I value your thoughts and opinion; I would also like to hear from you personally. Personal stories and accounts of your own similar experiences are always welcome. Contact me at [email protected] I greatly appreciate the comments you leave on the site but I cannot respond unless you leave an email address or email me direct.

This work is copyrighted.

The Epilogue Chapters

(Thanksgiving, Some Years Later)

The Litany of the Sons:

Kyle is Brad's adopted son, brought back from Vietnam when he was a little boy. He is an attorney, unmarried, and perhaps still undecided about his sexuality. He is considered to be Devon's brother.

Devon is Jason's adopted son, brought back from Vietnam when he was a little boy. He is considered to be Kyle's brother. He is still in the Marines. He is Jakes partner in life; they met at football camp.

Jake is Devon's partner in life. They met at football camp. He is also still in the Marines.

Jacob, the first boy Jason and Brad took in when he was 14, arrived from a foster home with bruises. He is 29, married, he and his wife, Brenda, have five kids, (10, 8, 7, 5, 3). He takes in Andrew, a boy who arrives on Thanksgiving day.

Petey, Jacob's little brother shows up out of the blue.

Jordan, 15 when he arrived, got a tattoo when he was 14. He is now 30, a high school teacher and coach, and Adam's lover.

Adam arrived when he was 11 or 12, he came while Jason was out rounding up the other boys from the foster home. He was dropped off by his mother and her boyfriend. He is now 27, a warehouse foreman, Jordan's lover. His mother never came back for him.

Little George, said/thought he was 10 when arrived. He was right. He is now 25, in medical school.

Nolan was a big, handsome, muscular, very well hung boy when he arrived at 14. He ran away and Jason went to get him and bring him back. He is now 29, works construction, He is still big, handsome, well hung and muscular and also does modeling work on the side, as well as a male escort. He also volunteers coaching pony league; he brings his 19 year old college student friend/lover/partner, Levi.

Colby arrived with his friend Braden when they were 16, in a car they had "borrowed" from an uncle; a car that filled with stolen goods. He is now 32, a priest.

Braden, Sales, Exectutive, had just turned 16 when he first arrived with Colby. He is now 31, divorced form the girl he got pregnant in high school. He has custody of his fourteen year old son, Aaron. Braden brings a man friend, WILL, and his son, LUKE, to Thanksgiving dinner.

Epilogue Chapter Eighteen


We'd had such a great Thanksgiving and we told the boys not to plan on coming back for Christmas; they needed to be with their own families and friends. And anything they might spend on gifts, they should donate to a food pantry or other good cause. We sent packages to Jake in Korea, and Devon in Germany, of course. We were surprised how quickly we received thank-you letters from them. In Devon's letter to Jason was the suggestion that he come to Germany for Christmas. I was surprised how easily he shrugged it off, and I wondered why.

"So, it's gonna be just you and me," Jason remarked over supper.

"It's not the first time," I reminded him.

"Instead of putting up a tree-hell, there won't be any little ones around to enjoy it-I think we oughta spread a little cheer around the neighborhood."

"What've you got in mind?"

"Well, there's the nursing home, for starters. We've never been there; it's time we made ourselves known."

I grabbed a notebook and pen. Jason kidded me about being so organized, while he liked to do things more randomly. We visited the nursing home and came away with a list of suggestions for gifts for the residents, ranging from handkerchiefs to socks to slippers.

"This won't do," Jason said as he started scratching things off. Then he went to the phone and called the nursing home and asked for the supervisor. He arranged to have one of the nurses we'd met meet us at the drug store the next morning to help pick out gifts for the residents.

The drug store had a very nice gift department and we pretty much bought them out. Helen knew the residents well and helped pick out something special for each one; mostly toiletry gifts for both the women and the men. Then we went to the city's only department store, to the ladies department, where Nurse Helen helped pick out not just boxed handkerchiefs but slippers and very nice house dresses, robes in small, medium and large sizes. Then to the men's department where she selected nice slacks, dress shirts, robes and slippers. She worriedly asked at one point if she might be spending too much money. I told her not to worry about the money but I asked if she could round up others at the nursing home to wrap and tag each of the eighty-one gifts. She assured me she could. We bought a bundle of gift wrap for her to take along.

One of Jason's random ideas was to purchase a Santa outfit; he would be Santa Claus at the nursing home. He bought me an elf outfit, complete with tan leather boots, a bulky blouse and a hat with a tassel. I wasn't sure I would wear it.

"I don't look good in green tights," I told him.

"You'll look great in green tights. Give the ladies a thrill."

I put on the outfit.

"A tight assed college kid couldn't pull it off any better," he said with a huge grin as he eyed me up and down.

I took a look in the mirror, front and back. It wasn't so bad. In fact, it looked pretty damned good the way the tights hugged my thighs and my butt. But I was a little concerned how they fit in front.

"Damn, you haven't lost it," Jason said, eyeing my butt. "You've got the ass of a twenty year old."

"Make that thirty and I might believe you," I said. Then I turned around and we both surveyed my front in the mirror. "I don't know about these tights," I said.

"They're perfect."

"You're drooling! What's this going to do to those old women?" I said.

"Well, it'll get their heart rates up," he said.

Another last minute random idea was to pass out boxes of chocolates.

"If you don't think it would be too much," he said.

"No, it's a great idea. All cremes, though," I said.

"I meant the money," he said.


"Your parents would be proud of how you've handled your inheritance. You're a good steward, Brad."

"There's no reason not to be. We don't want for anything, do we?"

We had an absolute ball at the nursing home. Jason was perfect as Santa and I got a rousing welcome from the staff as his elf assistant. I mean, they gave me the once over, all around. One of the male nurses, especially. I was a little embarrassed. Later, he asked if I would consider playing the elf at his own Christmas party. I declined. Nurse Helen had done an outstanding job of wrapping and tagging the gifts. She had even wrapped them so each resident got two presents.

Jason's portrayal of Santa was memorable. We heard more than once from the staff, "We haven't seen these kinds of smiles in ages."

The director thanked us profusely. "They've never had this nice a Christmas."

One of the gentlemen used his walker to go up to the piano where he sat down and began playing Christmas carols. The nurses started singing and encouraging the residents to join in. They did, with gusto, very much out of tune except for one elderly woman who sang like a bird. I was amazed that her voice was so steady and strong. Well into the second song others began to drop out, till the lady was singing solo.

As things were winding down several cameras came out and for the next hour we posed for pictures with the residents.

"I can't believe the elf has upstaged Santa," Jason whispered.

"I can't believe how many of these women are feeling my ass."

Epilogue Chapter Nineteen


(The Bishop)

I was surprised and gratified that so many of the boys returned to go to Appalachia. We converged on the Creekside Motel in the tiny town of Cotter's Creek outside of Roanoke in the early warm days of June. We took four rooms; three with two double beds and one with a king bed. It was assumed by everyone that the actual sleeping arrangements would vary from day-to-day, night-to-night. It wasn't anything fancy but they had a very nice outdoor pool. I thought we should know how much money had been collected from guys and co-workers and chipped in themselves so we would know how much we had to work with but when I mentioned it I got it from all sides; don't worry about it, if we run out of money we've all got credit cards.

"Yeah, my boss gave me the company credit card," Nolan said.

So I backed down. They were obviously determined to do the job regardless of cost. I also had my credit card and my checkbook, and I thought to myself that my parents would say the money they left me would be well spent.

Colby was overwhelmed. The first task was to survey and prioritize the work that needed to be done. Nolan, being in construction himself, handed young Jesse a clipboard and took him and Father Colby to have a look around. I thought it was great that he was drawing the teenager into the project. Colby insisted that the Brown's house was at the top of the list. One look and Nolan concluded that it needed to be torn down. The rectory, where Father Colby lived was in dire need of repair but Colby wouldn't let him tear it down and he wanted the church repaired first. Several other houses needed serious repairs or even complete renovation and virtually every building in the town needed attention. Nolan was good at his job. As he went along he made a list of the materials that would be needed. Then he said he was going into town to find Pearson Construction and Lumber. I gave him my check book with two signed checks.

"I don't wanta clean you out," he said.

"I've got overdraft protection," I said.

He returned a few hours later with a small convoy!

"What the hell," Jason said as we stood and watched the vehicles snaking along the narrow, crumbling road leading into town. There were two flatbeds loaded down with lumber and other building materials along with two oversized pickups from which emerged eight brawny workers. Another truck hauled a giant water tank. Last was another truck pulling a modular home.

Nolan handed my check book back to me. I noticed only one of the signed checks had been used and the one that was used was for $1000.00.

"This can't begin to cover the cost of everything," I said.

"I wrote the check for what the man said," Nolan said. "Pearson volunteered four of his men, the other four were just hanging around and they volunteered to help out.

"What about the modular home?" I couldn't believe somebody had donated it.

"It's on loan for the Browns to live in while we replace their house."

The modular was set up in about an hour and the water connected. We moved the Browns out of their shack and into the modular. Mrs. Brown, standing with her neighbors, was so nervous and couldn't watch the house being torn down but her husband stood and watched with tears of joy streaming down his face.

I had to applaud Nolan's fierce talent. Jason and I were neither overly qualified as carpenters but we soon learned, as did the others. Nolan did little of the work himself; he was too busy supervising and showing the rest of us what to do and how to do it. He knew how to get things done. He even brought the younger boys in on it.

"It's not rocket science," he kept saying, and, "You gotta be smarter than the hammer."

The Brown's house that we tore down was only one large room and it was being propped up with crude logs cut from the nearby woods. The house we built was nothing fancy but it was five rooms with the addition of a fine front porch and a wash house just outside of the kitchen. That was added when Mrs. Brown lamented that she would be losing her wash house with the destruction of the old house. The house might have been bigger except for the size of the lot.

Nolan took a crew to the rectory but again Father Colby refused to let them touch it till the church was repaired. It was and the rectory was next.

Nolan respected Colby's wishes and didn't tear it down but he came as close as he dared with Colby looking on. Nearly every board was replaced with only the original beams standing, and it looked all new from the outside. Colby was worried about where he was going to sleep that night.

"Where you always sleep. We'll have it finished by nightfall," Nolan told him.

I was amazed how fast the two structures went up. But then there were nearly twenty men maneuvering around each other, like a swarm of worker bees. Nolan even put the younger boys to work with Jesse in charge. As the cleanup was finished at each site he put them to painting. Colby liked the plain wood interior so only the outside of the rectory was painted. He was moved back in and his bed made up by nightfall, as promised. The Browns had to wait.

At dusk another vehicle showed up; a lunch truck from a catering company. A guy with SAM on his shirt clanged the bell and yelled for everyone to come and get fed. Of course everyone pulled out their money to pay.

"Your Yankee money's no good here," Sam said.

"You're gonna go broke feeding this many for nothing," someone said.

"It's not free gratis. Some businessmen heard about what you're doing, they're footing the bill," Sam said.

"Give me one good reason why I should believe you," Jordan said.

"Do I look like I would be giving away free food?"

Yeah, he did, and we only half believed him.

The workers from town said they would eat when they got home but they stuck around to have coffee and talk. Nolan used some of the old lumber for a bonfire. The younger boys were very proud to be part of the all-man work force and they hung around as long as they could but they were soon so sleepy that they could barely stay awake. One of the workers from town drove them back to the motel on his way home.

The workers expressed their appreciation for all we were doing and Nolan thanked them for pitching in. Personally, I had issues. Not with the good work we were doing and all the money that had been donated; I wondered how the small hamlet had been allowed to deteriorate to such a state.

"You're asking why we didn't do this before now, ourselves," a worker named Lyle said.

"Yeah, I guess I am asking that."

"There have been a few attempts to better our conditions," he said. "You see, this isn't a town in the true sense of the word. It's not in the city limits and it's not incorporated."

The others chimed in.

"It's a conclave of houses that have sprung up over the years along the side of the road. It comes under the auspices of the diocese, part of the bishop's flock. The forgotten of his flock."

"One time when there was lumber and materials donated for repairs the bishop came out and proclaimed that the donation was made to the diocese and he claimed ownership. Nobody ever saw one damned board on any of the structures here."

"How does he get by with that?" I asked.

"He's very domineering and dictatorial. He is the bishop, after all. These people won't buck him. Hell, they're not able to support their church, only what little they can kick in for Father Colby's support. The bishop claims to take care of them but that means him driving out a couple of times a year and imparting his blessing. Try to put a blessing in your belly," he said sarcastically.

"People try to help but they're proud. They've lost hope; resigned themselves."

"Maybe somebody needs to un-resign them," Jason said. "Maybe somebody needs to impart a blessing on the bishop."

"Uh-oh," I said under my breath.

"Where does the bishop live?" Jason asked.

"Oh, shit," I said wearily.

The workers looked at me. A couple of them smiled, one laughed.

"You don't wanta know," one said.

I didn't know where everyone slept but Jason and I ended up with our own room.

"How did this happen?" I asked as we were drying off after our shower.

"They probably think we're too old for sex," he joked.

Everyone was up bright and early the next morning about sunrise, including several of the workers from town from the day before. Some of the townspeople said they had seen the bishop's car drive slowly through town and then turn around and drive back and stop at the rectory.

Jason and I headed over to see Colby.

"I hear your boss paid you a visit last night."

"Yes, word travels," he said.

"What'd he want?" Jason asked.

"It was just a courtesy call."

"This is me, Colby," Jason said. "What'd the bishop want?"

"Well, he wasn't overly happy with what's going on. He wanted to know what I'd said or done, who I'd talked to, to draw attention to myself and prompt all of this. He doesn't like adverse publicity."

"What the hell is adverse about fixing up the town?" I said.

"That's French for he's not in charge," Colby said.

"What else?" I asked. "There's something else, Colby."

"He, uh.....he said all of this belongs to the diocese, all the lumber and material, and he said it should have been delivered......"

"Whoa! Why would the lumber and material be delivered anywhere but the worksite?" Jason asked.

"It'll only cause trouble if you say anything," Colby said, his head down.

I went over to him and crooked a finger under his chin so I could eyeball him.

"I don't like seeing you like this, Colby," I said.

"I've taken the vow of obedience," he said.

"Obedience not slavery," I said.

"Don't judge me until you've taken the vows," he said, his eyes unwavering. "In all things, God is in charge."

"I think God's going to get a little help," I said.

"Please, don't let him mention the truck," Colby said.

"Why? What's up with the truck?" I asked.

"The bishop....." He sighed. "He insisted that it be registered to the diocese."

"That's impossible; my name was on the title, along with yours."

"They accepted my signature as owner. He borrows it sometimes."

"And leaves you with....?"

"I'm without a vehicle until it's returned."

"God is going to get a LOT of help," I said.

"I don't want to lose this parish, Brad," he said, his eyes pleading. "It's where I belong. These people need me. God help us, I'm all they've got, but they need me."

"You will keep your parish, Colby, even if I have to go to the pope."

Jason had left and when I went out he was ranting to Nolan.

"If I miss him and he shows up, you detain his holy ass till I get back. Tie him up if you have to."

"I don't think we'll need to," Nolan said, looking around at all the workers.

I told Nolan I was going with Jason.

"Yes, the bishop's going to need protection," he said, laughing.

We found the bishop's residence and managed to slip in just as the heavy iron gates were closing behind a sleek Mercedes sedan. We followed it up the long winding drive leading to a huge brick and stone mansion. The red bishop's hat was visible in the back window.

"Nice digs," Jason muttered. "While our Colby is living in poverty."

"He doesn't want to lose his parish," I said.

"Alright, we'll be diplomatic."

I choked on that. I didn't tell him about the truck.

The Mercedes drove under a brick carport. We tried to catch him but by the time we caught up and got out he was whisked inside.

"We're here to see the bishop," I said to the priest, before Jason could speak.

"Do you have an appointment?" the priest asked.

"No and we don't have time for one; we're not from around here."

"I gathered. How did you get in here?"

"Same way you did," Jason said.

"You'll have to leave the same way you came; the bishop isn't available."

"He's here, he's available," Jason said as we started to follow the priest inside.

The priest stopped and with his best scowl, said, "If you don't leave I will have to call security."

"You do that," Jason said. "What is your security, altar boys?" With that, he helped the priest inside. "We are not leaving till we see the bishop. Now you can take us to him or we will find him on our own."

"Very well, but I'm not sure he will see you."

"He'll see us," I said.

We were led down wide paneled corridors lined with expensive looking chairs and side tables, the walls adorned with fine paintings and the carpet two inches thick. At the end of the hallway we were asked to wait.

"Two minutes," I said.

The priest pulled back two enormous doors and quickly closed them behind him. We paced back down the hall, went in and out of a couple of rooms. One room overlooked a lavish lawn in back where we could see through leaded glass windows.

"This place is like a castle," Jason remarked.

"Yes, complete with nymphs romping in the forest," I said.


"Come look at this."

He came over to see several naked youths cavorting around, spraying each other as they washed the Mercedes we'd followed in.

"Well, well, we just got handed all the cards," Jason said.

We came out of the room just as the priest was coming out to take us into the bishop's office.

"We would appreciate it you would wait to be escorted around," he said.

"Yes, I'm sure you would," Jason said.

He showed us in and with a little bow, introduced us to the bishop, not by name but as two unexpected visitors. We didn't bow. The bishop came around from behind his half-acre mahogany desk with his hand sticking out of his crimson robe and welcomed us in unctuous tones.

"I have but a few moments, what can I do for you?"

"We came to talk to you about your parish at Cotter's Creek,
Jason began.

"Ah, yes, a quaint little parish, fine people, very devout."

"And poor as church mice," I put in. "You didn't mention the priest."

"Yes, Father....uh....." He was snapping his fingers, trying to remember.

"Father Colby," Jason said.

"Yes, Father Colby. He is a true and obedient servant of God. The people flock to him like children."

"Too obedient, perhaps," I said and I could see his demeanor gradually changing. "You should know that this is not necessarily intended as a cordial visit," I said.

"Then what is the intent of your visit?" he asked in a belligerently defensive tone.

"For starters, to learn why Father Colby is living in a shack that's falling down around him, why the church roof leaks and why the people in Cutter's Creek are living in third-world conditions while you're living like royalty in a multi-million dollar mansion."

"I can understand that you are not privy to the day-to-day functioning of a diocese. This house is not just my home. I occupy a very small part of it. It is used to receive parishioners from all over the diocese, as well as receiving and entertaining church dignitaries and others as well."

"A hostel for the very rich and powerful?" I asked. Then, "Has there ever been a parishioner invited to this house who's not worth at least a million dollars?"

Before he could respond, Jason chimed in.

"Anything like Jesus Christ entertaining that crowd of five thousand on the mountainside and feeding them loaves and fishes?"

"See here, you are not a guest, but an intruder in this house. I must ask you to leave!" he said with great indignation.

"Not till we get some answers," Jason said.

I saw the bishop nod to the priest.

"Stay put!" I told him.

He slinked back into his corner.

We had all been standing till the bishop went back around behind his desk, I thought to create a barrier between him and us. Jason plopped down in one of the ornate chairs across from him, splayed his legs out and groped his crotch. I did the same, minus the groping part.

"There seems to be some question over the ownership of the lumber and materials that were donated for the renovation project," Jason said.

"There is no question; donations of whatever kind are made to the parish, which is within the diocese," he said as calmly as he could.

"How much of the Sunday collections from that church are siphoned off to the diocese?" I asked.

"Oh, I suspended assessments from that parish a long time ago." he said with a wave of his hand. "But none of this is any of your business. Now I must ask you to leave." He started to stand up.

"Sit down!" Jason barked.

The man fairly collapsed into his chair.

"It is very much our business," Jason said. "You see, bishop, Father Colby is one our sons and we don't like the way he's being treated." I saw the color drain from the bishop's face. "How much of the collections from the wealthier parishes go to help the poor parish of Cotter's Creek?"

"Well, we don't have what you would call wealthy parishes, but I would have to have my secretary check into that."

"There's some wealth somewhere," I said, looking around the room. "Who's paying for this palace? And that big Mercedes?" I asked.

"Are you his secretary?" Jason asked the priest. He practically melted in his robes. "Bring out the books."

"Now see here!" the bishop blurted indignantly.

"Stop saying see here! Bring out the fuckin' books!" Jason bellowed.

The bishop was scared out of his wits. I imagined he and the priest were both trembling under their robes. The bishop nodded to the priest and he got up to leave.

"You go with him," Jason said to me.

I went with him to a small ante room just off the bishop's palatial office. Despite being visibly frightened of me the priest was able to voice his feelings.

"This is an outrage," he said as he opened a safe hidden behind a large painting.

"We like to call it justice," I said dryly.

Back in the office the bishop and Jason sat in silence. The priest set the heavy, ornately bound book on the bishop's desk. Jason waved for him to bring it to him. The priest hesitated then started to pick it up but the bishop slammed his hand down on the book.

"I will NOT!" he bellowed. "I will NOT have you delving into the affairs of the church. This matter is closed! You will leave, NOW!"

I had taken the other chair and neither of us moved. When Jason didn't say anything for a moment, I did.

"Bishop, we are going to get an accounting of the affairs of your diocese, and here's how and why," I said in an even tone. Jason later said later it was a dangerous tone. "For example, there is the matter of the illegal confiscation of a private vehicle that had my name on the title. There is also the matter of naked teenage boys cavorting around in your back yard as we speak. Knowing the natural promiscuity of normal teenage boys, and they didn't act like they were being held against their will, we'll let that slide for now. But it won't look good on the front page of the paper. The truck is another matter, one that leaves you open for criminal prosecution. Now, we're going to forget the demand to pour over your books. I suspect there will come a time when prosecutors will be doing that. Here are the conditions for letting these issues go unreported for now. You will not extract a dime from Father Colby's parish. Instead, you will provide a clothing allowance....."

"He's taken the vow of poverty," the bishop said.

"Fuck your vow of poverty!" I bellowed. "I'm doing the talking, you do the listening. On top of a clothing allowance, you will purchase the proper robes that a priest wears throughout the year; the various colors for different feast days. You will provide medical and life insurance coverage for Father Colby and every member of that parish. And you will provide a monthly stipend to the parish to be used in any way Father Colby sees fit, without question or accountability. The diocese will be removed from the truck title and my name will be added back. You will however provide insurance coverage for the vehicle as well as gas, maintenance and repairs. One of your diocesan credit cards would be a convenient way of doing." I looked at the priest. "If you would be so kind as to get one, we will deliver it to Father Colby."

"We don't have credit cards," the priest said.

"Sure you do," I said.

"And you can go to hell for lying," Jason put in.

I turned back to the bishop as he was waving the priest to get the credit card.

"And finally, you will see that Father Colby remains in this parish for as long as he wishes. Do you think you can do that?"

"I believe we can see our way to accomplish all that you've asked," he said in his best bishopric tone.

"Very good," Jason declared, smacking his knees before he shoved himself up out of the chair. We thank you for your cooperation, your understanding, and your charity."

The priest found his legs and showed us out and led us down the long carpeted hallway. Suddenly, Jason stopped and turned around. The bishop was still standing at the open doorway, probably wondering about the wrath that had just been sent down on him.

"You know, Bishop, I think it'd be nice to have a big picnic and invite everyone from that parish."

The man didn't say anything. If we'd been closer, we would have no doubt seen him glaring at us. Jason did get closer. He took several steps back toward the office and the bishop put his hands on the doors as if to close them.

"Just wanted to say....I like your taste in boys," he said with a wink and a smile.

With an audible huff, the bishop pulled the doors shut.

At the door we cordially thanked the priest was no doubt thankful for our departure.

"That went well," Jason said as we were driving down the lane toward the parting gates.

"I hope it all ends well," I said.

He laughed, shaking his head. "You were like a lion in there."

"He touched the wrong buttons," I said.

Chapter Twenty

(All Work and No Play)

For the first three days it was very work intensive, laboring from sunup to sundown. Our crew and the workers from town got better acquainted day by day. A couple of the workers, Benson and Porter, even stayed over several nights, supposedly so they could be there to get an early start. The truth was Benson and Porter had caught on. Others of our own crew were intrigued by a couple of the local townsmen and Oakley managed to ingratiate himself to two teenagers in overalls--Logan and Lonnie-and convinced them to help out. He couldn't find Nolan so he brought them over to me to give them work assignments. I set them to painting. They seemed eager and willing.

I went back to framing an outside window and watching Lonnie stirring a bucket of paint while Logan was undoing the shoulder straps of his overalls. He held the bib up with his chin while he tied the straps around his waist then he let the bib hang over, leaving him beautifully naked from the waist up.

"Mighty easy on the eyes, ain't he?" I looked around to see Porter with a sly grin on his face. "Like a ripe tomato ready to be plucked from the vine. 'Course, Lonnie's already been plucked but Logan's juicy ripe for the pickin'."

I was taken aback for a second till I realized that Porter had caught on. I thought I was busted but I wasn't ready to let on.

"They're both good looking boys," I conceded. "Are they brothers?"

"It's been rumored they've got the same daddy but nobody's owned up to it," he said. He smiled some more. "I'm guessing your boy, Oakley, has already bedded Lonnie. He strikes me as being a fast worker."

"I really don't know him that well," I said.

"But maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree; maybe you're not interested," Porter said.

I was and I had a gut feeling that Porter could deliver the boys. "I was just thinking about their ages," I said, letting my guard down.

"They're both eighteen. Logan just turned."

"Have you ever bedded Lonnie?" I asked outright

He laughed. "About as often as I've bedded my wife."

"Sounds like you started with him early on," I said.

"Around here they start young, we like to say when they start growing hair around their dicks. But I think you're more interested in Logan. Don't blame you. But he's holding out for some reason."

"Maybe he's straight," I said.

"Not the way he keeps eyeing you," he said. "Straight boys don't look at other men like that."

"He's eyeing me?"

"Every chance he gets. I notice things like that. Pays to keep your eyes and ears open, you know. I think all you'd have to do is show him a little special attention."

"I'm curious why you're doing this....trying to set me up with the boy."

"Once he gets his cherry busted he'll want it on a regular basis and you won't be around to give it to him."

"And that's where you come in," I said.

"Yes, but he ain't gonna let just anybody bust his cherry. I don't know if he's even looking to get his cherry picked but he's eyeing you for something."

I took Porter's advice and showed Logan some special attention. I offered him a drink out of my water jug, which he took, and he let some of the cold water run down his bare chest. I told him what a good job he was doing and remarked how he was strong enough to put in a good day's work.

"I never seen so many men working so hard," he said.

"Well, you can include yourself in that," I told him.

We sat side by side on a log eating lunch and I learned a little more about him. He liked to play baseball but they didn't have a team at his school because of the cost. He didn't have a girlfriend, just a girl friend that he sometimes took for walks and she was somebody to talk to. He made good grades but didn't hold out any hope of going to college.

"Are you sure she's just a girl friend?" I asked.

"That's all its ever been," he said. "We grew up together; she's like a sister."

"So you say. But I wonder if you're like a brother to her."

He gave me a frowning scowl. "You think she'd wanta have sex with me?"

"I think if you ever take off your shirt when you're taking one of those walks, she's not seeing you as a brother," I said.

"I don't know....I wouldn't know how to....you know....even get something started."

"Give her a hint and she'll show you."

"I can't say I ever had any feelings like that for her."

Lunch was over all too soon and I took the opportunity to invite him to my room that night so we could continue our talk. He seemed happy that I was taking an interest in him. I told Jason I'd invited him.

"He's pretty shy," Jason said. "I'll get lost, don't wanta spook him."

"Just for a little while; give me some time alone with him," I said.

"To break him in?" he asked with a sly grin.

"Something like that, maybe," I said.

After work I was about to head for the motel but Logan said he needed to go down to the stone bridge and take a bath.

"The stone bridge?"

"Yes, it's an old bridge back in the woods that's not used anymore. Can't take a bath at home in privacy with my brothers and sisters around. I'm the oldest and Pa said they'd be peeking around and liable to see something they're not supposed to see."

"You don't need to do that; you can use my shower," I said.

"I could? I never used a shower before."

"Climb in."

We drove to the motel where I let us in and hung out the Do- Not-Disturb sign. He stood looking all around.

"Wow, that's a big bed. Our whole family could sleep in that bed," he said.

"You want a beer first?" I asked as he was about to untie the shoulder straps from around his waist.

"Yeah, I'd like to try a real beer. I never drank anything but homemade beer and corn whiskey."

I took a beer out of the cooler and handed it to him. He took a long drink.

"That's good stuff," he said, smiling.

"You downed it like you're used to it," I said as. I pressed my beer playfully against his bare stomach.

"AAAHH! That's cold!" he yelped, laughing.

"Here, this hand's warm," I said, flattening my other hand over where I'd put the cold beer.

He instinctively flexed his already tight stomach muscles.

"The shower's in there," I said, nodding toward the bathroom.

"I don't know if I know how to use it; we don't have indoor plumbing," he said.

"Come on, I'll show you." I let him finish his beer, I finished mine then I took him into the bathroom where I showed him how to operate the shower. He stood there, hesitant about taking off his overalls.

"You should go first, it's your shower," he said.

"No, you first; you're my guest," I said.

"I'm not a guest, I'm just working for you," he said.

"No, you're working with me," I said. "There's no reason to be shy around me, Logan. You don't have anything I don't have and you've got a great body, so let's get you out of these overalls," I said as I slipped my hands under the overhanging bib. He was visibly surprised and he turned a little bit red but he let me. I untied the straps and they fell to his sides but he held onto the bib part of his overalls.

"Do you really think I do, have a good body?" he asked timidly.

"I said great body," I said. "A body that any girl would want, even some women. Hell, even some men," I added with a smile.

"Is that the reason you asked me to your room?"

"If you want it to be," I said.

He looked down right after he asked the question and I crooked my finger under his chin to lift his head so I could eyeball him.

"You don't need to be shy with me, Logan, and there's no reason to be afraid," I said as I reached to his sides to undo the last buttons of his overalls. The others were already unbuttoned; had been all day. "Nothing's gonna happen that you don't want to happen. That's a promise. We won't do anything you don't wanta do, we'll do everything you want to do."

"I don't even know if I know what I want to happen," he said, looking me squarely in the eye. His eyes were penetrating, a little fearful, but trusting.

"I won't violate the trust I see in your eyes, Son," I told him. "You are the one in charge here. I'll lead the way, but you're in charge."

"I've never done anything except with my own fist," he said.

"That's pretty normal," I said. "I still use my own fist once in a while."

"You do?"

"Yeah, sometimes your own hand just feels better. Now, come on, let's get in the shower," I said as I peeled of my sweaty shirt.

"You're gonna get in with me?"

"If you'll let me."

"It's not for me to let you, it's your shower," he said.

"No, I said you're in charge. If you don't want......"

"No, I do," he cut in quickly, then turned shy again. "All of this is sort of the reason I came to your room when you asked me."

I tugged the bib from his fingers and let it drop then I finished shoving his overalls down off his lean hips.

"First time I ever took overalls off of a boy," I said.

They fell to the floor, exposing his beautiful body. He was hairless except for the bush around his sizeable cock and a spattering of hair on his thighs. I was struck by the size of his cock, and that the heavy hanging head was free of the generous collar. I didn't say anything but he might have heard me swallow.

I drew the shower curtain back then stepped in the shower with him, easing him under the spray. My eyes raked up and down his backside, his wide shoulders already shaped with hard muscle, his trim waist and his incredibly delectable butt rounded out from his hips. I wondered if he had hair around his asshole. My mouth watered to find out.

"I sure do need to wash up," he said, tilting his face into the shower spray. "I'm so sweaty I must smell like a horse."

"You're a pony, so why not?" I joked.

He was still enjoying the spray and I took the soap and began washing his back and shoulders.

"I can do that; I was just standing under the water," he said.

"No, you go ahead and enjoy the shower spray, I'll wash you," I said. "If you don't care," I added.

"No, I don't. Your hands feel good. Nobody's give me a bath since I was a little boy."

"You feel good, Logan. You've got such a beautiful body. I'm sorry if it embarrassed you for me to call you beautiful but it's the only word to describe you."

"Nobody's ever called me beautiful except my mom when I was a little kid, but it don't embarrass me, hearing you say it 'cause the way you say it, it's like you're expressing appreciation for the male form."

"Well, I am, but for your male form in particular," I said.

"I think you're beautiful, too. I've always liked looking at pictures of those old Roman and Greek statues of older men who are built like powerful gods. You look like one of those men, except your cock is a whole lot bigger. I don't know why they carved those statues with such tiny cocks."

"Well, I've never been compared to a Greek god before."

"So is your friend, Jason. And Oakley. I don't know if I should be saying that about other men and boys but it's true."

"Do you like Oakley?"

"Yes. He's so manly."

"Turn around, I'll do your front," I said.

"I can't."

"Why not?" I asked, although I knew why.

"I'm hard. Your hands gave me a hardon."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of," I said as I clasped my hands on his hips and turned him around. He was so hard his cock was quivering, standing up at quarter-mast with its slight upward curve.

"That is definitely not something to be ashamed of," I said. "You say Oakley is manly? I don't know if he could match that."

"Maybe not there, but he's got way more muscles," he said.

"He's older than you. Give yourself a couple more years." I began soaping up his chest and with a good lather I moved down his stomach. He was tight as a drum. I'd washed down to his waist in back but I decided to go further in front. I first slid my hands around to soap up his butt. That pulled him against me and his cock burned hotly against my stomach. Then I drew my hands around front and began lathering his balls. He closed his eyes and seemed to have trouble breathing. I brought my soapy hands up to his cock.

"Ohhhhh," he moaned softly. "I don't think I should be feeling like this," he said meekly.

"Why not? What are you feeling?" I asked.

"Your soapy hands feel so good."

"Nothing wrong with that. It's a pretty natural reaction. It feels good when you soap up, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but another man's hands......"

"Your cock doesn't know or care if it's your hands or somebody else's."

"I think it does....your hands feel better than mine," he said.

"You know what? Your cock feels good in my hands, too."

"You're not just....washing me, then."

"Not just. I wanted to get my hands on you, Logan. I want this as much as I think you do."

"I didn't know if I did or not. I didn't know what I wanted, I just knew I had these feelings."

"It's okay, it's between us, you can follow your feelings," I said. My own cock had risen to its full potential, brushing against his hip when it throbbed but he pretended not to notice. He never looked down, but kept his eyes focused past me.

Still without looking down he took my cock in one hand and cupped my balls in the other.

"You're so big," he whispered. "I can barely get my hand around it."

"Your hand feels good, on my balls, too," I told him.

Without actually looking down he dropped his eyes to look at my cock in his fist, then he looked back up at me; squarely in my eyes. Godd, those deep penetrating eyes again.

"I wanta do something, Brad," he said in a croaking voice. "I've thought about it so often, and dreamed about it......"

"Go ahead, anything you wanta do," I said.

"I want go down on you. Can I?"

"I would like that very much," I said.

He kept stroking my cock and fondling my balls, his eyes focused on them now. He wet his lips and I saw him swallow.

"Only if you want to, Logan," I said.

"I want to. I never thought I wanted to be queer, but I want to."

"Trying it isn't going to make you queer. Try it and if you don't like it, don't do it."

He was so frightened. I crooked my finger under his chin again and tilted his head up. "You're in charge Logan; we do only what you wanta do. If you want....if it'll make it easier, I wanta suck your cock, too."

"You do?"

"Yes, very much. We can dry off if you want to and go in on the bed and do it together, at the same time."

"That's what they call sixty nine."


"I wanta do that," he said. "But first, here, under the shower, just for a minute."

He went to his knees, leaning to one side to let the shower wash the soap away, then he knelt there, gazing at my cock in his hand. Then he pressed his face into my groin and I felt his tongue licking the hair there.

"Ohh, Logan," I whispered, nearly breathless with anticipation.

After a moment he ran his lips along the shaft of my cock and along the side of the head but then he eased back and stood up.

We finished the shower and I turned off the water. I pulled the shower curtain back and grabbed a towel and wrapped it around him then got a towel for myself.

"I never ever thought I would ever be doing this," he said.

"I'm so glad you're doing it with me first," I told him.

"I feel so dumb, I don't even know what I'm doing."

"Please don't," I said. "Please know that I consider it a great honor to be your first."

I took his towel and tossed it over the curtain bar and then led him into the bedroom. I urged him back across the bed and started to walk around to the other side to climb on myself but I changed my mind. He looked so beautiful and so beautifully innocent lying on the bed. I crawled beside him and covered his upper body with mine. Gazing down into his eyes sent a chill through me. I smiled at him and rubbed my nose against his and that made him smile. I brushed my lips ever so lightly over his, causing him to recoil at first but then he relaxed and I pressed my lips harder on his. He slowly responded and we were soon in a very erotic, passionate kiss. He moaned his pleasure and writhed against me when I pressed my upper body gently on his. I rose up a little as I maneuvered us so that our cocks rubbed together. His moans became louder, more frantic and the next thing I knew he was shooting his load all over both of us. He came with such force and volume that it surprised me. The stuff splattered against my stomach and even hit my chin and following that he pretty much white washed himself, leaving streaks and globs of semen across his chest and stomach and on up to his neck and under his chin.

"Wow!" I said, smiling down at him again. That's when I saw him tearing up. "Hey, what's this?" I asked, swiping at his eyes with my fingertips.

"I didn't mean to shoot so soon," he said.

"It's nothing to cry about. Hell, your cock's still hard, and I'm sure there's plenty more where that came from. It was beautiful, Logan. You cum like a man."

"I never cummed so much before, but you got me so hot and excited."

"I'm glad. Secret? I almost shot off myself, just from my body touching yours. That's how hot you are."

He smiled.

"Have you tasted your own cum?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Do you like it?"

"I don't mind it," he admitted. "It tastes sorta good."

"You mind if I taste it?"


"I wanta do something special," I said.


"I'll show you." I began lapping up the thick ropes and globs of cum from his upper body and scooped up the wonderful glob under his chin. Then as I looked into his eyes again I brushed my lips over his. He recoiled a little but then relaxed. I pressed my lips against his and flicked his with the tip of my tongue. It took a moment for him to let his lips go slack enough for me to shove my tongue through but when I did his mouth grew slack and I fed him his cum. He took it with a little whimpering moan and let out a louder squeal when out tongues lashed about in his mouth, sloshing his warm cum all around.

I rose up a little and said, "Try swallowing some of it."

He did, without hesitation; all of it, in several gulps.

"You swallowed all of it," I said, laughing.

"You said to."

"I said some of it. I wanted some of it myself."

"I'm sorry."

"Not to be sorry, you're producing more as we speak." I rolled over beside him on my side.

"We didn't get to sixty nine," he said.

"I didn't get off and you're still hard, we can do it now if you want," I said, rubbing his stomach.


"You can get on top," I said as I rolled over onto my back.

Logan turned on the bed and straddled me, his knees at my shoulders, his still quivering cock sticking out over my face. When it throbbed it bucked upward to almost touch his stomach. I licked along the underside of the shaft several times before pulling it down to guide it to my mouth. I lifted my head enough to take him all the way to his balls. He was a perfect size and shape for that.

"Ohhhh, that feels so good," he moaned softly.

I sucked him while he toyed with my cock. He stroked it with a loose grip, stretching the skin back till the collar became one with the sheath. I could feel his hot breath, then felt him licking all around the wide rim. I thought he was working up his courage and I clenched my butt muscles to inch my cock against his lips. I knew I was oozing precum and I felt him lick it off. Then he slid his lips down the curvature of my cockhead, locking them around the rim. He let out a little moan as he licked up more precum. I kept sucking him and he followed my lead. He was good without knowing it. I wanted to weep at the feel of his virgin lips paying such innocent homage to my manhood. If his lips never touched another cock, I would cherish these moments of his fading virginity.

He didn't just catch on quickly; he was soon swept up in the man-lust that engulfed us both. He sucked my cock laboriously, with great passion while he fucked my mouth, deep into my throat. I loved his near hairless balls resting on my forehead with each thrust and from time to time I took them in my mouth along with his cock. When I did he ground his loins hard against my face and gouged my throat with his cock. Without being anything more than he was-a horny, curious and eager teenager-he was a delightful sex partner.

He followed my lead to mirror my actions. When I sucked his balls he sucked mine, although he couldn't manage to get them in his mouth. When I kissed deep in his groin, he did the same. But when I released his cock and kissed and licked the start of his ass-crack, he returned to my cock. I played with his butt and explored the split with my spit slick fingers. He liked it but he didn't respond in kind. He flinched a little when I tried to introduce a finger and I backed off. There was time to bring him around, I was sure. I had only to lead him down that path.

"Logan, I want you to sit back on my face," I said.

He rose up and brought his hips back so his butt spread apart over my face. I pulled him apart even more and began licking and tonguing his asshole.

"Ohhh! Ohhhh.....Ohhm, fuck! Ohh, Brad that feels so good! I can't believe you're doing this! Godd, it feels incredible..... Ohhhh....Ohhhhhh.....Ohhhhh, Godd, don't stop!" He cried out as he ground his butt hard on my face, so hard I thought he might break my nose.

I eased him up and maneuvered us onto our sides. "I want to show you this to the fullest," I said as I laid him on his back and stretched out between his legs. I pushed his legs up so his butt was tilted at the perfect angle then I rimmed him. He grabbed his feet and pulled his legs up over his upper body, spreading his ass wider. Very quickly I was able to shove a finger through his hole. His outcry became one of raw pleasure as I drove it in and wagged it around. I thought he might scream when I found his prostate and I grabbed a pillow and tossed it over his face. He couldn't keep quiet but it muffled the noise.

I fingered him unmercifully, with one finger, then two, then three. His hole was opening up nicely for me. I shoved both thumbs n him and stretched it wider and buried my face, driving my tongue way up inside him. He screamed his pleasure.

"You wanta fuck me, don't you?" he gasped.

"Yes, if you want me to," I replied.

"Yes. Fuck me, Brad. I wanta know what it's like. I want your big cock in me."

I used four fingers on him for a moment then rose up and laid my cock over his gaping hole. It looked like it was trying to swallow the head.

"Fuck me, Brad, please, don't tease," he whimpered.

I rose up a little more and pushed my cock against his hole. With little effort I pushed through and slid in with incredible ease. His ass virtually did swallow my cock.

"Ohh, Brad, I think I'm going to faint," he moaned softly.

"It's all right, I'll bring you back. Just relax and enjoy," I told him.

If there was ever a teenager ready to surrender his virginity, Logan was that boy. I'd taken a few cherries in my lifetime and this one was the easiest one I'd ever plucked. I watched our juncture where my cock was sliding back and forth through his hole, his once tiny, once virginal asshole distended around the thick girth.

"You have a beautiful ass," I told him.

"You have such a big cock. It feels wonderful so deep inside me. Have you fucked a lot of boys my age?"

"My share I suppose."

"Could they take your cock all the way?"

"Not all as easily as you did," I said.

"I want you to fuck me as long as you can, all night if you want to," he said.

"I'm long winded," I warned. "But I'll do my best." I leaned up over him and began kissing his chest, nibbling on his nipples.

"Ohhh that feels so good, you'll make me cum."

"I love your tits. Stop me when you feel it coming on."

I sucked his tits till they were getting sore then I worked my way up his neck, along the side of his face and finally to his full, pouting lips. He let me kiss him for a very long time before he eased me away.

"You'll make me cum kissing me, too."

"You're like a little firecracker ready to go off," I chided him. "What keeps you from cumming when I fuck you?"

"My ass is sort of numb inside."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No! It still feels good. I wanta do it all night. Will anyone be coming to your room? Or do you have this big bed all to yourself."

"No, everyone knows to stay away, the bed's all ours."

"So they know you're having sex with me? Godd, I'll be so embarrassed when I leave in the morning if they know."

"They know to stay away, that's all," I said again, "There'll be no need for you to be embarrassed, Logan, because everyone else is doing the same thing. I wanted to have you alone because you're a virgin."

"They are, really? Even Oakley?"

"Oakley is probably doing it more than anyone else, and doing it better," I said, laughing. "You like Oakley, don't you?"'


"Do you want to have sex with him?" I asked.

"Yes, if he wants to. I could now that I know what I'm doing. I would let him fuck me, now that I know how it feels. Do you think he would want to?"

I laughed. "You can count on it," I said. "I'll try to arrange it."

I didn't fuck Logan all night but we had sex most of the night. I fucked him in every position I knew. We sixty-nined. He came around to rimming me. Then I gave him the surprise of his young life by letting him fuck me. He nearly fucked my brains out. He was insatiable and he made me so. I dreaded the sun coming up.

Next morning we showered and got dressed. He liked the shorts I was putting on so I gave them to him. He was delighted even though they were a tad too big. I told him I would send him some in his size. He seemed shy about leaving the room.

"You're still embarrassed," I said.

"Yes, a little."

"Don't be. When you leave, you walk out proud with your head held high."

"I don't know when I'll ever get to do this again," he said with a sad look. "You said you would arrange something with Oakley, but I mean after you all leave."

I started to name Benson and Porter who had caught on to us, and Porter especially, who had clued me in to Lonnie and Logan, but I decided to let that discovery come about as it might.

"Keep your eyes open," I told him. "Watch how men look at you. You'll come to recognize the look. Make eye contact then let them make the move. And Lonnie's had a lot of experience, hasn't he?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Then tag along with him. Anyone he's having sex with will want to have sex with you."

"Thanks you, Brad, for showing me everything. It's been the most wonderful night of my life."

I took him in my arms and tilted his head up to kiss him. He kissed me back. Really kissed me back, and it wasn't just a kiss of thanks and gratitude. It was a kiss of raw passion and barely contained lust.

I released him and turned him towards the door. He went out and I stood back and watched how proudly he walked. He was one happy boy, knowingly properly fucked, without apology. I was proud of him. I noticed too how some of the guys looked at him.

I was not privy to all of the goings on--nobody was--but suffice to say, there was enough banter to confirm that it was hard work during the day and non-stop sex every night. At the end everyone would agree it was the most incredible experience of our lives.

