Naval Tradition I: Coming of Age

Coming of age

by Bill Drake, with CPL Cody

Norfolk, Fall 2000

The home phone rang a few times as I hurried downstairs to pick it up.

"Hello?" I answered, half expecting it to be Dad.

"Jim? It's Pete."

"Hey man," I replied with a smile.

"You got plans tonight?" he asked.

I should have had plans. It was Saturday night after all, but my date had cancelled on me. I'd been seeing Ann Morton for a couple of months, but I knew I was just going through the motions. By now, Ann probably knew it, too. She called earlier saying she had something else that had come up and couldn't meet me for a movie.

"Nah. Ann stood me up," I said as I took the cordless phone with me to the living room.

"Sorry to hear man. What's her problem?"

"It's cool," I said as I threw myself onto the couch. "I don't think it's that serious between us."

There was a pause of nonverbal acknowledgement over the phone. Then Pete said, "Look, McGrath, I got a good stash that's got our name all over it. You mind if I come over?"

"Sure, man. Come on over." Dad was away, deployed for the next few months, and Matt was at the Naval Academy now, starting his freshman year. My police officer brother Paul was working second shift that evening. So I had the house to myself and kind of liked it that way.

I had first tried pot a couple of months earlier and while my general impulse was to be sparing in partaking, I did enjoy smoking weed, particularly with Pete.

Peter Miller was my best friend. We were both Navy brats and both jocks — he was a varsity player on the football team, while I was the star second baseman of the baseball team, but neither of us gave a shit about the cult of popularity at our school. We might play along when we had to, but when alone we'd laugh at how ridiculous our classmates were and how small-minded Norfolk could be. But more than that, Pete was always game for anything, and his sense of adventure played well against my cautious streak.

About ten minutes later, the towering jock with shaggy brown hair was entering my house with a baggie concealed in his clutched, beefy hand.

Pete and I went upstairs to my room. I put in a DVD before we sat back on my bed, shoulder to shoulder, and proceeded to get stoned.

"Where's you get this, man?" I asked after a smooth exhale. "It's some good shit."

"Langley always has a connection," he replied, referring to a football teammate.

We passed the joint back and forth, and after a while we lit up another. I knew we shouldn't get too baked, at least not Pete. While in the past he'd slept over at my place, his parents weren't too keen on that now that my father was deployed. He'd have to get home by 10.

"That was an awesome game last night," I said. Now mid-November, the previous night was the last season game for our high school’s football team. Our guys had lost but it was against a tough rival and had been a tight game.

Pete grinned. "Thanks, McGrath. Would have been better had we won."

"Hell, that's why baseball's better. You know you're gonna lose a lot of games, even if you're an amazing team."

Pete chuckled, and I watched his belly move in the process. Let me add that Pete was nowhere nearly as toned as I was, but his musculature was impressive. That he was a lumbering 6'4" made the bulk more impressive. Every time I saw his broad chest, I'd get a quickened pulse and a tingle deep inside me, only the attraction was something I was unable to admit, maybe even to myself. That explains the surprise I felt at Pete's next comment.

"Man, the guys on the team would rib me hard if they knew I was spending Saturday evening with a baseball faggot."

"What the fuck, Pete?!" Even stoned, I was surprised and pissed off by his comment.

"Easy, man. I'm just joking. According to all the lunkheads who play football, you guys are all fags. "

"Consider the source," I bantered back.

"Oh, yeah, I bet ya a number of those dudes secretly go that way. Fine if they do, I guess. I could care less where a fella wants to put his dick."

"Guess you're right. None of my business." My heart was racing and I did my best to act casual. We didn’t look at each other as our conversation stalled.

Pete sighed.

"Besides," I heard Pete's voice break the silence that had fallen between us, "it might make life easier if I was gay." Hearing him say this in his baritone jock voice was odd to say the least.

"Shit, you kidding?" I asked, a nervous sweat forming on my brow as I turned to look at the stoned but somehow vulnerable jock. I didn't like where this conversation was headed.

"Well, I know part of it would be miserable. Putting up with the small-minded fuckers at our school. But hell, look at us, Jim," Pete said, finally letting a smile creep back over his face. "Two attractive young men at home on a Saturday night because we got stood up. It'd be a lot easier if we could fool around."

I gulped and looked into Pete's glossy brown eyes. This wasn't a put on. There was something there, present in his stare. It's why he'd brought it up in the first place. I didn't answer right away, I couldn't. The silence hung still. Then, holding his gaze, I whispered, "Yeah, it would, wouldn't it?"

Slowly, cautiously, my best friend eased his hand up ‘til it rested on my thumping chest. We held each other’s stare as Pete started to caress my solid pec muscle through my t-shirt. Immediately, my nipple hardened under his palm. More surprisingly, my dick went ramrod-rigid in my briefs.

