off my transition and my regrets and trepidation. "And no, just my tongue, Marine - I know what you like, and you know what I like. Not going to ruin that now!" He rimmed me and tongue fucked me until I thought I'd climb the walls with desire for him, then I practically fucked him through the flimsy wall of my apartment. If the neighbors thought anything of the headboard banging and the loud wailing growls of two men, they apparently kept it to themselves.
My apartment stunk of cum and sweat - and it was another pang in my chest that I couldn't stay and enjoy that, too, like I enjoyed the islands. Daniels knew one of the civilian cooks - another musclehead - on base who had a sister who cleaned houses, and he'd promised to have her clean my place thoroughly by the evening, if not during the day. She'd put the last of the sheets and towels we'd soiled through the laundry and into the last box I'd left untaped for that purpose. We'd packed the last of the kitchen stuff - coffeemaker and mugs, stupidly - the night before, so it was just the endorphins keeping us going that morning.
Daniels had gotten a ride off base to my place, so I dropped Daniels at his barracks on the way to my CO's office. He got out of my truck without any tearful goodbye or anything equally problematic. Just a quick, "Semper fi," meeting my gaze head on, and after I "Ooh rah"ed him back with great effort to make it sound far more enthusiastic than I felt, he was out and away. I enjoyed that last sight of his magnificent musculature bouncing and rolling, and that world class bubble butt of his bobbling away.
As predicted, my goodbye at the base command office was short, but also surprising. My CO not only shook my hand warmly, but, in a move nobody would have believed who didn't see it - his secretary and his second in command, who were in the outer office - he hugged me and said softly in that momentary clench, "Semper fi, colonel. Shake up that place when you get there!"
I'd left a letter for my landlord, telling him that the Corps would tie up my lease. I'd also left a note for my neighbor and frequent fuckbud, Tom, who was away on some university trip. So with only one thing left to do, I left my truck keys with the CO's secretary to be taken care of with my boxes. My CO had thought of everything, and being the smart and good man he was, he'd ordered a marine I didn't know to drive me to Pearl for the mainland-bound transport, instead of having his driver, Daniels, do it.
When I was on the very cushy plane - because it was some brass returning to DC and not the transport I was used to - I let my eyes soak up everything I could about O'ahu as we taxied and then ascended. It was somewhere I'd become too comfortable - not a good thing for a marine. I loved the place, but it was time to return to the world I knew, even though I was re-entering through a portal I knew nothing about, the Pentagon.
And what I didn't know then was that a mere few days later my life would truly change, forever, when some cowards attacked our country - including the building I worked in - and all our lives were transformed that day, September 11, 2001. My own self-indulgence in moodiness over having left Kaneohe and Hawaii and, particularly, over being posted to a place where politics superseded defense ended abruptly that morning, like God saying, "ENOUGH!" and slapping me in the most cruel way possible. But . . . the warrior in me took over again, finally, and I WENT TO WORK!