On the last day, with the Browns moved into their new house, the modular was taken back to the dealership. The townspeople, along with Father Colby, gave us a proper sendoff. We sat around a bonfire of the scrap lumber and ate a supper made by the ladies of the town. It was meager yet the most loving gesture I'd ever experienced.

We would be staying one more night before heading back the next morning so we had our own sendoff planned, to include Benson and Porter and a couple of other men who had come out from town to help out. I had not spoken to Oakley yet about Logan but I spoke to Porter about the two teenagers coming to our little gathering. He said he could cover for them with their parents; him being there too, they would trust him to take good care of them. Perfect, I thought, Logan would get full exposure with Porter and possibly Benson and therefore have the outlet for the sex he so longed for after we left.

But I wanted one more chance with Logan. I quietly told him to linger back after work and he could ride back to the motel with me. When everyone else had left the worksite I told him I asked him to take me to the stone bridge.

"All right, but why?" he asked with a confused look.

"I wanta use your shower."

He was happy that I was taking an interest in his life. We trekked through the thick woods that I would've surely gotten lost in but he knew the way. He probably knew every tree and rock and blade of grass. We followed the creek that was so crystal clear I wondered if it served as drinking water. I asked him.

"It's not our water source.....we've got wells for that....but if we happen to get a mouthful when we're swimming, we don't spit it out and we don't get sick."

Around a curve in the creek I tore my eyes away from Logan to see the stone bridge up ahead. Spanned over the rushing water, it looked ancient.

"This is a work of art," I said.

"It's just a bridge," he said. "It's been here all my life, and my grandpa talks about it being here when he was a boy."

"So this is where you bathe."

"Yeah, since I started growing hair around my dick," he said. "That's when my mom said I needed privacy. Actually, my uncle told her and she told me he said it."

"When was that, when you started growing hair around your dick?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know, just past twelve I guess. I could cum, I remember."

"That's a pretty early start breaking into manhood," I said. He shrugged again, as if it was no big deal. "It's beautiful back here. I can see why you come here."

"I'm about the only one who does. I probably never ever seen more than a half dozen people when I'm back here. Which is fine with me. One time it was two girls. My sister blabbed that I bathed back here and they sneaked back to watch. I pretended I didn't know they were there but I could hear them whispering and giggling. I just showed them everything. I even showed them my hardon."

"I'm surprised you didn't get raped," I joked.

"I think they told girls back at school about how big my cock is. I sure got a lot of attention from some girls after that. So, do you wanta get in? The water's gonna be cold but you get used to it pretty quick."


He started to unhook the shoulder straps of his bib overalls but I brushed his hands away.

"I don't know what it is but I love taking your bibs off of you," I said.

"I don't mind you doing it, either," he said as he dropped his arms to his sides and let me unhook the straps and unbutton the remaining two buttons on each side. They fell to his ankles, leaving him beautifully naked. "Godd, you are hot," I said as I squatted down to help him off with the overalls. I was down there face to face with his manhood and I couldn't resist leaning in to plant kisses all around. I stood up then, leaving his cock rising.

"Now you," he said as he reached for my belt. But I stopped him.

"Go out in the creek," I told him. He looked at me funny. "I want to watch you in your natural habitat while I slowly undress."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. He didn't seem disappointed; I think he just thought I was being weird.

He waded out several feet then dive under. He came up several yards away, shooting out of the water like a rocket. I watched him as he swam and cavorted around while I took off my clothes. By the time I was naked, I was hard.

"Are you coming in?" he called out.

"Come back to the edge," I said.

He swam then waded back to the creek bank and I guided him up till he was standing only ankle deep in the water. His cock had dipped from the cold water. I moved around in front of him.

"It's so beautiful back here, and you are part of that beauty," I told him. "You're like a forest god in his natural habitat."

"I'm no god," he said, blushing.

"You are to me, and gods are made to be worshipped." With that I knelt down in the rushing water and grasped his left foot. I brought it up out of the water and began kissing it. I knew he thought I was crazy but I was compelled to do it; I'd never demonstrated such homage to another man before, not even Jason; not like this. He let out a little groan when I began sucking his toes.

"Ohh, fuck!" he gasped. He liked it. He could barely hold his toes still. "Awww, I didn't know I had feelings like that in my toes."

I let his foot back down in the water and he lifted the other one up for me. From there I kissed up his calves and all around his knees and then on up his thighs. At the apex I lavished his balls with kisses and he pushed them into my face. I rose up from a squat and kissed up his stomach. His hard abs rippled and danced under my touch. Finally I stood erect, kissing his chest and nibbling on his nipples. He put his hands around my head. I kissed across to his armpits. When I faced him, he pulled me into a kiss.

"Tell me what you want to do," I said.

"We probably don't have time to do everything I want to do."

"Tell me."

"I want to worship your body like you did mine. I want to suck your cock. I want us to sixty-nine, and have you fuck me. I want one more time of everything we've done before you go."

"I'm glad you said that," I said with a smile. "But you left out me sucking your cock and you fucking me."

He still took charge. He took my hand and led me downstream a little ways to a large, smooth rock.

"You can lay back on this. It's nice and warm."

I lay back and rested my head on the thick moss that grew on one side and he knelt down between my legs. I lifted my head to watch him lick my cock all over then take it in his mouth. It was a sight every man should see at least once in his lifetime.

"Awww, Logan," I moaned softly. "That is so good."

"Better than my first time, I bet," he said with a smile.

"Nothing is better than the first time," I said.

He sucked me for a while then rose up. "You said you wanted to suck me, so if you wanta get me off, then I'll fuck you. I can last a lot longer after I've shot my first load."

"Yes," I agreed readily.

We changed places on the rock and I gave him a wonderful blow job with some rimming thrown in. He shot his load when I was rimming him, all over himself. I licked it up and swallowed it. It was truly nectar from the god he was. He rose up and turned me around facing the rock.

"There's a groove in the rock where you can lay your cock. It's nice and smooth. I sometimes hump the rock and cum in the groove."

I laid over the rock on my stomach with my cock fitted perfectly in the warm, smooth groove. Logan mounted me and gave me his best fuck. I couldn't believe how far he'd come in such a short time since giving up his virginity. He was awesome. He surprised me even more when rimmed me immediately after he'd shot his load in my ass and then kissed me and fed it to me.

"You are really turned on today," I said.

"It's your fault. You're the only one I can do all of this with."

"Not for long," I said.

Logan was insatiable. I told him he should save some of his sexual energy till later back at the motel but he said he would have a full head of steam for that.

We were late getting back to the motel. Guys asked where we'd been but we didn't answer them. They knew.

Everyone was crowded into our room

Back at the motel we crowded into our room-Jason's and mine-it being the largest, with the king bed. There were fourteen of us. We were minus Father Colby and the younger ones. Colby thought it would be unseemly for him to be included and Benson voiced concern about including the younger boys. After their initial disappointment in not being included with the men they seemed okay that we set them up in another room with the television and two beers apiece, and each other.

Porter and Benson had stopped off and picked up three cases of cold beer. One round pretty much wiped out the first case because we included the younger boys; Jesse, Luke and Aaron. We sent Lonnie and Logan with a cooler for ice.

Without any kind of announcement everyone started shedding their clothes and stuffing them in the drawers. Someone remarked that it was already getting warm in the room but there were no real pretenses; everybody knew why we were there. There was barely room to move without brushing against each other but that was the point.

When Logan and Lonnie came back lugging the cooler full of ice Oakley took it from them and handed it off to someone else then he pushed the two boys in the corner. I had clued Oakley in that Logan was ripe for the picking, that he really wanted to have sex with him, Logan, and Lonnie.

"You boys are lagging behind, you're overdressed," he said as he started taking off their clothes.

The younger teens were, of course, the main attraction, each of them with his own offering of sexual desirability. Oakley with his muscular physique and rather bawdy personality; Lonnie with his backwoods charm and Logan, still bearing the mantle of virginity despite all the sex we'd had. The rest of the men-our boys-were certainly taking advantage of seeing each other again after Thanksgiving. Someone said later that we should've kept a tally of who got fucked and how many times, and how many loads of cum were shot.

Someone else laughed and said, "That would've taken a full time score keeper and who was going to miss out on all the fun just to keep score."

It would be impossible to track everything going on in the room--or a better storyteller than me to write it-suffice to say it was raw, unbridled, non-stop sex. I can only attest to what I took part in and what I witnessed.

When I went into the bathroom Adam was fucking Oakley in the shower. When I came out, Jordan had Nolan's partner, Levi, bent over the end of the dresser, fucking his eyeballs out.

I saw that Lonnie was not yet taken; he had been, by Oakley and Logan both, but he was by himself now. He smiled when I laid a hand on his shoulder and he let me guide him to the bed where he stretched out beside Jason and Adam. With no encouragement from me he brought his legs up so tight that his knees were against his shoulders. With that much boldness I thought he didn't need any preparation and moved up over him and entered him with surprising ease. I fucked him hard and deep while sucking his sizeable teenage cock.

Benson and Porter were intrigued by Will from the start and they had him in a corner by the window, Benson on his knees sucking his enormous cock and Porter in back, rimming his tight, round ass. Will maneuvered them to the bed where Benson stretched out and willingly gave himself to the big black stallion while his friend, Porter sucked his cock. I was surprised to hear Benson groaning and moaning about being a virgin.

Kyle brought Logan over to the bed and he crawled in between me and Lonnie and Benson, on his hands and knees and Kyle mounted him from behind. It was such a thrill to see my own son in action right beside me. I didn't have a full view but moments later I saw a pair of legs come up in the air and then Levi rose up over whoever it was to drive his cock in him.

Braden seemed to be standing back, like he was trying to choose where he would fit in. So was Nolan, on the other side of the room, till Braden moved around to him where they came together in a tight hug in front of the window.

"It's been too fuckin' long," one of them said.

"Yeah, and I've missed it," said the other.

Partners were exchanged throughout the night. I had no idea who all we teamed up with and I doubted anyone else did either. I got passed around myself and I had to think to remember all the partners I had. Needless to say, it was a night never to be forgotten.

Next morning we began loading up then said our goodbyes. Benson and Porter were ready and waiting for Lonnie and Logan to say goodbye to everyone so they could ride back with them. I wondered if they had been fucked by everyone they said goodbye to. I saw the two boys heading towards Benson's pickup but suddenly Logan came back in the room where Jason and I were checking the room one last time. When Logan came in Jason left us alone.

"I wanted to say a special goodbye," the boy said.

"Yes, it has been special," I said.

"You taught me so much; I'll never forget you, Brad," he said.

"No, you won't, I won't let you. I'm going to send you a package with some sexy underwear, remember?"

"I can't wait."

I smiled. "It looked like you put everything you learned to good use last night."

"I never dreamed anything like last night could ever happen in real life, especially to me," he said.

"That was a first for me, too. A first for everybody, I'm sure." I ruffled his hair. "How many times did you get fucked?"

"Six times! It was great! I wish one of those times had been you, but it didn't work out that way. Levi fucked me, though. Godd, he's gorgeous, and I couldn't believe what a huge cock he has. Oakley fucked me, too. He is so hot! He's rough but it was good. And I let Lonnie do it, and he let me fuck him. Benson and Porter both fucked me so now, with Lonnie, I'll have somebody to have sex with. The best was with Kyle, knowing he's your son."

"I'm glad you had such a great time," I said.

"I came back in to tell you a special goodbye, Brad....I wanta kiss you goodbye and I didn't wanta do it in front of everyone."

I kicked the door shut and took the boy in my arms. He felt so good and he was so passionate. I felt him hardening and I eased us apart.

"They're gonna know how special our goodbye was," I joked.

"When you send the package can I use the return address and write to you?"

"Yes, I would like knowing what's going on in your life."

Just then the door opened. It was Kyle, wondering where I was.

"We're getting ready to pull out, Dad," he said, and closed the door again.

I gave Logan a peck on the forehead and we left the room. Outside, we finished our goodbyes and everyone went his own way. I was saddened by the sad look on Logan's face when he climbed in Benson's truck.

Jason and I were the last to leave. I was driving.

"Geezuss, what the hell happened last night," he said.

"I doubt anybody will ever figure it out. It'd be mind boggling to put the pieces together," I said.

"Well, while you're working on that, I'm going to sack out. Those young bucks damn near killed me."

I didn't stop till it was time for lunch, when I pulled into a truck stop. It was funny; Jason was so beat that he didn't notice the waitresses or a couple of truckers taking notice of him. After lunch he took the wheel. I was still thinking about last night, and specifically about Logan.

"Would you be hurt if I took a young lover?" I asked. It was out of the blue, even for me.

He smiled, without looking around. "No more hurt than I am surprised," he said.

"I meant if you happen to go first," I said.

"By the time I go, do you think you'll be able to handle a young lover?" he chided me. Then he asked with a mischievous grin, "You got anybody in mind?"

"No, just thinking out loud."

"You lie. You're talking about that young stud, Logan. Thing is, by the time I'm dead and gone he probably won't be a young stud anymore. So why wait? You want a young lover on hand, send for him."

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-One

(After Appalachia)

After Appalachia our life was back to normal. Some would say boring but it was how we wanted it. Over coffee with Judge Thompson we told him we would no longer be taking in stray kids. I knew we would, of course, if one showed up, but we didn't want the judge sending them our way. I was satisfied with the quiet normalcy of our lives but it made Jason restless. His forays out at night became more frequent. I might have been jealous, knowing that he was meeting a young waitress at the truck stop but I wasn't. I was sad that I still couldn't fill the emptiness in him but I wasn't jealous. I knew part of the cause was Vietnam; it followed him from there and never let go. But I knew it wasn't my fault and it wasn't his. It was who he was; who he'd always been, and I signed on for that. Some of it was still inside me but it was buried deeper.

Sometimes he asked me if I wanted to go with him. That's the way he phrased it-did I want to go. I always went because I knew in truth that he was asking me to go. He wanted me with him. Maybe it was a small way that I could fill the emptiness. Some evenings we went out for supper. Other times we went to the truck stop and sat and drank coffee and talked. The conversations always got around to Vietnam and our younger days.

One night I woke up and he wasn't in bed. It was after he'd come home from the truck stop. When I didn't find him in the house I knew where he was. I slipped on my boots and walked back to the woods, following my shadow cast by the moonlight. He was lying beside the creek in his sleeping bag, his upper body bared, his hands clasped under his head.

"I don't mean to intrude," I said.

"You're not," he said as he laid the top of the sleeping bag open, inviting me to join him.

I bent over to untie my boots. I kicked them aside and started to get in the sleeping bag.

"The shorts, too," he said.

I pulled my shorts off and tossed them with my boots.

"I never used to check on you when you went out but it's different now," I said as I crawled in the sleeping bag with him. He didn't' ask me to explain and I didn't.

He put an arm out for me to lie on and pulled me in close. I wasn't cold but he felt warm against me. His muscular arm still didn't make a good pillow but I didn't complain. He felt good.

"I don't want you to feel like you don't make me happy; you do," he told me.

"I know. I want you to stop feeling guilty," I said.

"I don't love her. She knows I don't love her," he said.

"There's nothing wrong with that, as long as you have that understanding," I said.

"What I can't figure out is why she wants to be with me when there are younger studs hitting on her all the time."

"Don't try to figure it out. You never did understand and you never will," I said.

"Understand what?"

"I'm not sure I can explain it. It's so many things. One of the boys said one time that you were gruffer than me, but he saw through you. They all did. I think that's partly it, when people see through that rough and tough exterior. There's a magnetic draw. A super confident bearing that would make a girl feel safe. You're not all that hard to look at, and the body helps."

"I'm old enough to be her father."

"Do you think she's looking for a father figure?"

"No. She told me those young studs don't know what they're doing in bed."

"Well if you're giving her that, I wouldn't worry about the age difference. She obviously isn't."

"Well, we sort of closed the age gap tonight," he said.

"How so? You're both still the same age," I said.

"We had company."

"A three way?"

"You could say that."

"That's a first, isn't it?"

"For us, yeah."

I wanta hear this," I said.

As Told By Jason

I didn't ask Brad to go with me to the truck stop. It was one of those times when I wanted to wallow in my thoughts. I intended to get laid, too, and nights I wanted to get laid I didn't ask Brad along. He understood without anything being said. I figured I would have supper then sit and drink coffee while I waited for her shift to end. I'd just sat down when this young dude walked in. The way he walked made me take notice. He was wearing a baseball cap atop a buzzed haircut that was neatly trimmed along the back of his thick neck, and worn jeans with slits at the bottom of the legs to accommodate his work boots. Up top he had on a white T-shirt with STEEL MAN across the front in big, bold letters. He didn't look the braggart type but he had an air of confidence about him. He wasn't a bodybuilder type but he was very well built; thick chest; flat, hard stomach, good shoulders and arms and his thighs filled out his jeans.

When he walked by me we made eye contact and I couldn't resist; I asked, "Is that a fact?" eyeballing his shirt.

"It was last year when I won the shirt," he said, not in a cocky way, but just stating fact.

"Looks like you could win it again if you tried," I said, eyeing him up and down.

"I'd have to go all the way to Alaska," he said.

"Military? You've got a military bearing," I said.

"No, but probably soon," he said.

"Sit down, I'll buy your supper in advance," I said.

"I can't let you do that but I'll have a seat. You're military?" he asked as he slid in the booth.

"Was, but that was back in the civil war."

He laughed and put his hand across the table. "Track Wilson."

"Jason Seaborne." He had a good grip. "What's in Alaska where you won the shirt?" I asked.

"I worked in a lumber camp. There was a contest; climbing trees, lifting logs and boulders, a two mile run through the woods, log rolling and the last event was fighting. Not boxing, more street fighting, with some wrestling thrown in. They called it lumberjack fighting."

"Well, you're built for all of those events," I said.

"You think?" he said, laughing. "You should've seen some of these big bruisers. But luckily there were points for each separate event. I got creamed in the log rolling but I maxed out points on the other events."

"Including lumberjack fighting?" I asked.

He laughed again, shaking his head. "I knew I was gonna die when I saw who I drew in that event. He was like a Black Angus bull. But all that beef worked to his detriment. I was quicker and I managed to land some good punches and then dodge out of his way." He paused when the waitress came to take our orders.

"What can I get for you, stud?" she asked.

"Him first," Track said.

"It's Thursday, I know what he's having," she said.

"Okay, I'll have a hamburger, loaded, fries and a double milk on ice."

I motioned for her to hold up.

"You heard the lady, it's Thursday. How about two T-bones, fries and a double milk on ice," I said.

"I'm a working man, I can't afford steak."

"I said I'm buying."

"And I said I can't let you do that," he shot back.

I smiled and motioned for her to wait. "You're put together damn good, but I ain't no Black Angus bull; my beef don't work to my detriment."

She didn't wait for the outcome of our little challenge. "This fight's over before it's even started; you're getting T-bones," she told him.

He craned his neck to watch her walk away. "Damn, talk about being put together," he said. Then he said across the table, "Are you doing her?"

"Gentlemen don't tell," I said.

"Fuck that, tell me. Are you doing her?"

"On occasion," I admitted. "But don't spread that around."

"Mann!!" he exclaimed quietly as he looked around again.

"Hey, she's not a pass-around-Patty," I said.

"Sorry. I wasn't implying that. Is she someone special? I'm sorry if I was out of line."

"She might be special to a lot of guys but I don't care. That's her business. She's special to me when we're together and that's all that counts."

"I meant no disrespect. I would treat her with respect. Do you think I'd have a chance with her?"

"Don't know, but I doubt it," I said. "She told me one time young guys don't know what they're doing in bed."

"I'd like a chance to convince her to reconsider," he said.

"Well, that'd be up to her."

"But you could put in a good word," he said.

"I don't know what I could say. I just met you, and I don't know how you are in bed."

"Okay, but don't you think I deserve a chance to prove myself?"

"Knock yourself out when she brings our steaks," I said.

"But what about you? She's not gonna toss you aside for me."

"That she's not," I agreed. "But you're welcome to give it your best shot."

When she delivered our steaks he made his move.

"Ma'am, I hope you won't think I'm out of line if I say I think you're beautiful."

Wow! He didn't hold back.

"No woman would think that's out of line," she said, "but coming from you, it is sort of like something you'd say to your mother when she's dressed up on Easter Sunday."

"No, Ma'am, and I could say a lot more but my mother did raise me to be a gentleman."

"Well, your mama's not here so why don't you give it your best shot," she said, putting her hand on her hip.

"No man could help noticing how you're put together," he said.

Ouch! I wanted to see her reaction to that.

"For a woman my age, you mean," she said dryly.

"No, Ma'am. You make age irrelevant."

She turned to me with a big smile. "He's good," she said.

"So, I'm gonna go out on a limb," he went on. "Would you consider going out with me?"

"You mean on a date?" She eyed him up and down. "You're not so hard to look at, and you're put together pretty damned well yourself....you can't find girls your own age to take out?"

"I don't have any trouble getting dates but I'd like a change of pace."

"In other words, those sweet young things aren't keeping up with you, is that it?"

"Something like that. But I wasn't making reference to anything out of line. I think you'd be fun to be with. I think we could have a good time. Do you like to dance? I'm a good dancer. I could show you some moves."

"Oh, I bet you could," she said. She looked at me. "Good lord, I haven't been hit on like this since you made your pitch. It's too damned bad it's Thursday."

"Hey, don't let Thursday stand in the way," I said. "We can make it another time. He just wants a chance to prove you wrong."

"Wrong about what?" she asked with a scowl.

"What you said about young guys not knowing what they're doing," he put in.

"Well, I can see you two have been talking," she said.

"Nothing out of line," he said quickly. "He holds you in the highest regard, and so do I. If I had said anything out of line, he would've decked me."

"Oh, you think he would, huh?"

"I know he would."

"You two are both so full of shit," she said, laughing. "But I like it. I like you," she said to Track. She dug in her pocket and handed her keys to me. "When you're finished eating, take my car and go to my apartment, draw my bath and light the candles. You stay put," she said to Track. "You can drive me home, he can bring you back to get your vehicle."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

When I was finished eating I went up to pay. "Are we both thinking what I think we're thinking?" I asked her.

"Taking nothing away from you, Jason, but the boy deserves a chance," she said. "And he's hot."

"That he is," I agreed.

"So you don't mind if it's three of us?"

"You know my gate swings both ways, I've never made a secret of that."

"I know but I've never been able to picture it."

I grabbed my overnight bag out of my pickup then got in Lisa's car. Her apartment was in the Country Apartments complex, well outside of town and only five miles from the truck stop. I let myself in and grabbed a quick shower and flushed out, thinking-hoping--I might find myself in a position to accommodate the young stud, Track. He didn't strike me as being the type but one could never tell. Most said I didn't either. I used some good smelling body splash and slipped on a pair of clean briefs from my overnight bag. Then I drew her bath. I turned the hot water on low and added a small amount of bath oil that she liked. I lit the candles in the bathroom and the six large candles in the bedroom; ones I'd bought for her. She loved the smell of lavender and vanilla. When I heard them coming in I added the bubble bath; Lily of the Valley, another favorite that I'd bought for her. One last thing, I removed the towels from her bathroom.

I couldn't help noticing the gleam in her eyes when they came in together, and Track's laid back demeanor had given way to an air of excitement and anticipation. He seemed surprised to see me in my shorts.

"Well, I see you're ahead of the game," Lisa remarked.

"Just wanted to be out of the way," I said. Then to Track, "The shower's in there."

"It smells good in here," he said.

"Lily of the Valley, my favorite," she said. "Jason bought it for me. He spoils me so."

"It's not that, I like for you to smell good," I said.

"And don't we know why," she said, laughing. "Did you put the bath oil in my water?"

"Yes, Ma'am. You know I like your skin smooth and supple."

"Should I go ahead and get in the shower? I don't want to be in the way," Track asked.

"You won't be, it's separate from her bathroom," I said.

I helped Lisa into the tub then left her. Sometimes I got in with her, other times she wanted to be alone. Since she didn't invite me, I left her alone and went out to wait in the living room.

I was left secretly breathless when Track came out of the other bathroom wearing very brief, clinging boxers. They were high on the thigh and low at the hairline and bulging in front.

"Man, that felt good. That shower is almost sensual," he said, seemingly unaware of his own physical presence. "Listen, I'm sure she's used to seeing you like that but should I put something on? Is this too in-your-face?"

"It'd just be that much more you have to take off," I told him. Then I grabbed up the towels I'd removed from Lisa's bath. "Here, take these in to her," I told him.

"Me? She....she's in the tub."

"And that would be a problem because?"

"I....I d-don't want to intrude. She obviously wants her privacy, you're out here."

"She does value her solitude but she's going to need towels," I said.

He didn't stay long in the bathroom and when he came out his face was flushed.

"That woman should not be a waitress," he said, sounding a little out of breath. "She should be on the cover of a magazine. Just like that, in a bathtub, advertising shampoo or bubble bath or something."

I smiled. "You are smitten. She's old enough to be your mother, you know."

"I meant it when I said she makes age irrelevant. We're going to have sex, right? Is it going to be the three of us?"

"I think that's the plan, although I don't know exactly what combination. That'll be up to her," I said.

"I know you're used to her, but I'm so nervous I don't know if I can," he said. "I'm no virgin but I've never felt this way around a woman before. Geezuss, what if I can't?"

"Dude, calm down. She's not going to eat you alive. Don't worry, it'll all come back to you," I chided him.

"Listen, you said you like her to smell good with that Lily of the Valley stuff, and she said don't we know why. I got the idea that....that she....is she gonna want me to eat her pussy?"

"She might invite you to partake of the delicacy," I said.

"Oh, Godd, I've never done that. I've never even got that close up....I mean it's all been feeling....."

"You do know about a woman's clit, don't you? Her love button?" I asked.

"Yes, I've felt it on a couple of girls."

"Don't worry, I'll show you if it comes to that," I said.

"I just want to make her happy. And not just to prove she's wrong about young guys not knowing what they're dong. I really want to make her happy, for her, not to prove anything."

"Have you ever made a woman have an orgasm?" I asked.

"I don't know for sure. I think I have, but you know how they say women sometimes fake it."

"You know that little love button you've felt on a couple of girls? You use a little tongue on it and I guarantee you will know. You'll have her screaming with pleasure."


"Damn straight," I said.

"Godd, I can hardly wait. But....where will you fit into all of this? I mean, she's your woman, and we're talking like she's my date."

"Don't worry, I'll work my way in," I said with a chuckle. "Look, Track, you're getting all worked up over nothing. This is not a date in the sense that you have to win her over. Consider it a fuck date, just don't say I said that."

"There's something else. I hate to sound like a kid, but....well there are three of us and you said you don't know what combination, that it'd be up to her to call the shots. She wouldn't ask you and me to....you know....I mean, have you ever been in a three way with her and been asked to do something with the other guy?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Fuck, I don't know if I could do that....suck your cock or something. If she wanted me to suck your cock and I didn't want to, do you think she might not let me fuck her?"

"I never try to second guess Lisa," I said. "Anyway, sucking a cock isn't so bad, especially if it makes her happy."

"Shit, I need to go splash cold water on my face," he said, as he rushed back to the bathroom.

Meanwhile Lisa came into the living room in a beautiful beige bath gown, also something that I'd bought for her, her head wrapped in a towel. I laughed softly.

"What's that for?"

"The boy is nervous as a whore in church," I said as I fixed our drinks.

"With all he's got going for him I can't imagine why."

"You," I said. "He is smitten like I've never seen smitten. He's so scared he's afraid he won't be able to perform."

"He doesn't have to perform, he just does what comes naturally for any boy his age. Don't worry, the testosterone will kick in at the right time."

I smiled. "I swear, Leesie, it sounds like you've guided more than one nervous boy through his rite of passage." She shrugged me off. "He's right, you know," I said.

"About what?"

"He saw you in the tub and he said you should not be a waitress; you should be doing ads for bath oil, shampoo or bubble bath and the like. And seeing you like this with the robe pulled back from your legs and all of that cleavage showing, I have to agree; even throw in ladies lingerie and robes."

"Well, he's star struck; you've seen me like this before."

"But he's seeing you in a different light, and he's made me see you differently. There's something else....he's a little scared of where the three-way might go, you know, with two guys."

She laughed. "Well, I don't think we ought to try to convert him but I do think he should have a little man sex to round out his experiences."

Just then Track came in the room, back from splashing cold water on his face. He stopped in his tracks.

"Good lord!" It came out a gasp.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," I said.

"No, I'm seeing an angel." He seemed out of breath. "I swear, Lisa-may I call you that?-I've never seen anything quite so breath taking as I'm seeing right now."

"You're here, Track, you don't have to flatter me," she said. "Jason, fix him a drink to calm his nerves. And freshen mine."

I made two drinks and held them out to Track. "This one's hers," I said, holding her glass out first.

He took the glasses and went over to the couch. He still had the cocky, confident air about him but his steps seemed to be measured. Lisa took her drink and patted the cushion next to her for him to sit down. He did, on the edge of the cushion, and took several sips of his drink.

"You look like you're going to cut and run; sit back and relax," she told him, and when he did, she put her arm around him to pull him in tight. He almost spilled his drink. She took it from him and set on the end table. "Have a sip of mine," she cooed as she put her hand around the back of his head to pull him closer to the glass which she was holding very close to her chest. She let him have a couple of sips then moved the glass, leaving him face to face with her considerable cleavage. When she twisted around to put her glass on the table the robe pulled away from her left tit. He had a deer-in-the-headlights look that was almost funny except that he looked so scared. There was a little gush of wind that went out of him and he sucked it back in.

"I don't know what's wrong....this has never happened before....I'm not even hard," he said in a weak voice.

Lisa was wonderful. She said, "You don't have to be yet," as she gently pulled his face to her tit.

He gaped at it for a moment with his mouth open then went for it with a contented moan that sounded like a baby going for its mother's tit. Lisa looked over at me and smiled. I groped my shorts and smiled back. If she devoted the entire night to Track, this was going to be worth it.

He quickly found his way back; he fumbled with the tie on her robe and it fell open, leaving her naked except for her shoulders and one big, rough hand began exploring her nakedness as he kissed and suckled both of her tits. I'd never seen anybody so hungry for tit. I couldn't remember ever being so hungry for tit. I waited and watched as he explored her body. I well knew the feel of it fresh out of her bath, smooth and supple from the bath oil. He explored her inner thighs, moving up from her knee till he found her pussy. His hand stopped.

"You're smooth!" he exclaimed quietly. "Oh, Godd!" I thought that was from him remembering what I'd told him about a woman's clit.

He rose up from her tits to peer down at his discovery then looked back up at her.

"I...I've never done it before but....I will if you want me to."

"Only if you want to," she cooed. She'd been feeling his muscles too and she slid her hand down his hard stomach to his shorts. She felt him and smiled. "I thought you said you weren't hard."

"I don't know what happened," he said happily. "I wanta do it, Lisa. I wanta give you the big O."

"That can be a pretty tall order," she said.

I didn't think he heard her; he was on his way down, off the couch, on his hands and knees between her legs. He was eager and he wasn't afraid. He buried his face between her legs and began licking her pussy like a mother cat licking her kitten. I knew from experience how good she would smell and taste. I smiled and Lisa smiled back just before she closed her eyes with a soft moan. He stayed on his hands and knees; he didn't use his hands at all. Suddenly her mouth flew open and I knew he'd found her clit. He knew it too and he gave it his best. Lisa clamped her hands on his head and humped her pussy up against his face. I loved the look on her face; I'd seen it often enough myself but not from this vantage point. I could see the head of steam building up; her breathing, the look of almost horrified ecstasy. In another minute or two she was going to explode. But he eased off to get some air and she floated back down. He looked up at her.

"I love doing this, Lisa, I really do, but I'm hard as a board."

"Let your cock do the work, give your tongue a rest," she said.

"Oh, it wasn't work, Lisa, but I need to fuck so bad," he said as he got to his feet.

"Oh, my lord," she gasped when she saw his cock

I did a doubletake myself. "Jeezuss, no wonder you're hard as a board; that's a two by four," I said. The kid was easily as big as me and it dwarfed her hand like mine did when she reached for it. He cringed then gently shoved her hand away.

"I don't think I can do it, I'm afraid I'll cum before I get it in," he whimpered.

"So what," she said. "Your board's not gonna fall off if you do. We'll just wait till it comes back up." She took hold of his cock again and tugged it towards her pussy. He was still cringing as he hunkered down and let her set the head of his cock against the pouting lips.

"Oh, Godd!" he whispered as he pushed through. "Oh, Godd! You are so beautiful. I can't believe you're letting me do this." He went to his knees as he slid all the way in and leaned over her with both arms around her waist and butt.

"Ohhhh, you really are a man of steel," Lisa moaned.

"If you want me to do anything different, just tell me," he said.

"You're doing just fine. I love those slow, deep strokes."

"I wish I could go deeper for you."

"No, no, you're going plenty deep enough," she assured him.

He was going along fine. My mouth was watering watching his butt muscles power his big cock. It was better than watching porn. Suddenly the muscles started to twitch and the tremors quickly spread all through him till he was trembling like an earthquake. He was cumming!! He buried his face in her tits to muffle his choked cries. It was a long hard cum. His muscular body gradually relaxed and he just lay there over her for a long moment before he pushed himself up.

"That's never happened before. I am so sorry," he said, looking right in her eyes. "I guess you're right after all; maybe younger guys don't know what they're doing."

"You've got nothing to apologize for. It's not over," she said. "The night is young."

"No, it's not over," he said sternly. "I said I was going to give you a big O, and I'm going to." With that he pulled his cock free and moved down between her legs. I was amazed to see him bury his face in her pussy again, disregarding the moments before when he'd pumped her full of his cum. Lisa let out a little squeal when he found her clit.

Track was still filled with passion for the woman. He licked at her gaping pussy and this time he spread her lips apart with his fingers to get at her clit and get his tongue inside her. He rose up once and gazed at her and I could see his face wet with his own cum.

"This is so wonderful," he said. "I love doing this almost as much as fucking."

"I love it too, Steel Man. You make a woman feel so special."

"You are special," he said. "I wanta make you feel so special that you can't stand it anymore, and if you pass out I'll still be licking your pussy when you come to."

My Godd, where was this kid coming from! He was good and I was sure he would change Lisa's mind about younger guys not knowing what they were doing. This kid could write the book. To add some spice he alternated between eating her pussy and fucking her. She didn't know what the next moment would bring. He fucked her with moves I seldom seen. The way he twisted his hips around and corkscrewed into her drove her up the walls. The next minute he was down there eating her pussy. I used that technique myself but it was just as much fun watching him do it. I was aching to get in on it but I didn't want to distract him.

He got her off and she damn near did pass out. She was like a mad woman all through her climax and he had to hold her down to keep his face in her pussy. He stopped only when I told him he should, when she was limp and gasping for air.

"I hope I satisfied her," he said as he reared back on his haunches, wiping his cum smeared face with the back of his hand.

"I think you more than satisfied her," I told him.

She said the night's young. Do you think she'll want more or should I just leave? I'd sure like to give it another try and show her what I can do. I never shot off so quick like that before."

"You should absolutely not leave," I said. "I think you showed her what you can do, Steel Man. I don't know many men who would eat a woman's pussy after he just shot a load in it. That takes a real man."

"Have you ever done that with her?" he asked.

"Yes. Now, go shower, I'll see to Lisa."

I went over to the couch and held her in my arms. The boy's cum was still draining out of her pussy. I held her till she came back then I leaned down and kissed her.

"I owe that boy an apology," she said.

"He figures he owes you one."

"You know I've been around the barn a few times."

"Yeah, I've chased you a lot of those times," I said.

"I never had a one of them his age perform like that. I thought he really was going to drive me out of my mind; I was counting on you bringing me back. Where is he? Did he leave?"

"No, he's in the shower. He wants another chance to prove himself."

"My Godd, he's got nothing to prove."

"Well, let him, anyway," I said. "Do you want me to help you to your bath?"

"Yes, I would like to be clean and fresh for him." Then she looked up at me. "I'm not pushing you aside, Jason."

"I know. I'm just waiting my turn," I said, and kissed her again.

Jason made it sound like that was the end of his story.

"Either it didn't work out the way you intended or you didn't finish the story," I said. "It was supposed to be a three-way."

"It didn't work out, not that night anyway. But Track and I met up again with Lisa after that. He got the picture when he was fucking her again and I was down there licking around and he accidentally missed her pussy on the drawback and shoved it in my mouth. But that's a story for another time."

He was quiet for a long moment before he went on. "There's an emptiness that gnaws at me all the time, Brad."

"I know."

"I can always trace it back to Vietnam."

"I know that, too," I said.

"I want life to be a series of re-runs where I get to write the script. I want my youth back. I want the chance to be young again and go back to places I've been; to my old barracks, and be who I was when I was there before, with the men I was with before. I want to go back to Toby's and find you there, waiting for me, then we go to the Trent and fuck till the bed collapses. I want to feel the testosterone and adrenalin rush of combat once more. I want summers at the beach, to vacation on an uninhabited island and live in a hut where I can lie at night and listen to the sea around me. I want to see Tuscany. I miss Vietnam and what we had there."

"You never mentioned Tuscany before," I said.

When he'd talked it out he made hard, brutal love to me and I realized he hadn't talked it out at all. He was trying to fuck it out of his system.

Some days later I made a list and laid it beside his plate at dinner.

"What's this?"

"We need to go on vacation. Go somewhere. Those are some options."

He read down the list. "Road trip. Vietnam. Key West. A cruise. It's a short list."

"You can add to it."

"You didn't list Tuscany," he said.

"Add it," I said. He didn't.

"Where would we go on a road trip?" he asked.

"Travel around and visit the boys."

"And Vietnam?" he asked.

"You said you miss it."

"Do you?"

"Yes, sometimes. I miss it more when you're missing it."

"A cruise....where would we go?"

"Alaska. The Caribbean. Depends on whether you want to freeze your ass or bask in the sun."

"What's in Key West?" he asked.

"From what I've read, about everything you could imagine. The Truman Whitehouse, Hemingway's home, Sloppy Joe's where he hung out. And it's pretty much owned and operated by gays. Very laid back and some really fine bed and breakfasts, many of them clothing optional."

"Well, hell, I vote for Key West," he said, laughing.

We didn't talk about it again for several days. I asked him if he'd given it any more thought.

"I thought we'd decided on Key West," he said.

So be it.

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-Two

(Key West)

I booked us into a classy, clothing-optional bed and breakfast. Jason about shit when he found out it was four hundred dollars a night but he never regretted a dime of it. What I didn't know till we got there was that there was an all-male gay resort which happened to be located very near the Naval Air Station. Both figured very much in our stay.

Our room at the B&B was located along the side of the building with huge trees overhanging the balconies. The four-poster king bed was situated on a platform heavily draped, giving a feel of intimate privacy. There was a large tub on clawed feet with the ornate fixtures on one side and a shower frame overhead. A wicker cabinet overflowed with towels and a wide array of toilette articles. A stately armoire against one wall towered over us and an antique parlor table and chairs sat back from the French doors that opened out onto the balcony. We could see the large kidney-shaped pool and the tiki bar from the balcony.

Jason seemed intrigued by all the bottles and soaps in the towel cabinet.

"What do you say to a bubble bath later? Do Marines take bubble baths?" he said jokingly.

"If they do, they don't tell other Marines," I joked back. "How about later, though, when we get back in out of the sun."

We were anxious to go to Duval Street. We were on a cursory stroll, taking in all of the T-shirt shops, when Jason asked if we were going to check out the gay resort. Hemingway's home was on our agenda, as was the Truman White House, but I could tell he was anxious about the gay resort. Still, we saved it till later. We took the tours to the Truman White House and climbed to the top of the Key West Light House. Interesting that it overlooked a gay resort where there were a dozen naked men lying out on the rooftop garden. From there we went to Hemingway's home. I was fascinated with his studio, where he did his writing. I bought several of his books from the gift shop even though I thought he was hard to read. I guess I admired the man more for his lifestyle tan his writing. Then it was time for lunch. We went to Margaritaville for "cheeseburger in paradise" and the best iced tea ever. It was time to go to the resort.

We walked into the place just as these four guys were coming back into the lobby from being shown around. It was easy to spot them as military by their extremely healthy looks, the high-and-tight haircuts and the unmistakable confident bearing. These guys had it all. They were big guys--all hot--and even the smallest of the four was big, and they were all in top military shape. They all wore shorts and tank tops....like PT shorts, that showed off their great thighs. There was a little conference going on off to the side that we could overhear, that the place "worked for them." When they told the clerk he said all he needed was their military IDs so he could give them their discounts. I remembered then reading that they gave discounts for military.

While they were getting out their IDs to get checked in, they noticed Jason and me standing to one side. We were wearing our US Marine caps that we'd bought earlier, and they noticed. They politely stepped back to let us go first.

"No, you guys go ahead. Active duty first," Jason said.

"I guess we stand out, huh," one of them said.

"You couldn't deny being in the military, if that's what you mean." I said. "Yeah, you stand out like sore thumbs. Hell, you would be recognized as military in the showers, without your clothes." They got a laugh out of that.

The clerk asked if they wanted separate rooms or two rooms, and did they want them adjoining. They looked at each other and then one of them asked if they could get one room with a king size bed.

"Yes, you certainly can," the clerk said, looking them up and down, "But the size of you guys, that's going to be a tight fit."

"You don't know how tight we can fit in together," one of them said.

"We'll fit," said another.

They joked with the clerk that they had come down to Key West to nail some Navy ass from the Naval Air Station.

"Well you can sometimes find that here," the clerk said.

"But if we can't find any Navy ass......" He let his words trail off as he looked at us with a mischievous grin.

"I don't know about that, it's been a long time since I've been on maneuvers with four guys," I said.

The clerk came around from the counter and took my cap off my head and put it on and asked them if he would do in our place. We all got a good laugh over that. But then the guy said, seriously, if we wanted to come to their room they would be honored to "honor our service" was the way he put it.

I didn't ask what he meant by that, and I wasn't a hundred percent sure that he was speaking for the group. I was reluctantly excited over the invitation, though. Jason accepted their invitation only if they allowed us to return the honors....they said gladly; and they all were up for it. I still wasn't sure exactly what we were talking about but I thought we were on the same wave length.

"Well, I guess we ought to introduce ourselves," one of them said. "This is Lt. Hollander--Mike. That's Corporal Jack Toby, aka Budweiser, that's Sgt. Dan Ricks and I'm Sgt. Eaton--Brian."

"Brad, and this is Jason," I said as we all shook hands in turn. I was surprised to learn that one of them was an officer. He saw my surprise as I was shaking hands with him.

"We re-define fraternization to fit our own situation. You can ask Budweiser.....Have I ever fraternized you, Budweiser?"

"No, sir. You've nailed my ass enough times, but you've never fraternized me." That set the tone and turned up the heat.

We liked these guys. When we were shaking hands with Corporal Toby, Jason asked, "Is that AKA because you can drink the rest of these guys under the table, or because you like Budweiser?"

He laughed and said, "All and none of the above."

"Just wait," Sgt. Eaton said.

The clerk gave them directions to the room and they left to find it.

Sgt. Eaton said to me over his shoulder, "We'll see you guys later."

"Looks like you men hit the jackpot," the clerk said as he was checking us in. "For the record, you're active duty," he said and he gave us the military discount. We tried to decline, telling him to reserve it for guys still wearing the uniform but he wouldn't hear of it.

Going to our room we could look down at the pool below where guys were laying in the sun and swimming naked. We stripped off our clothes and donned towels as we'd seen others wearing and then went exploring. We checked out the sauna and the steam room but didn't go down to the pool yet. When we came upon the wet area we doffed the towels and got under the showers. A few minutes later the four Army guys came in. They greeted us warmly. It wasn't a big shower, only six showerheads so we filled it up. It was absolutely an awesome place to be, in the company of four real men, so unashamed, unapologetic about their sexuality and at the same time absolutely confident in their manhood. There was a lot of banter and Army talk, and a lot of other guys slowed going past the shower on their way to the small Jacuzzi in the next room.

Lt. Mike Hollander was the smaller of the four, probably one sixty-five, youngish looking, smooth, muscular and tight-bodied. He had a tight little ass to die for, one that would cause mouths to water. I was already imaging burying my face in it. From the back he could pass for a teenager. His cock was longer than Dan's or Brian's, swinging out in a wide, sexy arch, with large head, a very neat cut. A lot of smaller guys have the biggest cocks. The thing about the lieutenant was his looks, and his eyes. He was drop dead good-looking, like the college big-stud-on-campus, and eyes that penetrated; you could get lost in them. He was mesmerizing to look at.

Sgt. Dan Ricks and Sgt. Brian Eaton were the biggest of the four; big enough almost to qualify as brutish except for the graceful way they moved, like athletes. They were heavily muscled all over, with massive chests and huge arms and thick thighs and rock hard stomachs that looked like armor plates. I guessed Ricks to weigh a good two thirty and Eaton looked heavier. He wasn't as hairy as Ricks but both men looked like they kept their chests and bellies neatly trimmed. The hair on their thighs looked good, so manly, without being apish. Ricks had a pair of balls like a stallion, big and heavy looking, but held high in his crotch. I wondered if I could get even one of them in my mouth. His cock was thick and meaty too, darkly hued, and cut, with a very visible network of veins that made him look all the more virile. Eaton's cock was about the same size, couldn't tell if he was cut, but he had a generous collar that hugged the rim of his cockhead that gave promise of expansion. Both men had great, solid looking butts; Ricks' a bit hairy, but still not grossly so. I wondered if either of them were fuckable or if they were only there, as they'd said, to nail some ass.

I understood now, Toby's nickname of Budweiser. It wasn't the beer, it was the beer can. His cock, hanging out, was nearly as big as a beer can with a head the size of a small orange. My asshole fluttered, perhaps in fear, with the prospect of what he would look like hard. It would be like shoving an orange in my ass, followed by the beer can. He was muscled to match, thick-muscled like a wrestler, muscles that bulged when he moved. He was the youngest of the four, nineteen or twenty, young enough that he was still more cute than handsome. Fuck, a teenager, possibly; how hot was that! And he was funny. I was getting very horny; I wondered if they were.

