Call For Wild Turkey
The vibrant dream ended as the sun broke through the window morning after Thanksgiving, leaving my heart pounding and my cock throbbing. Laying on my bed my eyes gazed down my naked body. At the end of my gaze a picturesque soldier stood at attention, angry, rock hard, and ready to erupt with the power of the Kilauea volcano on the island of Hawaii. I could see a glint of precum flowing from my urethral opening spilling over the pink dome. The precum rolled down to the bulbous crimson coronal ring at the base like a skier making a run down a mountain. Once again my shattered dream prompted exuberant lust for my partner. My lover was Missing In Action.
I lay in my bed that Saturday morning with no partner to provide pleasure to my hard cock except my fist. I ached for intimacy. My head ached, reminding me of the previous night finding solace in a bottle of Wild Turkey, echoing the call for more of the same to ease my pain. For months I'd been an emotional wreck without my other half: my soul mate.
I lusted for sexual fulfillment. Almost a year after experiencing one of the most erotic times in my life I once again began receiving comp invitations to spend the upcoming holiday season in Reno, Nevada. The last visit turned into a financial windfall; however, more than anything else the last week of my leave and year turned into a holiday fuckfest unequal to anything I'd experienced before or since. It had been a week of nonstop sex for me anytime with one or more partners. Let me tell you about that week.
Given that I had no family to spend the Christmas holiday with I'd decided a couple months prior to my redeployment to coordinate and take advantage of a special holiday offer only available to service members returning from overseas combat assignments; however, the proposition required that I must spend at least seven days and nights to qualify for the package. Therefore, I would spend the end of my post-deployment Army leave, Christmas to New Years, in Reno. Although I knew no one in Reno I'd chosen the gambling mecca of America because I managed to get a great deal on airfare and hotel accommodations, moreover I had money to burn.
After the shuttle picked me up at the Reno-Tahoe airport and transported me and my B-4 bag to my hotel suite my next mission, ferret out a watering hole that served my favorite bourbon: Wild Turkey 101. I would also need some civilian clothes and then once out of uniform I thought Reno might be the Shangri-La in which to get laid or at least get a decent blowjob before my leave ended. I not only needed good American food and beverage; moreover, I needed some good old sex with a good-looking human to relieve the heavy load in my balls. I had tired of secluded masturbation.
After walking around checking out the RedPepper Casino I wandered into a quaint out-of-the-way bar. When I walked into the bar it took my eyes a minute to adjust from the bright casino lighting to the dimness in the bar. Once my eyes focused there like an early Christmas gift sat a fresh bottle of Wild Turkey 101 on the shelf behind the bar. I pointed to the bottle and ordered three fingers neat. Seated on the barstool I watched the attractive bartender break the seal on my call, uncork the bottle with a pop and then pour my order into an old fashion whiskey glass. "Not many people order bourbon using the finger method any longer," the bartender said.
"Yeah, well I'm an old fashion type guy," I said.
With an infectious smile the bar keep pushed the glass towards me before he said, "Somethin tells me I'm gonna enjoy servin you Sir... how long you gonna be around?"
Before answering I thought to myself, the bartender, a sexually tempting man, maybe a couple years younger then me, might be a person I wanted to endear myself to during my stay at the RedPepper. "Week," I said handing over my hotel-casino boarding pass that I'd been issued upon arrival along with my Army identification card. He verified my ID, handed it back and then slid the card through the register charging the drink to my hotel account.
I sipped at my bourbon during the transaction. My mind occupied with what the man who served me might look like nude. I mental images were arousing as I watched the television on the wall.
"What are your plans for the week Sir?"
There I sat alone and horny late Christmas Eve afternoon, wanting someone to share my bed for the night and the guys asks that question. I said, "I haven't given it much thought, just got here a couple hours ago."
I watched people that came and went during the waning hours of Christmas Eve. The bartender served them drinks and wished everyone a Happy Holiday because wishing Merry Christmas is no longer politically correct. My mind played with thoughts about what the alluring bartender might like to engage in sexually. I'm a people watcher, an act that over the years has been a most helpful part of my job.
Over the years I'd become somewhat of a student of kinesiology characteristics. Many times the muscles and nerves in the body may be used as an informal lie detector. Muscles are stronger when telling the truth and weaker when lying. I learned to read people by paying attention to certain characteristics. I watch eye contact, fidgeting, speech hesitations, looking up or down as well as many other body language indicators such as excessive blinking and dilated pupils. For the most part I'm able read who most liars are and are not; furthermore, I'd become pretty good at determining a person sexual life style. As the last patron departed the bar the bartender smiled that irresistible smile while he poured more bourbon into the empty glass in front of me, and I smiled back.
No one else in the bar besides us, and from what I could hear the casino didn't sound too active either. I imagined many of the hotel guests had departed to finish their last minute Christmas shopping before the stores closed at 6 pm, or were preparing to enjoy Christmas Eve festivities with family or friends. Of course many families would attend traditional midnight Christmas Mass.
"So what are your plans for Christmas Eve and day," I asked, hoping he would say something positive like ready to spend the night in bed with you.