Budweiser turned off his shower, saying he was going to try the Jacuzzi. The rest of us followed suit. There were already two guys in the Jacuzzi and with the six of us, it was crowded, but nicely so. The Jacuzzi room was small, too, with benches along two walls, and it was dimly lit, but there were lights in the Jacuzzi itself so everyone was well illuminated. Ricks started horsing around with Budweiser, rubbing his foot along the inside of his thigh and Budweiser tried to wriggle away, saying, "Dammit, you're gonna give me a hardon doing that." Everyone laughed and one of the other guys said, "Oh, My, we've never seen that here before."

But Budweiser acted like he was getting embarrassed and Ricks stopped teasing him. But then things sort of picked up anyway and it wasn't so much like teasing when Lt. Mike straightened his leg out between Eaton's legs, and Eaton slipped down more into the water to meet his crotch against the officer's foot. Lt. Mike got hard as a rock, but Eaton's cock only fluffed up.

"How do you keep that thing under control when he's doing that to you?" one of the other men asked Eaton.

"Mind over matter," he said.

"Hell, the reason is, it just takes so long for that much blood to get pumped down there and fill the thing up," Ricks said.

Suddenly, Budweiser shoved himself up onto the edge of the Jacuzzi and said he was getting too warm and needed a cool shower then he was going back to the room. The rest of us stayed in the Jacuzzi and there was conversation with the other two men about the six of us being military. They asked if it wasn't risky for military guys to be in a place like that.

"If anybody was to be watching us, they would have to pay and sign in, and that would put their name on the register right along with ours," Lt. Mike pointed out. Then he said, "Don't tell me you've never met guys from the Naval Air Station coming in here."

"Oh, quite often," the man said. "But they know and admit there is a risk, and they are always careful when they come in and leave."

"Is that the reason the entrance of the place is down an alley and so hard to find?" Ricks asked.

"Possibly. But I've never heard of them posting shore police around to spy on guys. I think they turn a blind eye."

"And that would be because some of the Navy that come here are the shore patrol," Lt. Mike said.

I was watching Budweiser in the shower, noticing that his cock was fluffed up and the shower wasn't bringing it down. My asshole tightened in anticipation, as I thought of how it would feel to get fucked by that. I asked how old Budweiser was.

"Nineteen," the LT said. "Quite a specimen, huh?"

"To say the least," I said.

LT decided to get out of the Jacuzzi, and the others, and Jason and I followed. We all showered again. Budweiser had already gone back to the room.

After showering we donned towels and had to walk back through the lobby to get to the room. The place was designed with narrow walkways winding around, leading to the rooms on several levels. Their room was on an upper level, about midway down the walk, overlooking a lush garden and the pool.

Once inside, there was no wasting time. The three soldiers immediately shed their towels--Budweiser was already naked--and were all over each other and falling onto the king sized bed. I saw more why they called him Budweiser as he quickly got hard. I didn't remember ever seeing such a thick cock hanging, or standing. Jason and I lingered back a little, standing at the side of the bed while the four were rolling around, laughing and getting "reacquainted." They reminded me of a bunch of overgrown boys who hadn't seen each other for a while, frolicking naked on the bed.

"Hey, you're supposed to be in the middle of this," Sgt. Eaton said, pulling me onto the bed with them. LT pulled Jason in.

The clerk was right, it was a tight fit on the bed, but we managed by tangling and stacking on top of each other. I hoped the bed held up; there was more than a half ton of muscle testing the springs. There was muscle all around me and on top of me, under me, smashing against me on both sides. I was in absolute heaven. I was so heady I felt like I was on something.

It'd be hard to describe everything exactly as it happened; there was simply too much going on, and with six of us, things happened fast and it was nonstop.

There was a lot of groping and getting cocks hard and feeling each other's muscles and rubbing and writhing against each other. Those guys were all hard and tight and they obviously appreciated each other's bodies; they were quite open about that. One of them said, "Godd, it feels good to be in bed with real men." It became quickly apparent that they were all into everything....sex with abandon, they called it. There was no rank of course. The lieutenant was as eager and willing as the others.

LT pulled Budweiser into a sixty-nine; so much for the non-fraternization rules. It was hot as hell the way his mouth was so distended around the teenager's cock.

"Fuck, LT don't chew it off," Budweiser said.

The other two guys maneuvered us into a four-way daisy-chain. That lasted for a few minutes till Sgt. Eaton pulled out of the circle and got behind Budweiser-who was on top of LT in the sixty-nine-and shoved his cock in his ass and started fucking him. He did it rather unceremoniously, causing Budweiser to raise up from the LT's cock.

"Aww, Geezuss! I just got torpedoed!" he gasped.

I was surprised myself how hard and fast Eaton went in but then realized that Budweiser had probably already lubed up his own ass. That left us in with Sgt. Ricks. He was the biggest of the four and it was awesome when he came up over me on his hands and knees; Godd, it was like lying under a mammoth. I loved it. He was hairier than I like, but his hair was neatly trimmed and I got over that real quick because the sex was hot and wild. The air conditioner couldn't keep up with the heat being generated, and there was the smell of sweet, wonderful, fresh sweat. I love fresh sweat, especially when it is sex generated.

Suddenly Ricks turned us over, easily I might add, bringing me on top of him. Right away I felt a tongue licking my ass and balls while big Ricks was still sucking my cock. It was Lt. Mike, leaning over to do my ass. A bit later there was some maneuvering to the side of me and then Budweiser was getting up, moving around behind me. He took over from Lt. Mike--I thought he might have pushed him aside--and tongued my ass for a couple of minutes then I was aware of him standing up and I felt lube being squirted in my ass and I knew I was gonna get fucked by that thick hunk of meat. I'd lost track of Jason.

I was sort of hoping to have one of the other guys break me in before Budweiser plowed into me. I felt the head of his cock against my hole and I braced myself; it felt like the big end of a ball bat. He might've actually been as big as the serious end of a bat. He pushed through and I choked on Ricks' cock from the initial pain. Ricks' big hand clasped around my head and he forced me all the way down and I choked some more. It was a good thing in that it momentarily took my mind off being impaled on Budweiser's beer can cock.

Budweiser didn't cut me any slack at all. He drove right in till I felt his balls against my ass and his cock deep inside me. He was so fuckin' hard I could feel his heartbeat in my ass. Ricks did cut me some slack and let me raise my head but he didn't let me off his cock. I really didn't want off of it, I just wanted to breathe. Budweiser started fucking me before I was really ready but that worked out too because he fucked the pain right out of me and I was soon moaning and slobbering on Ricks' cock and going down on it on my own.

I glanced over and saw LT leaned over Jason, slobbering over his cock. He rose up and said, "We should've asked if there's anything in particular you guys like, or don't like to do before we started in on you," he said.

Jason laughed and said, "You guys are pretty much covering everything on my list. Except maybe for one thing," I he added.

"Name it," LT said.

"I would like to try sucking two of you guys at the same time and feel both of shooting in my mouth, depending on when and how many time you guys wanta cum, of course."

"What a slut, I thought, with amusement.

"Hell, we can do that," Budweiser said.

"Uh, I don't think he was including you," LT said. "He won't be able to fit one of our cocks in his mouth along with yours."

"I'm up for the challenge," Jason said.

LT got into position, lying on the bed facing Ricks, balls to balls, and suddenly Jason had a smorgasbord laid out in front of him. He held both of their cocks in his hand and stretched his mouth around them. I'd never seen him do this before and I was surprised how easily he took both their cocks in his mouth. Eaton came up to LT on his knees, offering him his cock and LT began sucking him.

After a few minutes of this Budweiser reminded them that Jason had said he was up to the challenge of taking his big cock and said he wanted to share his mouth. He pulled out, leaving my asshole gaping wide open, and wedged himself in to take Ricks' place with LT, balls to balls. The addition of the girth of Budweiser's thick cock stretched Jason's mouth to the limits but he proved to be up to the challenge. Eaton moved behind me and filled the hole Budweiser had left open and started fucking me. Ricks moved around behind me too and I could tell a minute later that he was fucking Eaton. Ricks and Eaton traded off on my ass and fucking each other while I began imagining what I wanted to ask these horny studs to do.

"He said he wanted two loads, let's try to give 'em to him at the same time," LT said to Budweiser.

"Yeah, just let me know," Budweiser said.

Jason lifted his head and said, "Don't cut it short, I'm enjoying this."

"Oh, hell, blowing a load won't be cutting anything short, that's just a temporary break," Budweiser said.

"Yeah, he's a regular fountain of youth," Ricks drawled.

The two guys kept taking turns fucking me and each other while Jason groaned and choked on the two cocks in his mouth. It was hard to control both of their thrusts and one or the other of them was constantly jabbing at his throat; sometimes both of them at the same time, and that's a LOT of cock, especially when one of them is the size of a beer can. LT asked Jason if he was getting tired.

"It's a challenge," Jason said, and went back down on them.

"Come on, let's work it up for him," LT told Budweiser.

"I told you, LT, to just let me know, I can blast off any time you're ready, just give me a few seconds warning," Budweiser said.

Jason sucked them harder as he sensed they were getting close, and got so excited himself that he was trying to force both cocks into his throat; a physical impossibility. The two of them fucked Jason's distended mouth savagely and moments later they were obviously blowing their loads. Jason was unable to contain it; the stuff ran down their cocks and cascaded over their balls while Jason fought to keep from choking. I couldn't believe the cum running out of Jason's mouth. It was like somebody had shook up a Bud and popped the tab. Jason was swallowing what he could but he was losing most of it.

The next moment I felt warm cum spurting into my ass. I didn't know whose it was till they traded places and Ricks took Eaton's place. Hot as I was with two loads inside me, I didn't go off.

We sprawled on the bed entangled and on top of each other. I noticed Jason had not gone off either.

"Hey, if there's something you like to do best, just tell us," LT said, a little out of breath as he rubbed his fingers through my hair.

Ricks disentangled himself to get us beer out of a cooler. "Damn, guys, I haven't had sex like that forever," he said as he was passing them around.

"Been a long time since we've brought in reinforcements," Eaton said.

"You all seem to know each other well, do you guys get together like this often?" I asked.

"No, that's the bad part; this only happens maybe a couple of times once a year. So we make the most of it."

"I hope we're not intruding," I said.

"Fuck, no, you're not intruding. Hell, you're giving my ass a rest," Budweiser said, laughing. "Last time they ganged up on me for four solid hours. They fucked me numb. I couldn't feel anything for a week."

"It's not our fault you've got the youngest and sweetest ass in the group," Eaton said. He ruffled his hair and leaned over and planted a huge, wet kiss on his mouth. "Not our fault you've got the sweetest everything," he murmured as the kiss mounted in passion. Seconds later their arms went around each other and they were really making out. The rest of us watched and did some light making out of our own as the duo went from kissing to Eaton turning Budweiser up to rim him and eventually fucking him.

"Ohh, Godd, I knew it was gonna lead to this," Budweiser moaned as Eaton entered him.

I finally found my courage and mentioned to LT about my fantasy of being double fucked. That had already happened but I wanted it from these military studs and I thought it good that these men would think they were getting a virgin in that respect.

"You asked if there was anything in particular we liked to do.... I'd like to try getting double fucked."

"You mean two cocks in your ass at the same time?" Ricks asked.


Ricks looked at LT. "How come we haven't done that yet?"

"You can't expect me to think of everything," LT said.

"Shall we try to accommodate him?" Ricks asked LT.

"Yes. As a tactical maneuver, you should be on the bottom since you've got the longest cock," LT said. "But hey, maybe you want Jason in on this your first time?" he asked me.

"That'd be even better," I said. Okay, it would be a first for Jason to be in on double fucking me. I was secretly hoping they would name Budweiser.

They were quick and eager to accommodate me. Ricks lay on his back and I climbed on top of him facing up. LT took hold of Ricks' cock and guided it to my ass and I rode down on him. He pulled me down tight on top of him, his muscular arms wrapped around me. Jason straddled us to mount me from the front.

"Are you sure you wanta do this?" he asked quietly as he set his cock at the apex Ricks' cock and my asshole.

It took some doing for him to work his cock into me, and there were times when I thought it would be some kind of a trauma, but I stuck with it. I knew I could do it; I'd had three cocks in me at one time. Finally Jason had me stretched enough and I felt his cock slide in on top of Sgt. Ricks' cock. I was amazed how easily I took him, despite the short lived pain. But I wanted it really bad.

"Oh, Godd!" I groaned as the two men fucked me, alternating their thrusts at first, then driving them both in me at the same time. It was such an incredible fuck! Two big hard cocks sliding in and out of my ass at the same time really filled me up. And my prostate really got a workout. They used moves on me that I'd never had anybody do before, twisting around and corkscrewing and I didn't know which cock was rubbing or pounding my prostate. They nearly drove me crazy. Sgt. Eaton and Budweiser were on their knees on one side of us, watching and LT was on the other side.

Sgt. Ricks said, "Can't you guys find something better to do with all that cock meat?"

Eaton didn't waste any time standing astraddle Ricks to feed me his cock while LT boldly offered his cock to Jason. I didn't know where Budweiser went till I heard Jason shout out a loud groan.

"AAaahhh Fuck! Geezuss, Budweiser, I didn't need a new asshole!"

We worked perfectly together. I asked them if they'd done this before, they said yeah, but with women, never with a guy. I was glad I was the first for them. They fucked me for at least a half hour, the last few minutes with us lying on our sides and I was the meat in their muscle sandwich. Jason and Ricks agreed they wanted to try to cum together and Budweiser chimed in that he would try to shoot his load in Jason's ass at the same time and give him an extra thrill. I thought that pretty unlikely but the way they synchronized their moves and communicated with each other, they pulled it off.

Suddenly Sgt. Ricks grunted "Incoming!" to me or Jason, or both of us, and he started pounding my ass like a pile driver.

"Here's mine, too, on the way," Jason growled and he tried to match Ricks' powerful, almost brutal thrusts. The bed rocked and creaked so bad I thought it might collapse under the weight of six men and the action. It was awesome to feel the heat of their cum shooting up inside me. In the middle of it Budweiser made Jason howl with pleasure as he gave him his load.

"I'm cumming!" I squealed as my body shudder through the quaking climax.

LT and Sgt. Eaton sprayed their cum all over us. It was wonderful.

We lay in that tangled stupor for several minutes before I felt one of their cocks slide out, then the other. They rolled onto their backs, breathing hard.

"Fuck, didn't anybody turn on the air?" Ricks asked.

"The air conditioner can't keep up with that kind of heat," Eaton said.

I was nearly gasping from exhaustion, but my cock was still hard and my gaping ass was aching for more.

"Damn, I wish somebody had held off, I could use some more of that," I said.

Budweiser to the rescue. "I'm ready, if anybody else's still got a hardon," he said.

"I can work it up," LT said. "I'll be bottom man."

As LT was stretching out on the bed I noticed that somebody had opened the drapes and cracked the window for fresh air. Nobody said the drapes should be closed so we left them open. As I was sliding my ass down onto LT's cock I saw two guys walking along pause and look in. That was sort of hot, too. They stayed to watch Budweiser mount me, their eyes wide, their mouths gaping.

"Holy Shit!" I heard one of them say.

Despite being stretched out, it was a tight fit with Budweiser's oversized cock.

"Good thing they did him before you used that power tool on him," Eaton remarked to Budweiser.

After a short struggle Budweiser managed to penetrate my hole along the top of LT's cock. Again, I was imagining the large end of a ball bat.

"Okay?" he asked, hovering over me.

I nodded.

"You'd say if it wasn't," he said.

"Hell no, he wouldn't," Jason said.

He paused for a moment when he was all the way in then he began fucking me. The two men quickly set a rhythm and were soon fucking the air out of my lungs.

"Ohh, Godd! We're gonna do this again," I groaned.

It didn't hurt; it was the sheer pleasure and excitement that made me short of breath. There was only the good feeling of being stretched and filled with hot, throbbing man meat and the feel of their muscles on both sides of me.

Budweiser didn't have much finesse; he fucked me like he was born to it, like it was his mission in life. LT's moves, more steady, were like he'd developed them through long hours of practice. His cock was more the stabilizer and "filler" with Budweiser doing most of the action. Already well fucked, I was numb by the time they finished with me, but it was a good, weird feeling; I felt numb, yet I felt all the sensations of being fucked.

The four soldiers were insatiable. They hadn't been together like this for a long time and they were determined to get out of it all they could. It was pretty much non-stop sex. When one of them shot his load the others were on him, sucking his cock, his tits and rimming him, bringing him back to life; he couldn't help but get hard again. One of them remarked that his cock was so hard so long that it ached so bad he just wanted to let it go down for a little bit. The others showed him no mercy; if they did let him go down they got him hard right away again. They didn't cut Jason and me any slack either. I got double fucked four times that afternoon. Talk about a team effort.

We won't ever forget those guys, and I will be forever grateful that it was four tough, virile military guys who thought they initiated me that way. It was so right. They indeed honored our service.

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-Three


We were walking back to the B&B when we saw two guys get out of a Jeep. Two BIG guys, obviously bodybuilders. They were wearing cut-off jeans shorts, boots and baseball caps. When one had fed the parking meter he took the other stud's hand and they walked on down the street.

"We oughta move here," Jason said.

"Nothing says we can't," I said.

Back at the B&B, Jason said he had to take a piss then he needed a drink. I told him I would meet him at the tiki bar. There were two other guys standing at the bar, talking. They were naked. The very good looking, built bartender was wearing a bikini swim suit. A middle aged couple sat on bar stools; he was naked, she was in a bikini bottom. I didn't know why I was surprised-it was clothing optional-but I was. Just not something I was used to back home. One of the guys standing pushed his glass across the bar and ordered another.

"And would mind dipping your dick in it this time," he said.

The bartended laughed as he made the man's drink. The bartended looked all around then damned if he didn't shove the front of his suit down and dip his cock in the glass.

"You just doubled your tip," the man said.

A woman sat around the corner of the bar with her sumptuous tits straining against a narrow top. I ordered two drinks and was digging out my money when the woman intervened.

"I've got those," she told the bartender, nodding to me.

My first reaction was to protest but instead I nodded and thanked her. She picked up her drink and came around to my side of the bar. She was wearing very, very cut-off shorts.

"My name's Andrea," she said, putting out her hand.


"And your friend?"



I laughed. "Former," I replied.

"You both could pass for active."

"Maybe to civilians."

"Thank you for accepting my hospitality," she said.

"My mother would be glad I haven't forgotten my manners."

We chatted for the few minutes it took Jason to return from piss call then I introduced him to Andrea.

"What branch of service were you in?" she asked, directing it to both of us.

Jason gave her a funny look.

"She guessed," I said. "I was Marines. He was Navy and Marines. SEALs."

"Whoa! I'm honored to be in the presence of one of the elite," she said. "Not that the Marines aren't just as hot," she added with a throaty chuckle.

It was funny to watch Jason ogling her. If she noticed she didn't let on. He didn't waste any time.

"Are you here by yourself?" he asked.

"No, my husband is up in our room. He's not much on the heat; he likes his air conditioning," she said, glancing around. There he is now," she said, waving to a man on the balcony.

It was a dim view past the shade of the trees but I could make out a good sized man with a dark tan and a hairy chest. He waved back and she waved him down. He was there by the time the bartender sat his drink on the bar.

His stride was powerful and confident, like a bull daring anyone to get in his way. He was a bit too hairy for my taste but not enough to detract from his build. He was heavily muscled; broad, thick pecs, wide powerful shoulders and thick arms. His stomach was like a plate of armor that extended down to an eight-pack plunging into the low slung black boxer brief he wore. I tore my eyes away from the mighty bulge to take in his massive, hairy thighs and well-rounded calves. I grabbed another look as I lifted my eyes to his square-jawed face, made more rugged by the neatly cropped beard.

"This is my husband, Rick," Andrea said as she handed him his drink. "This is Brad, and Jason. Brad is Marines; Jason is Marines and SEALs."

"Impressive," Rick said, raising his glass in salute. The way his eyes raked over both of us I got the impression he was referring to more than our military status.

As we talked, my impression turned to stark reality when I realized that we were being picked up! By a man and wife! I wasn't sure Jason realized what was going on. If he hadn't picked up on it, he was certainly sending out vibes that should've been ringing in the woman's ears.

When our drinks were low Rick made his next move. "I could have drinks sent up to our room instead of sweltering in this heat."

"I told you he doesn't like the heat," Andrea said, laughing.

"Shall we?" Rick asked.

"Sure, why not?" Jason said with a shrug and a smirk. He'd figured things out.

"Why not, indeed," Rick said. He gave the bartender an order for the drinks then led the way.

The cool of their room was a welcome relief from the heat.

"If you'll excuse me I think I'll grab a quick shower," Rick said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "You, Babe?" he asked his wife.

"I'll wait," she said.

"Anyone else?" he asked, looking at Jason and me. "I know you're used to showering with other men," he added.

"I'll wait with her," Jason said.

Rick looked at me, then said, "Catch me if you can," as he walked into the bathroom.

I was torn. I knew full well what was going down but I didn't want to appear too eager.

Andrea came over to me then and ran her hand across my shoulders and back. "He didn't want to come right out and ask you to wash his back," she cooed.

It was all the encouragement I needed. "Alright," I said.

In the bathroom, the shower was running and Rick was peeling down his swim suit.

"Ah, you decided to join me. Wonderful," he said with a big smile as he stepped into the shower.

"Your wife said you like someone to wash your back," I said as I took off my suit and kicked it aside.

"And whatever else," he said as he stepped back to welcome me into the shower. "I'm glad you caught on. I think you did before your buddy," he said as he ran his hands across my chest and down my stomach.

"Yes, but I'm sure he's caught on by now," I said.

"I thought so, from the way he was looking at her. Have you ever done this before?"

"Been picked up by a man and wife? No."

"Wonderful. We love it when we land a couple of virgins," he said, laughing. "I take it you and Jason each play your own side of the fence."

"We don't restrict ourselves," I said. I laughed. "There's not much that holds Jason back."

"I sense there's something way more than two guys meeting up in Key West," he said.

"We've been together for a long time. Since Vietnam," I said.

"Incredible. Are you married?"

"We never saw the need."

"You're both hot."

"Thanks. The same could be said for you and your wife."

"She more than I." He laughed. "Which is the reason she's the bait."

"Well, she got Jason, hook, line and sinker."

"Andrea's been lying out in the sun; we need to hurry so they can have the shower," he said.

"Jason's not easily deterred; I don't think he's going to mind a little suntan lotion," I said.

He took the soap and began soaping up my back when I thought it would be the other way around. I wasn't quite reading him. I took him to be straight using his wife as bait, as he'd said, to lure other straight couples in. Yet here he was washing my back, even taking in my butt. I wondered about them luring in two guys. Maybe for his wife to have two guys to fuck her while he watched. He was paying particular attention to my ass; perhaps we had been lured in so they each could have a man to fuck.

We traded the soap back and forth, washing each other's bodies from head to toe. He gave as much attention to mine as I did to his. Still, there was no indication that he wanted to have sex with me. His cock fluffed up nicely but it never got hard. I didn't mind, not with the club he as carrying. I had to squeeze to touch my fingers around it. I was only fluffed up myself.

He ended the shower, turning it off, then stepped out and handed me a towel. We dried off in silence then he took the towels and hung them up. I followed him into the bedroom where we found Jason fucking Andrea with his usual gusto. So much for them needing the shower.

"Looks like we rushed our shower for no reason," Rick said.

Her head was pressed back in the pillow and it looked like her eyes were rolled back in her head.

"Ohh, Godd, Yess! Fuck me, you big stud Marine. Fuck me! My Godd, you go in deep!"

"Well, it looks like you'll have to wait your turn," Rick said.

I wondered how a man could stand and watch his wife being fucked by another man but I didn't let it concern me. I was boning up just watching Jason in action. I wasn't particularly interested in taking a turn with Andrea although I would if it came to that. I was more interested in Rick. His hairiness wasn't exactly a turn-on for me but his body underneath all that hair was.

"On the other hand, is there any reason to wait?" he asked as he reached around to grab hold of my butt. He led us to the bed where he laid back across the mattress beside his wife and Jason. He sprawled his legs apart and motioned to me and I crawled between them. As I bent over his middle he put his hand on top of my head to guide me down.

"I was hoping you'd wanta do this," he said.

His cock filled my mouth, like a small anaconda curling up in a warm, wet place. I mauled it with my tongue and felt it pulsating. He was slow coming to life but the wait was worth it; slow, I thought, because so much blood had to be pumped into the veins. Gradually it overflowed my mouth and I mauled it around so the head was nesting against my throat. I held my lip lock around the shaft while it pushed harder and harder till it finally pushed through and sank several inches down my throat.

"Awwm, fuck yeah," Rick moaned. "Not many guys can do this!"

Jason looked around and smiled.

As Rick's cock pushed deeper it expanded and stretched my throat. He reminded me of Budweiser. It was an incredibly tight fit but I waited till he was completely hard before I eased back and began sucking him.

"This is the best fuckin' deep throat I ever had," Rick declared.

Jason was banging Andrea like he hadn't had a pussy in a while. Rick was impressed.

"Damn, the guy's a machine," he said.

I lifted my head. "Do you want some of that?" I asked.

"Do you mean him fuck me? No. Maybe I didn't make it clear; I'm straight. But damn, if I weren't, I would sure let him bed me."

"If you feel that way, what makes the difference if you're straight?" I said as I stroked his fat cock.

"You're twisting my words," he said.

"Ohhhh....Oh my God, you go in so deep!" Andrea cried softly.

"I can go deeper," Jason said as he grabbed a pillow. "Lift up," he said, and when she did he slid the pillow under her butt. When he drove back in she cried out louder.

Rick was watching intently and I noticed his eyes seemed to be glued to Jason's butt.

"Look at that ass, the way it flexes. He's a real powerhouse," he said.

I had to wonder if the man was as straight as he let on. He urged me to turn on the bed, I thought/hoped for a sixty-nine, but he only wanted to play with my ass. On my hands and knees beside him, my butt was spread open, giving him easy access. He used spit for lube to rub my hole and eventually penetrate it with his thick finger. It felt good, but I wanted more. As he probed and found my prostate I shoved back on his fingers.

"Ah, you like that? You wanta ride me?" he asked.

As much as I hated to give up his cock, my ass was in need. I rose up and turned around to straddle him. He held his cock up for me to sit on and when it was on target I let my weight down for my ass to swallow his huge cockhead.

"Oh, Fuck!" I gasped when it burst through. He didn't force it; didn't even nudge upward. He waited till I rode down on it. "Godd, you're thick!" Again, he reminded me of Budweiser.

"Yeah, but I don't leave any nerves untouched," he said.

He clasped onto my butt and began fucking me. I liked watching his big arms and thick pecs bulge and ripple with the motion.

"It's okay, now, isn't it?" he asked.

"Ohh, Godd, Yess!" I replied. I leaned down to press my body flat against him. His hairy chest and belly felt good against mine and I slid back and forth on his hard muscles.

After a while Rick asked if anyone wanted to trade or change positions."

"Godd, don't stop, you've had me so close," Andrea moaned.

"Okay, I'm good," Jason said.

I was clawing the sheets; I couldn't have asked for more, but Rick wanted me on the bottom. So Andrea and I lay side by side, moaning our chorus of lust and pleasure, accompanied by the rhythm of our men fucking her pussy and my ass. The bed creaked and I wondered if it would hold up under our combined weight.

"Hold me" Andrea cried softly. "Godd, don't let go of me....I'm cumming! Oh, Godd, it's so good....I can't stand it.....fuck me, you big stallion....Yesss....Yesss....make me cum!"

She kept getting louder and louder and Jason put a pillow over her face and then really plowed into her. I wasn't far behind. Rick fucked my load out of me, sending it spewing up over my head then streaking my upper body.

"Holy Shit, I hit the mother lode," Rick said as he plowed me. Seconds later I felt his thick cock bolt inside me and then he was cumming.

"Oh, Godd, I can feel it!" I moaned.

Rick pushed himself up and said, "You gotta see this, Babe; he shoots like a horse."

Jason rose up and pulled her to a sitting position.

"Oh, my, that is so beautiful," she said as she reached over and began smearing my cum over me like lotion. "You two are incredible," she said.

"Yeah, it's not often we find a combination like this," Rick agreed.

"Yes, it's usually another married couple. This has been a real treat," Andrea said.

"Hey, it doesn't have to be over," Rick said. "Another shower, a few minutes rest....we surely haven't exhausted all the possibilities."

Jason and I agreed with our eyes that we were in no rush to leave. Andrea and Rick were delighted. We all four went into the bathroom. They wanted to watch Jason and I shower together. We did, along with a show of making out. We both got hard again and that delighted the couple even more. We got out and dried off while we watched Rick and Andrea shower together. Then it was back to the bed.

"I told you, we don't often snare two guys," Rich said. "You know what would be a really hot thing to see? The two of you making out, like you were in the shower, only take it farther."

"If I may," Andrea chimed in. "I would like to see Brad fuck Jason then switch off and fuck me."

I wasn't sure Jason would want to give himself up to being gay but he didn't object. I knelt on the bed for him to get into position, I thought on his back. But instead he crawled between Andrea's legs on hands and knees, offering his ass to me, and buried his face in her pussy. Rick did the honors of lubing up Jason's ass for me then nodded for me to mount him. I don't think Jason would've done it except that we were caught up in this first-time situation. He let out a low moan when I entered him and Andrea moaned even louder. Rick moved up to feed his wife his cock to keep her quiet.

After several minutes of fucking Jason I urged him out of the way and took a turn at Andrea. I was pleasantly surprised how wonderful her pussy felt swallowing up my cock. While I was fucking his wife, Rick stood astraddle us and fed me his cock. And so it moved from one position to another till I was greatly surprised to see Rick move down on the bed with his face in his wife's hairy bush, dangerously close to my cock. He went into her bush, searching with his tongue for her clit. I leaned back and eased my cock back a little to give him room. He found it and she cried out. I started fucking her again, using only half-cock strokes so I wouldn't push his face away. Then I got another surprise; he started alternating his tongue between her clit and licking my cock.

"I love her pussy juice," he murmured.

I bought it and I didn't. I was becoming less convinced that he was one hundred percent straight. I decided to put him to the test. I pulled my cock free so he could have free and total access to his wife's pussy. He tilted his head to the side and started licking my cock instead. I eased forward and he opened his mouth for me. I shoved in and he began sucking my cock. He sucked way longer than it took to lick off his wife's pussy juice. He was sucking my cock, pure and simple.

"I love it when he gets this way," Andrea said. "He's straight but sometimes he gets so horny....give him your juice."

"Are you sure?"

"I want to see him take your load. Don't worry, he does what I want him to."

Jason quickly worked his way into the fray so he could eat Andrea's pussy while I held Rick's head and fucked his mouth. He didn't offer any resistance. He was most subservient to his wife's wishes.

When I blew my load, Rick took every drop then pushed Jason out of the way and clamped his mouth over his wife's pussy. I could see he was pushing my cum inside her, then he loudly sucked it back and then rose up to kiss her. There was no doubt that this wasn't this couple's first time around the barn.

"How long will you be here? Can we do this again?" Andrea asked as we were resting. "Perhaps we can arrange for another couple to join in."

We didn't commit but we left it open. We showered and left.

We stopped by the tiki bar on the way back to our room on the other side of the courtyard.

"I think I'll take a quick swim," he said

"Of course you will," I said, smiling.


"Those college boys in the pool wouldn't have anything to do with that decision, would they?"

"What was that old movie?....Where The Boys Are? Come on, let's check 'em out."

We downed our drinks and went over to the pool. I was ready to jump in and thought Jason was, too, but he stopped and peeled his swim suit down. I would've felt awkward if I didn't follow suit. We jumped in and swam the length of the pool and half way back which was about where the college guys were. We surfaced within arm's reach of them. Up close they had the clean-cut look of athletes, lean and tight bodied. More solid than most swimmers, I took them to be basketball players or track men. The water was distorting but they both appeared to be well hung.

"That's some mighty impressive swimming," one of them said.

"Yes, very....among other things," the other one said.

It was hard to tell which one of us they were referring to.

"We saw you go inside with that couple; what the hell was going on up there?"

"You heard?" Jason said.

"The entire island heard."

"Let's just say her husband doesn't get the round far enough in the chamber to hit the firing pin," Jason said.

"That sounds like military jargon."

"Marines?" the other boy asked.

"For a while," I replied.

The two boys looked at each other, smiling. "Just what we've been looking for."

"Maybe later, right now we need some R&R," Jason said.

"Room 4-D," one of them said.

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-Four

(Duval Street)

Jason slept longer than I expected he would and when I tried to wake him he rolled over to go back to sleep. I didn't mind; I was just curious over the way he was acting. I went ahead and showered and woke him up a couple of hours later and asked him if he still wanted to go to Duval Street, or maybe just get a bite to eat and call it a night. He got right up and showered.

We ate at the Hog's Breath Saloon and wandered on down to Mallory Dock. As we were passing by a tattoo parlor, Jason slowed and took a couple of steps back.

"You're not," I said. In all our time together we had never even talked about tattoos

"Why not?" he said. "All red-blooded Marines have tattoos, don't they?"

The guy saw us standing and talking in front of his display of tattoos he had available.

"Come on in, let me show you what I've got," he said.

He had a wide display of military tattoos and I had to admit, they were impressive works of art.

"Both Marines?" he asked.

"Yes," we both replied at the same time.

"You've both got the shoulders and the arms to show off a tattoo," he said. "Well, anywhere else you might want one, for that matter," he added, looking us up and down. He purposely and boldly fixed on our crotches.

"Don't even think it," Jason said, laughing.

"Believe it or not, I've done some mighty impressive tattoos there," the man said.

"They would have to be mighty impressive well hung," I said.

"They were. Come over here, I'll show you." He led us into a little alcove of his booth. "Can't put these on public display," he said as he handed us an album of photos depicting very large tattooed cocks.

"Damn, these are beautiful," Jason said. "The artwork, I mean," he added quickly.

"Of course," the man said, laughing.

"Doesn't it hurt to get a tattoo?" I asked.

"It's hard to say; everyone has a different threshold of pain. A boy might be afraid of being hit out on the football field but that doesn't stop him from playing football. Natural childbirth can be very painful but that's doesn't stop women from having babies. Actually, the needle barely penetrates the surface of the skin. I can show you if you want," he said picking up a needle.

Jason readily offered his arm for a demonstration.

"Yes, very good arm to work with," he said as he cradled his bicep in his hand. Jason flinched when he pricked his skin but several more pricks brought barely any reaction at all.

"Hell, that's not much worse than getting a shot," he said.

"You?" he asked me.

I offered my arm; I didn't have any choice, did I? Jason was right, it barely hurt.

"Does your cock have to be hard to get a tattoo?" Jason asked, "because I think it'd be very difficult to maintain a hardon while being poked with a needle."

"No, and very few men do stay hard. There are a handful of exceptions; men who are into S&M. The main thing is to have enough to hold onto; it's difficult to work on a small cock."

"I do believe he's trying to get in our pants," I joked.

"Well, I would have to see what I've got to work with," the man said, without a trace of embarrassment.

"Trust me, you would have plenty to work with," I assured him.

"Well, now you've got me curious," he said.

Jason was looking at the display of tattoos.

"I think I'll pass and settle for this one," he said, pointing to a Eagle, Globe and Anchor. "On my arm," he added.

"Very good. You, too?" he asked me.

"Yes. But he's going to need one on his other arm," I said. "He was Navy, too....SEALs, and a sniper."

"So was he," Jason said.

"They don't have to go on your arm or shoulder," he said. "They could go on chest or lower abdomen, calf or thigh, even on your butt. Like I said, you both have the muscles anywhere on your bodies to display a tattoo very nicely."

"On my shoulders," Jason said.

He went first. I sat and watched and tried to build up my immunity to the pain to come.

When both of Jason's shoulders were finished it was my turn. While I was getting my tattoo, Jason was studying the display again.

"I want one more," he said. "So does he."

"Speak for yourself till I see which one you've got in mind," I said.

When I was finished Jason showed me the other tattoo he wanted us to have: United States Marine Corps in very ornate, bold lettering.

"I want it right across here," he said, sliding his hand across his lower abdomen.

"Very good," the man said. He laughed. "I have a lot of guys get that one done there; they say it warns the ladies that they're about to get fucked by a Marine."

"Actually, I want it as a constant reminder how lucky they are while they're giving me a blow job," Jason joked.

"We'll need to go back where there's a little more privacy," he said as he led us through a short, narrow corridor, to a small room with two chairs and a padded reclining table. "I'll need to have a look at the area; I will probably need to shave you."

We both dropped our pants and shoved our shorts down. The man laughed.

"It's interesting, the difference between military guys and civilian men when I ask them to do this....the civilians are usually timid and embarrassed while you military guys just shove everything down and let it all hang out."

"You soon get over your timid modesty in the military, "I said.

"Oh, my," he said as he inspected us. "Those are absolutely perfect cocks to work with."

"Whoa," Jason said. "We're talking a few inches above there."

"I know, just wishful thinking." He rubbed his hand across Jason's lower stomach, then mine. "Yes, I will need to shave you. How low do you want the tattoos?"

"Just above the hairline so they don't get hidden by the underbrush," I replied. "And how about we abbreviate United States with just U.S."

"Don't be a pussy," Jason growled but he agreed.

This time I went first, stretching back on the padded table, half reclined. The man shaved me, dried me off, then ran his hand across the area to check its smoothness.

"Is it going to be a problem if that feels good?" I asked, only half joking, for I could feel a tingling at the touch of his hand.

"If you get a hardon-and it happens-you'll have to hold it down out of the way," he said as he sat on a stool between my legs. He smoothed his hand over the area again. "Yes, this is a perfect pallet, nice and solid. It's very difficult to work on flab."

I managed not to get hard although I fluffed up. It was weird; I wondered if I had a masochist streak in me. The man lamented again that he was not working on my cock. The pain was minimal and I was more than happy with the finished work. It was fun watching Jason get his tattoo because he had to keep fighting his cock as it kept rising and lowering.

When he was finished with us the man applied light, almost transparent bandages over each tattoo.

"Tattoos are essentially open flesh wounds, so leave these on for at least two hours. When you remove the bandages wash the tattoos with lukewarm water and some mild liquid antibacterial soap. Don't use a washcloth or anything abrasive. Pat them dry with a clean towel. It's a good idea to apply A&D ointment. Do not use Neosporin. Keep them clean and after a day or two you can use lotion instead of the ointment. I recommend Eucerin."

"What about showering?" I asked.

"You can shower with a new tattoo but don't submerge them in a tub for two or three weeks."

"And swimming?" Jason asked. "I mean, we are in Key West."

"I recommend two or three weeks, whether it's a pool, fresh water or salt water. Some guys don't wait that long but sooner than that, at your own risk. You may notice some peeling and possibly a little scabbing. That's normal, just let it run its course. You can apply soft, moist compresses but don't apply ointment or lotion to soften the scabs. You'll probably start to itch when they're healing. Don't scratch!"

"Wow, I'm glad I didn't get my cock tattooed," Jason said.

"I'm here till nine if you change your mind," the man said. "One more thing; I don't know if you use sun block but you need to apply at least 30SPF on your tattoos; the sun can fade them.

As we were paying the bill Jason asked about a rooftop garden, clothing optional place. He gave directions and said we could see the flowers and foliage on the roof.

"But it's more bare ass naked than clothing optional," he said.

"That's even better," Jason said.

"By the way, you might want to refrain from sexual activity until you're healed," he said. "Or at the very least, stick to blowjobs."

We wandered around Mallory Dock till the sun had set then headed back up Duval to find the clothing optional bar. We saw Captain Tony's, the original Sloppy Joe's, and stopped off for a drink. It was small and unlike Sloppy Joe's on Duval, there was no entertainment. It was a place to drink and little else. But we could say we'd been there.

"I overheard somebody talking about this place with all the flowers on the rooftop," Jason said as we resumed the trek in search of the bar.

It was on top of the third floor. There were signs about being at least eighteen to enter, and NO picture taking. There was a DJ and nice lighting, a few people were dancing but most were just standing around enjoying the sights. Most were clothed, or partially so, but there was enough bare skin to make it interesting. One hot, totally naked babe was having her body painted. There was a handful of naked tourists who were by all that's holy intended NOT be naked. Most of the nudies, though, were of the age and shape not to be concealed by clothing. Jason and I were not sure we would get naked but we had both taken off our shirts on the way up the stairs. I felt a bit awkward with the bandages covering our tattoos but Jason said they were badges of honor.

We ordered drinks and milled around.

"I wonder how you're supposed to keep from getting a hardon," Jason said.

"Think of it as cultural experience," I said.

"Shit, look down at the end. Now that's my kind of culture," he said.

I looked in that direction, at the end overlooking Duval Street. There was a young guy, bare down to the waist and then some, wearing what looked like a flight suit with the top folded down and the sleeves tied round his hips to hold it up. Even without seeing his face, he was striking with his broad shoulders and upper back that narrowed down to a lean waist and a couple of inches of fine looking ass; enough that his crack was showing. I saw then that it was his high and tight ass that was holding up the flight suit. He was talking to a young couple, gesturing with the hand that held his drink, the muscles in his arm bulging and flexing.

Jason maneuvered us a little closer; I was glad to see he was acting more like himself. After a few minutes the guy gestured with his empty glass turned upside down as he was turning around.

"Holy Fuck!" I said.

He was so muscular and well defined, he looked like a sculpture. The cuts in his abs were so deep you could lay a finger between the bricks of muscle. It was indeed a flight suit he was wearing; accented by a pair of sun glasses that make those guys look so studly. In front, the suit sagged off his hips so low there was a wide strip of his pubes showing. He had to be a fighter pilot from the Naval Air Station.

"We need to meet this guy," Jason said.

"Well, he's coming this way, do you want me to trip him?" I said.

"Fuck, look at those abs," Jason said and he downed his drink just as the pilot came into our personal space.

I was looking, at the way they flexed and twisted when he walked.

He must've noticed us looking and he smiled a bright white smile and said, "You're empty too, come with me."

We followed him the short distance to the bar, our eyes glued to the upper third of his butt. Mine were fixed on the crack, causing my mouth to water.

At the bar he ordered his drink and motioned for us to order.

"Make 'em doubles," he told the bartender. Then to us, "The drinks are good, but small."

"You're a pilot," I said.

"Yeah, I'm stationed here, just got back in from a training mission. I always come here to unwind."

"I can see how that would work," I said.

We took our drinks and moved back to the front of the place where he'd been standing, where it wasn't so crowded.

"Brady Jones, Captain, U.S. Navy," he said, putting out his hand.

"Brad Courter."

"Jason Seaborne."

"I'm surprised you're in partial uniform. Don't they watch for that?" I asked.

"Not really. Shore patrol is instructed to lay low, not cause any trouble. Not good for the relationship. We're guests here, we have to accommodate their culture."

"Well, I have to say you're being mighty accommodating," Jason said, eyeing the man's bare upper body.

"You guys are pretty accommodating yourselves," he said. "Fresh tattoos, I see." He peered closer at the bandages. "And you're Marines. And snipers. Impressive."

"He's Navy, too," I said, pulling Jason's other shoulder around to show his other tattoo.

"SEALs! Fuckin' impressive. I take back everything I was thinking about the Marines," he said, laughing.

"Listen, we didn't mean to pull you away from that couple you were talking to," I said.

"You didn't. I got away under my own volition. I didn't particularly like where it was going, or how slow it was going there. They were looking for another couple, wanted me to pick up a girl and come with them. I say if you want a couple, hit on a couple."

We talked military while the vibes got stronger.

"I gotta ask," Jason began. "Where the fuck do you get abs like that."

"It's mostly genes. I just try to maintain what God gave me."

"I think God dug out his original mold when he made you," I joked. "Like you are what all mankind was supposed to look like."

"Thanks, but I have to own up to the unfortunate fact that some of it....maybe a lot....is to compensate for being short changed where it counts."

"I can't believe you get any complaints, regardless," Jason said.

"I don't, but when the clothes come off, seeing the body, they expect something phenomenal."

Despite his cockiness, I felt he was uncomfortable talking about it and I changed the subject back to things military where we had common ground. It was easier for Jason and I to explain what we did; we couldn't grasp much of what he explained about his job. And frankly, I wasn't listening that closely. I just wanted to keep the conversation going to keep him there.

Out of the blue, he said, "Do we need to get a room?....'Cause I feel like I'm being raped with your eyes."

His remark set us back. I recovered quickly. "Sorry, I guess we were staring. Didn't realize the vibes were that strong."

"Don't apologize; I'd just like to know if we're on the same flight pattern."

"Well, we do have a room, an easy walk from here," I said.

"Another drink before we go?" he asked.

"I'm good," Jason said quickly.

"So am I," I said. We were both anxious.

"You guys are going to disappoint a lot of people, leaving here without taking your clothes off," he said.

We left the rooftop and went out on the busy street. Jason and I left our shirts off but Brady hiked his flight suit up to his waist.

Back at the B&B we asked Brady if he wanted to get naked and go for a swim but he declined. I was glad because I'd forgotten about staying out of the water with our fresh tattoos. I wasn't going to wait two weeks but at least for a little while longer. I thought the captain must really be self-conscious about his manhood. I stopped by the tiki bar and ordered drinks to be sent up to our room.

In our room, Jason didn't waste any time getting out of his clothes and I followed suit. Brady lingered back a little but he had less to take off; just his boots, cap and the flight suit. He was still removing his boots when Jason and I were both naked.

"Well, damn!" he exclaimed when he saw us.

I dropped to one knee and began unlacing his other boot. "Stop being self-conscious, it doesn't fit the profile of a fighter pilot. Whatever you've got or don't have, your body more than makes up for it. Quite honestly, I can't wait to get my hands on your ass." I pulled his boot off.

He laughed and said, "You know how to make a guy feel at home." He stood up and while I was down there I pulled his flight suit down. His cock sprung up like a steel rod, quivering violently. I was surprised, but not in a bad way. I was expecting something more boyish, like three or four inches. He was sporting a good six inches of perfectly sculptured man meat, neatly cut, bulbous head and with a sexy upward curve.

"What the fuck are you worried about; that is beautiful," I said.

"You've got more hanging than I've got standing," he said.

"You've got plenty enough to reach all the right places," I said.

"Hey, put his boots back on," Jason said.

Tossing his flight suit aside, I slipped his boots back on and tied them.

"Shit!" Jason swore. "Fuckin' hot! You know, I've got a straight streak in me but seeing guys like you makes it fade."

I stood up just as Jason went down in front of him and began kissing his abs. I went around behind him and knelt down to kiss his butt.

"Damn, such perfection!" I murmured as I dragged my tongue along the crack. His butt was solid; I was barely able to make a dent with my fingers unless he was totally relaxed.

"Ohhh, Goddd!" he groaned. "Fuck, guys, I wasn't expecting all of this."

I reached through his legs and felt Jason's mouth on his cock, all the way down. He was a perfect size for that. I guided his chin through several sucking motions. Brady had his boot in Jason's crotch, pressing it against his balls. A moment later Jason stood up and I heard Brady's groan muffled by his mouth. I wanted to join in the kiss but I was too engrossed in his awesome ass. I pulled the buns apart and dragged my tongue deeper in the crack, flicking his hole. I finally stood up and worked my way into the kiss.

"Fuck!" Brady gasped. "You guys are so fuckin' hot!"

"Likewise," Jason said.

"Listen, I don't need a lot of foreplay unless you want it," Brady said.

"What're you saying, flyboy?"

"I'm saying I'm up for fucking."

"Yeah, I can feel that," I said as I fingered his ass. I wasn't going to be able to take the tattoo artist's advice and refrain from sex. Neither of us could, not with this hot stud in front of us.

"You take him first," Jason said to me. "I wanta worship his abs some more."

We laid him across the bed and he brought his legs up in a welcoming gesture then grabbed hold of his boots to hold his legs out wide. Jason went for his abs again and I leaned down to rim him. I'd never seen such an awesome ass in my life. When we had him whimpering and begging I took up the position.

"My cock's reporting for duty, Captain," I said as I pressed it against his hole.

He hunkered against the head of my cock and I pressed forward. There was almost no give; his tight sphincter was determined to keep me out.

"Try to relax your ass so I can get in," I said.

"My ass is relaxed. You have to push through, hard. Don't worry, I can take it."

I shoved. He winced and let out a little gasp but told me to keep going. It was a tight fit; felt like his sphincter was going to squeeze my cock off. I slid in all the way, smashing my balls against his butt. He was so fuckin' hot that I could feel his heartbeat in his asshole. His butt was nice and smooth so it didn't bother my tattoo when he clenched the hard muscles.

"I've heard of muscles in your shit but this is ridiculous. Are you sure you're not a virgin?" I said.

He laughed and pulled his legs toward his shoulders. "A lot of guys think that. No, plow me," he said.

I eased back and started plowing him. Jason dove for his balls and sucked them both in his mouth. Brady's cock was like an iron bar, quivering and pushing out precum like a leaky faucet. I leaned down over Jason to lick it up off his stomach.

"Godd, you know how to fuck!" Brady groaned. Then, "When you're ready, you can shoot it in my ass."

Jason was all over him; sucking his balls, sucking his cock, kissing his abs and sucking his nipples. He really liked this guy's body. When I moved up to kiss him Brady wrapped his arms and legs around me and locked his boots around my hips and began fucking himself hard on my cock.

"Oh, Fuck....ohhh, fuck me.....ohh, Godd, your cock goes in so deep!"

After a few minutes he suddenly let go and let his arms fall limp over his head and his legs fall to his sides.

"Fuck, I thought I was in great shape but you are a fucking machine."

"Just lay back and let me do the work," I said as I bought one leg up and straddled his other one and kept on fucking him. His leg, held tight against my chest, offered great leverage.

Jason continued kissing all over his upper body. "When you get ready to cum, I want your load," he told him.

"I've been ready, but it won't cum," he whined. "Godd, I wanta cum so bad."

I shifted in high gear in a different mode. I began twisting my hips around, corkscrewing my cock into him like a jack hammer gone out of control. He clamped his mouth around his forearm to stifle his outcries. I fucked him like the machine he said I was, without letup, till he suddenly flung his arms out, clawing the sheets. His mouth gaped open but he seemed unable to cry out. Jason moved down with his mouth open barely an inch from his cock, just in time to get the first salvo of cum splattered all over his face. I kept fucking him. I wanted to force very drop out of him. Jason's face was quickly streaked with cum then he captured the belching cock to take the rest of it in his mouth. He put his hand over Brady's mouth just in time to muffle his guttural scream.

I fucked till he went limp; his magnificent, hard muscles relaxed and he barely moved except for his breathing. I slowly pulled out and moved up to his shoulder to offer him my cock to suck.

"I think you fucked him into oblivion. Give him a rest," Jason said.

We lay for a time with Jason's and my legs and arms wrapped round him. He came around after several minutes.

"I have never been fucked like that in my entire life," he said. "And I've never cum so hard."

"That was a pretty impressive load," Jason said. "Does this mean you're done?"

"No, I want you to fuck me next," he said.

"How about you fuck me first, while Brad fucks you again. He never got off."

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"It's no problem," I assured him.

"Any combination you want; I've got all night," Brady said.

I suddenly remembered the guys in 4-D.

"Listen, there were a couple of college guys we met in the pool who wanted to get together with us. Should I go see if they want to join us?"

"I'm up for it," the captain said.

Jason started to slip on his clothes to go get them.

"Uhhh....it's clothing optional," I reminded him.

"I know but I'm liable to get hard before I get back, and it's not hardon optional," he said. He slipped on his shorts. Pulling them up he tugged at the corner of the bandage on his lower abdomen to have a look at his tattoo. "It looks okay, I'm taking this off," he said. Then he checked the tattoos on his shoulders and pulled those bandages off then left to get the college boys.

I checked mine and decided to remove the bandages.

"They look okay, don't they?" I asked Brady.

"They look fine. I hope he brings those guys back; my ass is good for the night," the captain said when Jason had gone.

"I would think all you'd have to do is make that known, with all those horny guys on the base."

"Believe it or not there is a drawback to being a pilot. You have to be an officer. And the rank seems to be a barrier for the enlisted men. And, fuck, the enlisted guys are the studs."

"That must be frustrating, your ass aching for enlisted cock and not being able to do anything about it."

"Well, there are a couple of young bucks who are daring enough to take the chance. I sneak them into my BOQ when I can."

Jason returned with the two college guys in tow.

"Holy Fuck!" one of the exclaimed when they walked in and saw the ripped captain.

"Did somebody say fuck?" the captain said as he turned over onto his stomach.

The college boys and the captain spent the night. I lost count but by morning everyone was well fucked.

The next morning there was another round of sex then the college boys went back to their room. The three of us went down for breakfast on the veranda with a dozen or so other guests. The veranda was not clothing optional so everyone was dressed in at least shorts and the women in tops. We parted company after breakfast and Jason and I headed back to Duval Street to visit the shops.

We bought several T-shirts and a couple pairs of Tommy Bahama shorts and shirts to match. Jason also bought some Tommy Bahama cologne. He wasn't big on that kind of stuff but when I smelled it and said I liked it, he bought it. In another novelty shop he found a pair of jeans with a most interesting fly. On the inside flap was sewn the words "Lucky You."

We also came across a shop where everything was under five dollars. It was a little more than coming across it; there was college age muscle hunk outside wearing only a pair of shorts, holding a sign that read "Everything Under $5.00." We went in. The place was crowded with merchandise and packed with people. I didn't expect to find anything of value but Jason found a table stacked with military style athletic shorts. I could see the wheels turning in his head. Back home we had dropped in to pay a casual, friendly visit at the recruiting office shared by the Army, Navy and Marines. We'd spent nearly two hours bullshitting with the three recruiters.

"Did we decide if we're going to start training high schoolers for basic training?" Jason asked as he dug through the shorts.

"No, but it looks like we are," I said.

We bought all they had in stock; twenty-two pairs.

"Remind me to call the recruiter when we get home," he said.

We spent the rest of the morning wandering through a bunch more shops up and down Duval Street then went to a restaurant where we had alligator for lunch. We asked the waiter what alligator tastes like; he said chicken. It didn't taste like chicken, it tasted like alligator. From there we went to Sloppy Joe's where Hemingway hung out almost every day. From the tour of his home we'd learned that he went to his studio every morning and wrote several pages then spent the rest of the day at Sloppy Joe's or deep sea fishing. We sat at the bar where I imagined Papa Hemingway himself would be strolling in at any moment. It was easy for me to understand how the atmosphere of Key West was fertile ground for the many writers who came there. Tennessee Williams had a home there where he supposedly wrote Streetcar Named Desire. There was a place where Faulkner stayed to write but it wasn't open to the public. And Robert Frost spent winters in Key West. I had always dreamed of writing but never found what it takes to put pen to paper. I wondered if I might if I lived here.

We each bought a Hemingway T-shirt then headed back up Duval to find a place called Blue Heaven. We learned of the place from the bartender at Sloppy Joe's. It didn't advertise except by word of mouth. On the way we stopped at a street vendor selling good quality silver jewelry and we each bought a heavy serpentine necklace. The man put them on us and commented how sharp they looked around our muscular necks. Coming up on the tattoo parlor, Jason slowed his pace.

"Are you going to be able to leave Key West without getting your cock tattooed?" I asked jokingly.

"Would you think less of me if I got a tattoo on my cock?"

"No, of course not."

"I was thinking about the snake tattoo," he said.

"Better find out how long you'd have to wear a bandage and give up sex," I said.

"On second thought....."

We walked on to Blue Heaven. I wondered if it would be worth the long wait. It didn't appear to be a place for gourmet dining and I was further doubtful when we were showed to a table. The place looked like somebody's back yard. The furniture looked like a hodgepodge of tables, chairs and benches that'd been salvaged from the dump. Several chickens obviously called the place home and the cats appeared to own the place. We were seated at a picnic table. I thought it odd that the cats never bothered the chickens.

"Are you sure about this place?" I asked under my breath.

"There's still a line outside, the food must be good," Jason said.

He ordered jerk chicken and I had the BLT; bacon, lobster and tomato. The meal was more than good; it was outstanding, made more so, topped off with key lime pie. It was also very expensive. We had a brandy and listened to the guitarist in a little shack-like booth in the corner of the yard. We both said we would come back if we ever came to Key West again.

The next day was wide open; we had no idea what we would do. We had breakfast at the B&B and then we were on Duval Street again just as the shops were opening. It seemed like every day there were shops we hadn't seen the day before. Graffiti's was one of those shops. The window displays were downright erotic with skimpy, sexy swim suits on bulging mannequins. We went in and browsed through the sexy shirts and shorts. The stairway was lined with shorts and swimwear and upstairs was a ton more.

"Most of these suits are designed for a younger, leaner body," I said.

"And I don't know where we would wear some of this stiff without being arrested," Jason remarked as we were going through the racks.

"The beaches on the north end of the island," someone behind us said. It was one of the clerks from downstairs. We didn't know he'd come up. "And I must respectfully disagree; you both could pull off wearing any of these suits. Younger and leaner doesn't always mean sexier," he said with a smile. He took a suit from the rack and held it up to Jason. "Why don't you try this on?"

Somehow I didn't think he had come up just to make sure we didn't walk out with anything.

Jason went into the change room with that suit along with two others he'd picked out. The change room was like no other I'd ever seen. There was no door. It was simply a closed off area, a wall that he went behind and at the end of the enclosure was a large mirror so one could stand and watch him changing. He came out in the one the clerk had given him; a very brief boxer, white with deep blue wide stripes down each side and deep blue piping down the center of the pouch. By brief, it was about a four-inch strip of material wrapped around his hips--no leg--barely containing his manhood and not quite covering his butt in the back.

"You can absolutely pull that off at the beach," the clerk said.

While I went in the change booth to try on a deep red bikini, Jason tried on a couple more suits out on the floor. He said there wasn't much need to go in the booth with the big mirror. The clerk readily agreed. I could see in the mirror the clerk eyeing him quite openly.

"WOW!" Jason exclaimed when I came out wearing the red suit.

"I second that," the clerk said. "Honestly, I've never seen two men your age in such incredible shape. You absolutely need to spend an afternoon at the beach in these suits."

Along with four swim suits, we bought several pairs of super sexy underwear. Jason was still wondering where we would wear the suits back home but I already had a place in mind.

"Listen, I told Logan I would send him some undergear," I said. Jason picked out several pairs that he thought were sexy and I added several more pairs; nine total. Then we picked out two swim suits. One was a bright yellow bikini with deep blue piping around the legs and a narrow strip down the front to highlight the pouch. The other was a hunter green boxer brief with a special built in pouch designed to lift and accent his manhood.

"Where's he going to wear these?" Jason asked.

"There's an old bridge back in the woods; he goes swimming there."

"Probably naked," he said.

"I think he'll like these."

We left Graffiti's and wandered on, packages in hand. On a side street we came across a leather shop. Not much from the outside but it proved to be very interesting inside; and another expensive stop. There was every imaginable kind of leather goods. Jason took an interest in the jockstraps. A clerk saw his interest and approached us.

"If you see something you like, these are custom fitted," he said. He might have been a tad swishy but I thought he was putting his best macho foot forward for our sakes.

I was looking through the jocks too and we both brought out ones we liked. Ironically, they were identical.

"I see you are attuned to one another's tastes in leather," the clerk said. There was a booth in the back with a curtain for privacy. He motioned Jason inside and started to pull the curtain but I stood in the opening and he left it open.

"We're attuned," I said to the clerk. He took that as an invitation himself and we both stood and watched Jason take off his shoes, jeans and briefs and pull the jockstrap on. The clerk stepped in and went to his knees to mark the adjustments, which were minimal, I thought, just the strap around the waist.

"I see you've been to see our friend, Jim; this is a nice tattoo," he remarked.

"I don't think we're going to be leaving Key West till he gets one on his cock," I said.

"Well, it's good to have your own trademark, and Jim would certainly have plenty to work with," he said as he marked the strap then asked Jason to pull his cock and balls through the hole in the front panel. It was a struggle and it was painful pulling his heavy balls through the hole along with his cock.

"How does that feel?"

"Like somebody's squeezing my balls," Jason replied.

"Then we'll cut the hole a little larger. Not too much, though, it's designed to push and lift." He marked the hole with white chalk and told Jason he could take it off. Then he did the same for me.

While the adjustments were being made we browsed the magazines, and beyond that was a small room with a wide array of jockstraps, including military jocks. Jason glanced at me with a grin and I could see the wheels turning again.

"How many pairs of shorts did we buy?" he asked.

"Twenty two I think."

"Can we afford that many jockstraps?" he asked.

I laughed and waved the clerk from behind the counter. "Do you happen to have twenty two Marine jockstraps in stock?"

"I'll check," he said as he first counted the ones on display. He came back moments later and said he only had twelve but he could order more and ship them. We talked it over and decided to make up the difference with U.S. Army jocks. There would no doubt be some of the high school boys going into the Army.

At the glass counter we looked at the display of cock rings, ball straps.

"Can I interest you in some accessories?"

"I don't know, I never used any of this stuff," Jason said.

"Well, let's give it a try, shall we?" He selected several ball straps, plain and studded, and cock rings, both rubber and stainless steel. "The straps will have to be trimmed to fit and the snaps placed according to your size."

He took us back to the booth where we had to drop our jeans and shorts again for him to fit the leather ball straps.

"Tell me how tight you want it," he said as he drew the strap up under my balls. I told him and he pulled it a little tighter then marked it, and then he fitted Jason. "I'll place three snaps so you can adjust it to your comfort level....or for someone else's."

Jason reached down and hefted his balls while the man was holding the strap snugly around them.

"You know, this feels good. I can almost feel a testosterone rush," he said.

"Yes, a lot of men say that," the clerk said.

"And that is leading up to.....?"

"You're reading my mind," Jason said.

I turned to the clerk. "We'll need twenty two more of the straps."

"Forgive me for asking but my curiosity's got the best of me. You've purchased twenty two jockstraps and now the same number of straps. Do you run an escort service, or belong to a club, or do you have your own stable of men?"

We both laughed and Jason explained that we would be training high school boys for basic training and we were outfitting them.

"Ah, high school boys....they will no doubt vary in size; I'll put four snaps on those. If you have someplace else you want to go I can have these ready when you return, any time before six."

Back on Duval we were stopped by a good looking college type selling scuba diving tours and deep sea fishing. We decided to give it a try; not the scuba diving but the deep sea fishing. It was early morning and the guy said he could arrange a ride for us out to the docks but we needed to pick up bottle water and a light lunch to take a long. We did and returned to his booth where we caught a ride to the docks. We purposely booked a small boat for the morning; this one was a two-seater and the captain guaranteed a good catch. It was one of the most exhilarating experiences we'd ever had. We didn't see land all morning. The first mate was kept busy baiting the hooks and we barely had time to grab a bite of lunch between reeling in the fish. The barracuda were plentiful and ugly as shit. We threw most of them back. Caught some giant sun fish and bonita fish.

The catch of the day was on my line. I thought I was reeling in a whale. I secretly hoped it was a marlin but I wasn't that disappointed in landing what turned out to be a forty five pound king fish. It was a hell of a morning of non-stop fishing and our hands were blistered. We ended up with nineteen fish in the locker; that didn't count the ugly bastards we'd tossed back. Back at the dock the first mate asked if we wanted to have any of them mounted. We hadn't thought of that but we decided we didn't need dead fish hanging on the wall so we left the catch to the boat. The first mate was good enough to inform us that we could have the big mackerel delivered to a restaurant where they would clean it and cook a meal from it and the restaurant would buy what was left. We decided to leave it along with the others; let the first mate sell it.

We'd had a light lunch on the fishing boat so we took the trolley around to the beach. Jason changed into the super-brief boxer suit and I put on the red bikini.

"Holy shit, that thing looks even smaller than when you first tried it on. Did you get the wrong size?"

"No, it's the same one," he said. "I hope we don't get arrested for indecency," he said, looking down at the bulge in his suit, and in mine.

"Well, it's not the suit that'd be illegal, it'd be the way you fill it out," I said.

We grabbed our towels and walked out on the beach. The sun felt great and the hot sand felt good underfoot. We found a spot where it wasn't very crowded where Jason dropped his towel.

"I'm going in swimming then let the sun bake me," he said.

I wasn't sure he should go in the water with fresh tattoos but I didn't say anything. He was his own man. I tried not to ogle his butt as I watched him walk down to the shoreline but good Godd, he had a sexy ass! He passed by a pair of girls and they thought so too. One of them whistled and the other said, "Nice butt!" Jason smiled and gave them a little salute.

I spread the towels out and stretched out to soak up the sun, reminding myself not to get burned. I also reminded myself not to stay out very long for fear the sun would start fading the tattoos. Propped up on my elbows, I looked down my own suit. My Godd, What was I thinking? I didn't know if I would have the balls to walk through the beach goers to get down to the water. What the hell, I thought, I didn't know any of these people....if they got a thrill out of it, well I'd be glad to oblige. I stood up and headed toward the shoreline. I was very conscious of the bulge of my manhood shifting with each step. I didn't know it would do that; I hadn't walked in the suit back in the store. I walked between the girls and two guys on the other side. One of the guys whistled and one of the same girls said, "Another nice butt! Nice separation, too." I remembered then how the suit didn't cover all of my butt. I made it to the water and dove in and swam towards Jason. I was still a powerful swimmer, better than Jason, and I soon caught up with him.

"We're going to be lucky if we get out of here without being raped," I said. "That same girl remarked about my ass and some guy whistled at me."

"You and me, two guys, two girls....let's invite them back to our room," he said.

"I didn't get a good look at the guys."

"What the hell, push him down under the blanket," he said.

When I started to swim farther out Jason said he was heading back. I swam several yards then floated on my back to watch Jason. Something was different; his stroke wasn't as I remembered. I flipped under and swam in his direction. I was still a dozen yards out when he stood and waded out of the water. His stride wasn't the same either. He acted weak and tired, like he was dragging his legs. I came out of the water as he dropped onto his towel.

"I hate to think my age is catching up with me," he said.

"You're fucked out, that's all," I said.

A few minutes later the girls gathered up their stuff and walked toward us. They stopped, standing over us.

"Marines," one said, eyeing our tattoos.

"Born and bred," Jason said.

"Nice tattoos," the other girl said.

The other girl said, smiling, "I just wonder if you know your suit is transparent when it's wet."

"What!" He looked down at himself. I hadn't noticed either but the wet suit was like gauze; the dark hue of his manhood showed through, especially his pubes, and the outline of his cock was very visible. "That guy didn't tell me it turned transparent in the water."

"Your goodies are nicely displayed, too," she said to me.

I looked down and sure enough the head of my cock was clearly outlined under the very thin, wet material. I felt my face flushing warm.

"Hey, nobody minds," the girl said. "Not us and not those two guys back there. Too bad we have to leave, but good luck with the guys. They're pretty hot."

They left Jason shaking his head, and me laughing. We both turned over on our stomachs. We basked in the hot sun till I was afraid I would burn and I pushed up and turned over. I quickly remember the suit and sat up.

"Hey, don't get burned," I said to Jason.

As he was turning over I saw the two guys were gathering up their stuff. I just knew they were going to stop.

"Nice tats," the blonde said. "Don't they hurt?"

"Not so you'd notice," Jason said.

"Thanks for your service. It's comforting to know we're being protected by men like you."

"And it's good to see that the Marines still build men who are up to the job," the blonde said.

"Well, we're not on the job anymore," I said.

"I'll bet you were good at it when you were."

"We'd like to think so."

"Look, we've got a room in the hotel. We'd like to honor your service if you would join us for a drink."

We looked at each other and again; our decision was made without us saying a word.

"We don't wanta get burned," Jason said.

"Okay, one drink," I agreed.

"Great! Bring all your stuff, you can change at our place."

"I'm Andy, by the way," the blonde said, putting out his hand. "This is Dan."

I took better notice of the two guys as we walked up the beach and crossed the road to the hotel. Andy, the blonde, looked typically collegiate, big-man-on-campus, with an unruly shock of hair, nicely tanned, muscular build, tighter and leaner than his friend. He might have been a swimmer except he was more muscular and better defined than most swimmers. Dan had a darker tan that seemed to go with his cropped, coal back hair. He was heavier, more the football type with muscles that bulged and rippled at the slightest move. I was expecting a good time.

"Are you guys in college?"

"Seniors, University of Florida," Dan said.

"You're a long way from home," I said.

"We come to Key West every chance we get. It's like visiting another country," Andy said.

"This is our first time here," I said.

"How do you like it?"

"Good enough that we might get the number of a real estate agent before we leave," Jason said jokingly.

We all wrapped our towels around us before we entered the lobby, then rode the elevator up to the sixteenth floor and followed them down the hall to their room, which was a suite.

"You guys can shower and change; there is a bathroom through there," Dan said. "Your drinks will be waiting. Jack Daniels okay?"

"Perfect," I said.

We went back to shower. We showered together.

"This is going to work out," Jason said quietly.

"Which one have you got your eye on?" I asked.

"Doesn't fuckin' matter to me, let's let them chose," he said.

When we were drying off I noticed our clothes were gone. "Didn't we bring our clothes back with us?"

"Yes. Shit, we're not getting rolled, are we?"

They didn't look the type but I was a little pissed.

"Hey, where are our clothes?" I called out.

"In here!"

We wrapped the towels around us and went back to the room.

"We didn't want you to put them on yet," Dan said as he handed us our drinks and motioned to the couch for us to sit down. "Okay, you're Marines, you know you're hot and you know why we invited you up here."

"To honor our service, you said," Jason said.

"Yes, and we wanted to get a closer look at those US Marine Corps tattoos across you lower stomach," Dan said. He set his drink down and dropped to his knees in front of me. Andy knelt down in front of Jason. They undid our towels and laid them aside.

"Fuck! The Marines certainly do build men," Dan said as he gazed down at my manhood. It was fluffed up nicely from the warm shower.

Andy, over between Jason's legs, leaned down to nuzzle his face in his crotch, licking deep along the side of his balls.

"We were afraid those girls were going to pick you up," Dan said.

"They had to be somewhere," Jason said.

"Would you have gone with them if they'd asked?"



"Why wonderful?" I asked.

"Means you're straight. Straight guys are the best. Especially straight Marines."

Both of our cocks were rising, taking their time, but swelling out to eye-popping proportions; at least these guys' eyes were popping.

"There is a god," Dan said as he stroked my cock. "How big does this thing get?"

"You'll see in a minute," I said.

"You can surprise me," he said, wetting his lips. "I'm going to swallow it till you get hard then I'll find out when I pull off." With that he took my rubbery cock in his mouth and began working it into his throat.

I saw his eyes begin to water but he was determined and he soon had his face buried in my pubes, his chin pressing against my balls and my cock buried in the curvature of his throat. Dan tilted his head to the side to watch him. My cock swelled up and was soon pulsating in his throat. It was wonderful the way his throat muscles kept "swallowing" my cock. When he felt I was hard he slowly pulled up from my cock, revealing inch after inch of slick, thick cock meat.

"Fuck!" he breathed as he stroked me. "I don't' believe I had all that down my throat!"

"You did good," I told him.

"How about you, can you deep throat?" Jason asked Andy.

"Yes, but you're already hard, let me work up to it."

"Take your time," Jason moaned as Andy began sucking him.

I watched the youth's mouth distended around Jason's thick cock; saw him fight down his gag reflex to take the head in his throat, then labor to work his way down the shaft.

"You don't need to rush it, taking your time feels good," Jason said.

We laid back and sipped our drinks. They'd poured us healthy drinks and the buzz was creeping up on me.

"Did you guys learn this in college?" I asked.

Andy nodded yes, Dan no. Neither of them stopped sucking long enough to reply. Not for a long time. Finally Dan rose up from my cock to take a deep breath and wipe his mouth with his forearm.

"Sophomore in high school," he said. "Learned from my coach. He seduced me and convinced me to try it. I'd never even thought about sucking cock before, but when he pulled his cock out of his PE shorts and waved it in my face I was convinced I oughta try it. I kept choking, though, and he showed me how to deep throat. Laid me on a bench with my head hanging over the end of the bench and straddled my head and shoved his cock right in my throat. I didn't even flinch. I was hooked."

Andy still didn't give up Jason's cock to talk and Dan went back down on me. They were good and they were eager; like they were hungry for cock. Every now and then we would have to ease them off so we would last longer. At one point Andy asked Jason if he wanted to fuck him.

"Sure, if you do all the work," Jason said.

"You mean ride you? Gladly."

It took Andy real determination to work his ass down onto Jason's bulbous cockhead. He gasped and winced terribly but he rode it out till the pain was tolerable, then he slowly sat down all the way.

"Godd, that's a big hunk of meat," he moaned. When his ass was attuned to the intrusion he began riding up and down.

"Do you wanta fuck me?" Dan asked.

"If you wanta give it up," I replied. By the way he settled down on my cock and rode right down I surmised that he'd been fucking a lot longer than Andy, too.

"I'm curious," I said. "There were a lot of hot guys on the beach; why us?"

"Well, first, there's nothing hotter than a military guy and your tattoos caught our eye. But you're talking about the age difference," Dan said. "Most younger hot guys know they're hot and they let you know they know it. It's narcissistic. I want to tell them, So, you're hot; get over yourself."

"Personally, I think it's a lack of self confidence," Andy put in. "They're afraid they're not as hot as they think they are and they overcompensate and make fools of themselves. If you've got it, people will notice, you don't need to flash a neon sign. You guys, on the other hand-all military guys for that matter-exude confidence. You've got it, you know you're hot, but it's no big deal, it's just who you are. That's sexy."

"There's something else but I don't know if you'd want me to say it," Dan said.

"Go ahead, say it," I said.

"Military guys are....well....they're military. They've been trained for combat. Trained to kill. I think that's where the steely-eyed confidence comes from. It's sexy as hell to be doing a guy, knowing he could drop you with his little finger, wondering if he's actually killed other men."

"Is that what you were thinking when you were sucking me?" Jason asked.

"Yes. I hope I haven't said the wrong thing."

"No. I don't get it but it's okay you said it," he said.

"Does that mean you're afraid of us?" I asked.

"No. But you were both intimidating till we met you." Dan said.

We both saw Andy's screwy smile as he was riding up and down on Jason's cock.

"What?" Jason asked. "There's something else."

"I wanta kiss you so damn bad. Your lips are so sexy. Can I? It wouldn't be like you'd be kissing me back," he added quickly. "But I've had my mouth on your cock."

Jason laughed, his stomach muscles dancing.

"Oh, that's sexy too, the way your abs ripple when you laugh."

"Have you ever kissed a guy before?" Jason asked.

"Yes, but never a real man."

"My cock's clean, let's give it a try," Jason said as he wrapped one big hand around the back of Andy's head and drew him closer.

"Oh, Godd!" Andy moaned as Jason pulled his mouth against his own.

Jason kissed him back, full on; I could see he was giving him the full tongue treatment. Their kiss muffled Andy's whimpering as he kissed him back. Their passion was building furiously. Andy was riding Jason's cock like a bronc buster, whimpering, slamming his butt down hard against his pubes. When he broke away to take in air his whimpering became louder.

"Ohh, Godd....fuck me....fuck me, Jason....Awwwhh....fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

Jason pulled his mouth back down on his own and fucked him like a stallion with a mare in heat. I saw Andy's eyes roll back in his head.

"Ohh....Godd....nothing this good....has ever happened....to me before!" he whimpered.

Suddenly he was cumming. As Andy's body quaked, cum spurted out in a series of long ropes that hit Jason's neck and shoulders and streaked all across his chest and stomach. Finally he collapsed on top of Jason and he held him like a whimpering baby.

"Damn," Dan swore softly. "That was a deluge! I never saw him cum like that before."

When he was able, Andy pushed himself up. His cum clung to their upper bodies like strings of glue.

"I am so sorry," he said.

"For what? That's sorta the reason for having sex," Jason said.

"You didn't get off, and I made such a mess all over you. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing; it'll wash off," Jason said, laughing.

"No, let me....I'll clean it up....can I lick it up?"


"Wait, let's do this right," Dan said. "Get Jason off too; make him cum all over himself. I'll get Brad off, let him cum on Jason and then we clean it all up together."

Andy climbed off of Jason and Dan maneuvered me in a position on my knees beside him then they both began sucking us. I smiled down at Jason and when our eyes met the vibes tremored between us and I leaned down. He put his hand around the back of my head and pulled me into a hard, moaning kiss.

"Godd, this is so hot; two straight Marines kissing!" Dan exclaimed.

Our kiss had the same effect as Andy kissing Jason, sending electrical tremors down to my groin. My cock bolted even harder in Dan's mouth and Jason's groan rumbled in my throat. Suddenly Andy jerked away from Jason's cock as it erupted with powerful jets of cum high in the air....one....two....three shot up before the first one landed on his chest.

"Holy shit!" Andy exclaimed as he jacked him off and more spurts shot out.

Watching Jason shoot set me off and I blasted in Dan's mouth before he jerked away and aimed my cock to Jason's chest.

"Shit, I never seen anybody cum like that!"

"Geezuss, where's it all coming from?"

I was teetering like a sapling in the wind as my climax wound down and I finally lay over against Jason. He was such a beautiful mess; it looked like a quart of cum had been sprayed all over his upper body.

"We've got work to do," Dan said as he began lapping it up. Andy joined him, slurping up the streaks of cum.

"Mmmnnn, tastes like ranch dressing," he murmured.

Jason broke out laughing. When they were finished licking him clean they wrapped themselves around us and took our cocks in their mouths once again. It was a good feeling; the boys were so appreciative.

"There's only one thing missing," Jason said.

"What's that?" Andy asked.

"Dan didn't get off. So why don't you suck him instead of me. We'd like to watch."

They got on the floor in a sixty-nine. We watched. It was enough to give me another hardon but when they asked us to stay the night Jason declined. I was surprised.

Duval Street beckoned us again with its bright lights and bustle of tourists but we crossed over and headed back to the B&B. Oddly, it was a decision without a word being spoken and I marveled at how well we had come to know each other.

"One more stop," I said as we were passing a clothing shop. "I'm going to send Logan some jeans. He looks great in his bibs but he's got a butt that cries out for a pair of jeans."

"What about his siblings?" Jason asked. "You might cause some family unrest, sending all this stuff to Logan and nothing to his brothers and sisters."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" I said. With that, the two of us set about picking out complete wardrobes for all of them. We didn't know sizes but we guessed, thinking that their mother would be quite capable of making alterations. It was funny to see Jason picking out dresses.

We found a UPS outlet and shipped the stuff to Logan and told him he could share his stuff with Lonnie if he wanted to, or not. Then we headed back to our room.

"How about that bubble bath?" Jason said as we entered the room.

"If you promise not to tell anyone," I said.

"What about the tattoos?" Jason asked.

"Let's take a chance," I said.

There were six large candles situated on the rim of the tub and around it. Two of them stood well over three feet tall. Jason lit the candles while I ran the water.

"Don't tell anyone about the candles, either," I said.

I smelled the bottles of bubble bath and oil and handed them to Jason approval.

"Any flavor will do; I'm only interested in how they make you smell," he said.

When the bubbles rose over the rim of the tub Jason stepped in and put out his hand to me. I stepped in with him and we sat down at opposite ends of the tub. It was so relaxing and I could almost feel the contentment wash over us.

"We've had a lot of good years," he said.

"And many more to come."

"I still wish we could have do-overs instead of waiting to see what the future brings."

"I don't think that's in God's plan," I said.

"Do you ever question God's plan?" he asked.

"No. Never saw any reason to. He's taken us this far."

"Do you think so? Do you think He took us down the paths we took, or did we bluster along, maybe not going in the direction He intended?"

"Either way, here's where we ended up, and this isn't so bad, is it?"

"It's been great," he said.

"Maybe next year we go on a cruise," I said.

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-Five

(Training Recruits)

We caught the early flight out of Key West to a connecting flight out of Miami. Jason slept most of the way. I was a little surprised that his sexual stamina seemed to have gotten the best of him. We picked up my truck at the airport and I drove home.

"It's been a great vacation," Jason said.

"Yeah, and the fighter pilot was some of the most incredible sex I've ever had," he said.

At home I went out to check on the animals. When I went inside Jason was in the living room with the TV turned on. He hadn't gone through the stack of mail on the kitchen table. I picked it up and went into the living room to go through it together. I'd barely sat down when there was a knock at the door. I went to answer it. There stood two husky teenagers wearing athletic jackets. I didn't recognize them. They asked to speak with Jason. I let them in and called him and he came out to the kitchen.

"If we're interrupting something, just say so. But we would like to talk to you about the Marines if you've got a minute."

He waved them to sit down at the kitchen table.

"Would you boys care for something to drink?" I asked.

"Yes, please. Water, whatever you have," the huskier one replied. "My name is Duncan Harris; he's Marcus Boyd. We're both seniors and we want to go in the Marines after graduation. We've talked to the recruiter and he's told us what we have to do to qualify. He said the better shape we're in the easier it'll be in basic."

"And he told you to come here?" Jason asked.

"He mentioned that you might help get us shaped up."

"Well, he jumped the gun. I hadn't decided on that yet, but it looks like you're both in good shape," Jason said.

I almost laughed, thinking why'd we buy all those PE shorts and jockstraps and ball straps in Key West?

"We wanta have an edge. We go to school with Heath Hendricks and he said you were in the Marines. We're hoping you might agree to train us, put us through what we'll be facing in basic."

He thought for about a minute then replied. "Alright, but with certain conditions."

"Name 'em."

"It's my way or no way. You show up here on time on training days. You follow my instructions and orders without question. You can ask questions but you do not question. And I don't listen to excuses."

"Yes, sir, we can do that," Duncan said.

Jason looked at Marcus.

"Yes, sir," he said.

"Same goes with my partner, here. He's a Marine, too, and he'll be assisting me."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"When do you want to start?" Jason asked.

"As soon as you can."

Alright, be here at 0500 hours. Wear your gym shorts, white T-shirts and hiking boots; no sneakers."

"Five in the morning?" Marcus asked.

"That's what 0500 hours is," Jason said. "I want you when you're still fresh, mentally and physically."

"I'm not really all that fresh in the morning," the boy said.

Duncan kicked him under the table. "He just said no excuses," he said sternly.

"I'm sorry. We'll be here, sir."

"Look, boys, we'll do this but you should know, there are professional training camps for this. We happen to have a good buddy who has his own camp. We could put you in touch with him."

"No kidding! Which one? Maybe we called him."

"Levi Brant."

"Wow! What a coincidence! We did call him! But he's like all the rest; too far away and way too expensive. We can pay you but nothing close to what those places charge."

"Well there is one advantage with us. We don't charge," Jason said.

"Then maybe there's work we can do," Duncan said.

"We'll see about that," Jason said.

They didn't linger. They stood up, extended their hands and left.

Jason looked at me.

"Don't say it," I said.

"Don't say what?"

"You're about to say, what have I got myself into. You're going in with your eyes wide open. You jumped on it. You already bought all those PE shorts."

He laughed. "Didn't you see those boys? They're so damned eager. It's gonna be a pleasure working with them."

"Maybe not that kind of pleasure, though."

"We can only hope," he said.

The two boys were indeed enough to instill hope. Duncan, putting it simply, looked collegiate, tall, with dusty blonde hair and a lean build, he looked like he should be in white tennis shorts with a sweater tied around his neck. Marcus was more bulky athletic, heavily muscled, with a serious look on his handsome face that seemed to reinforce his muscularity.

Secretly, I was glad Jason was doing it. He was lost after all the boys left.

"How much do you want to be involved?" he asked.

"I can step in anywhere, anytime you want me."

He went into it wholeheartedly. He dug out his Marine fatigues to see how they fit. He had lost a little weight but they still fit him well. He just wasn't bulging out of them like he used to. His arms still filled out the rolled up sleeves very nicely. He even put a coat of polish on his combat boots. He brought out his web belt and mine, and washed the canteens and mess kits. He also found the hand grenades we had shipped back, and the bayonets. The grenades were disarmed, of course. I could sense his excitement. I dug out my stuff too, knowing I was going to be drawn into it, and willingly.

The boys were early, waiting when we went out the door the next morning. There were three of them.

"I hope you don't mind, sir, we brought a friend. This is Kurt Reiner. He thinks he wants to join the Marines but he hasn't talked to a recruiter yet."

Kurt, who I assumed was of German descent, definitely had the look of European ancestry. He was smaller of stature than the other two but with his blondish buzz cut and penetrating dark eyes, he had a look of tough determination; an air of "don't fuck with me." His well muscled body gave the look that he could back that up if he had to.

Orientation was fun and it brought back memories of my younger days as a raw recruit. Jason insisted that I stand with him for orientation.

"This will be an overview this morning, then some PT. There will be a LOT of PT," Jason began. "I will serve as the Senior D.I, or drill instructor. My partner will serve as Second Hat. He'll jump in from time to time. At basic you will also have a Third Hat. Never, EVER, call your drill instructor a "D.I." Your drill instructor is always referred to as "Drill Instructor, and his name and rank. We will dispense with those formalities here; you address us as Sergeant Seaborne and Sgt. Coulter."

"You will learn a new language in the Marines. You don't go "upstairs," you go "topside." Downstairs is "down below." Your bunk is a "rack." The toilette is "the head," not the latrine. The floor is the "deck." Walls are "bulkheads." Windows are "portholes". You face "forward." Behind you is "aft." Facing forward, left is "port," and right is "starboard." Do not refer to yourself as "me" or "I," it's "this recruit." Never, EVER, say the word, "you" to your drill instructor. You would not say, Sir, I don't understand your request, but Drill Instructor so and so, this recruit does not understand the drill instructor's request, Sir. And say it loud and clear. However, we will dispense with those formalities here; for the sake of brevity you can address us as sergeant or sir. But you still sound off like you've got a pair."

He looked at me for my input.

"We've got some workout gear for you," I said as I passed out the shorts. "Nothing fancy, but they're shorter than what you're wearing, they'll give you more range of motion. Sgt. Seaborne has jockstraps to wear under them," I added as Jason was passing out the Marine Corps jockstraps

"Wow! These are neat!" Duncan said, his eyes wide.

"Can't wait to wear this in the locker room."

"What're these going to cost us?"

"It's part of the program," Jason told them. "There's one more thing," he said, nodding to me, and I handed out the leather ball straps. "These are more novelty items, not standard issue by any means, but they do serve a purpose."

The boys held the straps, looking confused and curious.

"Alright, but you're going to have to explain," Duncan said.

"Remember I told you to sound off like you've got a pair. Wearing these will be a constant reminder that you do have a pair. You will not be issued these in basic."

"Okay, I'm starting to get the picture....I think....but I'm not sure I understand," Kurt said.

"Let's try everything on....the strap, the jock and the shorts," I said. They stared at me with a screwy look.

"Uhhh....here?" Duncan asked, looking all around.

"Yeah, here and now. There's nobody here but us," I said.

Kurt didn't even glance around. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his PE shorts and the others followed his lead. They pulled off their shorts then their regulation jockstraps, standing naked from the waist down. I took note that Kurt, other than his body; he was going to be a leader.

"Okay, I guess this goes on first," Kurt said, holding the leather strap. "But how, exactly?"

"I'll show you; you guys watch," I said. I put the strap under Kurt's balls and drew it up around the base of his cock and snapped it closed. "That too tight?"

"No, it feels....it feels good," he said.

At the same time, Jason was helping Marcus with his strap and Duncan put his own on.

"Hey, it does feel good," Marcus said.

"Yeah, I can see how it's a reminder that you've got a pair of balls," Duncan said. "These are neat."

"But not something you wanta wear in the locker room," I said. "In fact, you need to keep these out of sight."

The boys were greatly impressed with the jockstraps, and doubly so when they saw how the leather straps lifted up and out to enhance the bulk of their manhood.

"Fuck, this is awesome," Duncan, cupping his hand over the bulge in his jock.

"Yeah, these jockstraps are sharp," Kurt said.

"Now the shorts," Jason said.

They pulled the shorts on that we'd purchased for them.

"Wow! The strap sure makes a difference," Marcus said.

"Okay, you're strapped and equipped, let's get started," Jason said.

"By the way, Duncan and Marcus, you both need to get your hair cut before reporting tomorrow morning," I said. They looked surprised and two of them ran their hands over their heads. "Get it buzzed, like Kurt's," I said.

"My mom's gonna shit," Duncan said.

"My girl's not gonna like that," Marcus said, running his fingers through his hair.

"Do you need to tighten your ball strap?" I asked him.

"No, sir, I can feel my balls sure enough. The hair's gonna go," he said.

"Lacking the facilities of a military installation, we will still make it as realistic as possible for you," Jason continued. "We will cover the basics; close combat training, martial arts and weapons training with a rifle. Hand to hand combat, bayonet training, hand grenades, combat water survival,

"And a LOT of PT," I put in again.

"And we'll rig up some sort of obstacle course," Jason added.

"Any questions?" I asked.

"How often will we come out here?"

"Every morning, 0500 hours, except Sunday," I replied. They seemed surprised at that but they never said anything.

"What sports do you play?" Jason asked them.

"Football and wrestling," Marcus replied.

"Say again?" Jason barked.

"I play football and I wrestle."

Duncan punched him.

"Sir, this recruit plays football and wrestles, Sir," he replied correctly.

Jason looked at Kurt.

"Sir, this recruit does not play sports, Sir," Kurt said.

"How do you come to be built like you are, not playing any sports?" Jason asked.

"Sir, this recruit works out, Sir, and plays lacrosse for the sport of it," the boy replied smartly.

"Good. All of you continue to hit the weights, besides the PT you do here."

"Do you have workout facilities here?" Kurt asked.

He thought for a moment then, nodding, he said, "Yes, matter of fact, we do have a workout room upstairs. We'll make up a schedule for you."

We put them through a half hour of PT; jumping jacks, side bends, leg thrusts, leg lifts and toe touches, trunk twisters, push-ups. They held up pretty well. So did I, surprisingly. Jason dropped out after toe touches and paced around, instructing the boys on proper form while I led them in the exercises.

"Okay, we said this is an overview. We'll get into the guts of it tomorrow, 0500 hours. Come prepared to work."

When the boys were gone we went in to have breakfast. We had both given up eggs and bacon so I made oatmeal. Jason picked at his and mostly ate the blackberries out of it and washed them down with coffee. He looked tired and he seemed winded. We had a second cup of coffee out on the porch then we set about turning the place into a military training camp. Short runs and wind sprints would be up and down the lane. Longer runs and hikes would be along the railroad path where the tracks had long been removed. The firing range was no problem but the obstacle course would be a challenge.

"We've got the board fence they can climb over, and the rope swing up in the hayloft," I pointed out.

"Yeah, we can have them climbing all over the barn, and jumping out of the hayloft into a pile of hay," Jason said.

"We ought to be able to put the oak tree to good use; make 'em climb it and come down a rope."

"I'll rig up a heavy rope from the hayloft door across to the light post for them to crawl down, and maybe fill up that big hole with water."

"And tell them there's an alligator in it?" I joked.

"Even if they don't fall in it, we'll make them crawl through it."

I added carrying cement blocks from point A to point B.

"And towards the end we do it all at night," Jason put in.

We got a call later in the day asking if it would be okay to bring another boy on Saturday.