"Nothin much... Workin till midnight tonight... Off tomorrow, but I'm sure somebody's gonna call in sick and I'll get stuck workin tomorrow afternoon or evening... What a drag."
"So, you're pretty much in the same boat as me," I said.
I ordered another three fingers of my favorite bourbon. Then we introduced ourselves before engaging in more foolish banter. Finally I asked, "So, Aaron you know where I could get a set of civilian clothes at this late hour?"
"I'll check... What's your sizes Major?" Aaron asked.
I gave Aaron sizes for shirt, pants and shoes before I made a foolish remark, "About seven inches is the most important size."
"Is that measured with an AOL ruler or standard ruler?" Aaron asked with jocularity.
We both laughed knowing what he meant. Aaron a very astute young man smiled back and said, "Most stores are closed now. You might want to consider remainin in uniform tonight and tomorrow... People are real responsive to military these days... Not like back in the day, you know, Vietnam vets... Besides I think you look awesome in your ACUs."
"These are gettin a little ripe, if you know what I mean... I've had 'em on for almost 24 hours. I'd appreciate it if you could locate some clothing," I said as I palmed Aaron a finder's fee $20.00 dollar bill.
As he took the money from my hand his lingered for a moment as he took the bill. He scratched his middle finger across the palm of my hand as he licked his lips indicating he might be available. A stimulating sense of electric current passed between us. Aaron smiled at me with a come-hither look. If not mistaken his look was a beckon call that he might be available for a nightcap after work: a midnight romp if you will. A provocative appearing devil Aaron caused my cock to become engorged and elongate along the inseam of my ACU pants. I ask, "When'd you say you get off work?"
"Midnight, but I have a dinner break from 19:00 to 19:30 hours."
"You're ex-military?" I asked.
"Yes Sir, Staff Sergeant Force Recon Marine... Iraq."
We continued to make small talk about our experiences in the Middle East wars and our jobs. Before I could find out whether Aaron might want to make a date for later on, out of my peripheral vision, I spotted a lanky good-looking but disheveled appearing guy about my age stumble into the bar. He slammed his hand down on the bar, looks over at me and nods. Then he looks back at the bartender and shouts, "Couple of those double and straight," pointing to my bottle of Wild Turkey still sitting on the bar, "And keep em comin... I plan on gettin fuuuuucked up tonight."
More than the man's boisterous nature, his call caught my attention. Not many people order Wild Turkey neat, especially just to get drunk. Wild Turkey is one of the finest Kentucky bourbon whiskeys around: smooth with an acquired taste. It is also known for being a favorite drink of the late writer Hunter S. Thompson as well as other notables.
Aaron poured two doubles and then slid the glasses to the man. The guy raised his first glass in a salute before he hollers, "Merry Fuckin Christmas and Happy Birthday God wherever you are!" He then downs the drink in one swallow after which he shakes his head violently from side to side and then bellows, "Whooooo!"
I smile at the man with my glass raised, returning the salutation. I then move away from the bar to seek repose at a secluded table. I guess what really caught my attention was the man's call and the fact that I was sipping Wild Turkey. The man kept looking at me with a curious face. After a couple minutes I suggested, "Join me if you care to."
Preparing for an earful of woe I watched the man pickup his second glass of bourbon from the bar, get to his feet, walk a few steps in my direction, before flopping into the chair across the table from me. He extended his hand saying, "My name's Boyd... You know sumthin Major... Just caught my wife cheatin." He finished his drink, again shaking his head, before he said, "Yup, fuckin some dude in my bed... Dude... In my fuckin bed... On Christmas Eve you believe that shit?"
"Did you shoot the bastard?" I asked with a tone of mockery as I signaled the bar tender for two more glasses.
"Nah, just walked out 'n left 'em fuckin... Maybe she's fuckin him 'cause his dick's bigger'n mine," Boyd said before he downs the fresh glass of bourbon in his hand in one swallow. "Ah, good shit," he says shaking his head once again. "Keep 'em comin."
Not wanting to explain to Boyd the proper etiquette for consuming Wild Turkey 101 I interject some humor, "You know, I caught a Taliban in bed one night bangin this fugly old Afghani bitch... Yep, kicked in the door to the mud house and there they were fuckin on a dirty mattress on the floor... Caught 'em in the beam of my light, ugly sight. Her legs up in the air, she's screamin some shit I couldn't understand... His big ugly hairy ass is shinin at me while he's plowin the bitch."
"You shoot the Taliban?" Aaron asks from the bar facetiously.
We all laughed before I said, "No, prodded his ass with the barrel of my M4 to get his attention." Both men laughed and then I said, "Left the poor fucker cowerin and quakin on the mattress on the floor... I should've stood over them and pissed all over them before I left... All them al-Qaeda and Taliban muthafuckers are fuckin cowards... Yep, never seen such an ugly sight in all my life."
Aaron said, "Maybe the fugly bitch was one of them virgins."
Again we all laughed; however, after the laughter died out Boyd said, "Better go see if I can get a room for the night 'fore I get too fucked up to drive... Ah Hell, let's have another round of drinks on me before I do that... You make me laugh Major... Need some laughter this afternoon."