"Well, I guess we need to make a run to the army surplus store, see if we can find some Marine Corps T-shirts," Jason said.

It was another expensive run. Besides the T-shirts-we bought the dozen they had--to be on the safe side, we purchased six more web belts with canteens and mess kits and on a whim I picked up twelve field caps. We also bought some dummy hand grenades and a supply of MREs. We would've bought bayonets but there was only one and it was $135.00. We decided to make do with the two we brought back from Vietnam. Jason grabbed up some face paint then counted out all the back packs that were on the shelf.

The next day, Saturday, four boys showed up. The new boy's name was Seb Foster; Seb, short for Sebastian. He was a mix of the other three; tall, very muscular with an unruly shock of light brown hair and darker eyebrows that set off his sparkling eyes. There was something unique about him; best description would be that he had a look of culture about him with a bad boy look hidden underneath. He seemed to have a permanent smile and he was drop dead good looking.

We outfitted him with the new gear we'd purchased and Jason told the boys they should try to get some military style pants.

"Do I change into this now?" Seb asked, holding up the shorts and jockstrap. He'd snapped the leather strap around his wrist.

"Yeah, here and now," Marcus told him.

"No disrespect, sir, but I intend to go in the Army. I wanta be a ranger," he said, holding out the Marine jockstrap.

"Not a problem," I said as I dug out an Army green jock and tossed it to him.

He was still a little shy about changing and even turned his back to the others but I noticed they watched him from the back. He had great legs and an awesome ass. Kurt told him the strap didn't go around his wrist.

"Where, then?" he asked.

"Around your balls," Kurt said.


"As a reminder that you've got a pair. Trust me, it works. You're gonna feel the testosterone."

Seb removed the strap from his wrist but he still wasn't sure and when he hesitated Kurt took the strap.

"Pull your shorts and jock down," he told him. Seb gave him a shocked double take. "Pull 'em down."

He did then, and Kurt put the strap under his balls and drew it up around his cock and snapped it.

"That's tight," Seb said.

"Pull your jockstrap up," Kurt said.

Seb pulled the jockstrap up and hefted his manhood into the pouch. "Yeah, I see what you mean," he said with a smile as he smoothed his hand down over the front.

I took note again that Kurt was a natural leader. I also took note of Seb's manhood.

We had them don the web belts and told them to fill their canteens from the faucet alongside the house. Remembering that Jason had eased out of PT before, I'd put on my old shorts to lead them in PT. We did the usual warm-ups then I took charge of putting them through PT. I headed down the lane with them in tow. I didn't know how far we would run but I wanted to see how they held up. It was interesting and fun the way passersby honked and waved and the boys even got some catcalls. Two miles down the road I turned off the road into the old railroad path where the tracks had been taken up years earlier. It made a perfect running path with the tall trees and heavy growth of foliage on either side of us, like running down a green tunnel.

Well down the path I heard one of the boys say, "Damn, he's in good shape for an old guy."

"I wouldn't call him old to his face if I were you; he's liable to stomp your ass in the ground," another boy said.

"Yeah, he could move a tank with those legs."

"I bet he played rugby in college."

"Yeah, he's got rugby thighs for sure, and a rugby ass."

I smiled and removed my T-shirt. It was intentional; we were working up a good sweat and I wanted to see these boys' muscles gleaming in the sunlight. I figured it wouldn't hurt for them to see the old guy's muscles as well.

I clocked us at about two miles then turned around and delivered them back to Jason who was waiting on the porch. He stood when he saw us coming up the lane, set his coffee cup down and came down off the porch

"Worked up a good sweat, I see," he greeted us.

"Yeah, not bad for an old guy," I said with a tight grin directed at the boys.

Kurt cringed and whispered, "Oh, shit!

The others fought back tight smiles. Jason took over.

"This morning you're going to learn hand-to-hand combat with some martial arts thrown in," Jason began. "It is sometimes called close-combat-training but there is a difference. Close combat training can be with your rifle. Hand-to-hand is without your rifle although it can include the use of a bayonet. We will not be using bayonets this morning. Only your bare hands."

"In a situation using hand-to-hand with or without a bayonet, you are face to face with the enemy. You can smell his sweat. More importantly, you can feel his strength, and you can see in his eyes. And what you see there is the determination that he will kill you before you kill him. We can't let that happen. The key to not letting that happen is to be better stronger and better trained than he is. It's called nut cutting time, gentlemen."

He demonstrated on Duncan while I followed his lead with Marcus. Both boys responded well. They were strong and they were quick. Then we took on Seb and Kurt. Seb was very strong and Kurt was quick as a rattlesnake. Repetition being key, we did it over and over again with all four of them. Then we turned the shirtless boys loose on each other with Jason haranguing at every turn.

Not surprisingly, Kurt took on Marcus, leaving Seb and Duncan to spar with each other. Marcus was bigger and stronger but Kurt proved his agility by pivoting away and then instantly attacking. It was a pleasure to watch him in action.

"Fuckin' shit, you're quicker than a prairie dog," Marcus growled.

"Keep in mind, there's a boy somewhere in the world who is your enemy," Jason barked at them. "He's your age, about your size and he's training to destroy you and all you stand for. That boy, right now, is facing you. Do you feel his strength? You have to be stronger. Do you smell his sweat? If you don't, you're not close enough to take him down."

At one point Seb broke and pulled out his canteen.

"Nobody told you to drink!" I barked. I surprised myself giving the command but it was so natural the way it came out of my past.

"Yes, sir," he said sheepishly, and put it back.

When he went back into the skirmish he was met by Kurt. It was funny to see the surprise on Seb's face when he saw Kurt facing him in a challenging stance. Kurt didn't hesitate; he attacked like a cobra and took Seb down like a sack of potatoes.

"Geezuss, where'd that come from?" Seb said.

Kurt got up and extended his hand to Seb to pull him to his feet.

"No!" Jason bellowed. "You are not here to win a sportsmanship award! You do not help him up, you do not let him up. Geezuss Christ, why don't you just kiss him while you've got him down! The attack is fuckin' useless unless you follow through. Now you destroy him!"

It looked like Seb was starting to get up on his own and Kurt was going to let him. But suddenly he lunged and took him back to the ground in a hold that we hadn't taught him, on his stomach with his right leg and arm locked together and a choke hold around his neck.

"Whoa! Where'd that come from?" Jason said.

I was wondering the same thing. I'd never seen anything like it even in advanced basic. Kurt held him while looked up at Jason, for his approval or permission to release him.

"Good job," Jason said, nodding. "Where did you learn that?"

"I was in a survival training group when I was back home in Germany," he said.

"So you are from Germany.

"Yes, sir, I spend summers there, except this summer."

"In that hold, how would you make use of a bayonet?" Jason asked

"I wouldn't use a bayonet, I would snap his neck," he replied.

I was as bit shaken inside as "skinhead" came to mind. I wondered what kind of survival training he'd had. I was seeing him in a different light-how lethal he was-and noticed he had a steely-eyed look. When he broke his hold, he stood without offering to help Seb up. I didn't think it was anything personal; he was simply adhering to the training.

At one point Seb pulled his T-shirt up to wipe the seat off his face and neck, exposing his ripped, tanned abs, gleaming with sweat.

"Show off," Marcus said.

"If you had abs like that you'd show them off too," Kurt said.

"Why don't you come over here and lick the sweat off my abs," Seb said smartly.

"Naw, I'm saving my tongue for your sweaty balls," Marcus shot back.

We repeated hand-to-hand on Monday with all its variations again without a bayonet or rifle. I was pleasantly surprised how quickly they'd learned the skill and how proficient they were. There was more PT of course and the boys were happy to hear that we were making the workout room available. Jason showed them where he'd hidden a house key in the freezer compartment of the small refrigerator on the porch.

"Wow, you're giving us the key to your house?" Duncan said.

"In a very short time I would trust you with my life, is there any reason why I shouldn't trust you with the key to my house?"

"No, sir," the boy replied sheepishly.

We'd talked about seeing if we could find an M1 Garand rifle to make the bayonet training more authentic. Jason found one but didn't buy it because it was over nine hundred dollars.

"Go back and get it," I told him.

On the next training day we added bayonets to the hand to hand. As before, Jason demonstrated the use of the bayonet, using his own, and I followed along with another boy using mine. It was gratifying to see how seriously they took the training; the transformation from teenage jocks to would-be killers. Perhaps it shouldn't have been, but these boys were wanting to be Marines. I was also again surprised how proficient Kurt was with the bayonet. When I commented on that he said his group in Germany trained with bayonets.

Then Kurt asked, "Will we be training with the bayonet out of the scabbard?"

"No," I replied.

He just nodded and I was left wondering again about his survival training group.

We repeated every phase of training several times before moving on to the next phase. After hand-to-hand and bayonet we introduced the boys to hand grenades, stressing distance, accuracy and for God's sake, get down. I was pleased with their accuracy in throwing the grenades. And through it all, more PT. The boys ate it up. They liked being challenged. We broke from technical training one day and spent the entire morning hiking, running and went on a forced-march. I should say I did. Jason went as far as the end of the lane and turned them over to me. It wasn't like him and I was starting to worry.

I was very happy to receive a note from Logan, along with short notes from his siblings. He loved the shorts and said he was sharing them with Lonnie. He hid the swim suits and he and Lonnie were trading them back and forth when they went swimming under the stone bridge. He said they didn't keep them on very long, though.

The big day came when we introduced weapons and live ammo. Kurt was a hunter; no surprise there. He said he hunted wild boar in the forests in Germany. I suspected he'd learned the use of firearms for more than hunting. Marcus liked to target shoot but Duncan and Seb had never handled a gun. We started them out on a Ruger 45. Jason explained the nomenclature of the gun then showed them how to hold and fire it. Even the non-shooters took to it like ducks to water. These boys were serious about becoming Marines.

The next session we brought out our Savage 223. It wasn't a military weapon but it was considered close to military grade. I showed them how to field strip and reassemble it and how to clean it. After several practice runs I blindfolded them to field strip and reassemble it. Firing the weapons was expensive and we had to restock our ammo a couple of times. We kept the M1 as the last weapon they would train on.

"You will not be using this weapon; it is World War II vintage. A collectors' item," Jason explained. "The purpose of using it here is to get you comfortable with various weapons, and it figures in bayonet training. And it's fun to shoot."

The boys thought so, too, although there were some sore thumbs learning how to load the clip. I repeated field stripping of the M1. Before they were allowed to fire the weapon, Jason taught the use of the rifle with bayonet.

"The most dreaded order in the military lexicon is fix bayonets. It is an order of last resort. It means you are going to engage the enemy face-to-face, eyeball-to-eyeball. You are going to see the fear in his eyes, and behind that fear, the determination that he is going to kill you before you kill him. You are going to feel his strength against yours. I can teach you the proper use of a bayoneted rifle but there is no order in close-order combat. You thrust the bayonet wherever possible but I can tell you that the best way is a thrust upward just beneath the breastbone which will drive the blade directly into the heart. Having said that......"

He stopped talking and led the boys out beside the barn where we had set bales of hay up against the side of the barn to serve as practice dummies. The boys took to it with great enthusiasm, thrusting at the targets placed at critical points representing the heart, lungs, stomach and groin. Jason stopped them once to berate them because they weren't making enough noise.

"You enhance the element of surprise and disorienting the enemy if you're yelling at the top of your lungs as you attack."

They responded with a ferocity that surprised us. That was especially true of Kurt. We had only one M1 rifle and I'd gone back to the Army surplus store and bought the bayonet that would fit. For training, I taped one of our own bayonets to the Savage. I really don't know why I gave the M1 to Kurt; I suppose because I felt he could handle it better than the other boys. He asked again if they were going to remove the scabbards from the bayonets. I was right, he handled the weapon and did the drills like a trained expert. So well that he scared the crap out of Seb. I still purposely paired him with Seb because I thought it would do him good to have that feeling of fear in his gut.

The obstacle course we'd devised was another challenge the boys accepted with determination. It was a pleasure to see how they supported and encouraged one another. Marcus landed in the big hole I'd filled with water when he did the rope climb but the others maneuvered it successfully. There were a lot of cuts and bruises but only one time that required first aid. That brought Sebastian's mother storming out to our place, along with her son. She looked angry as she got out of the car. Seb looked angry, too, and embarrassed and tight-jawed.

"Are you mister Seaborne?" she asked in a demanding tone when I answered the door and stepped out on the porch.

"No, he's not here at the moment. Can I help you?"

"You can tell me what you are doing to my son, coming out here to learn to kill....tell me what you were making him do to warrant this." She laid her hand gently on the side of his neck where he'd suffered a bad cut along with bruises on his face when he was climbing and coming down the rope in the tree."

"We are teaching him what he asked to learn," I said calmly.

"Are you licensed?"

"No, Ma'am, what we're doing doesn't require a license. We do not advertise or solicit and we do not charge. The boys came to us all on their own."

"And that gives you license to treat young boys in this manner?"

I wanted to light into her but I maintained my composure out of respect for Seb. "Ma'am, he wants to be a Marine; it's not a picnic."

"I've taken him to a doctor; he should have had stitches," she snapped.

"He said I'm healing fine, Mom," Seb put in. "It won't even leave a scar."

Ignoring him, she turned on me again. "I think you will be hearing from our lawyer."

"No, he won't!" Seb barked angrily. "I chose to do this. I asked these men to train me. I am eighteen. I do not need your permission to do this training, or to go join the Marines."

I thought she was going to bust a blood vessel, she was so angry; more so now that her son had stood up to her.

"You are a despicable man, teaching these boys how to use guns and to kill," she spat.

"Like it or not, that's part of what being a Marine is all about," I said. "I would hope you might be proud of him, and I think you will be."

She glared at him, gave me another dagger stare then walked off the porch.

"I apologize for my mother," Seb said under his breath.

"No need to apologize, she's your mother," I said.

"I will see you tomorrow," he said.

The training sessions continued. Jason put the boys through combat water survival back in the creek. It was a rugged course back when, and he remembered how to make it tough. He taught them how to get past obstacles in the water; him being the obstacle. He did his near best to drown them. When he had demonstrated he turned them loose on each other. It was a grueling thing to see, but very effective, and very enjoyable to see all of that young, wet, rippling muscle.

We sat on the creek bank and watched. Again, I was especially impressed with Kurt's prowess in the water. He damn near drowned the others.

"These boys are really shaping up," he said. "They're going to make fine Marines. Especially Reiner. He is tough."

I noticed Jason was still winded.

I was looking forward to the end of the training sessions myself; I was getting tired of getting up early to face four eager teenagers then go off to work.

At the next early morning formation Kurt requested permission to speak. We did not have question-and-answer periods but we did entertain requests to speak

"Yes, Reiner," I said.

"This may sound like a dumb question but I've been wanting to ask it. Are we supposed to not have sex while we're in training? I ask because I had a coach when I was a freshman who told us we shouldn't have sex while playing sports because it would drain our strength. I was wondering, what's the Marine's stance on that?

"Did you refrain from sex while playing sports?" I asked.

"No, sir. The only sex I was having was with my fist but I didn't stop doing that and I never noticed any signs of weakness.

"I never either, and I jacked off every day," Marcus put in. "Hell, it got me pumped up for the game."

"I can't say that the Marines has an official stance on sex except they don't allow jacking off or consorting openly with fellow Marines, all of which happens routinely under the radar."

"But officially, here, should we be refraining from sex?" he asked.

"Doesn't make a lick of difference to me as long as you show up and turn in a good performance," I said.

"Well, I just wanta add, for the possible benefit of the others, that I've been doing it with the ball strap and it's awesome. First time I did it I felt like I was exploding when I shot my load. I shot about six or eight feet and I didn't know where it was all coming from. You guys might wanta try it."

The boys had been making use of our weight room, mostly when we were there but a couple of times I came home to find them already there and working out. As I went upstairs I heard them talking. Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I lingered back to eavesdrop. I was glad I did.

"You keep saying your country. You're an American, right?" It was Duncan talking.

"But I was born in Germany," Kurt said.

"So, do you hold German citizenship, too?"

"No. My father is American so that's what makes me an American citizen."

"But you refer to Germany as your country."

"And in Germany I refer to America as my country. I have loyalties to both, because I am American by birth but I have German blood."

"It's fuckin' complicated, but go ahead, you were talking about sex ed in Germany," Duncan said.

"It's not exactly sex ed, it's just the way things are. Sex is more open and free. It's not such a huge deal like it is here. I mean, it is for the individual, but it's not such a huge deal to society. For instance, when my parents found out I was having sex, all they said was to be careful about STDs and they didn't want to be grandparents so soon. And gays have served in the military for years while we're just getting around to it here. Men here are scared to death of even being perceived as gay. Like, I've seen two guys walk into a movie theater and they won't sit together; they always sit with an empty seat between them. Like sitting next to each other and rubbing shoulders is going to turn them gay."

"Well, there might be that perception."

"That's total ignorance," said Kurt. "Having a beer isn't going to make you an alcoholic. Liking brats and sauerkraut doesn't make you German. Guys messing around together don't make them gay; it makes them two guys messing around together."

"What if I get to liking beer, so much I can't stop drinking it?" Duncan said. "That could turn me into an alcoholic. What if I liked messing around with another guy and that turned into messing around with lots of other guys? That'd be more than a perception. That'd be gay in anybody's book."

"That happens; you evolve and come to the realization that you're gay. So what? It's not a crime, at least not in the US or Germany."

"Have you ever had sex with another boy?" Duncan asked. "I mean real sex, something besides jacking off together."

"Yes, but it wasn't with another boy. It was with another man."

"No shit!" Duncan exclaimed. "How'd it happen? How old were you?"

"You gotta promise not to tell the others," Kurt said. "I'm not ashamed of it but I don't wanta put up with all the guff from the others."

"I promise. I swear I won't say a word, ever," Duncan said.

"If you ever do, I'll cut your balls off and feed 'em to you."

"You've got my word."

"It happened on a train when I was in Germany, just recently. I'd just turned eighteen. I was riding in coach and I like to ride in the backwards seats. There was this guy two seats away from me and he kept looking at me. I was looking at him too but I was noticing his build. He was massive. Found out later he was a rugby player. But he kept looking right at me; making eye contact. It was getting weird, but a good kind of weird. Funny feelings were going through me like I never had before. I was even kinda breaking out in a sweat. I almost moved to another seat but something kept me where I was. I tried avoiding his looks but I kept being drawn back to his steely looks. It was like he could look into my soul, like he knew I was uncomfortable with him looking at me like that but I couldn't move away. Finally, suddenly, I got up and headed to the restroom. I didn't have to go but I wanted to splash cold water on my face. About a minute after I went into the restroom-I was bent over the sink splashing cold water on my face-I heard the door open. I knew without looking around that it was him. He said something like, 'getting kinda warm in the car' as he stepped up to the urinal which was right next to the sink and that's when I knew he was a rugby player 'cause he was wearing rugby shorts. I didn't turn my head to look or anything but I could see in my peripheral vision. You know how rugby shorts fit....they don't just show a lot of thigh, they shall all of the thigh, and he had thighs like tree trunks. Suddenly my face felt hot even though I'd just splashed cold water on it. I grabbed some paper towels as I straightened up from the sink and hid my face in them."

"Anyway, he wasn't there to take a piss either. He hadn't even taken his cock out. He stepped away from the urinal and moved around behind me like he was waiting for the sink, even though there was another sink. Suddenly he moved right up behind me, pressing himself hard against me. He was solid and warm, especially the big lump I felt against my butt. He said, 'I'm big on visuals, too, as long as it leads to something" and he wrapped his arms around me. He had my arms pinned to my sides. Then he asked me if I liked to get fucked. I told him no, loud and clear, and I tried to get free but he had me locked in a bear hug. I could hardly even breathe. He said, 'Well, kid, it's your ass or your mouth."

"There was no getting away from him and no escaping the restroom. My only hope was that somebody would come in but he must've read my mind and he told me he'd locked the door so we had the rest of the way to Frankfurt to have fun. I said I couldn't breathe but it wasn't because he was holding me so tight 'cause he was actually holding me kinda loose and gentle. It was because I was so scared. But then I knew it was because I was so excited. Shit, I had a hardon from feeling him pressed against me like that. He asked me which it was gonna be, my ass or my mouth. He told me he really wanted to fuck me but he said it wouldn't be rape because he could make me want it. He was still giving me a choice but I was afraid he would make the choice for me if I didn't make it pretty quick. I finally told him, 'Okay, I'll suck you.' I couldn't believe I'd just told a guy I would suck his cock but the words were out there and there was no taking them back."

"But I wasn't going to be sucking his cock. Not really. I'd just offered my mouth for his pleasure because it was the least of the choices he'd given me. Didn't mean I had to enjoy it, which I had no intention of doing. I almost fainted when he shoved his shorts down. I did feel weak in the knees. He had the biggest cock I'd ever seen. It hung way out over his hand, really thick, like a fat sausage. I could only imagine how big he would be when he was hard and that scared me. If he shoved it down my throat I couldn't make a sound and I had this horrible picture of being found passed out on the restroom floor. He pushed me to my knees with one hand, which didn't take much 'cause my knees were already shaking. Anyway, there I am, face to face with his enormous cock and he smacking my face with it and rubbing it across my lips, smearing them with precum and I flicked my tongue out to lick it off. I hated that I did that but it was instinctive. He told me to open up and get him hard."

"I opened my mouth and fuck if my tongue didn't push out, like I was eager to suck him. I wasn't, and I hated that I did that too but it was like if somebody offers you a taste of ice cream, you put your tongue out to take it. Next thing I know, my mouth is stuffed full of his cock and I feel it pulsating, getting bigger and harder and pushing against my throat. He had hold of my head and I was scared he was going to impale me on it. It felt like the head of his cock was going to burst through my throat and I found my strength and wrested back from him. I told him I would suck him but I couldn't swallow his cock; it was too big. He was real nice about it; he apologized and eased his grip on my head and started fucking my mouth. I didn't have any choice but to be okay with it."

"The movement of the train kept throwing me off balance and I wrapped my arms around his thighs to hold on, and gripped his butt. He wasn't brutal or intentionally rough; he was just a rugby player getting his sex the way he was accustomed. I thought of the women he fucked and how they must feel with all that muscle on top of them, plowing them with all of his huge cock. A couple of times there was somebody trying to get in the restroom but he ignored them and they went away. He kept looking at his watch. After about the third time he wrapped his hands around my head again and said we had to kick it up a notch; we would be pulling into the station soon. I didn't know what he meant by that....what else I could be doing....but he started fucking my mouth faster. I held onto his thighs for dear life and let him use me. He was causing me to slobber and my spit was running down my chin. Suddenly he grunted and gasped and growled that he was cumming. I was horrified that he would cum in my mouth and I tried to pull off but he held my head tighter. He said, 'No, kid, you're gonna take it. You don't have to swallow, you can spit it out if you want, but you're gonna take my load.' I thought, Oh Godd, he's gonna cum in my mouth."

"I tried to psyche myself up for it but nothing couldn've prepared me for the next couple of minutes. His cock exploded in my mouth. I couldn't even imagine cumming so hard, and shooting so much cum. The stuff started running out the corners of my mouth and I panicked that I was going to choke. He kept fucking my mouth and several times he came close to shoving his cock into my throat. I held on; he couldn't go on forever, and I started counting down the seconds. Finally he was finishing up; I could feel his cock starting to deflate. I waited, still counting, till he pulled his cock out of my mouth. It fell wet and sticky against my arm with a soft smack. He said, 'Wow and holy shit,' and some more stuff. Then he told me, 'You did good, kid. You're a good little cocksucker,' as he was stuffing his cock back in his shorts. It pissed me off that he said that. I hadn't sucked his cock; he'd simply used my mouth. But then I remembered; I had actively sucked him. In the frenzied heat of the moment I did move my mouth back and forth on his cock. I shut that out of my mind, more horrified that I had a mouthful of cum and tasted awful."

"He told me I needed to swallow or spit it out and get up off my knees because he was going to open the door. I staggered getting up and he steadied me over to the sink. I gripped the edge of the sink, working up the courage to spit the stuff out; I was afraid when I did, I would throw up. He didn't wait. He thanked me and I saw in the mirror the door opening and heard him say something to somebody right outside the door. I hung my head and let the cum drain out of my mouth. It fell in the sink in a huge glob and just lay there, covering the drain stopper, while I spit more out. Someone came in and I quickly turned on the water; but not soon enough. He'd heard me spitting and now he saw the mass of thick cum washing around in the sink. He said, 'Fuck, that was a hell of a load. Was that all one load?' I was so embarrassed. I rushed out of the restroom and made my way back to my seat, horrified now that I had a hardon! I slipped into my seat, my face felt so hot I knew it must be red."

"The rugby player was in his seat and he smiled at me and winked. I looked out the window. Godd, why did I get hard sucking his cock! Suddenly I felt a presence beside me. I looked up and it was him. He handed me a Coke and said it would wash down the taste. I took it. I even thanked him. A few minutes later we pulled into the station. He got up first, walked past me and squeezed my shoulder and said, 'Thanks again.' I stayed in my seat till the train came to a stop. I could hardly walk when I stood up. The other guy came out of the restroom just as I stepped into the aisle. He smiled and winked and gave me a thumbs up. I thought, Godd, I'm marked. But it went away eventually. I've put it behind me, determined that it wouldn't change me. And it hasn't. It didn't turn me gay. I still like girls."

"But you still remember it; you just told it to me," Duncan said.

"Well, yeah, you don't ever forget something like that. But you bury it."

"When you remember it, like now, is there anything good that you remember?"

"Good? No. But some of it....certain things....I've never forgotten the rugby player and how he was built. And I've never forgotten how it felt to have my arms wrapped around his massive thighs. But those aren't sexual thoughts; I just remember because I was so impressed with his thighs."

"What about holding onto his butt?" Duncan said.

"He had a rugby butt; what can I say."

"Do you ever think about what it'd been like if he'd fucked you?"

"No, I don't dwell on that 'cause it didn't happen." He laughed. "If he had I would still be on that train, trying to get up out of my seat."

"Can I ask you something?" Duncan said.


"If I was to ever get my legs built up like his-rugby thighs-for you to hold onto, would you suck my cock?"

"No! I told you I'm not gay!"

I eased back from the door and went back downstairs, nursing a raging hardon and more certain doubts about Kurt Reiner.

The recruiter called about two more boys wanting to join the training. I put him off. I had the present squad most of the way through the course, I couldn't finish with them and start two newbies at the same time. Meanwhile, the boys brought two more of their friends. Rather than put them off, I called the recruiter and told him to send his two boys out; we would start a new cycle. My solution was to put Kurt Reiner in charge of the newbies. I could take him through the rest of the course so he wouldn't miss anything. I gave him the rank of corporal. We only wore T-shirts so there was no rank on his sleeve but I bought corporal stripes and told him to have them sewn on his cap.

Jason was on hand for the brief orientation. I introduced him first.

"This is Sgt. Seaborne. He is in charge of the program. I am his assistant."

Even though he was not so physically involved in the training I always accorded him the greatest respect, as did the boys when he appeared on the scene. Their respect was salted with a bit of fear.

There were some surprised looks from Duncan and Marcus and Seb when I introduced Reiner to the four new boys.

"This is Corporal Reiner. He will be your Drill Instructor. You will address him as Corporal. His orders will carry the weight of my rank as well as the rank of Sgt. Seaborne."

Reiner seemed glad to have the responsibility and he took it seriously. Sometimes a little too seriously. He was a hard taskmaster. He gave orders like a professional. At the orientation he took charge of outfitting the new guys without being told. It was fun to watch him.

"You'll need to get your hair cut before reporting tomorrow. Buzz cuts, like mine," he said as he lifted his cap and brushed his hand over his head. "Now, you need to strip down to your boots; here are the uniforms you'll be wearing," he said, holding up a handful of garments. I didn't realize he'd rolled the PT shorts, jockstraps and T-shirts in tight bundles and snapped the ball straps around them.

When they hesitated, he barked, "What part of strip down did you not understand? I do not like to repeat myself, gentlemen!"

They hurriedly started taking off their clothes. They were an impressive bunch; lean and tight-bodied and well muscled. Reiner passed out their uniforms. The boys seemed pleased with the military jocks and the shorts but they apparently thought the leather straps were simply to hold the bundles together, for they were tossed aside. As they were pulling on the jockstraps he stopped them.

"Retrieve the leather straps, I will demonstrate how they are worn," he told them.

Still confused, they picked up the straps. Reiner took one and pulled it up under the boy's balls and snapped it around the base of his cock. "If that's too tight, you can adjust it to your comfort level." Then to the four boys in general, "These are what I refer to as testosterone straps. They are issued for you to wear as a reminder that you've got a pair of balls."

When they were dressed he began PT. He demonstrated then followed up with every boy to make sure he was doing the exercises right. He was not kind or gentle; there was no room for compromise. I turned my attention to the other boys and left Reiner and his squad alone.

Occasionally I went to observe the new squad. I had not given Reiner a training schedule to follow; I thought he was smart enough to do that on his own. I was surprised to see that he had moved from PT right into hand-to-hand. And as before, as had happened with him, he was berating a boy for extending his hand to help his defeated opponent up.

"No! Fuck, why don't you just make love to him while you've got him down! DO NOT assist your opponent in any way. You take him down then you finish him off. Now get down there and show me how you would accomplish that!"

The boys were embarrassed, I thought because I had appeared on the scene to witness the tirade. Reiner instructed the two boys through the maneuver then paired up the other two boys, then came over to me.

"I'm going to stop using the term opponent and start using enemy. Opponent sounds too sporty and this is not a sport."

"Very well," I said. "But this isn't rushing it, is it, jumping right into hand-to-hand?"

"I don't think so. These guys are catching on fast, Sergeant. In fact I would like permission to introduce bayonet training next session. And without the scabbard, if I may,"

"No," I said. "It's too dangerous."

"War is a dangerous game," he said. "And frankly, I think training with the scabbard is too much like using rubber knives."

"No," I said again.

"As you wish," he said with curt politeness.

"Listen, can you hang back when we're done for the morning?"

"Certainly, sir."

Jason asked me why I'd ask him to stay back.

"I need to rein him in a little."

He laughed. "Being too tough on the little darlings? Hell, turn him loose."

"Not too tough. It's how he goes about things with a vengeance."

"Just don't break his spirit," Jason said.

When the boys had all left I went out to meet Reiner. I wanted to talk to him away from Jason.

"What's up, Sergeant? I can ease up if you think I'm being too rough on them?

"There is some of that but no, we're going to let things stand for the time being. I would really like to know about that survival training camp you attend back in Germany."

"What do you wanta know, Sergeant?"

"We can drop the formalities," I said.

"All due respect, Sir, I would rather not."

"As you wish. I can't help noticing how proficient you are in your own training, and how you've taken to training the other boys."

"You mean I'm too eager."

"No. Proficient is the word. Exactly what do they teach in your camp? Who sponsors it?"

He bit his lower lip, like he was fighting back anger. "I know what you're thinking, Sergeant," he said as he pulled off his cap. "This doesn't make me a skinhead," he said, rubbing his buzz cut. "Hell, you told the others to get their hair cut like mine."

"I'm not making accusations, Reiner," I said.

"In a subtle way I think you are, Sir. Otherwise, why are you asking me these questions?"

"I'm curious."

"Which comes as a result of how you observed my training methods. I am an American citizen by birth. I am also German by blood. It's in my nature to give everything I've got to everything I do. But I'm not a Nazi. My father wasn't a Nazi. I don't know if my grandfather was or not, but I tend to believe he was. It's called a survival training camp, and it is that, but survival is not the reason I'm in the program. I've studied Hitler and his cronies. I'm in the program to make damn sure I'm prepared if some bunch of nutballs like them crawls out of the sewers and tries it again. The same reason you and Jason trained and put on the uniform, the same reason we're training these boys. I'm not your enemy, Sergeant; we're on the same side."

I was suddenly filled with regret that I'd brought it up, but I didn't apologize. I couldn't, and he wouldn't expect me to.

"Well, I think we've cleared things up, Reiner," I said.

"Have we?" he asked.

"We have as far as I'm concerned," I said. "And for what it's worth, I'm glad we're on the same side. I sure as hell wouldn't want you on the other side."

"Am I to continue being your assistant?" he asked.


"Thank you, Sir."

"Don't thank me. You earned those corporal stripes."

Reiner asked if the new squad should be given access to the house key to use the weight room. I told him absolutely; we didn't want to give the impression that we didn't trust them.

Jason strongly suggested that take the boys on a twenty-mile march the following Saturday. He said that was next on his training schedule. I didn't want to-hell, I wasn't sure I could hike twenty miles-but I told him I would. I was sure the reason he asked me was because he didn't think he could make it. I was still worried about him.

"Make it a night march. It's a good time to throw in food and sleep deprivation," he said.

It was a grueling march. Butts were dragging and stomachs were growling. But no one fell out and no one complained, at least not within earshot. When we got back about three in the morning the boys collapsed in the yard and on the porch. Duncan flopped down on the porch swing. I told them they were free to stay and sleep anywhere they could find. I managed to get inside to the couch.

I woke up from a hard sleep to the sound of somebody throwing up. I figured it was one of the boys, sick from the march. I jumped up and went outside. The boys were all asleep. I went back inside, realizing it was Jason. I rushed upstairs and into the bathroom just as he flushed the toilette.

"You all make it back okay?" he asked, wiping his face on a towel.

"We'll see in a few hours how okay everyone is," I said, taking the towel. I noticed blood on it. "I think it's time to tell me what's going on," I said.

He didn't answer me. I followed him into the bedroom where he flopped down on the bed.

"Jason, what's wrong? You haven't been yourself lately."

"None of those young studs have seduced you yet? Any one of them would be a fine replacement."

"Stop! This has nothing to do with sex. You've seen a doctor, haven't you? Tell me. I have a right to know."

"Yes....you do. I've been dreading this....telling you. I've got cancer."

Oh My Godd reverberated in my head but I didn't let the words come out. I couldn't hide the pained shock on my face, though.

"That's the reason I didn't want to tell you....that look," he said.

"Where?" I asked.

"Pretty much all over....all through me. Some of it is inoperable."

I hurt so bad I was on the verge of bursting out in tears. I hurt for him and I hurt for me. But I was thinking ahead.

"What treatment do they recommend?" I asked.

"The usual; chemo and radiation."

"Well then, when....."

"No," he said, holding up a hand. "I'm not going through that. I'm not going to pump my body full of poison and still die a miserable death."

"Jason, you can't give up," I choked.

"It's not giving up!" he barked. "It's a conscious decision I've made how to deal with it. I wish to God it was a more honorable and heroic way to go, especially after all we've been through together but sometimes we don't get our wishes. All I can ask for now is to keep the pain tolerable and have you there."

"You know that's a given," I said.

"Right to the end. That's what will make it an honorable death, having you there right to the end."

"You know I will be."

"And enjoying the time we have left."

"How much time is that?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Six months or so."

I lost it. I cried like a baby while Jason held me.

"Fuck, I should be holding you," I blustered.

"You are holding me," he said. "He said there'll be good days," he added as if it were a consolation. "Oh, and we have to finish with these boys; we review every facet of their training then put 'em through bivouac. And then some kind of graduation ceremony for them."

"Yes," I said quietly. "We need to tell our boys. All of them."

"Not yet," he said.

"Jason, they....."

"I need time to figure out how to tell them," he said.

"Don't take too long. Kyle comes home, he's going to figure out something's wrong and he'll tell Devon."

I switched the last training sessions from early morning to the afternoon to make it easier on Jason. He wasn't actively involved but he liked being there. It was mostly re-runs of everything they'd learned with Jason critiquing.

It was a Saturday when we were finishing up and Marcus' car wouldn't start. The other boys had already gone and it was too late to get a tow truck.

"I can drive you home, or you can stay the night and be here when a tow truck comes in the morning," I said.

Marcus thought it over for a moment then said he needed to call his parents to tell them he wouldn't be home. I hadn't really thought about what I'd done till we were eating supper and I noticed the way Jason was stealing sly glances at the boy. When we'd finished eating Marcus went out to roll the windows up in his car. I looked at Jason with a steady, knowing gaze.

His smile turned into a chuckle and he said, "I was going to tell you, let you in on it."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Up in the hayloft. The other guys had gone on. Marcus said he sprained his ankle when he landed from the rope climb."

"Did he?" I asked.

"No," he said with a quiet chuckle. "It was a come on. I knelt down to examine his ankle and he told me it hurt up higher. I moved my hand up his calf and he said a little higher. Obvious as hell, he was. I felt above his knee and he grabbed my hand and pressed it into his crotch. He said, "Here's where it aches, Sarge." He was hard as a rock. I told him I could see why it would ache, carrying that kind of swelling. He said he knew a way to make the swelling go down and he pressed his boot into my crotch. Then he turned into a little slut. He begged me to let him suck me and he would jack off while he did it and that would get rid of the swelling. It was a quickie. He was good, though."

"Do you wanta sleep with him?" I asked.

"I thought we both would....invite him to sleep in our bed."

"No. You got to his bed."

"Are upset with me?" he asked.

"Godd, no," I said, laughing. "I'm afraid we might spook him if we gang up on him like that. He obviously wants sex with you. Can't say that I blame him."

"I can ask him about you joining us."

"No. He would say yes only because he thinks that's what you want. I just want you to have your fun together, in comfort. Don't close his door, though; it'll be fun to listen. And I might wanta peek in."

One day we came home to the sound of a vicious tirade of yelling and cursing. I could hear it when we were getting out of the car. Just as we were coming up on the porch one of the second squad came rushing out of the house, rushed to his car and left. Reiner was close behind.

"Where's he going? What happened?" I asked.

"Home. I kicked him out of the program."

"What? Why?"

"He violated your trust."

"How? Did he steal something?"

"He never had a chance. But I discovered him in your bedroom going through drawers."

I helped Jason to the porch swing and got him a cold beer.

"Go get him, bring him back," Jason said.


"Go get him," he said again.

"Sir, you're not going to countermand my order," Reiner said.

"We raised a houseful of boys like that. He's going to face us."

"Yes, sir. What if he won't come back with me?"

"That's what you were given those corporal stripes for."

They were back within an hour. Reiner was still angry. He got out of the car and slammed the door. The other boy was pretty shy about getting out.

"Get on up there," Reiner barked at him.

He came only to the steps.

"You wanted to see me, Sir."

"You're not allowed to drop out," Jason said.

"I didn't drop out. Corporal Reiner kicked me out."

"And with good reason. He did exactly what he should've done. If you can't be trusted in my house, how can any of these boys trust you to have their backs?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not asking for an apology. I called your ass back here to give you another chance. I'm doing this against Corporal Reiner's better judgment but I outrank him. If you pull another stunt like that I will turn him loose on you and he will have my permission to break you in half. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

It was nearing the end of the second squad's training and Jason and I had been talking about a graduation ceremony for both squads. We were not going to take on any more boys due to Jason's health. It wouldn't be anything elaborate; a cookout, followed by a sleepover because we intended to have beer. We thought they deserved that much recognition as adults. We brought Reiner in on it because we intended to pass out rank, i.e., present them with caps like Reiner's, with PFC stripes on them. We asked Reiner's opinion on anyone he thought should be awarded a higher rank.

"Honest to God, I never thought I would be saying this but I would have to say Seb."

I was already shaking my head.

"You don't agree?" he asked.

"I agree he's come a long way, but I don't think he deserves to hold the same rank as you."

"I bow to your better judgment, Sir, but I think he deserves some special recognition."

"Got it covered," I said. We had already purchased the caps and had the rank sewn on as well as their names on the back. We'd also ordered paracord bracelets in deep green and black.

We extended the verbal invitation at the end of training. There would be Reiner, Seb, Marcus, Duncan and three from the second squad, Riley, Andrew and the would-be trouble maker, Owen. The fourth from the second squad couldn't make it. I felt a little deceptive in the way I brought up the beer.

"Is there a man among you who does not drink?"

"Only when I can't get it," one boy said.

"Very well, with your approval, we intend to have beer at the cookout. Which is the reason it's going to be an overnight. None of you will be allowed to drive home till next day."

"I think you've got unanimous consent on that," Marcus said.

"For obvious reasons, we need to ask you to keep quiet about the beer. I hate asking you to be deceptive but on the other hand we think you deserve the adult respect owed a soldier or a Marine."

"Nobody'll say anything," Reiner assured us.

They must've decided among themselves to come in their training gear. Jason had lit the charcoal and laid the foil-wrapped potatoes on the grill and as they arrived he handed out cold beers. It was great to see him in such good spirits. When they were all there he told Reiner to call them into formation. He gave them a good ego building speech then turned it over to me. I added my comments then got the box of caps. Jason and I went down the line, him holding the box while I removed each boy's cap and dropped it at his feet and replaced it with a new cap, addressing him by his rank as I put it on him. Then I slipped the paracord bracelet on his right wrist. Seb was visibly surprised when I addressed him as corporal. Reiner could hardly hold his smile in check. He was equally surprised when I addressed him as sergeant. They were all surprised to have their names on the back of their caps and especially pleased with the bracelets.

Jason made short work of the ceremony; he was never one to make a fuss. I checked the grill then went in and got the steaks and turned it over to the boys. It was fun and gratifying for Jason and me to sit back and watch the interaction and camaraderie and see how far they'd come in a few short weeks. These were no longer high school boys; they were young men. Someone suggested they should be showing off their jockstraps and off came the shorts. Someone asked if they all had their cockstraps on and they proceeded to pull their jocks down to show the straps.

"I got a question for you, Sarge," Marcus said, addressing me.

"Ask away," I said.

"What's the military's stance on gayness in the ranks these days?"

"Gayness?" I asked, laughing.

"Yeah, like not being gay but doing gay stuff....you know, like helping a buddy out in a pinch."

"Well, years ago being gay or engaging in any sort of gay activity was strictly forbidden. If you were discovered, you could be court martialed and jailed, or dishonorably discharged. I don't know exactly what the official policy is now but they've come a long way."

"What was it like when you guys were in?" Duncan asked.

"Well, that was Vietnam and we were concentrating on the war and staying alive, not a guy's sexual orientation. You took your sex whenever you could. I knew a guy who was a Navy SEAL and a highly decorated sniper who fucked more guys than women and it didn't turn him gay. The rules are probably even more relaxed now, out of political correctness."

"So if I made a move on Reiner and he was agreeable we could fuck around as long as we didn't flaunt it," Marcus said.

"Very likely as long as you didn't crawl in his bunk and do it right there in the barracks."

"Take it to the showers, huh?" somebody joked.

"Something like that," I said.

"So, how about it, Reiner, you wanta go upstairs and fuck around?" Marcus asked.

"In your dreams," Reiner replied, giving him the finger.

We ate and drank and engaged in manly conversation that belied the boys' ages. The beer had its effect; it lowered inhibitions and made them sleepy. Someone asked where they were supposed to sleep.

"We've got four bunkbeds, two sleeping bags and a couch, you guys figure it out among yourselves," Jason said. "I may sleep in in the morning, so if I don't see you, just want you to know, it's been a pleasure and I'm damned proud of you."

It was neat that the boys all snapped to attention and saluted him as he stood go inside. He reminded me to collect their keys. I hung out with them for a little while longer then collected their car keys and went up to bed.

"Thought you'd stay up and nail a couple of 'em before you came up," he said.

"No, I'm leaving that to them, amongst themselves."

"You think it's going to happen?"

"I wouldn't bet either way. The conversation was going that way but I'm not sure any of them are ready."

I didn't know where everyone slept till next morning when I went around checking to be sure they were all present and accounted for. Marcus and Reiner were in one bedroom and one of their jockstraps was hanging on the bedpost. Andrew and Seb were in the other and Duncan was in a sleeping bag on the floor. Andrew and Seb were both sleeping naked. Riley and Owen were downstairs, Riley in a sleeping bag and Owen on the couch. I couldn't judge whether there had been any sex going on but I thought so from what Riley and Owen said when they woke up. I didn't intend to wake them but they sensed my presence.

"You guys feel like outcasts down here by yourselves?" I joked.

"It was the safest place to be," Owen said.

"Yeah, we didn't wanta get involved in what was gonna happen upstairs," Riley added.

"You guys want breakfast?"

"Not this early, all I want is sleep," Riley said.

"Me too."

I let them sleep and went in the kitchen to make preparations for breakfast. As I put the coffee on I heard the shower running. Several minutes later Reiner came down in his jockstrap. I asked him if he wanted coffee.

"It might help," he drawled as he yawned and stretched. I held his coffee while I took in the muscle display, then we sat down at the table.

"Why doesn't it surprise me that you're the first one up?" I said.

"Last night was nice," he said. "You guys didn't have to do all of that. We were happy that you trained us."

"You all deserved it," I said.

"Can I ask you something?"


"Last night we were talking about the military's stance on gayness, as Marcus put it, and you said you knew a guy in Vietnam who was a Navy SEAL and a highly decorated sniper who fucked more guys than women and it didn't turn him gay. Was that guy Jason?"

"Yes. How did you figure it out?"

"I noticed you guys sleep together. You said it didn't turn him gay."

"It might have tilted him a little towards bi," I said.

"Were you lovers in Vietnam?"

"More like partners," I replied.

"I fucked Marcus last night. Twice," he said.

"I see."

"He came on to me pretty strong."

"Was that the first time with another guy?"


"How do you feel about it in the light of day?" I asked.

"I don't feel any less a man for it, and I don't see him as any less a man."

"Good. You're going to make a fine Marine, Reiner. You're a born leader."

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-Six

I had never dealt with cancer before and Jason's health deteriorated faster than I expected. I still wanted him to seek treatment but after going with him to the doctor I was convinced that it would be pure misery and in the end, hopeless. Jason was dying.

We managed the pain but he was losing weight. I tried to keep him well fed but his appetite worked against me. He said eating was only feeding the cancer anyway. I made another emotional plea for him to go for treatments but he was adamant and I came to realize that I was begging for myself. I was so ashamed. I reverted back to just being there for him, as he'd asked. I suggested that he should be in the hospital or at least in a cancer care center but he refused.

"They can't do anything more than you're doing. Unless it's getting to be too much," he said.

"No. Absolutely not," I declared.

"Then I prefer to die at home."

That was my preference, too. I considered it an honor more than duty, to take care of him.

I stood my ground against his refusal to let me call the boys. Not directly, but I called Kyle and told him he needed to come home but not to mention that I'd called. Kyle was shaken. He saw Jason's condition and insisted that he be in the hospital. Together, Jason and I explained the situation, and Jason told him he wanted to die at home. Hearing those words was more than Kyle could take. He rushed out of the room sobbing. He took a hiatus to stay and help take care of Jason

Very soon Jason took to our bed. He said he should take to one of the boys' beds-that I shouldn't have to share a bed with a dying man-but it was my turn to refuse. On good days I managed to get him downstairs to sit out on the porch. It was his favorite place to be.

On really good days when he felt like sex, I gave it to him. Once I sucked his cock, kneeling at the porch swing. Another time he fucked me in the porch swing. I rode him. And another time he bent me over the porch railing and fucked me. That was one of his really good days, but it left him so weak and exhausted I had to help him back to the porch swing.

"We probably shouldn't do that again," I said jokingly.

"What, you're afraid it might kill me?" he joked.

It was the last time we had sex.

I called Scott Hendricks and he brought Heath along and they helped move our bed down to the living room. But that left the bathroom upstairs.

"Hell, we can put in another bathroom," Scott said. "I can round up a couple of guys; we can have you an extra bathroom in a couple of days."

Jason kept putting it off but we had to tell the boys. Kyle was going crazy holding it in, especially from his brother. Finally, he bit the bullet and talked to Jason.

"You know we've all respected you greatly but I'm afraid this is one time I'm going to have to defy you. I'm getting in touch with Devon and then the rest of the guys. They have a right to know."

"You're right," Jason said. "I've been putting it off because I didn't know how to tell them."

I was surprised how he took over. He contacted the Red Cross to arrange for the call to Germany. When the call came he went to the kitchen to take it. It was no doubt the hardest thing he ever had to do; telling his brother that his father was dying. They had their moment then we rolled Jason's bed to the kitchen so he could talk to Devon and we went outside.

"Geezuss! Why is this happening, Dad!" Kyle lamented. "You guys had such a great life together."

"Nothing can take that away from us. I will always have that, and so will he. He'll take it with him," I said.

"Do you think there's a distinction in sexuality in heaven? Are there gays and straights, and they're sent to different rooms or something?"

"I don't know if there is sexuality in heaven, or if there is any need for it. But I know we'll be together again one of these days and it won't be our sexuality that brings us together but the love we shared."

"How long has he got?"

"The doctors said six months. But the way he's deteriorating, it won't be that long."

"You seem to be holding up well."

I shook my head. "It's tearing my guts out. But I can't let him see that. You didn't say; is Devon getting leave?"

"Yes, the Red Cross is helping with it. We need to notify the others."


"I'll do it," he said.

Nolan and Jordan were the first to come home, in time to help install the new bathroom. And they took their turns sitting with him.

"I hate this, having everybody fussing over me," Jason complained.

"Get over it," Nolan said.

"Yeah, like we hated you fussing over us," Jordan added.

Devon was granted compassionate leave and was home in three days. Kyle met him at the airport and tried to prepare him on the drive home but nothing could have prepared him for his father's condition. He tried to put up a good, tough, Marine front but quickly broke down over Jason's bed.

Jason comforted him as he knelt beside the bed. "All good things have to come to an end, and I've had one hell of a good life," he told him, patting him on the shoulder.

"You have to fight this; I can't let you go, Dad," he sobbed.

"Well, Son, I'm afraid that's way above your pay grade, and mine." He reached down and slid his hand under Devon's chin and lifted his head up so they were eye to eye. "You're a Marine, Son; you can weather this. You'll have Jake by your side. He's got to be your focus, like Brad's been mine. Stand together and don't let anything bring you down. Not even this." He smacked him gently on the cheek. "Everybody's got to die someplace, sometime. The hell of it is, you don't get to choose the time or the place. I hate this. I wish it could be something that'd at least make front page but I've had my glory days. More'n I deserved." He was quiet then, and dropped his arm. Devon remained on his knees beside the bed till Jason dozed off.

When he came out to the kitchen he asked if we'd called Jake.

"Yes," Kyle replied. "The Red Cross is working on it but since he's not officially family they don't know if he can get compassionate leave. But he will be here as quickly as possible; the lady assured me of that."

It was gut wrenching to watch the boys' reactions when they arrived and saw Jason's condition. They were upset that he refused treatments but I withheld judgment on the matter and insisted they do the same. He was his own man; it was no time for me to step in and try to take that from him. Devon was firm on it, too, honoring his father's wishes.

"He said he could poison himself with all the drugs and die in the end, or he could let his life run its course," Devon told his siblings. "It's not that he's giving up, he simply wants to die on his own terms and we have to respect that."

They agreed among themselves that they should space their visits because having too many of them there at the same time was too much for Jason. He was adamant about directing attention from himself and when the boys visited he refused to discuss his health with them. The boys managed to laugh that it pissed him off that his life couldn't end more heroically.

I was amazed at the food being brought in. Steve Hendricks came with his wife who brought a potato casserole and two pies, along with a small register that she said I could use to keep track of all the dishes being delivered for writing thank you notes later. I hadn't thought of that. There were so many; from my boss and his wife, from the wives of the guys I worked with, and also from Jason's fellow workers. We got food from people we'd never heard of. Even Jenna Hendricks had a large ham delivered, and the boys we'd trained came with a huge bag of fried chicken, biscuits and mashed potatoes and gravy. They were so out of place and at a loss for words but one of them asked if they might see Jason.

"Of course, he wouldn't want you to leave without saying hello," Kyle told them and he showed them into the living room where Jason was propped up to a sitting position. Jason's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"How're you guys doing?" he asked, putting out his hand to Reiner who was standing the closest.

"We're doing good, Sir," Reiner said as he Reiner snapped to attention and saluted before he took his hand.

The next boy followed his lead.

"You boys don't have to salute and call me sir anymore. You can call me Jason now."

"No, Sir, we can't do that," Marcus said.

Seb laughed and said, "Reiner would kick our asses if we called you by your first name."

Jason smiled and said, "I guess we trained you too well."

My brother and his family came to lend a hand. Hunter and Melissa were especially devastated.

I talked to Jason in private about his brother. "I have no idea how to get hold of your brother," I said.

"Don't worry about it," he said, and that was the end of it. "But there is something else I wanta talk about. If it's not too much trouble I would like my ashes taken back to Vietnam."

I stared at him, blankly, stunned. "You never mentioned cremation before," I said.

"Never got around to it."

"Of course I'll do it, but you know the boys will want an open casket."

"I thought of that. Have an open casket at the wake. For the funeral the casket would be closed anyway, but it'll just have part of my ashes in it. The boys will have their gravesite. Then you take a trip to Vietnam and hire a helicopter to take you up and toss my ashes to the four winds over the jungle. Then maybe visit some old haunts if they're still there. I don't want to put any undue burden on you, Brad; it's just a whim."

"No, it's not a whim; you've thought this out. Of course I'll do it."

I decided to have hospice come in once a week in an advisory capacity. The fifth week, the nurse said we should call all the family. He was not going to last out the six months. They had all been notified but Nolan or Jordan called them again and told them to up their plans. In two days all of the boys were there except Jake and Colby. They took over Jason's care, they bathed him, they fixed the meals; I saw to nothing, except Jason was seldom out of my sight. I spent the nights with him in our bed and much of the days beside it. I didn't even know where everyone was sleeping.

"I think you'd better call our priest," Jason told me.

"Colby's on his way," I said.

"It's not everybody lucky enough to have his own priest," he said. Then he said, "We never got to Tuscany."

"No we didn't."

"You go," he said, reaching for my hand. I took his hand. "You go rent a villa and find yourself a hot, young Italian stallion and fuck each other's brains out."

I only smiled while I cried inside. Why, oh why hadn't we gone to Tuscany instead of Key West!

When Colby arrived and he saw Jason's condition he told us all to leave the room. There were some confused looks till he explained that he wanted to give Jason a chance for a last confession. I wondered if he'd ever made a first confession, and one of the boys threw in some dry humor with, "That's gonna take a while."

After a half hour or so Colby opened the door and waved everyone back in the room and he administered Last Rites. I never did know if Jason made a last confession.

I had the doctor come out to the house for what would be his last visit. Everyone was gathered in the living room where the bed was.

"Are these all your boys?" the doctor asked.

"You could say that," Jason replied.

The doctor did a cursory examination and asked him if he was in pain. He said no.

"Well, then, it looks like you're being well cared for so I will leave you in their capable hands."

The boys staggered their visiting times after that. I did hire a male nurse through hospice but the boys said they would take care of him so the nurse made only one visit, to instruct the boys on Jason's care. Kyle and Devon and I were more or less relegated to being bystanders. The other boys bathed him, sat with him, read to him and generally kept him in good spirits, and in the final days, they sat with him in the dark, stark quiet of his dying, and they cried and held each other when he died. He died in my arms with our own Father Colby holding his hand. Devon, with a surge of strength that amazed me, stood at the head of his bed at stiff attention. He had changed into his uniform at the last so Jason could have his last look at him as a Marine. When he was gone they comforted Devon and Kyle and me, when I thought it was I who needed to comfort them.

Not being officially family, Jake was unable to get compassionate leave and he didn't arrive from Korea till the very last, but he was on hand to comfort Devon. I didn't know who picked him up at the airport but it wasn't Devon.

Through it all, I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable. I thought I had. But when the time came; I hadn't. When the moment was upon us and he breathed his last breath it felt like my heart was being ripped out. I'd never felt such pain in my life. The boys tried to be strong in comforting me but I knew they had their own moments out of my sight.

I was devastated to the point of being numb, and for the first time I found myself in a situation over which I had no control. After a time, Kyle and Devon came to me and said, "We need to call someone,"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you want one of us to call?" Kyle asked.

"No, I will." I was surprised how calm I was when I dialed the phone. I told the operator I needed to be connected to the medical examiner or the coroner to report a death. She connected me and I very calmly gave the address and how to get there. It seemed ridiculous to have to have an official declare him dead when he'd died in my arms. The man asked if we had called the funeral home, and said he would if we wanted him to. Devon told him, he would call. It was a somber sight to see the hearse pull away and when it was down the lane, everyone dispersed to the four corners of the property. By that time I felt so bad for the boys that I was able to cope. And, it had not fully soaked in that the man I loved more than anyone in the world was gone. Devon stood out from the porch till the hearse was out of sight, then he broke and cried so hard he choked. God bless Jake; he held him while he cried. Seeing them, I thought there was nothing more humbling, and manly, than two strong Marines weeping.

The four of us, including Jake. went to the funeral home to make the arrangements; Devon asked if Jake could come along. I took Jason's discharge papers to arrange a military funeral, and finding that Devon and Jake were both still active duty Marines, Mr. Pelman, the director, said he would arrange for a Marine honor guard from the nearby Marine Reserve unit.

"Could you possibly find a Navy SEAL?" Devon asked. "He was a SEAL before he was a Marine."

"I'm sure I can find a volunteer; I'll put out the word," he said. Then he asked Jake and Devon, "Will either one or both of you be part of the honor guard?"

They both looked at me.

"Why don't you let your comrades do the honors. The other boys will need you to stand with them."

"Might I suggest that you stand with the honor guard to fire the salute," Mr. Pelman told them.

"Yes," he said. "And Jake and I will be taking our turn at his casket."

He asked about pall bearers. I thought the boys might want to serve as pall bearers, minus Kyle, Devon and Jake, but at the same time we all thought it would be appropriate for six Marines to carry him to his grave. We agreed on the latter; Jason deserved that honor.

"Is there any jewelry that should be removed before interment?"

I thought about it for a moment then looked at Devon. "Do you want his ring or watch?"

"Not the ring," he said. "That should go with him."

"The watch, then," I said. "But Devon, he's going to be cremated after the wake. I don't think he would want that ring destroyed. Why don't we hold it back and you can decide whether you want to bury it with his ashes or keep it."

"Cremated?" Devon asked, surprised.

"Yes. He requested that part of his ashes be buried inside the casket so there would be a gravesite to visit. He asked me to take the rest of his ashes back to Vietnam and scatter them from a helicopter over the jungle. But if that's not what you want, Devon...."

"No, no, I would never go against his wishes. I just didn't know, that's all."

"I think that's awesome," Jake said.

"You're right, we should keep the ring."

Mr. Pelman stepped in to soften the blow. "Perhaps this is a good time to go back to the display room," he said.

I had never arranged a funeral before and I had no idea there were so many choices to be made; more so given Jason's requests. I didn't pick out the casket; Devon did, and I gave my nod of approval when he asked for it. Jake and Kyle stood aside and offered their approval after the decisions were made. Mr. Pelman showed us the burial urns. There was absolutely no question about the walnut urn with the Marine emblem on the front to be placed in the casket. We also had ordered a brass plate engraved with United States Marines and Navy SEAL, Sniper/Vietnam to put on the top.

"Now, for the ashes you'll be taking to Vietnam," Mr. Pelman said as he took us to another display case. He took out a heavy cardboard cylindrical tube about five by three in a camouflage pattern. "It's lightweight, perfect for travel."

"This is perfect. I had no idea they made things like this," I said.

"There's one more thing I'd like to show you," he said as he opened a drawer in the display case. He took out a one inch bullet on a heavy silver chain. "This will hold a small amount of the ashes which can be worn as jewelry. Some people think it's rather macabre, others think it's a wonderful idea."

"Count me in the latter," I said. "Yes, I will take one." I looked at Devon. He was tearing up, nodding.

"Yes, I can have him with me all the time," he said.

Mr. Pelman looked around at Kyle and Jake. "Boys?" I asked.

"No, those should be reserved for you two," Kyle said.

"I agree," Jake said.

"Will you furnish clothing?" Mr. Pelman asked.

I hadn't thought about it till that moment. I wondered aloud about his uniform and whether it would still fit him. He had never outgrown it but I was afraid it might be too big now.

"Bring it in if you like and we'll see how it fits. If there is no objection, we can tailor it to fit."

There could be nothing on the casket except the flag so we ordered a tall stand-up military floral arrangement featuring a U.S. Marine Corp banner and a large globe-and-anchor. The director was surprised when he asked about the clergy and we told him we had our own priest in the family.

The local paper was the only one I knew to run an obituary. I had no idea where Jason's brother was and we had not kept in contact with other military. Perhaps he might get the paper.

We returned in the afternoon with Jason's uniforms; both his dress blues and his Class B. We waited till he was dressed in the dress blues and then were shown in.

"He looks uncomfortable," Devon said, shaking his head.

I agreed, and we asked the director to try the class B uniform.

He looked much better in that, with open collar and white T-shirt showing. The boys agreed. I was surprised how thick and muscular his neck still was. I asked that his medals be removed from his dress blues and placed on the tan shirt. Mr. Pelman asked if they should remain for cremation.

I turned to Devon. "You might want to keep his medals," I said.

"No, he earned them, they should go with him," he said.

"Knowing what he did to earn them, I don't think he would want them destroyed," I said in a kindly tone.

Devon looked at Jake.

"It's your decision but I think it'd be kind of a sacrilege," Jake said. "And I think he would want you to have them."

Mr. Pelman came up with the perfect solution. "I could order all new medals go to with him and you could remove the originals to keep."

"I think that's a great idea," I said.

"Yes," Devon said, nodding. "Thanks for suggesting it."

I was in a terrible state at the thought of leaving him alone at the funeral home. I almost asked if I could stay the night but he would think that melodramatic. I was comforted by the fact that the Marines would never leave him; they said they would take turns standing watch at his casket the entire night.

I went home still in a state of numb shock. I still couldn't get my head wrapped around it and I was numbly oblivious to everything around me. I wasn't even sure who all was there, let alone where they were sleeping or who was preparing meals. I did know that Braden and Aaron, and Will and Luke were in a motel but they came home for meals. Jacob and his family were also at the motel, as was his brother Petey and his family. I was vaguely aware that they were consciously keeping me out of the loop. I excused myself after supper and went up to shower and go to bed. I think I cried as many tears as the water coming out of the shower. I dried off and went down the hall to our room. The door was partially closed and I paused before pushing it open. For those few seconds I fully expected to find Jason in bed waiting to fuck my brains out. What terrible tricks the mind can play; the bed was empty. Only after I got in it did I realize that it had been moved back up to our room.

Sleep was long in coming and when it did, it was fitful, with intermittent tears. At one point I got up and dug out Jason's old jockstrap and put it round my neck. Another time I was aware of someone coming in the room.

"Brad," he said softly. It was Devon and Jake and Kyle. Devon and Jake were shirtless and I was struck by their overpowering masculinity.

"Are you all right, Dad?" Kyle asked.

"Yes. No. Hell, no," I replied.

"Is there anything we can do?" Jake asked.

"Yes. Go make love like you've never made love before, and never miss an opportunity."

They laughed and Devon leaned down to kiss me on the forehead. Jake tugged on the jockstrap as he leaned down and kissed me. I wasn't the least embarrassed.

"We love you, Brad," he said.

Kyle lingered back. "I love you Dad, and I'm so sorry."

Next morning my stomach was sore from crying; I didn't realize I'd cried so much. The day was somber but it was good to have everyone home.

We all arrived early for the wake. Two Marines still stood guard at each end of his casket. Jake and Devon went up to thank them and then checked out the placement of Jason's medals and to make sure his watch was running. The floral stand was magnificent.

Kyle, Devon and I took up positions at the casket with Jake standing near Devon.

Coworkers came, from my job and Jason's. A lot of the boys' schoolmates showed up. My brother and his family came. Scott and Heath Hendricks came and I was surprised to see Jenna Hendricks walk in with them. She was properly cordial but we didn't exchange any words. The boys, looking lost, mingled, often leaning into each other, sobbing. Jacob was kept busy keeping his kids corralled till they grew restless and their mother took them back to the motel. The whole evening I kept an eye out for Allen, his brother. He never came. Judge Thompson came. It seemed endless but on the other hand, it made the time pass. It was interesting that several women came, introducing themselves as friends, and one introduced herself as Jason's favorite waitress.

"Yes. Lisa," I said, taking her hand.

"Oh, he spoke of me."

"Often, and very highly," I said.

When everyone was gone we lingered to tell Jason goodnight, then the boys all withdrew. Devon and I returned to the casket to bid him goodnight. Kyle and Jake stood a couple of feet back. After a moment I started to step back as well, to leave Devon alone with him but he grabbed my hand.

"Stay," he said. "He was as much to you as he was to me. You knew him before I did."

I appreciated his words. It was suddenly awkward. A thousand thoughts bounced around in my head but I could think of nothing to say. This was the last time I would see him. I knew that in the morning the casket would be closed, containing only the urn with his ashes. I held his cold hand and kissed him goodnight on his forehead then left him and went home to an empty bed.

My life was in a quandary, partly because I'd gone through this before. Not in real life, but most certainly in my head, and it was still real to me in that regard. Still, this funeral was an event that I could not have prepared myself for.

I was numb getting ready for the funeral. The house was quietly somber. Someone asked if there was going to be anyone speaking besides Father Colby, or any special readings. I thought of one and went to the Bible to get it.

"He's always kept a bookmark at this passage," I said. I asked Devon if he wanted to read it.

He thought about it then asked if I would mind if Jake read it.

"Not at all."

He asked Jake; he said he would be honored.

"The car is here," someone said.

I looked out to see the sleek, black limo parked out front, the driver standing with the door open.

"I didn't know the funeral home was sending a car," I said.

Devon, Kyle, Jake and I rode in the limo; the other cars followed. Two Marines still stood guard at his casket which was now closed and draped with the flag. Standing at his casket, I wished I could feel more, but I was numb with grief, partly knowing that he had been reduced from the magnificent man he was to a box of ashes. Before the doors were opened the rest of the Marine honor guard came in, looking exceptionally sharp, as they tend to do. We took our seats on the large couch and comfortable chairs facing the casket. Will and Luke, and Jesse and Levi sat behind us. Several people went up to the casket to pay their respects then came over to us. I was surprised to see the boys we'd been training walk in. They were all wearing the caps and bracelets we'd given them. It was such a poignant moment to see these teenagers paying such profound respect.

"He was a tough one," Marcus said.

"No tougher than he had to be," I said.

"Yeah, we're all the better for it," said Kurt.

"I'll never forget him," Duncan said.

Seb was silent; he just took my hand and nodded then stepped away.

Jordan and Nolan overheard and asked about the boys.

"Jason was training them for Marine basic training," I said. They went over to talk to the boys.

When the time came for the service to start it gave me a jolt to see our own Father Colby walk up to the lectern. Yes, we had our own priest and I deeply respected that he had chosen that profession but it was difficult not to see him as Colby, the troubled boy who had come to us as a teenager.

"How I came to be here is a miracle in itself," he began. "I won't tell the story here but every one of these men sitting here has a story to tell of how Jason and Brad set us on the straight path. And Jason....he was brutal in keeping us on it. As for me....but for this man, and Brad"--he waved toward me-"I would've likely been in prison."

I heard little of what else he said beyond that; I floated in and out. I kept trying to picture Jason in the dark, closed casket and I wondered if they had removed his watch. Of course they had, but I pushed the cremation from my mind. I kept thinking, I've done this before. Colby was finished almost before he began, it seemed. He invited anyone else who wanted to, to speak.

I didn't expect anyone would and the young man who did, I did not recognize. He came to the podium wearing Army green, bearing the rank of sergeant, with an impressive display of medals; Airborne wings and the Combat Infantryman Badge, and a Ranger tab on his sleeve. He was tall and obviously very well built. His big, strong hands gripped the edge of the lectern.

"I met him at a bar," he began in a strong, authoritative voice. "I was home on leave, embarrassed and ashamed and afraid to see my family. I was home but I hadn't gone home. I didn't know how I could face them, what I would say and I was hoping the booze would help me think up a believable story that would make me sound like the hero I wasn't. I'd joined the Army confident and determined to be the best damned soldier ever to sign on the dotted line. I got into Ranger school and found out I wasn't as tough as I thought. No matter how hard I tried I came up short. I finally washed out. As the SEALs would say, I rang the bell. And there I was, parked on a barstool in my own hometown, trying to drown my shame and embarrassment and dreaming up some way of explaining why I didn't have a Ranger tab on my sleeve when I'd told everyone I was in Ranger school. Still, I was in uniform and enjoying the attention that gets and trying to sound humble about my accomplishments. Humble? I was a disgrace. I even thought about skipping my family altogether and going AWOL. Jason happened to be at the bar and when all the stools between us were empty he came down and bought me a drink. We started talking and I told him my sad tale of woe. Somehow I thought he would be sympathetic. He wasn't. He reached over and took the beer he'd just bought me, handed it to the bartender and told him to dump it. He said he would buy me another beer when I deserved it. He told me, Don't disgrace yourself any further. Failure can be overcome; quitting can't. Go back and do whatever it takes to get back in Ranger school. Beg if you have to. Whatever it takes. But first, you have to decide if you really want it. If you don't want it bad enough, you'll never make it. That was the best advice I ever had."

He turned to the casket, then and saluted.

I was surprised then when Nolan stood and went up to the lectern. None of the boys had said they were going to speak, except for Jake doing the reading.

"My name is Nolan. I'm one of this band of brothers you see sitting here in front. Like Father Colby, I could've just as easily landed in jail. We were troubled kids, all of us. But somehow, for some reason, we ended up with Jason and Brad. I can tell you, it's not easy growing up under two Marines. There were times when we thought it would be easier to run away and take whatever life threw at us, rather than live under Jason's iron fist. I did run away. Jason came after me. I was hiding in a ditch. He gave me a choice....I could come out of the ditch or he would come down after me. His exact words were, or I can come down and get your sorry ass."

The room rumbled softly with laughter.

"I looked up at this mountain of a man and I knew there really wasn't a choice. I was going back with him, one way or another. Riding back with him I came to the realization that for the first time in my life....here was somebody who gave a damn. He was never easy on us, but he was fair, and I owe my life to him."

He came back to his seat wiping tears.

When no one else rose to speak, the director motioned for the Marines to come forward. Two of them secured the flag to the casket then the six of them took up positions to carry him out. I choked at the realization that he was leaving me and I was helpless to stop it. The director motioned for us to follow the casket out. We stood and watched as they placed the casket in the hearse with such impressive military precision. Then the four of us got in the limo.

The Marines were already in formation at the open hearse when we arrived at the cemetery. When we were seated the Marines snapped to attention in preparation to remove the casket and carry it to the gravesite. Jake and Devon stood at attention, saluting. Colby stood at the end of the casket when it was set. He paused for a moment before opening his Bible to a bookmark and began to read.

"I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God."

"That is the oath that Jason took when he joined the Navy at age seventeen. The oath his son, Devon took. The oath Brad took, and every man in uniform here today as well as many not now in uniform. I'm certain he bore true and unwavering allegiance to that oath, probably more strongly than most. Ask any man who knew him to name the man he would most want by his side in combat, or any critical situation, and Jason Seaborne would be the first name to come out of his mouth. I didn't know him when he was a nineteen year old warrior. None of us did, except Brad. But any of us can tell you, that warrior spirit never waned. When there was a battle to be fought....a wrong to be righted....that spirit was there. Oftentimes those battles were with us. He sometimes let us win a battle but he vowed that we would never win the war. And we didn't. And that's how and why we are here today; the boys that he rounded up when we ran away; the boy he brought out of a ditch; the boys he disciplined with an iron hand, and defended against all odds. Underneath that tough warrior exterior, he was a pussycat. We all knew it but we never let on. We also knew that in a critical situation that pussycat could turn into a roaring lion to protect us. He never thought he was anyone special. We are here today to dispute that. Approach any one of these men sitting here today; they all have stories to tell."

He motioned then to Jake, who stood at the casket. He didn't introduce himself but simply read the passage from John 1:1. I say simply but the way he spoke the words, it was like they were coming from the mouth of God Himself.

"I've been asked to read Jason's favorite passage from the Bible. "In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God. And the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by Him and without Him was made nothing that was made. In him was life, and the life was in the light of men; and the light shineth in the darkness and the darkness did not comprehend it. There was a man sent from God whose name was John. This man came for a witness to give testimony to the light; that all men might believe through him. He was not the light; but was to give testimony of the light. That was the true light which enlighteneth every man who cometh into this world. He was in the world and the world was made by Him, and the world knew Him not. He came into His own and His own received Him not. But as many as received Him, to them He gave power to become the sons of God; to those that believe in His name, who are born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us; and we saw His glory, as it were the glory of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth. Thanks be to God."

He sat down and Colby stepped up again. "I will not attempt to add or detract from that favorite passage. For Jason, that about says it all." He gave the benediction then and stood aside for the Marines to take over.

While two Marines remained at the casket Devon and Jake, moved out of the tent and took their places with the honor guard and were handed rifles. With the sharp but quiet commands the volley was fired and the guard came to attention while Taps was played. I was determined to keep my military bearing during the beautiful, mournful tribute but I was falling apart inside. I couldn't believe Devon's stern military bearing as the trumpeter honored his father. He never shed a tear; his lip never quivered. I was so damned proud of him. As the last strains of taps were lost to the wind Devon and Jake handed over the rifles with great precision then stood outside the tent at attention and rendered salutes as two of the Marines silently and ceremoniously removed the flag from the casket and folded it with absolute precision. As Jake and Devon returned to their seats another Marine stepped forward and tucked several of the spent cartridges in the folds of the flag. Then much to my surprise, a Navy officer appeared from the side to take the flag and present it to Devon. I saw that he wore the Trident. We had requested it but I had no idea there would be a Navy SEAL doing the honors. He came squarely in front of Devon, and unlike other military funerals I'd attended, Devon stood to accept the flag.

"On behalf of the President of the United States, the Commandant of the United States Marine Corps, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation of your father's service to Country and Corps."

The flag was exchanged, the officer rendered a three second salute and Devon returned it with his own sharp salute. Then the officer went over to the casket where he removed the Trident from his uniform and set it on the lid and with one powerful hit, drove it into the polished wood. He stepped back and saluted then moved away and stood at attention. Devon handed me the flag and he and Jake stood and went up to the casket. They removed the Eagle Globe and Anchors from their uniforms and pounded them into the lid of the casket, then stood back and saluted. It was a very moving and well deserved show of respect.

Father Colby brought the service to a close then announced that a church was serving lunch with a special invite to the Marines and the Navy SEAL

One of the Marines came over and gave me a handful of spent cartridges.

"I thought you might want to pass these out among the boys," he said.

The limo delivered Devon and I, and Jake and Kyle to the church. On the way Mr. Pelman handed Devon a velvet pouch.

"These are your father's medals, and his ring."

"Was he buried with his medals?" Devon asked with a twinge of concern in his tone.

"Yes. I obtained replacement medals for his cremation and burial. Two sets, in fact. One set was placed on his uniform and went with him. The other set is in his casket, with his ashes.

"Thank you, that was very thoughtful."

"We will deliver his ashes to your home."

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-Seven

The church basement was crowded but it had a warm and welcoming atmosphere. The boys dispersed to the four winds as they were cornered by guests entreating them to tell the stories that Father Colby had mentioned. Jake and Devon hung with the other Marines and the SEAL. It was striking, how handsome they all looked. There was more laughter than tears but I wasn't a part of that. I didn't fully understand it. I knew it was to be a celebration of Jason's life but I didn't see how anyone could bring forth laughter on such an occasion. I knew I would laugh again but it wouldn't be any time soon.

The Navy Officer found his way over to me and offered his condolences. Devon appeared beside him.

"I had no idea there would be a Navy SEAL here to present the flag," I said.

"There was a notice of death in our newspaper and I was dispatched from Coronado to do the honors. Very likely, the funeral director sent the notice," he said.

"Jason would be very proud that you came," I said.

"The honor was mine."

"It means a lot that you left your Trident," Devon said.

He smiled a tight smile. "We like to think it's a pass into heaven. And God knows, we all need that."

"He would be the first to agree with you on that," Devon said, laughing.

"Of course, he's going to have to explain those two Eagle, Globe and Anchors to St. Peter," he joked.

"Do you have to get back or can you stay for a couple of days?" I asked. "We have plenty of room."

"Thank you very much but I have to get back," he said.

"I can't tell you how grateful we are that you came," I said.

"My honor. God be with you."

When we returned to the house the boys were packing up to leave, all except Devon and Jake and Kyle. I hated it but I understood; they had jobs to get back to. Devon and Kyle would have to leave the next day and Jake would be leaving the day after to return to his post in Korea. We said our goodbyes to the others with promises to keep in closer touch. I was sad to see them go--sad for them-but I was also looking forward to having the house to myself. Devon and Kyle said they were going back out to the cemetery. They asked Jake to come along but he declined.

"No, this is between you two," he said.

I had decided I would go early the next morning, about sunrise. It was late when they returned, but none the worse for emotions. They seemed even a bit jovial. The day had worn on me and I announced that I was going to bed. I got goodnight hugs from everyone and went upstairs. It was almost more than I could take, getting in bed alone, knowing that it would be this way for the time I had left on this earth. I choked up but I didn't cry. I couldn't. He was in a far better place and I wouldn't want him back the way he was....I was letting go. We always slept naked but without any real thought I got Jason's old jockstrap and laid it on my pillow. I felt close to him. Tired as I was, I couldn't sleep.

There was a knock on the door as it opened.

"Can I sleep in here?" Devon asked.

"Of course. I would like that."

"You're as close as I can be to him," He said as he took off his clothes. "I left Jake to Kyle," he added with a smile. "Thought I'd see if they still have anything in common."

I felt the same old admiration and attraction for him as I watched him undress and reveal his magnificent body but there wasn't any overwhelming sexual urge attached to it. He wasn't simply a beautiful man who was getting in bed with me; he was Jason's son. I lifted the covers and laid them over him when he was beside me. He moved back against me and I laid an arm and leg over him. It was wonderful to have his hard muscular Marine body against me, his firm butt pressing against my manhood. My cock came to life without me willing it but I made nothing of it. Holding the man was erotic but still not sexual as it might have been. Till he reached back for my cock and laid it up along the split of his butt.

"I want you inside me, Brad," he said hoarsely. "It doesn't have to be anything but that. I just want you inside me so I can feel closer."

We both used spit to lube his ass and my cock and when I positioned the head he pushed back on it. I moaned softly as his ass swallowed my cock to the hilt. He sighed with contentment as he snuggled himself against me and I held him tight. We slept locked together like that but in the night my cock hardened again inside him and I reached down to feel his hard cock.

"It wouldn't be sacrilegious would it?" he asked quietly.

"No. I have to think he would be smiling down on us about now."

Next morning I was at the cemetery to watch the sun rise over Jason's grave. It was a somber time but with no tears. I felt sadness, and empty, but also contentment that he was no longer suffering. I stayed till I began to feel the warmth of the sun. It was hard to leave, and I couldn't. Twice I tried to leave but there was a force pulling me back. Him wanting me to stay? Perhaps he had not yet ascended. I had heard stories of people lingering back.

"Jason, we have to let go. We have to let each other go," I murmured. Suddenly there was a wind blowing at my back, in the direction of my truck, as if he was telling me it was okay to go. Had he released me that easily? I wondered at the power of the afterlife as I walked toward my truck.

Back home Devon and Kyle were making breakfast. There was quiet contentment in the room as we ate, perhaps brought about by resignation. Kyle didn't linger after he'd eaten; he seemed even anxious to leave. We bid him goodbye with him promising that he would visit more often, and I was sure he would. The brothers' goodbye was an emotional one while Jake stood aside, choking back tears.

Moments after Kyle left another car drove up the lane. It was Mr. Pelman, the funeral director. We greeted him out on the porch.

"I've brought the ashes," he said. He handed Devon and I each a felt pouch. Devon was quite emotional as he put the chain around his neck and fingered the bullet containing his father's ashes. I kept a stern military bearing as I put mine on but it was different when he handed me the camouflage urn. I was struck that I was holding in my hand all that remained of the man I loved. Devon thanked Mr. Pelman, seeing that I couldn't.

Devon looked at his watch. "I guess I'd better go up and get dressed and pack."

"You've got two hours," I said.

"I know. I guess it's something to do, to keep busy," he said.

I put my arms around his and Jake's broad shoulders. "Alright, Jake can help you. And while you're up there, fuck each other's eyeballs out. I told you never to pass up an opportunity."

They laughed as I squeezed their butts and they went upstairs.

They came down over an hour later, Jake carrying Devon's bag.

"I'll drive him to the airport," Jake said. "Unless you want to," he added, looking at me.

"No, you guys go ahead," I said.

I followed them onto the porch where I hugged Devon goodbye. Damn, he felt so good. I wished he had another two hours.

"I love you Brad," he said, trying not to tear up.

"You know the feeling's mutual," I said. "You stay in touch, dammit."

I felt so empty, seeing him walk to the truck. Part of the emptiness was for him. His father was gone and he was going out of my life as well, in a way that we could not go back to.

"Straight to the airport. No stopping along the way," I said.

They laughed and they both flipped me off. I went back inside. I had wanted the house to myself but I was somehow consoled that Jake would be coming back. I poured a cup of coffee and went back out on the porch to wait for him. I sat on the railing, leaned back against the post. I was relieved when I saw the pickup turn in; the loneliness was closing in on me.

"Well, he's on his way," he said as he came up on the porch and handed me the keys.

"I'll get you some coffee," I said.

"No, I'll get it."

"When will you see each other again?" I asked when he came back out with two cups of coffee.

"Who knows. We say we're used to it, but we never are. It must be hard for you to see him go."

"I think no harder on me than him, or no harder on him than you" I said. "You guys have been tight for a long time."

"Much like you and Jason."

"I pray that you are never separated like we've been," I said.

"How will you deal with it?" Jake asked.

"One thing is certain, I can't curl up in a ball and let life pass me by. I won't dishonor Jason in that way."

"He would expect you to go on. How did you meet anyway?"

"Well our first meeting was far from romantic. I almost ran him down with a Jeep."

"That would get anyone's attention," Jake said, laughing.

"It wasn't love at first sight. It was quite a while before he was convinced that I was the one he wanted to spend his life with."

"I bet he knew; he was just fighting it. Do you think you'll find someone else?"

"I can't answer that. I don't intend to go searching but if someone comes along....who knows?"

"Either way, you won't have any trouble finding someone. It wouldn't take much to convince me even now if I didn't already have Devon."

"You flatter me," I said.

"No flattery intended. You're one of the hottest men I know. I'm glad things worked out so I was left here alone with you," he said.

"I'm grateful for your company. You know I love you like my own son."

"If I may be so bold....I don't want to offend your sensibilities or intrude on your grief but....well, I would like to be more than just company for you. Not to dishonor Jason but I love you, Brad, as a father figure and as a man. I hope I'm not out of line saying that."

"I can't think of anything you could do that would dishonor him," I said.

"Even if I asked you to have sex with me? This may be the only time like this we ever have together. But if it's too soon, or if you just don't want to, I understand."

"Who's to define too soon? I only know that Jason wouldn't want me....us....to pass up such an opportunity. You know what he told me shortly before he died? We were talking about not having gone to Tuscany. He told me go, and rent a villa and find myself a hot, young Italian stallion and fuck each other's brains out."

"I'm not Italian," Jake said.

"But you're a hot, young stallion, that's three out of four," I said.

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

"Unless you prefer to spend another night in one of the bunk beds."

"Can we do that?" he asked. "Can we sleep in Devon's old bunk?"

"It'd be a tight fit."

"No tighter than in your bed. Besides, I like tight fits."

"Let's lock up."

Upstairs he went into Devon and Kyle's old room where he'd been staying. I went on into my bedroom where I changed in to Jason's tattered old jockstrap. Jake was down to his briefs when I went back, straightening up the lower bunk. He stopped and dropped the corner of the blanket when he saw me.

"Geezuss!" he whispered.

"I could say the same about you," I said.

"You look so hot in that jockstrap, with all the tatters and tears."

"No hotter than you in those briefs." I moved closer and cupped the bulging pouch. "They barely contain you."

"They're not meant to, they're meant to entice," he said.

"Well, then, mission accomplished," I said as I guided him to the bed. I backed him up against the bunk beds and pressed my body against his. Muscle rippling against muscle, I kissed him and he responded in kind. The pouch of my jockstrap smashed against the pouch of his briefs. Both were filling up fast.

"I can't be Jason for you," he whispered.

"You don't have to be anybody but Jake," I told him. I clasped my hands around his hips and pushed him into the lower bunk. He lay back with his back to the wall.

"Let's see how tight we can make this fit," I said as I crawled in with him. We came together again and resumed the kiss.

"I can't thank you enough, or Jason, for allowing me to become a part of this family," he said.

I laughed softly. "We had no choice, Devon brought you home and we couldn't pry you and him apart," I joked.

"When we take retirement we're never going to be apart again," he said. "I'm so glad I went to football camp that year. It was a life changing experience."

"I know Devon came back a changed boy," I said.

"I went to that camp so full of my girlfriend, already counting the days till I could get back to her. Then I walked in the dorm and there he was, and it was like she never existed. By the time I got to where he was standing beside his bunk, looking so damned cute and studly, I knew this was the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I couldn't imagine ever letting him out of my sight. I was in love. My sole focus that entire two weeks was to make him fall for me. I almost cried when I found he felt the same about me."

"I'll tell you something else that sealed your relationship as part of the family," I said. "When you came to Jason and told him outright that you were in love with his son. That took more balls than I could imagine."

"It was surprisingly easy; I believed in what I was saying."

"Well you sure impressed the hell out of Jason," I said.

His hand was inside my jockstrap, my cock hard in his fist.

"You know how I like to be fucked, Brad. I wanta be your slut. I wanta be your Marine cum dump tonight."

I tugged at his briefs and he hefted his butt up off the bunk to let me pull them off, then he brought his legs up and hooked his feet in the rail of the top bunk

"Godd, that ass," I murmured

"It's yours," he said. "Fuck it, finger it, eat it, rape it.

"Or all of the above," I said.

I dropped to my knees beside the bunk and buried my face in his taut, round buns. He felt and smelled so good I wanted to cry. I dragged my tongue up the crack and he reached around to pull his butt apart for me. I was happily surprised that he was shaved

"Yess! Fuck, this is so beautiful. You shaved," I whispered

"Yes, for Devon," he said.

His moans and tiny whimpers were music to my ears as I licked and tongued his hole.

"Tongue me deep, Brad, you might get some of Devon's cum that he left in me."

I pulled his hole open with my thumbs and drove my tongue up inside him. The salty sweet taste made me heady and I devoured his ass hungrily. Yes, I could taste Devon

"Can you taste him? Can you taste Devon's cum?" he asked

"Yesss! Godd, yesss!"

I tongued and slurped his asshole like a mad dog. I tongued him till my tongue was tired then I licked him lovingly.

"You can fuck me; I'm ready. I don't need a lot of foreplay. We can use Devon's cum for lube," he said.

As I rose up from my knees he set his feet wider apart on the side railing and I leaned between them. I spat in my hand to lube my cock then aimed it. I felt the heat of his steamy hole and nudged the head of my cock against it to know I was on target. I felt him push out and I pressed my cock against his pucker and it squeezed around my cockhead.

"Godd, yess; your ass is so hot," I moaned

"It gets hotter the deeper you go," he said

"Show me," I said.

He brought one leg down from the railing and locked it around my waist and pulled me into his ass

"Ohhh, Brad....Godd, that feels so good.

"I can't be Devon for you," I said.

"No one can. But Devon's not here.

"Any port in a storm," I joked

"I didn't mean it that way."

I began fucking him with long, slow strokes and it was almost inspiring to see him transform from a two hundred pound stud Marine to a moaning, whimpering slut he promised to be. His muscles were like tight springs lifting and pushing against me. I kissed him everywhere I could reach and I was soon tasting his sweat

"Godd, you taste good," I said.

"I wanta taste you, too. When you're ready I want your load in my mouth."

"Fuck, you always were a stud; you haven't lost it. My Godd, your muscles are as hard and tight as ever."

"I keep them that way for Devon. Like you did for Jason. You don't know how much we pattern our lives after you and Jason."

I fucked him so tenderly that I realized I was making love to him. He wasn't Jason but his body, his tight, clenching ass, made my body alive with memories of the man I loved. I remembered a time past when another muscle stud named Toby tried to be Jason for me. I asked him if he wanted to change positions

"Not unless you do," he said.

I fucked him for a very long time, unaware that I was building up such intense pressure in him till I heard deep moans rumble up from his belly.

"Like that! There!" he gasped. "Ohh, Godd, you're fucking me so good....touching every nerve ending....fuck, yeah, deep, like that.....your cock's sliding against my prostate. Hold me, Brad. Fuck me, but hold onto me so I don't float off. You're getting me close! Ohh....Uhhnnnn....Oh, Godd....it's so good I can b-barely s-stand it! Fuck me, Brad, I'm cumming!"

I felt his asshole squeeze and flutter and his prostate go wild with violent palpitations. His body convulsed and the next minute he was throwing cum all over himself in great, thick ropes. His body jerked with each spasm. I held him around his waist and bored my cock into him in short, hard jabs

"I need air," he gasped.

I let his legs down on either side of me so he could put his feet on the floor

"You haven't lost it, stud," he told me. "Godd, you can fuck."

He scooped up a glob of cum on his finger and started to lick it off but I grabbed his wrist.

"No. That's mine," I said and I brought his finger to my mouth. "It's all mine."

He smiled. "That didn't work out quite as I planned. You were supposed to pull out and give me your load.

"I can still do that."

"Yes, I can feel you can."

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes. I want your load. I wanta compare the taste of our cum."

When I switched from edging and made it my mission to cum, I was able to reach my climax pretty fast. I fucked him till I was on the ropes then I did an extraction. I gripped my cock as I scrambled to straddle his chest then released the pressure and exploded my load directly into his mouth. He devoured my cock and I filled his mouth. When I was mostly drained I pulled back and leaned down and licked up globs of his cum off his chest. Then I kissed him. He moaned deep in his belly and pushed my cum into my mouth at the same time I fed him his. We mixed the salty sweet juices and sucked it back and forth and swallowed till it was only our tongues lashing about in the warm cavern of our mouths

"Holy shit, when was the last time I had sex like that!" I said

Jake laughed

"You are one hot Marine," I told him

"I am one hot, sweaty, smelly Marine. I need a shower.

"You smell like the stallion you are; I like it."

I stood back and pulled him up off the bunk. We embraced and kissed again, then we went to shower. Together.

"I'm glad we did that....swapped cum," he said. "It's like we're one, and I can take that with me."

When we got out of the shower we went to my room.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked


"For sex? 'Cause the shower warmed me up real good."

"Yes, for all the sex you want," I said.

Jake came back down next morning in his tan dress uniform. He was carrying his bag. It was getting close to time for him to leave; time for me to get him to the airport.

"Do you want a bite to eat before you go?" I asked.

"No, I'm good."

He took one last look around then we went out and got in the truck and I drove slowly down the lane. We were quiet and the quiet brought on melancholy.

"It's been sad but great," he said. "I'm deeply sorry Jason's gone; especially the way he died."

"He said he wished it could be something more honorable and heroic," I said.

"Still, it was great seeing everyone again. Maybe we can have another gathering like Thanksgiving. It won't be the same of course, but....." He let his voice trail off.

"It'll never be the same," I said. "But it can be different and still be good, as soon as I figure out how to do that."

"You guys had an incredible life together. I hope Devon and I can do the same."

"I hurt already at the thought of you being separated one day," I said.

"I can only imagine. I hurt every time we part. There is one saving grace, though, to this whole thing we call life."