After Boyd downed another bourbon to ease the pain he licked the inside of his glass before ordering another round for the two of us. I thought to myself if Boyd kept throwing back Wild Turkeys the way he was drinking them he'd be laughing at anything I said. I could see that Boyd was starting to get shit-faced. For some reason he looked familiar, but more than his looks his voice and laugh sounded eerily familiar.
The bartender walked over to the table with two more sets of Wild Turkeys and said, "I overheard your conversation about gettin a room. I think the hotel is full, but I'll check with the desk."
"Thanks," Boyd said.
Finally, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer so I ask, "You look and sound familiar."
"You know, I was gonna say the same about you. Where you from Major McNaughton?" Boyd asks looking at the nametag on my camouflaged Army Combat Uniform.
"I grew up in Long Beach, California, now I call Army my family and world home."
"I'm from Long Beach too. McNaughton family lived down the street years ago, but the man and his wife were killed in a plane accident."
"That was my folks," I say stoically.
"Wayne McNaughton! I'll be damned," Buzz says as he reaches over to clasp my hand with his larger paw. "Man, you've changed. For the better I might add."
"Buzz Henderson!" I exclaim. "So have you, but your voice hasn't. Last time I saw you we were teenagers in high school."
"Yeah, what happened?" Buzz asks.
"We we're best friends until the summer between my sophomore year and your junior year," I said. "I turned sixteen, got my drivers license, a car, and started chasin pussy... I think we just drifted apart... You know, hangin with a different crowd."
"Yeah, I think you're right," Buzz said. "So what you been up to since we last seen each other, beside the Army?"
"The fall after graduation I was off to Cal Poly up at San Luis Obispo. My folks were killed. After five years I graduated with a double major and then decide to take a commission in the Army. The rest is history my friend, and you?"
"After high school, remember I was a year behind you," Buzz said. "I fucked around at junior college for two years. Then I became a full-time Ski Bum... You know, skiin and snowboardin in between workin the resort scene on 80 and Lake Tahoe area until I got the job here in Reno."
"Yeah, but my girl friend at the time, later my wife tamed me. She got me the job at the VA. I finished my degree at the university here in Reno and then we got married... Oh yeah, I already told you I'm married or was until a few hours ago."
About the time Buzz finished his story the bartender walked over with four fresh glasses of Wild Turkey to say, "The hotel is full."
After that I sipped my drink while Buzz tossed his back. We continued to talk about old times and conquests. After the drinks Buzz stood up to leave. I saw he was a little wobbly, so I suggested, "Hey, instead of gettin in your car drivin around tryin to find a place to stay spend the night here with me. Rooms paid for and there're two king beds in my suite."
"I don't wanna cause any problems. Besides, you probably got some hot pussy lined up for the night," Buzz said.
"I wish, but no pussy tonight, Huh Aaron?" Aaron nods as I say "I insist, at least until tomorrow. No sense gettin caught in a DUI check point... Besides, we got a lot of catchin up to do."
"Okay, just until tomorrow," Buzz says. "We can spend the night reminiscin."
Before I settled up with Aaron and tipped him I ask, "Any luck with the civilian clothes?"
"Workin on it Sir... I think I'm gonna be able to scare up an outfit before the nights over."
"Thanks, if you get somethin drop them by my room... If I don't answer the door, just leave them inside and I'll settle up tomorrow," I said looking longingly at Aaron.
Aaron quietly thanked me on the way out for not letting Buzz out on the street to drive. As we made our way to my room I couldn't help but remember Buzz and I were more than best friends back in the day. We'd also been what are referred to as jerk off buddies from about the seventh grade into high school. In high school the scent of ripe pussy beckoned and those days were over. The one thing I remembered: Buzz had one of the biggest cocks in our school. I know because we would measure each others cocks from time to time; moreover Buzz was the talk of the locker room as well as high school gossip. Gossip said that Buzz's cock measured a foot long and big around as a baseball bat.
From that first time comparing cocks I was envious, yet embarrassed at the same time. As the older I always expected to catch up to him because he was nine months younger than me, but that never happened. From the time we met and started fooling around his cock always presented the biggest flaccid as well as erect. The last time we measured that summer before my junior year Buzz was a fraction of an inch away from nine inches long erect. He hung right around the size of a soda can or flashlight soft with an awesomely pronounced cockhead. We reached the room: I put my card in the door and entered. Buzz sat down of one of the furthest of the king size beds where he began to cry. I called room service to request another set of towels for the morning.
"You gonna be okay buddy?" I asked my new roommate.
"Okay," Buzz said wiping his face with his hands.
"They're still serving dinner down at the buffet if you want to go get some chow, I suggested.
"Come on, buck up... Throw some water on your face and get your shit squared away... Let's go get some fuckin chow," I said.
After we got squared away we journeyed down to the buffet where the line although empty was still up and serving. We picked a little of this and little of that filling our plates before making our way to the table the server had reserved for us. She came by a couple minutes later with our drinks.