"What's that?" I asked.

"You," he replied. "You're the touchstone; the glue that holds us all together. You always were, even when Jason was alive. If we lose you I dread that we might lose the closeness we've had."

"It's up to somebody to see that doesn't happen," I said.

"Who would be the next patriarch to follow you?" he asked.

"Kyle, I think."

"Last night was great, too," he said.

"A cut above great," I said, squeezing his thigh. "Damn, I wish I could have those thighs locked around my head one more time before you go. Do we have time to pull over?"

"No!" he said laughing.

We were pulling into the airport just as the plane was circling to land. We got out of the truck and I walked with him into the terminal. He presented his ticket then came over to me to wait.

"This is the hardest goodbye I've ever said. I'm leaving so much behind."

"Don't let it be," I said. "It's all forward from here."

"I'll try to look at it that way. If you can, I can. But there's so much I'll never get back."

"Remember what you're taking with you, though," I said with a wink

"Shit, I hope I'm not pregnant," he joked.

He stepped up and pulled me into his powerful arms. His body was like warm stone under his uniform.

"I love you, Brad," he whispered.

"You know I love you, Jake, like one of my own."

"I know." He stepped back and held me at arm's length.
"You're awesome."

I stood and watched him walk out to the plane, my eyes raking over uniformed body, glued to his round, tight butt flexing inside his uniform pants. It was the last thing I saw as he boarded the plane. I watched the plane take off and kept watching till it was suddenly swallowed up in the clouds. His disappearance seemed to bring a close to the horrible event, at least for the moment.

But the night brought a loneliness almost too much to bear. Once again I found comfort in Jason's jockstrap. I drew in the soft musky aroma before I put it on, then stretched out on the bed. Our bed. I left the lamp on low. I would always leave the lamp on low. Still numb, I let the loneliness lull me to sleep. I dreaded waking up.

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-Eight

(Return to Vietnam)

The flight to Vietnam was pleasant enough but I didn't get a warm feeling at the terminal when we landed. I presented my passport and handed over my backpack for a security search, praying that they wouldn't find the canister of Jason's ashes. They didn't. They didn't seem all that concerned about what I was carrying. They asked about my other luggage and I told him the backpack was all I had. They asked me the reason for my visit.

"Just a short visit. I was here," I said.

He waved me on without a word of welcome.

I sought out a private helicopter service at the airport to take me up. I was glad it was operated by two Vietnam veterans.

"You got somebody's ashes?"

"Yes," I said, surprised.

"You're not the first," he said. "We're not supposed to do this but how do we know what people might toss out over the jungle when we take 'em up."

"Why aren't you supposed to do it?" I asked.

"They don't like Americans being buried over here." He laughed. "Took up one guy and he stood out on the landing skids and took a piss over the jungle. He said it was a tribute to Ho Chi Minh."

I paid for an hour in the air. When we were airborne I told him I wanted to fly over Saigon one more time.

"You know it's not Saigon anymore," he said.

"It is to me. Fuck Ho Chi Minh. It'll always be Saigon for me."

"You're not the first one to say that, either. Can I ask, is this your brother's ashes?"

"No, my best buddy. No, actually, he was my life time partner."

"Not the first time for that either," he said. "There were a lot of life partnerships formed over here. Two guys met, it was easy to fall in love because they were the only ones who understood."

"Thank you for not judging," I said.

"I'm nobody to judge anybody," he said. "Hell, my business partner is married to his old combat buddy."

"We never got married; never saw the need," I said.

"That's the reason they're living over here. Their families have no idea."

I didn't recognize anything of Saigon from the air but I hadn't really seen the city from this perspective. He headed out over the jungle. Even much of that didn't look familiar. I remembered so many places where the foliage had been destroyed. The jungle had done a good job of reclamation.

"Tell me when we're heading back," I told him.

"Yes, sir. I'll leave you alone now."

The whomp-whomp-whomp of the rotor blades was like music to my ears. Not necessarily joyful, but a sad and familiar symphony of old memories. Still, it was good. I always loved that sound and it dredged up a lot of memories, good and bad. I didn't dwell on any of them.

"Turning back in five," the pilot said.

I waited till he was making the turn and then stepped out on the skids with the urn. He didn't say anything about me stepping out; he knew I knew my way around a helicopter. I uncapped the urn and let the ashes go. They formed a trail of dust that was caught up in a whirlwind and thrown to oblivion. For some reason I brought the urn up to smell it.

"Can you take me lower?"

He dropped altitude till we were barely skimming the treetops. I tossed the urn and watched it disappear in the tree tops. We were quiet the rest of the way back until he set the bird down and cut the engine.

"Nice soft landing," I said.

"Mine usually are," he bragged.

"Thanks," I said.

"Happy to be of service," he said.

I happened to glace at my watch. We'd been in the air for nearly two hours.

"Hey, I owe you some more money."

"No you don't," he said, waving me off.

It was done. Jason was home, where he wanted to be. I felt a sense of mission accomplished. I hired a cab to take me into the city. I wanted one more look, close up. The cab driver was an older man.

"You were here?" he asked in near perfect English.


"Any place you want to see? Old haunts?" he asked.

"Is the Dragonfly still here?"

"Yes and no. Still in business but not as Dragonfly."

"Is it still a brothel?" I asked.

"No, no!" he said emphatically. "No brothel, but still girls to entertain."

"They used to wear red dresses."

"No red dresses either. All white. The girls pretend to be virgins."

I asked about the orphanage, explaining that it was further into the city.

"I know it, but it closed several years ago when the nuns left the city."

He didn't offer to take me there and I wasn't sure I wanted to see it. Without asking, he told me I should see the old Independence Palace. I thought it might be required that he take tourists there.

"When the French departed, the palace became home to the South Vietnamese president Ngo Dinh Diem. It was bombed by his own air force in an attempt to kill him. They failed and the president ordered a new residence to be built on the same site, this time with a bomb shelter in the basement. The new building was called Independence Palace, but Diem never lived there. He was killed by his own troops in 1963. The new president, Nguyen Van Thieu, lived there until he left the country in 1975."

That Diem was killed by his own troops didn't resonate. I remembered Jason being sent on a special mission to take out a special, high value target. He was always convinced that it wasn't just a high ranking general he'd shot.

"It was renamed Reunification Palace after the fall of Saigon," the driver went on. "It's where General Minh waited with his staff to surrender. He was head of South Vietnam for only forty three hours. It is famous, what he said to the North Vietnam officer. He said, 'I have been waiting since early this morning to transfer power to you', and the officer said, 'There is no question of your transferring power You cannot give up what you do not have.' That is the tank that crashed through the gates when the Communist North rolled into the city."

He drove along a road with cemeteries on each side and explained that the cemetery that was well kept was where the heroes of the revolution were buried. The other side was overgrown with grass and weeds and there were two cows grazing among the headstones.

"This is where the traitors of the revolution are buried. Many people want it to be bulldozed but it has not been done yet."

I couldn't really tell if the man was pro or anti American; if he was throwing in a mix of propaganda. He drove down Dong Kohi Street for to quite a ways then turned on a side street.

"Here is Dragonfly," he said as he slowed the cab.

I had to look close to recognize it, then wasn't sure I really did. It had a new front, with massive red doors. There was even a uniformed doorman.

I paid the driver and had him let me out. I would go the rest of the way on foot. It felt good to be in familiar territory, although it still wasn't the best part of town. I was gripped by emotions when I saw the chapel up ahead. I remembered the times I'd gone there to pray to the guardian saint to protect Jason and bring him back to me. I never knew the saint's name. I seemed to recall another Marine I met there. Blackburn? Was that his name? Or was that a figment of my dream? It didn't matter now and I shrugged it off. Closer, I was saddened to see the chapel in disarray. A chicken came squawking out the door, followed by a mangy looking dog chasing it. I stepped just inside the door. The statues were gone. I hoped they had been taken to a place for safe keeping. Only a few of the benches remained and they were in splintered pieces. The altar had been destroyed. Of course; they probably didn't allow religion under the new regime.

I passed by the jewelry shop where I'd had the rings made. It was closed and I could barely see through the dirty windows. I was surprised to find the military surplus store was still in business but it looked more like a flea market. I supposed the supply of military surplus had dried up.

I walked on, feeling downhearted over what I might find up ahead. I was surprised to see the guard shack in front of my old barracks, still in use. It had been rebuilt and still protruded out into the street. A new four story building stood in place of the old barracks. I crossed the street to have a closer look. There was a guard but he looked more like police than military. He gave me a steely eyed look as I walked past, along the walled fence that surrounded the place. It was the same wall but now with iron fencing along the top. I thought it must be an important building. I slowed my pace as I walked past the tree. Its branches overhung the guard shack and the fence now. I glanced up as if I might find the condom that I left there still draped over one of the branches. I smiled and went on.

In the distance I could see the little park with the fish pond. I crossed back over to that side of the street. The tree whose branches had always shaded the pond now covered it. I couldn't see the bench. When I got closer I saw that the bench was broken in two. Surprisingly, there were still a few very large fish in the pond. What I saw beyond broke my heart. Toby's was boarded up! I choked. My Godd! Where was Toby? And his young companion; I'd forgotten his name. I wondered if they'd gone back to the States. Surely he would've looked me up if he had. I wondered if he'd died and was buried here. Or maybe his ashes......

I approached the building with a heavy heart.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" I swore under my breath as I stood and gazed at the rough boards nailed across the door. Then I walked around to the side of the building. My heart thudded in my chest as I peered in the window. The sun shining in offered enough light for me to see that everything was still intact! The bar, the tables and chairs....the only thing missing was Toby behind the bar. And Jason. I made a swipe at my eyes and went back around front. For some stupid reason I reached through the boards and tried the door.

"Toby no here."

I almost jumped out of my skin. I looked around to see where the voice had come from. It took a moment to focus on a wizened old man sitting on a bench under a tree that had sprouted out of a crack between the building and the sidewalk. He stood, stooped and unsteady on his feet and I went over to him.

"You knew Toby?" I asked with a tremor in my voice.

"Not close but I knew him on sight. He gone to Thailand, long time ago. You know him?"

"Yes, very well. Close. Very close."

"Many people come here, look for Toby," he said. "You want inside?" he asked.

"Yes! Can you......?"

He bowed his head then cocked it with a sad look at me, and it suddenly dawned on me.....he was offering clandestine tours of Toby's! I quickly dug in my pocket and handed him ten dollars.

"Very generous," he said as he pocketed the money. "Come.

I followed him back under the tree and down a dark, narrow passageway between the two buildings. I hadn't even known it was there. We came to a door and he pulled it open. He motioned for me to go in then he came in behind me and pulled the door shut. He led me down a dark hallway that opened up at the end of the bar. I was inside Toby's!!

"My Godd!" I breathed as I took in the all too familiar surroundings. Memories washed over me like a tsunami, so powerful that I had to sit down. I sat at the nearest table and looked all around. The only light was that coming through the grimy windows along the street. It looked surreal, like a scene out of an old movie.

I remembered the countless hours of numberless nights that I sat at the bar waiting for Jason to show up; and those nights when I walked back to my barracks broken hearted.

This was where I'd met Sgt. Randall, too, a massively built Ranger twice my age. He was so intimidating I almost didn't go with him to his room at the Trent. But.....was that real, or out of my dream? I no longer stopped to sort those things out.

My most vivid memory was coming here, the first stop when I got back in country after the coma, hopeful that Jason would be here. I stared at the table in front of the window....Godd, I remembered him there, laughing and talking to some other soldiers and him patting the prostitute on the ass. And him looking around to see me standing there.... My Godd, the look on his face!! I stared at the bar and with the force of imagination and tried to conjure him up; his awesome ass on the barstool, his elbows on the bar, his massive arms.....

I got up and walked to the front door. I paused then turned around and walked back and took a seat at the bar. It wasn't the same, yet it was. I was surprised that the back-bar was stlll there, even the mirror was still intact and spotless. There were polished glasses lined up on the bar. The bottles of liquor were gone of course but there were, oddly, several empty bottles lined up. I counted them; twenty-eight. I wondered if the old man had gathered the bottles from the street and brought them here to help restore the authenticity. I gazed in the mirror but saw only my own reflection. It was not an unfamiliar feeling. How many times had I sat on this same stool, waiting, hoping for him to come through the door. Too many times he didn't, and now he never would again. Then I noticed something else. I ran my hand over the stool beside me and across the bar. There was no dust! This man had created his own private tourist attraction!

There was a noise; a creaking timber perhaps, and I jerked my head around, fully expecting to see Jason coming through the door. My heart sank, and I felt foolish. I glanced to the back.

"Can I go upstairs?" I asked.

He nodded, smiling. He didn't come with me. He didn't have to, I knew the way. I went up the stairs to Toby's quarters. I couldn't see anything out of place. But I couldn't feel a presence either. I didn't feel welcome and I went back downstairs and walked over to the table by the window.

"You want drink?" I turned and stared at the man. "Johnny Walker," he said.

"You have Johnny Walker?"

"Yes, yes." Smiling, he rushed behind the bar and grabbed one of the polished glasses and a bottle from under the bar. I sat down at the table. He came over and set the glass on the table. I watched, incredulous, as he poured the drink. The guy was amazing and I greatly admired his ingenuity in finding a way to make a living. He slipped away into the dimness, leaving me with my thoughts. The whiskey was seriously diluted but I didn't care. It warmed me and helped fuel the memories that came rushing back. I didn't dwell on them-didn't try to grab hold of any of them, but simply let them tumble haphazardly through my consciousness like clips from an old movie. I sipped the weak whiskey and enjoyed the show.

I sat for a long time, reliving parts of my past here, gazing at the front door, waiting, hoping, fighting down emotions that I was allowing to hurt again. The whiskey didn't dull the pain, and he never came. So many times he didn't, and he never would again.

The movie ended but the lights didn't come on and I was left sitting in the thick darkness that filled the room like a heavy shroud. Suddenly I stood and walked over to set the empty glass on the bar. I walked slowly through the bar again, taking one long, last look around. At the end of the bar I gave him another ten for the drink. That's what I told him but it was for more than the watered down whiskey. It was for preserving this part of my past. Then I nodded toward the door and he led me out.

Back outside he took something out of his pocket....a stack of cards....and spread them out in his hands. They were small postcard photos of the place when it was Toby's.

"Yes," I said as I took three of the pictures. I gave him another ten dollars. "Is that enough?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, plenty. Very generous," he said.

I wanted to hug the old man for preserving my memories for me. I couldn't, of course, but I pulled another ten out of my pocket.

"Thank you. Thank you very much," I said.

"Yes, yes, very welcome."

I had no idea how much the American dollar might be worth to him but he was very happy.

I walked on in another direction, past the huge overhanging trees to the once grand courtyard, towards the Trent. I stopped in my tracks. The paint was peeling, revealing several colors different from when we'd been there. The second floor shutters hung by a hinge or a nail; the first floor shutters were gone. The guttering was hanging from one corner of the roof. The ornate door was gone, along with the massive, ornate hinges, replaced with two sheets of plywood on cheap hinges. The plywood doors were padlocked but the lock and hasp had been pried off and was hanging. After Toby's I shouldn't have been surprised but the sight of the grand old building struck me like a dagger to the heart. I didn't try the front doors. Instead I took the still familiar route around behind the building. Several of the windows were boarded up and I wondered why they hadn't done them all, back and front. The rear door was intact and on its hinges but the door frame was all but pried off. Again, I wondered why since the door opened easily. I looked all around then slipped inside and pulled the door closed behind me.

It was dark except for the faint light coming through the window at the end of the upstairs hallway. I started up the stairs, and feeling the wood on the first few steps give, I chose my steps carefully. It was a little lighter at the top of the stairs and I went down the hallway. I knew the way better than I expected. At the door I stood back and stared at the numbers 238 still on the door. I leaned back against the wall and stared some more. Maybe I was stalling. Finally I tried the door and it opened part way before it got stuck on the floor. I forced it open enough for me to go inside. There was more light inside from the side window and the one in front, overlooking the street if one could see past the trees. I was sickened by what I saw.

The room had been trashed. The chair was splintered where it had been thrown in a corner. The bed was destroyed, not one piece intact, the mattress and pillows thrown on the floor under the front window. Windows were broken. The plumbing had been ripped out; leaving gaping holes in the wall. Even the tub was gone. The ceiling fan was still there but the bulb was gone. The fan had probably seen its last days before this damage was done. It was hard to look at, especially the mattress and bed where there had been so much love shared. Then I saw the bedpost with its many hash marks. There were more on the headboard, I remembered from the pictures Devon and Kyle had brought back to us. I counted those on the headboard as I shed my backpack, and recorded them in my head. Then I kicked the large knob off the bedpost and put it in my backpack. Those hash marks were ours. It was the first I'd noticed that it was carved to resemble a pineapple.

I stood and surveyed the shambles. I hated the vandals who had done this. Taking the plumbing I could understand, but why the rest of the senseless destruction? I wanted to cry. This was such an integral part of my past that I shared with the man I loved. In the bathroom there was a dingy towel hanging on one of the protruding pipes. It was very old and I wondered if Jason or I had used it. I let myself believe that we had. I dug a T-shirt out of my backpack and wrapped the towel in it to take with me.

As I was shouldering my backpack I saw a small crate against the wall near the dark corner with a book laying open. I went over to check it out. It wasn't a book; it was the hotel register from downstairs. We had never signed it-no one ever signed in or out--but I recognized it. I picked it up to hold it to the light and flipped the pages. There had not been anyone sign the register for decades. But there were several messages, dated more recently, written on the blank pages. I took the book over to the front window where there was more light and stood on the mattress to read the pages.

My buddy, now my partner, and I used this room many times to make hard, passionate love when we were twenty years old. We came back and did it again for old times sake. Long live the Trent!

Corporal Christopher Murphey

Corporal James Bateman

I got fucked by my captain here more times than I can remember. Fuck, he was HOT! Still miss him.

PFC Raymond Jones

Royally fucked by Captain Brian Woods

Came here one night after too much to drink at Toby's, four of us, all straight but really sexed up from the drink. Don't remember how many times but we all fucked each other's brains out. Never did it again.

Sgt. Benjamin Hart along with

Corporal Eric Mathews

Corporal Floyd Harper

PFC Jason Adams.

I hope this place stands forever. Brought two hot Viet chicks here and fucked them both all night. Didn't think I had it in me. But I was nineteen years old. Never knew the chicks names. Did those chicks have names??

PFC Carl Miller

Sucked my first cock here when I was just eighteen. He was a Marine sniper, not much older than me. Name was Jason Sebring or Seimer or something like that. Hung like a mule and so full of cum he damn near drowned me. Thanks stud. Been sucking cock ever since.

PFC Howard Linne

My blood froze and an involuntary gasp escaped my lips. Sebring.

Seimer. The names were too close not to be him. I felt flushed, but not angry, nor jealous. I felt a sudden strange closeness to PFC Linne as I tried to imagine them together. On an impulse I took the pen from the side pocket of my backpack.

I believe the above might have been, must have been, Jason Seaborne. Navy SEAL sniper and Marine sniper. He and I made love here in this room more times than I can remember. Incredible in bed. We became life partners. I came here one more time with his ashes. May he rest in peace.

Brad Courter, Marine sniper

There, for all the world to know, I thought. I put the book back on the crate along with the pen and took one more long look around and left. As I squeezed through the door I was taken by another whim. The three on the door was hanging loose. I pulled it off and pried off the two and the eight and put them in my backpack.

I thought about revisiting Jason's old base camp, and the tree where our dog tags were buried but thought better of it. There was just no good reason to. I would let those sleeping dogs lie. I ate supper at a noodle café. They served American food as well but I opted for the local cuisine. It was as good as I remembered and I left a sizeable tip.

I had no hotel reservations but I needed a place for the night. I thought a cab driver would be my best source for advice on a place to stay. I hailed a cab, driven by a young local who I learned was a university student.

"I need a place for the night" I told him. "Something clean and cheap, like a bed and breakfast, or a hostel. Do they have bed and breakfasts here?"

"Yes, of course. Bed and breakfasts and hostels. I know of one that is clean and very reasonable; something like twenty dollars a night, American dollars. Only problem is you might have to share a room and bath. If it is a problem, that is."

"I'm not sure I....."

"It's often not so bad," the youth cut in. "I've had many reports that you can have a very good time with other guests. If you are so inclined, of course. male or female."

"Are you pimping for this place?" I asked, laughing.

"No, just providing information. I don't know the people who run it. I only know what I hear from passengers I pick up. Shall I take you there? You can always pay for a two-bed room for just yourself. That's still a fraction of what the big hotels charge."

"Alright, you've piqued my curiosity. Take me there," I said.

He talked the whole time he was driving, telling about the new city and asking about my tine there. Several blocks down the street he turned into an alley--a very clean, well-lit alley-and stopped at a heavy door that looked like it belonged on a castle.

"Listen, I'll need a ride to the airport at eleven in the morning. Could you come back and pick me up?"

"Absolutely. Thanks for asking me."

I paid him. He smiled and wished me luck. "Not that you need luck," he added with a mischievous grin.

"You should know, I'm asking you to come back in the morning so I can rip your face off if this place doesn't pan out," I joked.

He laughed and drove off. I wondered if I would see him in the morning. I went inside with a twinge of excitement. It felt good. I inquired about the rooms available and was told there were only two vacancies. Two vacancies, not two rooms.

One was a four-bed mixed, which he explained meant both male and female guests might share the room. Interesting as it sounded I ruled that out without a second thought. I wondered about staying at all, but the cab was gone and I'd told him to come back and pick me up there in the morning. The other vacancy was a two-bed room that was already reserved for a male guest but the other bed was available. The clerk told me the other guest was a rugby player from Australia. If he meant do induce me, he did. I quickly reconsidered my doubts and took the room. The youth also pointed out that I would have the top bunk. Okay, now it was a bunk, not a bed. I didn't care. It was a clean place to sleep....he was a rugby player. I wondered how small the room was. But what the hell, I was used to bunks and cramped quarters shared with other men. And this was a rugby player.

First thing I did was use the syringe in my bag to flush out, just in case. Then I decided to shower to save time in the morning. It was a walk-in shower with glass doors. It kept the water in but offered no privacy except for the steam on the glass. I didn't mind, that meant I could see the rugby player showering. I felt the anticipation building up and it felt good. And I was hopeful enough that I lubed my ass. He came in while I was still in the shower.

"Ah, I see I've got a mate," he said, tossing something on the top bunk. He sounded English, or Australian.

"You do," I said. I was about ready to get out but I decided to linger for a brief moment.

"Leave the shower running when you're finished," he said as he peeled off his polo shirt.

"Alright." I slid the door back and grabbed the towel from the hook just outside the shower. I stepped out just as he tossed his jeans on the bunk and was pulling off his socks, standing on one leg then the other. His back was to me and my eyes fixed on his awesome butt wrapped in a narrow strip of white material. The shorts were next and I almost whimpered with joy as he peeled then down.

Oh my Godd, reverberated in my head and I brought the towel up to bury my face in it to muffle the sound in case it came out. I felt his body heat as he moved past me to the shower.

"You like it hot, I see," he said as the shower door slid shut. "Bet you like your coffee and your sex hot as well," he added, laughing.

I was jolted at his mention of sex but then thought I shouldn't read anything into it. I was nervous as a teenager on his first fuck date, while hoping it would be just that. I finished drying off and dug clean briefs out of my backpack. Only after I pulled them on did I dare look towards the shower. The glass doors were steamed up too much for detail but the outline of his body was enough to spark the embers.

"You're American; where're you from?"


"You're a Buckeye."

"We're called Ohioans but it's the Buckeye State," I said. "What about yourself?"

"Cooktown, right on the Coral Sea, in Queensland. Population 2489 at last count."

"Queensland is a province, something like our states?"

"There's Queensland, Northern Territory, Western Australia, South Australia, New South Wales and Victoria. Around Cooktown is Bama Aboriginal territory where the Aborigines lived for centuries till they were discovered by Captain James Cook. If the bugger hadn't run his ship into a reef and had to stop to get it repaired we might still not know about the Aborigines. We didn't kill them off, though, like you did your American Indians."

"Well, I'm not an apologist for the US government," I said. It was all I could think to say. "That's a very small town. What keeps you there?"

"It's a small town," he said. "I like the excitement of the big cities but my roots are in Cooktown. I attend the University of Melbourne, that's in Victoria. Four million people in Melbourne, that's way enough big city for me."

"The boy at the desk said you're a rugby player, which explains the butt and the legs. Where do you play? Wait! Not the All Blacks!"

"Nooooo," he said, laughing. "It's just a club where guys get together and play for love of the game. I'm in the twenty and under league. Have to move to the under-thirty-five league my next birthday."

He saved his front and manhood till last and he faced the glass doors to do it. I watched him in silhouette giving his manhood special attention. Then he rinsed off and slid the door back. I quickly grabbed the towel and handed it to him.

"Thanks. By the way, Oscar Mitchell," he said, putting out a ham-like hand.

It was another Oh, Godd moment, seeing him from the front, his muscles dripping and glistening from the shower. Without letting my eyes drop I took in his massive manhood, dangling and swinging heavy over a pair of man-sized balls.

"Brad Courter. What're you doing in Vietnam?" I managed.

"Curiosity. I've always been fascinated by the war and the people. And you? Wait, you're here....you were here!"

"Yes. It's not exactly a pleasure visit. I brought my buddy's ashes back."

"Bummer. Big sorry to hear that."

It was Oh, Fuck as he drew the towel back and forth across his broad shoulders, the weight of his swinging cock seemingly pulling it longer.

"Actually, he was more than just my best buddy; he was my life partner. I'm ashamed that I was ashamed to say that."

"No reason to be ashamed to say it; happens to the best of us," he said.

I didn't know what he meant; was he including himself?

"Okay, I'm bottom, you're top. The bunks, I mean. They told you that, right?"

"Yes, I'm fine with it," I said.

"The bunks," he said again as he got a pair of shorts out of small travel bag.

"Yes, I'm fine with the bunks," I said. I watched him pull the shorts up over his massive thighs and then heft his manhood in one hand and stuff it all in the shorts. The bulge was enviable.

"You played sports, I'm guessing, from the looks of you. You're in incredible shape for a man old enough to be my dad."

"Baseball, football, swimming, but that was back in high school. Truth is, I don't know a whole lot about the game of rugby. I watch it for the asses and thighs."

"Shouldn't be ashamed to admit that, either. Probably most people do."

"I wasn't too keen on sharing a room with a stranger till they told me it was a rugby player. I am keen on rugby players. They all seem so tough and rugged. Out there in nothing but shorts, no protective gear."

"Rugby players are a tough lot, on and off the field."

"Before I make a total fool of myself, have we, uh, laid our cards on the table, do you think?" I asked. "I mean, there is an obvious age difference here, but....."

"I consider age a state of mind and physical wellbeing. The latter appears to measure up and I think I'm getting a pretty good idea of your state of mind."

"Then we can stop dancing around the issue and I can admit to a life-long dream of being in the locker room after a game with a team of sweaty rugby players."

"You would be surprised how welcome you'd be," he said.

"Would I? Tell me," I said.

"Our reputation is not without merit. Put in plain terms, rugby players are known, at least in the underbelly of rugby society, for their affinity for the company of other real men. In that sense they feed off each other's masculinity. Testosterone runs high after a match; you can almost smell it in the locker room. Lots of times it's like an aphrodisiac; most times, in fact, in my limited experience. Been playing since I was fifteen. All I ever wanted to do. I'd heard those stories growing up and I was scared. But, if the stories were true, I was ready to face whatever came my way. There is no such thing as youth rugby. You start at fifteen and you play with guys up to age twenty. I think the age limit is set because they figured by fifteen you're old enough to be initiated into a man's world. First game, I got carried off the field. Not on a stretcher, mind you; no, it was on the shoulders of my teammates. They carried me in the locker room and took me in the shower clothes and all. There was some grab ass and rough housing and they stripped my clothes off of me. Next thing I knew I was spread out on a bench, face down, with a brute of a man straddling the bench. He was shoving his shorts down. I thought for sure I was gonna get my ass fucked by the whole damned locker room."

"Geezuss. Did they rape you, or was it just an initiation? Did you report it?"

"No!" he said emphatically. "It was all in fun. But you don't report stuff like that, not if you want to play the game. Like I said, I'd heard the stories, I was half expecting it, and I had myself psyched up for it. These were my teammates; they were making me their mate. But it was all just to scare me. The big guy standing over me smacked me on the ass and walked away, said I was too young and tender to fuck. Anyway, it was still awesome. Hell, they took me to a pub afterwards and bought me drinks. I asked him if I was old enough to drink why wasn't I old enough to fuck. He just shoved me away, like I was a pest and told me to come back when I was a man."

"Do you have any fifteen year olds on your team?" I asked.

"Fifteen, sixteen and seventeen," he said. "Hell, I heard the fifteen year old is actually only fourteen but he's big enough and good enough, nobody cares."

I wondered if he was telling me his story to get me boned up. If he was, it worked, and he noticed.

"Looks like you're boned, mate," he said as he boldly cupped the front of my shorts in his hand. "Feels like it, too." My cock throbbed in his hand. "Yeah, cocked and loaded," he said. "You ready for some action, or has all this talk and jockeying been for nothing?"

"I sure as hell hope not," I said.

"What're you ready for?" he asked as he kept squeezing my cock.

"Anything," I said.

"You better mean that," he said.

"You're talking to a Marine."

"I heard stories about Marines."

"What kind of stories?"

"That Marines won't be caught dead sucking cock but they'll turn their asses for one."

"Whoever told you that was lying," I said.

"How about you telling me the true story."

"I'd rather show you," I said. I shoved my fingers in the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down off his hips. I went to my knees and pulled them the rest of the way down and while I took hold of his cock he stepped out of them.

"My Godd!" I said as I stroked his cock. I could just barely, by squeezing, touch my thumb and middle finger around it. He was uncut and when I drew the sheath back taut the head flared out the size of a small orange. There was already orange juice seeping out of the wide slit. "Geezuss, how big is this thing?"

"Twenty-four centimeters. That's an official, certified locker room measurement."

"Shit, that's over nine inches."

"Give or take," he said. "You're not chickening out, are you? You said anything."

In reply I licked the juice off of his cock. It tasted good and I squeezed it for more. The veins were engorged with life giving blood and I could even feel his heart beat in his cock."

"Think you can deep throat me?" he asked, in a challenging tone.

"I will but it'll have to go down a little," I said.

"Don't think that's gonna happen any time soon," he said. "Maybe a back door delivery. Most guys can take me that way when they can't deep throat."

He didn't wait for me to agree or protest. He pulled me to my feet and turned me around against the bunk beds. I knew beyond any doubt that I was going to get fucked and I cocked one foot up on the mattress. He used spit to lube his cock then moved in for the kill. When the bulbous head pried my butt apart he felt the slickness.

"Ah, yess, you were ready for this."

"A good Marine is always ready for any contingency."

"Well, you dispelled one myth and now we're gonna confirm the other one."

He shoved and my asshole burst open. It felt like a ball bat; the big end. Determined not to cry out, I bit into the mattress. He wasn't easy. He was rugby tough, plowing in all the way till his hard loins were pressed against my backside. He held there while his cock throbbed hard deep inside me."

"You took that like a man. Most guys let out a yelp when I skewer 'em."

"You're fucking a man," I said.

He reached around and took hold of my cock. "Yeah, sure am," he said. "Fuck, can't wait to feel this thing plowing my ass."

I was pleased to hear that. He started fucking me. He bordered on brutal but for him it was how men fucked and I didn't complain. He fucked me standing up for a while then bent me over the lower bunk. Later he turned me onto my back and fucked me with my feet locked against the upper bunk railing.

"I like all positons, how about you?" he said.

"Any position you want me in," I said.

"How about this positon?" he said as he bent over and took my cock in his mouth.

I bit down on my forearm to stifle my outcry.

"Not a lot of guys hung big enough I can do this to," he said.

He pulled me off the bunk and positioned me with my head and shoulders on the floor and fucked me upside down. It was amazing how each position offered whole new feelings, like he found new nerve endings with each one. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me up with my legs around his waist and he fucked me walking around the room.

"We're gonna do this all night, you know, so don't plan on getting any sleep," he said.

"I can sleep on the plane."

He fucked me for at least an hour before he slowed to a break. He still hadn't gone off, for which I was glad. We lay side by side on my bunk to rest. He didn't admit to needing a rest; he said he stopped to give me a rest.

"Yeah, right," I said.

"Hey, rugby players can run all day," he said. "You wanta keep going, roll over on your stomach, I'll fuck you till the sun comes up."

"No, I wanta give your cock a rest; maybe it'll go down a little so I can deep throat you."

He did and I scooted down in the bunk. I had to work fast before he got hard again. I sucked him gently, using long strokes, pushing his cockhead harder against my throat each time.

"We're gonna have to do this, I'm getting hard again," he said, and with that he clamped his hand around my head and shoved his cock down my throat. His pubes smashed against my nose and his balls against my chin. I held him deep, fighting down my gag reflex. When he withdrew and started fucking my throat it seemed to numb it and I didn't choke.

"You are awesome!" he said as he gently impaled me time after time.

I was amazed myself at the sight of my mouth so distended around the incredibly thick cock; that as much as having it shoving into my throat.

"Turn around on the bunk, I'll sixty-nine you," he said in a hoarse tone.

I quickly complied and he wasted no time in pulling me on top of him and gobbling up my cock. He sucked like he was hungry for it and even clamped his hands around my butt to urge me to fuck his mouth. He soon moved to my balls and then on up to my ass. I moaned around his cock as he dragged his tongue along my asscrack, pausing coming and going to flick my hole with his tongue. Each time he pulled my hole open wider till he was able to shove his tongue through my hole. I cried out with joy but it was muffled with his cock. He ate my ass like a hungry wolf till he had me so hot and excited I was seeing stars.

"I want you to fuck me some more," I croaked.

"Why don't you fuck yourself," he said. "Scoot down and climb on and ride me."

I rose up and turned around so I was facing him and moved down to hover up over his towering cock. He held it tall and firm till I lowered my asshole over the head then he let me have full control. I rode down all the way.

"Oh, Godd!" I moaned. "You're so big! Not many men have ever gone so far in."

"Then technically, I'm taking your virginity again," he said.

I gripped the rails of the upper bunk for support and rode up and down on him. Soon he was thrusting upward to meet my ass and it felt like he was going deeper.

"This is no good, I'm gonna cum too soon," I moaned.

"So that don't mean your cum mechanism is going to shut down, does it? Go ahead and cum, dude. Shoot it on my face if you can reach that far."

"Oh I can reach way over your head," I said.

"Great! I'll even give you a target, and I'll swallow all you can get in my mouth."

I didn't bother to tell him I was a heavy cummer; he would find that out on his own. I rode him till I was barely able to stand it. My thighs ached, as did my butt, from the propulsion movements. He fucked me back.

"Awww, yeah, fuck me, Oscar. Fuck it out of me."

Seconds later I was cumming. The first three shot way past his head and streaked his hair and his face. As promised he opened his mouth wide and I grabbed my cock to aim it. The next several salvos shot directly into his mouth. He groaned with delight and maybe surprise but he never closed my target. The last few were pushed out and fell on his stomach and Oscar closed his mouth.

Oscar moaned around the mouthful of cum.

"I know there's a lot; you don't have to swallow," I told him.

He shook his head and began gulping it down. I watched his throat muscles and his Adams apple like a pump. When he'd swallowed it all he let out a loud gasp and sucked in a deep breath.

"Holy fuck, mate, you cum like a Clydesdale. I've swallowed some big loads in my lifetime but nothing ever like that."

"Can I have yours now?" I asked.

"Fuck, yeah, you want it in your ass or do you want to feast on it."

"I want you to fuck me till you're close then give it to me in my mouth."

"The deed will be done," he declared. He rolled us over and lifted my legs onto his shoulders and entered me again. He fucked me hard, like he had a job to do.

I almost told him to slow down and make it last; It was feeling good even though I'd already shot my load.

"Ready for the countdown," he said as he fucked me furiously. Suddenly he shoved my legs wide apart and crawled up on my chest with his cock aimed at my face. "Open up, ready for your injection."

I couldn't believe the power behind the jettisons that shot into my mouth. He quickly covered my tongue and the taste of him exploded on my tongue. I savored it and tilted my chin up a little so it wouldn't run out of my mouth. When the spurts were receding he eased closer and put his cock in my mouth for me to drain him. I did, gladly, sucking even more of his manly nectar. I swirled it around the head of his cock till he was too tender and he withdrew.

"That's a certifiable 175 gram load," he bragged.

I quickly did the conversion in my head as I was swallowing. That was over six ounces....eight ounces was a half cup....Fuck, he was loaded! I wondered how much I'd shot off for him. I made a mental note to measure my cum; something I'd never done.

He climbed off and lay beside me.

"I said we weren't going to get any sleep but that don't mean we don't take a rest," he said. "I'm gonna take your top bunk. Whoever wakes up first wakes the other and we'll take up where we left off."

"Please, stay here," I said. "I want to go to sleep between your legs and wake up with my head locked between those massive rugby thighs."

We woke up three times during the night and picked up where we left off. One time I awoke with my head locked in the vise of his thighs and he fucked my throat unmercifully. Each time we exchanged fucks and I almost swooned at the feel of his thighs locked around my waist. And each time when we were finished I moved down in the bunk and wrapped my arms around his leg.

By morning I was sucked and fucked out. I came awake in a groggy fog, barely to climb out of the bunk. Oscar was in the shower. I sat on the edge of the bunk and waited for him to finish.

"How you feelin' this morning, mate?" he asked cheerfully.

"Like I've been totally and royally fucked."

"And that you have. But you didn't do such a shabby job yourself. Been a long time since I'm able to feel the after effects in my ass."

"Sore?" I asked, thinking if anybody should be sore, it was me, but I wasn't. Not my ass, but my throat was a little sore.

"Not so much sore, just a feeling like you said of being totally fucked. It's a good feeling. Makes you feel like a man."

As we were getting dressed he noticed my necklace.

"That's a nice necklace. Fitting for a Marine. Is it live? Does it still have gunpowder in it?"

"No, his ashes."

"Wow! That's almost holy. Like the relics of a saint."

"Well, he wasn't a saint but yeah, it's sort of holy to me," I said.

When we were dressed we went to the lobby where there was a light breakfast laid out.

"Quite a night," Oscar said.

"That's an understatement," I said.

"I really am sorry about your mate. I'd like to think I eased the pain a little, rather than took advantage of you," he said.

"You did both, for which I'm grateful, and I won't soon forget you. You are exactly what I needed at this particular time in my life."

I wrote down my address and gave it to him. "In case you want to keep in touch," I said.

"Maybe I will."

We were just finishing breakfast when the young cabbie came in. "You said eleven, right?"

I picked up my bag. "Yes."

Oscar stood and pulled me into an incredibly tight hug.

"Thanks for everything."

The cabbie invited me to sit in front with him. "To the airport?" he asked.


"You're not ripping my face off so can I assume the hostel was to your satisfaction?" he asked.

"Very satisfactory," I said.

"Did that stud you were having breakfast with have anything to do with it?"

"He had everything to do with it. He's a rugby player."

"I noticed his legs."

"You should've seen his butt."

He laughed. "You're very happy this morning. I think he took the edge off of your pain."

"He made it more tolerable," I conceded.

He looked at his watch. "Do we have time to go back so I can see his butt?"

"No but I can close my eyes and describe it to you in every detail."

"Close up and personal, huh?"

"You could say that; I had my face in it."

"I almost regret taking you there," he said.

"No, it's the best thing that's happened to me on this visit," I told him.

"No, I meant I wish I'd taken you home with me."

As he was driving into the terminal he took a card out of his pocket and gave it to me. "In case you ever come back."

"Not in the near future," I said.

I paid him, along with a big tip. "Listen, if you hurry you might be able to get back to the hostel before he leaves. Here's some extra money to pay for the room."

"Thanks. I might try that."

"If not, get yourself a rent boy," I said.

My plane's departure was announced on time and I had to rush to catch it. It was a relief to get settled in my seat.

I toyed with the fantasies in my head. I had not thought of even the vague likelihood of anyone taking Jason's place but the possibility of Oscar being in my life if he lived in the States.........

I wondered about one of the boys we'd trained for basic. Seb, the one the recruiter had hinted was a likely candidate to take to bed. Maybe I would call him when I got home. Or Heath Hendricks. He wasn't likely of course; he was a sure thing.

Epilogue Chapter Twenty-Nine

(Back Home)

I came home to a very empty, very lonely house. I paid Heath who I'd hired to house sit and look after the horses while I was gone then I was alone. More alone than I'd ever been in my life.

I ate simply to curb my hunger. I didn't bother going to bed; I knew I couldn't sleep. Not in the bed. Not yet. And there was the jetlag. I unpacked the pineapple bedpost ornament and set it on my dresser. Just looking at the hashmarks made me choke up. Then I remembered the numbers from the door of our room at the Trent. I went downstairs and got a tack hammer then went back upstairs and dug out the three heavy brass numbers and tacked them to the bedroom door. I stood back and stared at them for a long moment. They belonged there.

The phone rang and it was Seb!

"Mr. Courter, this is Sebastian. I was just calling to see if you're home and how your trip went and to see if you'll be continuing the training. I know a couple of guys who are interested."

This was fate intervening. "Not right away but possibly in the near future," I said, although I hadn't given it a thought till that moment. "Listen, Seb, if you're not otherwise occupied......" I let my words trail off. Did I dare? What if the recruiter was wrong? But how could I ignore fate?

"Yes? What'd you want, Mr. Courter?" he asked.

"If you're not busy, why don't you come out and we can talk about it. The training. I would like have four or six boys to make it worthwhile, if you know anyone else."

"That'd be great! When?"

"Yes, I'm free right now."

"I can be there in a half hour."

"Listen, Seb, I....I'll be back in the woods. Would you like to stay the night?"

"Uhh....yeah, sure, that'd be great, too. I'll grab my sleeping bag."

"There's no need, I've got one," I said.

I was so excited my hand was shaking when I hung up the phone. I went upstairs to shower and flush out, then I lubed deep in my ass so I would be ready without any awkward interruption and laid the tube on the bed to take with me. I dug out the spare Marine Corps jockstrap I'd bought for myself. I pulled it on and checked myself out in the mirror. I liked the dirty green material stretched over my manhood. I glanced at our picture on the dresser and shifted to the photo of Jason in his Marine issue shorts.

"You told me not to curl up in a ball," I reminded him.

I slipped on a T-shirt and cargo shorts and pulled on my boots to walk back to the woods. I grabbed my sleeping bag and a couple of towels in case we went swimming. I didn't bother with the extra sleeping bag.

I walked across the log that served as a foot bridge and found a level spot to spread out the sleeping bag. Then I gathered enough firewood to keep a small fire going. Not to be romantic, but I wanted it to be warm and inviting.

I saw the headlights coming up the lane. It was barely dusk and I watched Seb get out of his car and come toward the woods. Nervously, I added more wood to the fire. He knew the way across the fallen tree; we'd used it in training often enough.

"I like that you built a fire," he said.

"To take the chill off," I said. "Have you eaten? We can go up to the house....."

"No, I ate," he said.

"Then I guess we're good," I said as I peeled off my T-shirt. I saw how he looked at me. I bent down to unlace my boots.

"Gee, I didn't bring my sleeping bag; I thought you said you had an extra," he said.

"I forgot it's at the cleaners," I said. "You think we can squeeze into this one?"

"We can try," he said. He sounded nervous.

"Then we're good," I said again as I slipped off my boots. Then I shucked the cargo shorts.

"Hey, you've got one the Marine jockstraps," he noted. "I like that color."

"It looks old and used," I said as I hefted the front higher on my lower belly.

"I should've worn mine," he said.

"Or I can take mine off if you feel like I'm overdressed," I said jokingly as I turned and squatted down to stoke the fire and add more wood.

"No, I can sleep in my shorts," he said. "I'm really sorry about Jason."

"Thank you. He's back where he wanted to be."

"I think it's neat that you took his ashes back to Vietnam. I bet it was hard for you. I bet you miss him."

"More than I yet know," I said. The whole time we were talking I was watching him undress, my heart rate increasing with each piece of clothing he took off. It was racing as I looked at him in just his shorts. They were brief boxers and they fit him well. My mouth was watering as I imagined my lips trailing over his smooth muscles, my mouth closing over those pouting lips.

"I'm really glad you're going to keep training. The other guys will be glad too. And I would like to help out any way I can, sort of like Kurt Reiner did."

"You've been through it, you'd be a great help," I said. "Speaking of the other guys, I would like to keep this between us, that you stayed the night. I don't want to give the impression that I'm showing partiality. Although I am." I thought it might help to let him know that he was special.

"It's our secret."

"The recruiter said I might get by with trying this," I said as I cupped the front of his shorts.

I heard him swallow hard and he looked frightened. I held his shoulder. "Don't be scared," I said.

"It scares me that he saw through me."

"It was probably just a hunch."

"But he saw something to have a hunch."

"You're fine, Seb. Really, you are. I didn't notice anything to give you away. I wouldn't have given it a thought if he hadn't said something. Even then, I think it was probably wishful thinking on his part." His cock was coming to life inside his shorts.

"Do you want to go in for a cool swim and bring this down, or leave it alone and crawl in the sleeping bag?"

"I think it's too cold to go swimming."

"Sleeping bag it is, then." I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my jockstrap and peeled it down.

"We are gonna sleep naked?"

"Unless you'd rather not."

"No, I....I'm okay with it."

I took the jockstrap and put it around his neck and when he had his shorts off I took his hands and guided him to put them around my neck. "Nice musk," I said as I brought them over my face. "You go ahead; I'll stoke the fire."

I watched him as I stirred the embers and added more wood. I got my first real look at his trim, tight looking ass as he crawled in, but only a glimpse of his manhood. He was hard. I crawled in with him. I didn't bother zipping it up. I lay beside him with my arm across his shoulders and one leg across his butt but there was still a little space between us

I moved closer so I could feel the warmth of his body. He uttered a little moan of contentment.

"Yeah, this feels good, doesn't it," I said.

"I....I never slept this close to anyone before."

"If you're not comfortable with it I can give you more space, or I can.....Look, Seb, I lied about the other sleeping bag. It's not at the cleaners. I can go get it if you want."

"No, I'm good. This is nice."

"You've never done this, have you?


"That's wonderful."

"Why is it so wonderful that I'm a virgin?"

"Because I get to show you things."

"I've got all kinds of images in my head of things I want to try but I never found my nerve to do anything."

"Let's understand something here; we're not going to do anything you don't want to do."

"But that wouldn't be fair."

"It's not about being fair. Seriously, Seb, I would be happy to just crawl in the sleeping bag and have you close to me all night. No sex; just hold each other. It's whatever you want to do. You're a beautiful boy, Seb. You can write your own ticket with guys."

"I've never been called beautiful before.

"Boys and men can be beautiful," I said. "I bet you never thought about kissing another boy, have you?"

"Actually, I have."

"Oh, I'm surprised. That's wonderful. Anyone in particular?"

"Kurt Reiner. He's so cute and he's got the sexiest mouth. I would love to try kissing him but he would probably hit me."

"Maybe, and maybe not. Did you ever think, you're having these thoughts so wouldn't other boys have them?"

"Not Kurt."

"Why you and not Kurt? You're about as studly as studly can be." I squeezed his cock; it was bone hard now.

"This is nice," I murmured. "Are you warm enough?" I asked as I ran my hand down his back, down over his butt. He clenched the muscles for me.

"Yes, it is nice," he said. "Your hand feels good."

"Your butt feels good in my hand. Are you still hard?"

"I don't think it's going to go down any time soon, with us like this. It's throbbing; aching."

"Then it can't be comfortable, lying on your stomach. Turn over and give it room to throb."

He turned over on his back and his cock swayed over his stomach, a tower of boy flesh fit for any grown man.

"You're very well built," I said, running my hand up and down his thigh.

"You've helped with that, showing me how to do exercises properly."

"Not just your muscles.....this, too," I said, taking hold of his cock.

"Uhhnnn," he moaned softly.

"Is this the first time you've ever had anyone touch you like this?"

"Yes, and it feels wonderful."

"Somebody else's hand always feels better than your own." I stroked him and admired his seven plus inches. "Very impressive hunk of meat you've got here," I said.

"I'm okay with it," he said modestly.

"Over seven inches, already above average. You've got some more growing to do, you'll be sporting eight inches by the time you're done growing."

"I hope so."

"I know getting your cock sucked is one of the things on your list of things you want to try," I said.

"Definitely. Right at the top of the list," he said.

"I'm honored to be the first to show you what it feels like," I said. "You ready?"

"I'm all fluttery inside just thinking about it."

I slathered my tongue all around the head of his cock to lick up the ball juice first then I slid my lips down over the head and continued to tongue it.

"Uuhhnnn!" he groaned loudly, like he'd been hit in the stomach.

I gave the head a few strokes then with my tongue still in motion I went on down the shaft. I took him all the way in my throat, my nose pressed against his pubes and my chin against his balls.

"Oh my Godd!" he gasped. "Fuck, you swallowed my whole cock! I smiled around his cock and caressed it with my throat muscles then began sucking him. "Oh my Godd!....Awwwhhh....Ohhh fuck, I must be dreaming, nothing can feel this good!"

I gave him a good sample of what it felt like then slipped off his cock, still stroking it with my fist.

"How was that?" I asked.

"Fucking unbelievable! You had my cock all the way in your throat. I don't see how you did that without choking. You almost made me cum."

"I'm glad you didn't. I'm going to show you how to edge. That's when you go right up to the edge then back off before you cum. You can do it when you jack off too. But it's harder when there's somebody sucking your cock. I'm going to suck you till you get close then you stop me before you cum. Wait about ten seconds then we do it again. The goal is for me to suck you longer each time before you stop me."

"What if I can't hold off? What if I think I can but the trigger trips out of my control?"

"If that happens just let it go," I told him.

"In your....mouth?


"Oh fuck, I can't believe you'd take my load in your mouth!"

"Cum is a terrible thing to waste," I said.

"Does that mean you'll swallow it? You're not going to spit it out?"

"Why would I spit out a perfectly good load of sweet cum?"

"I got a taste of my cum one time and it didn't taste so sweet," he said.

"It's an acquired taste. Now, are you ready to do some edging?"


"Okay, quietly count how long you last between stops, see if you've worked up any control."


"I went back down on him; just the head at first with a lot of tongue action, then I stroked up and down the shaft then all the way down. By the time I swallowed his cock and held it for a few seconds he pulled me off. In a half dozen tries he went from twenty seconds to ninety."

"I call that progress," I said.

"I call it torture; it's the hardest thing I ever did."

"I wanta work on your balls now," I said as I scooted down more between his legs. He spread his legs wider when I nuzzled between them and licked his crotch.

"Ohh, that feels good," he moaned softly.

"It's gonna feel better. Lots better," I told him. I lifted his legs and bent them toward him and told him to hold his legs against his chest. "Beatuful! Nice balls, not to mention an awesome ass."

"I've had girls tell me I've got a great butt," he said.

"You know why girls like a guy with a nice, round, tight butt?"

"No, I Just know they do."

"Your butt muscles are the power behind your hip thrusts. They see a guy with a tight butt, they're imaging those muscles flexing and driving your cock in."

"I doubt they're thinking that; I never fucked a girl before."

"Not for lack of them wanting you to," I said as I hefted and fondled his balls. They were firm and heavy, held high in their sack. I leaned down and kissed them then rose up to gaze at the feast before me. "This is fuckin' mouth-watering." I leaned down and closed my mouth over both of his balls. I wallowed them around in my mouth then locked my lips and tugged on them. I shook my head like a puppy dog with a chew toy, then I popped them free.

"Fuck, that was a mouthful," I said.

"That was weird," he said. "It sorta hurt but it felt god. It was a good hurt."

"If we do it enough, it'll toughen them up," I said. I bent down and did it again, tugging harder, and pulling down on them. With my

mouth full of his balls I was able to reach the top of his ass crack with my tongue. I tugged even harder and licked lower. My mouth was watering so that I flooded his ass crack with my spit. I pulled hard enough that I reached his asshole but then he stopped me, saying it felt like I was pulling his balls off. I decided enough of his balls. His ass beckoned me. I let his balls drape my nose as I licked his ass all the way up and down the crack.

"Ohhhh!" he groaned, surprised.

"That feel good?"

"Yes I can't believe you're doing it."

"You've got a delectable ass that's craving attention. You want me to make it feel better?"

"I don't see how you can."

"Watch me." I concentrated on his hole, stuttering my tongue against it. Then I stiffened it and pushed into the clenching muscle.

"Push out," I told him.

When he did I pushed my stiff tongue in the pucker and his asshole pulled the tip of my tongue in. We did it again and his ass sucked my tongue in deeper. I dug my fingers into the rim of his tight muscle and stretched his hole open and drove my tongue deep inside him. He muffled a scream with his arm and his ass fluttered with excitement, opening up even more. I shoved in as deep as I could and danced my tongue around inside him. Suddenly, with his deep choking groan, I felt his asshole flutter violently and palpitate with hard pulsations, relaxing and tightening and I knew he was cumming.

I wanted badly to capture his cock with my mouth but I rode it out, determined to cause him as much pleasure as humanly possible. From the feel of his asshole it was a gusher and I was anxious to see it; even more anxious to taste it.

As he came crashing down I pulled my face from his butt.

"I couldn't hold back," he whimpered. "I know you said not to waste it but I forgot all about edging. I'm sorry Brad. I couldn't help it.

It's okay, It's not going to waste," I said as I went down on his cock to drain it, then began licking the cum off his stomach and on up his chest and neck.

"I want to do something if you'll let me."

"I probably will, but what?" he asked.

"I'm going to lick up all of your cum and when I've got a mouthful I want to kiss you and give it back to you." He reared his head back with a frown. "You don't have to swallow. If you don't like it you can give it back to me and I'll swallow it, so it still won't go to waste."

"Okay, I guess."

I sucked his cock dry then then lapped up the streaks and globs of cum off his stomach and chest and on up to his neck. Then I hovered over him. He was still wide eyed as I lowered my face over his. I brushed noses first then brushed my lips over his. He pursed his lips till I slithered my tongue across them then he let me slip my tongue in his mouth. It was easy then to use my tongue as a chute to feed him his semen. He accepted it with a low moan and I sloshed the stuff around in his mouth with my tongue. Then I withdrew and pressed my lips to his to seal his mouth. I held the lip lock for a moment

"Let me know if you want to give it back to me," I said. He started to nod but then shook his head no and started swallowing. I was so proud of him.

"Thatta boy; I'm so proud of you."

He kept swallowing and working up spit to wash it down.

"Whew! There's nothing sweet about that stuff."

"I'll bet you learn to like it."

"I bet I don't. Does everybody's cum taste the same?" he asked.


"Well, maybe I will like yours better."

"That's a pretty brave thing to say."

"Well, it's going to come to that, isn't it?" he said.

"I hope so."

"I can't believe how good that felt; your tongue was all the way up inside me."

"As far as I could reach. You've got more feelings inside you that I can show you. I can make you feel good all over your body with my tongue. And more. Much more. But first we rest a bit."

I lay beside him with my arm across his chest and one leg crooked across his thighs, my knee nudged snugly against his balls.

"This is the most incredible time I've ever had in my life," he said.

"It's too early for you to say that; there's more to come."

"It can't be any better than you've already showed me," he said.

"Too early," I said again as I tweaked his left tit.

"I would love to live out here," he said as he played with the hair on my forearm. "It's so quiet and peaceful."

I was taken aback at the thoughts that pushed forward in my head. I quickly dismissed them; it was too early for that, too. Still I offered myself, and him, a tiny branch to cling to.

"I'm going away for a while, Seb," I said.

"When? How long?"

"Very soon. I haven't decided how long yet."

"Where are you going?"

"To Tuscany."

"That's in Italy."

"Yes, it's a beautiful area between Genoa and Rome. Jason and I never got there. Before he died he told me to go."

"I'm really sorry he died."

"He expected me to go on without him. To do otherwise would dishonor him. So I am going to honor his wishes and go to Tuscany."

"Do you think you might like it enough to move there?" he asked.

"Oh I doubt that," I said. "It's hard to imagine wanting to live anywhere but here. We had so many wonderful years here. But, the reason I mention it....I wonder if you would come out here and stay while I'm gone, look after the horses, and the place in general."

"You mean....live here while you're gone?"


"Yes, of course, I'd be glad to."

"There'll be another boy staying, too. He's graduated so he'll be here during the day. His name is Heath......"

"Heath Hendricks?" he cut in.

"Yes, you know him?"

"Yes, he was a jock. I didn't know him real well, he was two years ahead of me."

"Well, you'll have a chance to get acquainted. I think you'll like him. A lot. He likes the same things we do."

"You mean.....things like....tonight?"


"Ohhh, he was always so hot!"

"I expect he still is. Hotter, even."

"Will he be staying over? At night, I mean."

"You boys work it out any way you like," I said. "Right now I wanta show you something else." I made a discreet swipe at my ass for lube then put my hand between his legs. He spread them for me and when I felt along his ass crack he cocked his knees up. "You liked my tongue, let's see how you like my finger." I began rubbing his asshole and he hunkered his butt up to give me better access. I felt the clenching and fluttering and his hole welcomed my finger when I pushed through. I worked it all around inside his ass, probing deeper.

"What're you gonna do?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"I'm going to show you something that's going to feel so good you won't believe it."

"You already have," he said.

"Just wait for it," I murmured as I probed and felt his prostate. It was already alive with anticipation and at my harder touch it responded with hard pulsations.

"Ohh! Oh, Godd! What's that!"

"Your love nut. Your prostate, actually. A girl has a clit; boys have this, although very few boys know about it. It's the epicenter of your male sexuality. It's what you feel kick in when you're about to cum."

"Godd, Brad!....ohhh, Godd!....I feel it! Feels like you could make me cum just feeling it!"

"I could. But there's something else......" I rolled onto my stomach beside him. "Why don't you climb on and I'll show you."

"You mean....on top of.....Geezuss, Brad, do you want me to fuck you? Is that what you're saying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"B-but I thought....I thought you wanted to fuck me....showing me with your fingers....getting me ready."

"I do, but don't you want to see what it's like to fuck somebody? If you don't just yet....like I said, we don't do anything you don't want to do," I said in a chiding manner.

"Oh, I want to! Godd, yess!"

"Then why don't you climb on and find out."

"Geezuss, Brad, this is way more than I expected would happen," he said as he was getting between my legs. "Fuck, I don't believe I'm doing this," he said excitedly. He trailed his fingers over my butt, then gasped with surprise when he felt the slickness.

"Do you want me to do this, like you did to me, with my fingers?" he asked, dragging his finger deep in the crack.

"Yes, if you want to; I'd like that," I said.

He pushed a finger through my sphincter then shoved it deep inside me.

"Is that okay?"


"I'll see if I can find your love nut," he said as he began probing and exploring my ass.

"Awwwhh! You....found....it! Right there!"

"Yes, I can feel it!" he said excitedly. "Man, I can feel it quivering. It must feel real good."

"It does, Seb. It feels wonderful. "Ohh, Seb! Oooooohhhh, that feels so good."

"You want me to use more than one finger?" he asked.

"Yesss! All of your fingers if you want."

"Here's two."

"Ohhh, yeah."

"Here's three."

"Awww, Seb, give me all of them.'

"Here's four....everything but my thumb."

"Awww, fuck, it feels like you've got your whole hand in me."

"You're good and relaxed and stretched out, I probably could shove my whole hand up inside you. Is it too much?"

"No! But I want your cock, Seb. I want you to fuck me."

"That sounds so hot, you asking me to fuck you." He gently withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock hovering right at my gaping hole; I could feel the heat of it.

"Won't this hurt?"

"Not that we'll notice, you've got me stretched out," I said.

He hovered over me. "You're not doing this just for me, are you? Just to show me what it's like to fuck somebody? I mean, do you really want me to fuck you?"

"Yess, Seb. I really want you to fuck me. I wanta feel that big thick seven-plus inches spreading my hole and plowing deep inside me. I really want this."


I spread my legs wider which tilted my butt up at a better angle. I felt the head of his cock pressing against my hole. When he was set firmly I didn't wait, I pushed back onto his cock.

"UUUhhnnnn! Ohh, Godd! Ohh, fuck, that feels incredible, your ass swallowing my cock."

I pressed my butt back against his loins, his young hard cock throbbing deep inside me. The pleasure swept through me as I gripped his cock with my sphincter.

"Ohh, that feels so good, milking my cock with your ass muscles."

"Fuck me, Seb. Give it to me." I sounded like I was begging. Maybe I was.

He eased back several inches then started fucking me. I dropped my head in thanksgiving then buried my face in the pillow to muffle my choking sobs of pleasure. Godd, it felt wonderful to have a young, hot cock inside me. After all the times I'd been fucked, why did this feel so wonderful?

We set a rhythm with me pushing back on his steadily thrusting cock. I had to remind myself that this was a teenager fucking me and I was humbled that it was his very first time.

"Ohhh, Godd, Seb, you make it so good," I moaned.

He made a sound but it wasn't a word I could make out. He tried again.

"Have you ever fucked a woman?" he asked.

"Yes, lots of times."

"Does it feel anything like fucking a guy?"

"To me, fucking a guy is way better. Only a man can make another man feel this kind of pleasure. Women don't understand that."

"That's probably because they don't know anything about a man's love nut," he said. "And even if they did, they couldn't do anything about it. So I guess it boils down to a matter of taste. You either like having sex with women or you don't," he concluded.

"You can go deeper, Seb," I said as I rose up on my hands on knees. My butt spread apart and his next thrust was deeper.

"Ohh, it does go deeper this way. Fuck, that feels so good," he said as he fucked me harder.

At one point his cock slipped out. He quickly shoved back in and discovered the exquisite feeling of my asshole squeezing his cockhead.

"Ohh, fuck, that feels all different from shoving all the way in."

"Pull back till the head of your cock is just inside me," I told him. He did and I squeezed hard.


I squeezed again, and again.

"Awwwh, it feels like your asshole is sucking my cock."

After that he alternated between fucking me with full cock strokes and holding the head of his cock just inside my ass for me to squeeze him.

"Can I cum in you?"

"Yes, of course. I bet you can make me feel it."

"I'll try."

I was amazed at his staying power. I didn't know if he was edging to hold off or if he was blessed with natural staying power. He read my mind.

"I'm edging, Brad, but if I'm taking too long, I can cum."

"You're not taking too long, Seb. It feels wonderful. You can fuck me as long as you want."

"If it feels this good to fuck a guy, I have to wonder why guys bother with girls at all," he said.

"It's a mystery," I said. "But also matter of taste, and your makeup."

"If it's a matter of taste I'll take a boy's ass any day. I've heard horror stories about boys eating pussy and they say it's awful. But a lot of girls make them do it in order to get to fuck 'em."

I chuckled.

"Was that funny?"

"I was just thinking how you're talking yourself out of pussy before you've even tried it."

"I don't know why I'd want to go to the trouble, after this. You know what else? I think talking helps me edge. But I'd like to change to another position, with you on our back."

"Like a girl," I said.

"No, I wasn't thinking that. I just wanta see your face when I fuck you, and see your muscles."

We changed positions several times, each one at his suggestion. I was happy that he had definitely taken charge. He was learning fast, not only discovering new pleasures for himself, he was watching to see what gave me pleasure.

"You know, Seb, I don't think I've ever had a first timer develop such expertise so fast and go on so long," I told him.

"It's kinda easy to catch on when I see how I can make you feel. I'd really like to cum but I don't want to cut it short for you."

I had to laugh again. "You wouldn't be cutting it short, Seb. You already lasted longer than most experienced men I've had."

"Really? Maybe I'm learning, huh?" he said proudly and he fucked me with renewed vigor. He dropped some spit on to my cock and began stroking it. "I'm gonna try to make you cum, too, so show me how feels best for you."

I shifted and squirmed to find the best position with his cock sliding and thrusting against my prostate.

"There! Like that! Awwh, yeah, fuck me, Seb. Fuck me like you mean it," I moaned.

He succeeded in getting me off first. He worked me up to the point where I thought I would implode before I finally exploded. Cum shot out my cock in great thick ropes, like it was being hurled out.

"My Godd!!" I groaned loudly. "Ohh, Seb....Godd, boy!"

He kept fucking me till he slammed in me with the force of a pile driver then he held hard and deep as his body convulsed, choking down his cries of pleasure. He made me feel it. I could feel the stuff spurting deep inside me. His cum felt hotter than my own body temperature. At the end he pulled back and lunged several more strokes then lay on top of me. I held him till his cock stopped throbbing.

"I may never bother with girls," he said as he pushed himself up. My cum clung to us like thick strands of glue.

"Don't say that till you've at least tried it," I said.

"This is the most awesome thing I've ever done. I don't think fucking a girl could possibly be any better."

"You made it pretty awesome for me, coo. You had my nuts boiling, and your cock felt like a stick of dynamite exploding inside me."

"Really? You felt it? I did it right, then?"

"You don't ever have to ask that question again, Seb," I told him.

We separated and he lay beside me.

"I wish the water wasn't so cold so we could go wash off," he said.

"Let's jump in anyway. I'll stoke the fire so we can warm up when we get out."

I stoked the fire and added more wood then we walked out on the log and dropped into the creek.

"Holy Shit, that's cold!" he yelled when he surfaced.

We washed the cum off and got out. We dried off fast then I grabbed the sleeping bag and wrapped it around us and we sat by the fire. It wasn't entirely effective in keeping us warm so I spread the sleeping bag on the ground and we crawled in it. I zipped it up. Seb was shivering and I wrapped myself around him and held him close.

"This has been the most wonderful night of my life. I wish I could spend every night like this." His last words seemed to be choked off.


"It's nothing," he said.

"It's not nothing. Tell me. You were so happy."

"I was just thinking how much I'm going to dread going home."

"What's the matter at home?" I asked.

"My mom and dad fight all the time. There's never a peaceful moment in that house unless I go to my room and close the door."

"I'm sorry. Does your dad drink?"

"Not that much. I just don't think they like each other. It's one reason I'm going in the Marines, to get out of the house. The main reason, in fact."

"Well, you'll be here while I'm away."

"But then I'll have to go back," he said sadly.

It took only a few seconds thought to respond to his sadness.

"Not necessarily. You could stay here," I said.

"You mean....live here....with you?"

"Yes. You could tell your parents you're going to live here with me till you finish your training, then you'll be off to basic training soon after that. Free room and board, and you'd have your own room. They don't have to know the training is over."

"That'd be great! I'll work for my keep. But I don't need my own room. Do I?"

"I thought you might want your privacy," I said.

"There wouldn't have to be much privacy, just the two of us living here, and we don't have any secrets anymore. I know I could never replace Jason but I'd spend every night you'd let me trying to make you happy. I know that sounds sappy coming from a teenager, even bragging maybe, but I think I'd be up to the task. Anything you'd want me to do."

"We'll talk about the arrangements when I get back. But listen, Seb, before you go barreling down this path you should have Heath invite some girls to come out."

"Why would we? You said he likes the same things we do. Honestly, Brad, I don't know if I would even get turned on by a girl. If Heath walked in with a girl and they were both naked, I know I'd want Heath over the girl."

"That could still work out, in a three or four way," I said. "If you saw Heath fucking a girl I'm sure that would get you turned on." We were warmed up and my cock was coming to life against Seb's hip.

"Do you wanta fuck me now?" he asked.

"So badly. But you need to save it for Heath."

"Why Heath? I thought you would be the one."

"You don't know how badly I want to, Seb, but it's better you let Heath take your virginity; someone closer to your own age.

"I don't consider you so old."

"Wait till you and Heath have the place all to yourselves. You'll see what I mean. You won't regret it. Maybe you'd even want to invite Kurt Reiner out and see how that might work out."

"Okay, I'm seeing what you mean already. I would love for Kurt to fuck me."

"Invite him then. I'll clue Heath in. He'll be glad to help make it happen; whatever you want."

But if Kurt doesn't go for it, then he would know about me, that's what I'm afraid of."

"Heath can persuade him to keep his mouth shut. He can be very convincing. Or, you could wait till I get back then invite Kurt and you work it out with him in your own way."

"I would be scared to even bring it up."

"Come on, Seb, if you found yourself alone in the bedroom with Kurt Reiner I can't believe you would pass up the opportunity. Just picture it, you standing at the bunk beds and him lying in the top bunk.....you couldn't think of some way to bring it up?"

"Why're you doing this, trying to make my life so good?"

"Jason and I raised a bunch of teenage boys; maybe I miss it."

"But you wouldn't be raising me; I'll be going in the Marines. What then?"

"Then I'll have to find myself another houseboy," I said.

"I wish you would fuck me, Brad."

"Trust me, Seb, when you've got Heath Hendricks or Kurt Reiner sliding his hot, hard cock in your virgin hole, you'll be glad you waited."

I waited till Jason's military marker was placed, then I booked a trip to Tuscany. I visited the cemetery but only stood and gazed at the bronze marker. I didn't say anything and I couldn't feel what I thought I should. The marker honored him but this gravesite was for the boys. For me, he was in Vietnam.

I contacted Heath Hendricks about watching things while I was gone and told him about Seb. He remembered Seb and sounded glad that he would be there.

"You mean we're going to have the house to ourselves the whole time you're gone?" I could hear the excitement in his voice.

"The house, the barn, the woods," I said. "Just take it easy with him, Heath. He's a novice."

"You're saying you didn't nail him?"

"No. God knows I wanted to and he wanted me to, but he's such a sweet kid, I want it to be perfect for him, with someone closer to his own age. So yeah, he's still a virgin."

"He won't be by the time you get back."

"Well, I saved the best for you," I said. "But listen, Heath, he's really got the hots for Kurt Reiner."

"Don't blame him. I remember Kurt; he had an ass to die for. But then so did Sebastian."

"I'm just saying, if there's any way you can restrain yourself, I'd like for it to be Kurt his first time."

"You're right, it'd probably be the first time for both of them; nothing could be more perfect than that. I'll see what I can do; then I can jump in the saddle after they've been broken in."

"More power to you. Thanks, Heath."

Seb visited again the day before I was to leave. He seemed happy but nervous and I asked him what was the matter.

"Nothing. Just a little nervous."

"About staying here?" I found it hard to believe he was afraid of the responsibility.

"No. About Heath. He was sort of intimidating when I knew him in high school. He's probably more so now."

"He's two years older, but so are you. Don't worry, you'll get along fine."

"I wonder, Brad, if...."

"If what?"

"Well, I'm nervous about losing my virginity."

"Everybody's nervous about losing their virginity," I said. I wanted to dispel his desire to have me do the deed. Much as I wanted to-Godd, how I wanted to penetrate that tight, virgin hole for the very first time--I wanted it to be Heath, someone closer to his own age. Or preferably, Kurt.

"Can you tell me what it's gonna be like?"

"It's liable to hurt a little at first. But no more than getting knocked around on the football field, and that never stopped you from getting back up. Count it down if you have to....count the seconds as he's going in; I promise before you get to sixty you're gonna forget all about counting. Just remember how my fingers felt in your ass and multiply that by a thousand. By the way, I clued him in about Kurt Reiner. He's going to try to arrange it so it's Kurt, not him your first time. He thinks it'd be perfect if you both lost your virginity together."

"Thank you, Brad. Oh, I hope it works out that way. But there's one thing I want....I think I ought to do before you go."

"What's that?"

"Well, it's probably gonna be more than just fucking. You know, some messing around first. I wanta suck your cock and take your load. I wanta have some idea what I'm doing with these two guys."

"Let's go upstairs," I said.

It was good that there were no pretenses. We stripped down and got in bed.

"Can you stay the night?"

"Yes, I can see you off in the morning."

"And get me off tonight," I joked.

"As many times as you want me to," he said.

He took to sucking cock like a duck to water. It was a one way street at first; I lay back and watched him down there between my legs, licking and slobbering over my cock, thinking this would be a great way to spend every night. I didn't try to hold back. This was a lesson as much as it was pleasure. I warned him when I was getting close and he stopped.

"That won't fly," I chided him.

"I know, it just hit me that I'm going to take a load shot directly into my mouth."

"And swallow it," I added. "Heath's not going to mind all that much if you get off at the crucial moment but it makes you look like a scared boy. And you know what Reiner's gonna think."

"I know, I'm gonna do it. I just need to get myself psyched up for it."

"You've already swallowed," I reminded him.

"But not fresh out of a cock, and it was my own cum."

"It's cum, Seb. It might taste a little different, but it's cum. Like drinking soda....one might taste different from another but it's all got the same fizz."

He laughed. "I like how you put things."

"I'm not gonna warn you, my body will," I said. "Heath or Reiner might not tell you when they're getting close, but you'll know."

He went back down on me. I helped things along by putting my hand on top of his head and humping my cock up into his mouth. I didn't say a word when I was working it up, except maybe for a groan in my gut. He knew. He moaned and whimpered and sucked me with more gusto. I kept my hand on his head as I started spurting ropes of cum into his mouth. I didn't expect him to be able to handle it all but I wanted him to stay on my cock. He could deal with it after he had my entire load in his mouth.

He wasn't able to contain it, the stuff started running out the corners of his mouth, down the shaft of my cock. I let him struggle with trying to contain it.

"You got it all, dude," I told him. I waited to see what he would do. Finally, he started swallowing. They were loud swallows; he was gulping it down. I wished I'd brought up a cold Pepsi for him to wash it down. He swallowed again and again then bravely forced his mouth all the way down on my cock. He held it in his throat for a brief moment, then before he choked he rose up, draining my cock with his lips pursed tightly around it.

"Whew!" he gasped. "I did it!"

"You did great," I said. "How do you feel?"

"Accomplished," he joked, making faces.

"Why don't you run downstairs and grab a Pepsi out of the fridge. That's good for washing it down, getting the taste out of your mouth."

I smiled, still in awe of his gorgeous ass as he got up and left the room. It was enough to make me have second thoughts about letting Heath or Kurt have his virginity.

He came back gulping the Pepsi and handed me one.

"I can see I'm not going to be good at deep throat. I hope Heath's not too disappointed."

"We can work on that," I said.

As he sat on the edge of the bed he noticed the large, hash-marked knob of the bedpost that I'd brought back from the Trent sitting on my dresser.

"What's this?"

I explained what it was.

"It should be enshrined," he said.

"Yes, I've thought about finding a display case for it."

"I can make one in shop class," he said.

"You can, really?"

"Yes. I'll have it done when you get back."

"That's very nice of you," I said.

"That wasn't so bad. Can you work up another load for me?" he asked.


"Then I would like to get in some more practice, and you said we could work on deep throating.

I positioned him crossways on the bed with his head hanging over the edge of the mattress. Then I held his head in my hands and fed him my cock, all of it, all the way. He took it without a hint of gagging. I fucked his throat for a moment then withdrew.

"See how easy that was?"

"Man, I can't believe you shoved your huge cock down my throat like it's a used pussy."

"This position opens up your throat," I said.

"I can't thank you enough for all you've taught me, Brad."

"You can stop thanking me, Seb. Trust me the pleasure was mine. Lots of pleasure."

I had Seb drive me out to the airport to catch the connecting flight to Chicago. He was excited about being in charge but I could tell he was still nervous about spending time with Heath Hendricks and hopefully, Kurt Reiner.

"You're gonna be fine, Seb," I assured him. "Keep one more thing in mind....you're going to be a Marine very soon."

"And all of this that you've taught me is going to prepare me for being a Marine?"

"If you're lucky," I joked. "Hey, I'm a Marine and look where it got you with me."

Epilogue Chapter Thirty


I felt a strange calm as the plane taxied down the runway at Chicago O'Hare. It was my first real adventure without Jason and I felt sad, but confident that I was getting on with my life. As the plane leveled off I settled back in my seat and closed my eyes. What would Tuscany be like? Or Rome? I thought I might venture on down to Pompeii. But first, Tuscany, according to Jason's wishes. I wondered if he was watching over me; if he could connect even deeper with my feelings now. I wondered if he could get inside my head. I didn't know what powers the dead might possess, free of the body and the bonds of man-inflicted society. I tried to picture a villa, and wondered where I would find my Italian stud.

I didn't know why or how the tour landed me in Florence but I loved the city. Still, I only stayed one day and night before, remembering the mission Jason had given me, I ventured on. I randomly picked the village of Buti as my Tuscany destination, where I would stay. Its small population of three thousand drew me. The village was some distance from Florence, located twelve kilometers south of Lucca and ten kilometers east of Pisa, somewhat secluded by most standards. A train took me most of the way and I took a bus the rest of the way to the village.

I was able to get rooms in a villa tucked away on a hillside overlooking a vast grove of olive trees and I could see vineyards beyond. It was everything I'd imagined and more than I expected; very typically rural Italian. A large bedroom that opened up to a terrace, a small, intimate sitting room and a large, rather lavish bathroom that also faced the terrace. It was so warm and inviting. I ached for Jason to be there but I didn't allow myself to dwell on what might have been. When I'd unpacked and put my things away I headed down to the village. The winding dirt path overlooked the rolling hills beyond.

I wandered the narrow streets of the village, pausing to look in the shop windows, occasionally going into one. I was surprised to find such elegance in such small shops in such a small village and I could only surmise that many if not most of their customers traveled from the nearest larger cities. I ventured into a very fine men's shop featuring wallets, belts and sandals as well as fragrances and toiletries. A well dressed and exquisitely coiffed woman greeted me when I went in but left me to browse and showed me only the items I asked for. This was certainly the place where I would buy the souvenirs of my trip. I picked out a wallet and a belt then had her show me a complete shaving set; the brush, a mug and a self-sharpening razor and uniquely Italian Floid aftershave.

I saw that the shaving brush, sold separately, was $80 and the mug was $65. I didn't see a price on the razor but the Floid aftershave was $50. The thing that bowled me over was the Cella Classic Italian Shaving Soap at $40. I supposed the price was warranted because the soap was family made for nearly a hundred years. The complete shaving set was $310. I would use it sparingly.

The lady saw my interest in a gift box of Erbario Tuscano toiletries and made an additional easy sale of $185. And while we were at that counter she brought out a sample of Acqua di Parma Colonia. I was always meticulous about smelling good-one of the things Jason liked about me-and this was a "wow" fragrance. She jumped on my reaction and explained eloquently that it was "a strong sensual scent, imbued with masculine elegance with a citrus/floral fragrance, dating back a century.

She explained further, "I doesn't have the longevity that many other fragrances have; it is more for the intimate hours of your life. Your lady will be allured." Then with smug smile and a flip of her hand, "Or your gentleman hopelessly attracted." The way she presented the product was enough to sell it. I had tried to keep a running tally and I handed her ten one-hundred-dollar travelers checks. She handed two of them back to me.

I felt guilty walking out of the shop with such a ridiculously expensive purchase but shrugged it off; I had the money and I would never be visiting Tuscany again.

I found a small café, situated on a narrow street that sloped down the hillside. My waiter came to the table outside in the warm sun, dressed simply in a white T-shirt and black pants with a narrow apron around his waist. The shirt was well fitted to his lean and tanned upper body; I could see his dark skin through the thin material. He carried a towel neatly folded over his left arm. His shoulders were impressive and his arms were well muscled without being bulky. He introduced himself as Angelo. I thought, how appropriate; he looked like an angel, and I thought Jason would approve of this young Italian stud.

With a slight bow he handed me a hand printed menu. I asked him what he would recommend. Without hesitation; Italian beef, because I was American, I was sure. His English was flawless. When I told him that he said he had a very good teacher. I asked him to recommend something more Italian; more local. His grandmother's minestrone and cannelloni with fresh baked bread and the local red wine.

I took his recommendation. If he'd told me day old biscuits and cold gravy, I would've ordered it. He returned with the wine and poured a sample then nodded for me to taste it. I did and held the glass out for him to fill it. I wasn't quite sure of the protocol for picking up Italian boys and I thought the wine would help with my nerves. I needn't have worried. The way he held the bottle caused his bicep to stand out and when I noticed he flexed it for me. He had gotten my message.

There were only two other tables outside the café and neither were taken so the boy, Angelo, devoted his attention to me, no doubt, in part, because he could see a large American tip. There would be, and more, depending on the outcome of this little encounter. There were patrons inside but he kept returning to my table. He'd left the bottle but he came to refill my glass each time, always with a smile, and his smile was electric.

He asked about my visit and made friendly conversation. I told him honestly that I was there, fulfilling a dream that my good friend and I had denied ourselves while he was alive. I didn't know if he took anything from that but the next time he came to refill my glass he stood close enough that my elbow brushed against his apron. He didn't withdraw. In fact, I thought I felt a slight pressure. He asked where I was staying and I pointed in the direction of the villa on the hillside. When he went back inside I quickly drank more of the wine.

When he returned he brought my meal. The aroma was wonderful. He grabbed up the half empty bottle and went inside and came back with a new, cooler bottle. When he poured it he brushed against my elbow again, only this time with a little more pressure, and I could actually feel the bulk of his manhood beneath the apron. He checked on me several times and kept my glass filled with cool wine. I was drinking too much too fast but the sun was hot and wine was cool.

When I was finished he cleared the table then brought out a tray with three desserts. He had removed his apron I noticed a nice protrusion in the front of his trim fitting pants. He had a hardon! When I purposely placed my arm on the table he stood closer to present the tray of desserts and pressed the protrusion gently against my arm. He was hard and very well endowed. We had made contact! Oh, Godd, I thought, I'm going to have this gorgeous, angelic boy in my bed!!

I didn't believe he was a prostitute; I doubted there was much call for the profession in the tiny village. I counted him to be a horny teenager, astute beyond his years, who had seized the opportunity. I wondered if he was a virgin. With his looks it was hard to believe he had held onto his virginity past the age of twelve.

When I was finished he brought my bill and told me how much it was in American money. It was as ridiculously cheap as the shop was expensive and I felt guilty paying such a small price for such an excellent meal. I asked if he accepted American dollars; he said yes. His eyes widened as I paid with five ten dollar bills.

"For your grandmother, and you," I said.

He left but came back with my change.

"It is too much," he said.

"I know, but for your grandmother, and you," I said again.

"I am not allowed," he said, laying the money on the table.

"Could I pay you, then, to give me a tour of your village?"

"Yes, I would be happy to show you our village."

"What time do get off work?" I asked.

"I will see." He left again and came back smiling. "I can go now."


I tried to focus on the tour but my attention was constantly drawn to Angelo. At the village church I took the opportunity to redeem myself for my extravagance by discreetly slipping the two signed travelers checks that the lady had given back, in the poor box.

He took us out of the village and into an olive grove. The shade was nice and there was a breeze wafting through the trees.

"Does the owner mind if we walk in his olive grove?"

"The owner is my grandfather," he said with his killer smile.

"You have beautiful teeth," I remarked.

He gave me a smiling scowl and thanked me.

"Of course your flawless skin sets off your perfect teeth," I added.

He glanced down, smiling and shaking his head.

"You are a beautiful boy, Angelo. Surely you know that."

Still not looking up, he said, "Girls tell me I am handsome."

"And boys?"

"Boys do not say such things to other boys."

"Many boys are thinking it. Do I embarrass you?"

"A little, yes," he said, looking up at me.

"Would it embarrass you if I asked you to come to my villa?"


"No, it would not embarrass you, or no, you won't come?"

"I will come. I like you. You are a nice American tourist. Many American tourists are rude."

"Rude never gets you very far," I said. "Can I ask how old you are?"

"Eighteen. I am out of high school. I hope that's not too young."

"No, but I am wondering about your parents, what they would think of you coming to my villa."

"My parents would not know. They will think I am with friends. At my age and even younger, boys in the village have much freedom."

We were well into the olive grove and he said he had to take a piss. He took a few steps ahead of me but stood sideways to undo his pants and shove them down to mid-thigh. He was very generously endowed. Overly so, almost to the extreme; it appeared to suspend half way to his knees. Truly an Italian stallion. My Godd, I thought, what must his father be like! I could only imagine how big he would be when he was hard. Much bigger than me, without a doubt. Jason would be proud.

He had not stopped just to expose his manhood and tempt me. He pissed like a race horse. When he was done he put everything away and we walked on.

"We have not said it, but you know why I want you to come."


"Have you ever done anything like that with another boy?"

"Only a few times with one of my friends. We help each other out by hand."

"I will want to do more than that."

"So do I but my friend won't do it.

"Much more," I said.

"I would like to do all you would teach me."

"I will teach you everything you want to learn."

"When?" he asked.

"Can you come this evening?"

"Yes. I will tell my parents I'm staying all night with a friend," he offered."

"That would be wonderful."

We had come back through the olive grove, to the path.

"Angelo, I want to give you this," I said as I took my money clip out and counted off bills totaling fifty dollars. "This is not for coming to my villa. This is for your tip, and for the tour. And to buy something for your grandmother." He started to refuse but I took his wrist and pressed the bills in his hand. "Our secret. No argument," I said.

I got back on the path and walked briskly up the hill to the villa. He would be there at seven.

But I pause here to reflect. Tuscany is another story to be told another time....or not to be told at all.

The End

Post Script ONE

From the Author:

This story has been a labor of love. I put a lot into it and it took a lot out of me. In reply to many of the questions I have received about the story; I don't really know where the story came from. I don't know how I tapped in to some of the emotions portrayed in the story. I served four years in the U.S. Army, most of it in Germany. I wasn't in Vietnam, but am humbled by those who were and who have written to me, believing that I was....they said I had to have been there to write about such emotions. Emotions know no boundaries. I simply placed them in Vietnam.

It's a sad ending and you know I'm pretty good at that. I fully expect readers to NOT like the way it ends but life is not always beautiful is it? I did try to give it an uplift at the very end.

It took a lot out of me to write this story. More than once I had to walk away from my computer to bring my emotions in check before I could continue. But it kept drawing me back, almost demanding to be written. I would get up in the night and write. I shed some tears while writing it. I shed tears, still, when I re-read parts of it. I don't know what there is about it. Sometimes I wish I had written Jason MIA instead of dying, but that would have taken out some of the most powerful and emotional scenes. I was asked numerous times to write an alternate ending, to bring Jason back. I have never done that with any of my stories and I wouldn't with this one, but like many of my readers, I had trouble letting go of the characters. I wanted Jason back, too. So I began working on a sequel, and the story just kept flowing. I have revised the story several times and this too, is yet another revision. It is the last. Jason has been laid to rest and so must the story be laid to rest. It has taken up too much of my time, consumed too much of my emotions, and I must move on from it. So it ends, with gratitude for my readers.

If I had continued the story I would have written about a lean, dark, well-muscled youth of sixteen or eighteen or so, an Italian stallion, exceptionally well equipped and with the lust to back it up. I might have considered taking him back with me, as my houseboy. But I had the boy who was looking after my house....Sebastian. I might have written that I returned home to his excitement of showing me the display case he'd made; the base and one side of fine wood, the rest of glass and in it, not only the hash-marked bedpost but Jason's old, tattered jockstrap. I might have written that Seb became my new, younger life partner. But I leave that to speculation, for the story must end.

I wish to express my deep appreciation to my readers for their support and loyalty. I will likely take a break from writing now, but hope to resume in the near future.


Post Script TWO

Dear Readers;

Over the years I've had many of you say that my stories should be published; that you would purchase them if they were. Despite the much appreciated support from readers, my venture into publishing did not turn out well. Some of the ads on Amazon offered e-stories FREE for purchasing their reader; they were giving away my work for their own benefit. And AFTER the stories were published I received their ridiculous Author's Agreement which I refused to sign and I stopped sending them any more stories and then I put the stories back on the free sites.

For those of you who are still interested, I have set up a way for you to make donations in whatever amount you wish. No pressure; your support will be much appreciated, but whether you choose to donate or not is of course entirely up to you. If you wish to donate, please send cash, check or money order to ROBERT TREILING (he my editor and "agent"). Checks or money orders should be made out to Robert Treiling, at:

Robert Treiling; P. O. Box 216; Sea Cliff, NY 11579.

Thank you, in advance. Since I do not collect addresses (or phone numbers) you will not receive a note of thanks unless you email me and I will send a confirmation that your donation has been received.


Post Script THREE

Some interesting facts about the war;

Over 58,000 were killed in the Vietnam War with over 150,000 wounded. Countless more have and are suffering the effects of the war, and have died from those effects although their names are not on The Wall.

Beallsville, Ohio (pop. 475) suffered the largest per-capita loss of life in the Vietnam War. Six young men lost their lives in the war, a terrible and profound loss for this small town.

Thomas Edison High School in Philadelphia sustained the largest number of Vietnam war casualties of any high school in the nation with 54.

The Marines of Morenci; They led some of the scrappiest high school football and basketball teams that the little Arizona copper town of Morenci (pop. 5,058) had ever known and cheered. They enjoyed roaring beer busts. In quieter moments, they rode horses along the Coronado Trail, stalked deer in the Apache National Forest. And in the patriotic camaraderie typical of Morenci's mining families, the nine graduates of Morenci High enlisted as a group in the Marine Corps. Their service began on Independence Day, 1966. Only 3 returned home.

Robert Dale Draper, 19, was killed in an ambush.

Stan King, 21, was killed less than a week after reaching Vietnam.

Alfred Van Whitmer, 21, was killed while on patrol.

Larry J. West, 19 was shot near Quang Nam.

Jose Moncayo, 22, was part of an entire platoon wiped out.

Clive Garcia, 22, was killed by a booby trap while leading a patrol.

The Buddies from Midvale

LeRoy Tafoya, Jimmy Martinez, Tom Gonzales were all boyhood friends and lived on three consecutive streets in Midvale, Utah on Fifth, Sixth and Seventh avenues. They lived only a few yards apart. They played ball at the adjacent sandlot ball field. And they all went to Vietnam.

In a span of 16 dark days in late 1967, all three would be killed. LeRoy was killed on Wednesday, Nov. 22, the fourth anniversary of John F. Kennedy's assassination. Jimmy died less than 24 hours later on Thanksgiving Day. Tom was shot dead assaulting the enemy on Dec. 7, Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. Three hallmark all-American days. Three more names to be placed on The Wall.

Sgt. Robert G. Davison of Muskegon, Michigan joined the Marine Corp at the age of 14. He had four years of service in the Marines when he was shipped to Vietnam at age 18. Robert was KIA on Dec 17, 1966 one day before his 19th birthday

BROTHERS: There were 40 sets of brothers killed in the war.


Richard B. Fitzgibbon Jr. was killed June 08, 1956 his son Richard B. Fitzgibbon III was KIA September 07, 1965.

Leo Hester Sr. Died March 10, 1967 in a aircraft crash his son Leo Hester Jr. was KIA November 02, 1969 also in an aircraft crash.

Fred C. Jenkins Died April 2, 1968, his son Bert M. Jenkins was KIA April 28, 1969. (unconfirmed)

Number of living whose names are etched on the "wall" in error? TWELVE!

Post Script FOUR

For future reference, as a personal request, I would like to hear from readers their first-hand stories of sex between jocks, in the locker room and shower. Especially RUGBY players. I am very much in awe of rugby players' muscular thighs and asses. I have heard only a couple of accounts of rugged sex between actual rugby players in the locker room after a game or practice; I'm sure there must be more such stories waiting to be told.

Would also like to hear from WRESTLERS, LACROSSE players, FOOTBALL players, BASEBALL players, and SWIMMERS. Stories about jocks of all ages welcome.

Thank you.




[email protected]


Rate Story Choose rating between 1 (worst) and 10 (best).

Bookmark and Share

blog comments powered by Disqus