"Man, Jim, you've been hitting the gym a lot lately, I can't get all of your pec in my hand. They're almost as big as some girls' boobies," he laughed, cupping my muscle while his fingers gently dug at me. "And it looks like your nips are hotwired to your sex drive too." He looked down at my hardon. I blushed.

Pete was getting boned, too. I wanted to reach out and feel him up too - feel his football-honed bulk in my hands, grope the mound in his jeans, knowing that I had this affect on him. But I felt too chicken.

"Um... Jim... Can I try something?" Big, tough, football Pete was definitely nervous. I don't even remember nodding my agreement, but maybe I did. Pete sat up and stripped off his T-shirt. His bulky teen muscles were smooth but mesmerizing as I watched him maneuver his body on top of mine, his large quads now straddling my groin. "Take off your shirt," he urged, as he touched the hem at my waist.

I did. Before my shirt hit the floor, Pete leaned over me, our smooth chests and abs were in direct contact and our hard crotches ground into each other. Pete started a slow thrust and the new feeling was magnificent. With each swivel of his hips, a doubt was removed from my mind that this was what I wanted: sex with another man.

I still didn't know what that would entail though. I just contented myself to reach and grasp at any bit of exposed flesh I could on my best bud. Whereas my conditioning had been disciplined, Pete approached athletics as ‘more is more.’ So his lats were overdeveloped, his glutes small curves above bulging hamstrings. But, fuck, it felt great having his bulk on top of me, pinning my frame down on the bed, fucking that bulge of his against mine as I settled on holding his solid waist

Our faces were inches apart. I could feel his breath on my lips. Pete stared into my blue eyes as we rubbed bodies against each other. I think both of us wanted to lean forward to kiss, but didn't dare. Instead Pete spoke again in a low whisper.

"And another thing that's better. Girls always put up a fight when you try to take their underwear off. You're not gonna fight me, are ya, Jim?"

"Nah, you're my best bud." It was a fun and playful thing to say, and I felt giddy as Pete smiled, already his big, beefy hands were fumbling with my jeans and then at the elastic of my briefs, shucking them down. Then he pulled his down too, kicking them off his legs.

Pete's dick was the first real life erection I'd seen besides my own. It was just shy of average, probably 5 and a half, uncut, and the width of a popsicle. It poked up straight from a hairy crotch, without any curve or variance in width. For a big bruiser of a guy, I expected a bigger piece of meat swinging between his legs, but I wasn't disappointed in the least. This was the first time I'd seen a man's cock hard, and I was getting to see it up close. It was fantastic.

Pete meanwhile gasped as he took in the sight of my cock.

"Jesus, Jim. Not only are you better looking and a better athlete than me, you gotta have a bigger cock. It's not fair."

It was fantastic realizing I was bigger than average and desirable for it. When I looked up at Pete's face, I could see the look of unadulterated lust in his eyes. He was getting off on my fat prick, and he reached down to grip it tenderly. His touch felt electric. A real live hand on my dick. That it was my best buddy's made the warm touch that much better.

"Man, McGrath, where did you get such a fat fucker? This thing's huge." He started gripping and stroking it as if he was afraid he'd have to let go at some point.

"My dad, I guess." The words came out of my mouth, but once I said them, I thought immediately of my father. I wondered how big his cock was, its shape, what it was like hard. The same as mine? I knew you shouldn't think about your parents having sex or your own father hard, but right then, with Pete's hand jacking me off and the guy literally drooling over my cock, the sexual thoughts came flooding to me fast and out of control. Already fully boned, my thick stalk spit out a drop of its natural lubricant, making my friend's rough, callused hand suddenly sticky-slick.

"Don't hate me, Jim, but I gotta do this."

Then, all of a sudden, my best friend and fellow jock was bending down and licking my cock. Talk about amazing. Of course I knew about blowjobs and knew that gays were called cocksuckers, but somehow the idea that another guy could go down on me drove me wild. I was getting my first blowjob, and from a dude no less.

I don't know that Pete had any experience at sucking dick, but his motions were smooth, his throat relaxed and the feelings on my prick exquisite. I listened to my breath hitch as I was still somehow afraid to touch his hair. So I just clenched my fists as my sides, gripping my comforter, watching Pete enjoy my dick. He alternated between shallow bobs on the first few inches, polishing my knob with his fat tongue, and deep, full thrusts of my dick to the back of his gullet. I savored every trick he tried on me and relished the sight of his hunky bod flexing as he gobbled my cock.

Here was Pete Miller, top jock, getting so turned on by my big one that he was kneeling at the base of my crotch, eating every inch of me he could stuff into his mouth. It made me feel powerful, alive, like a real man. With the girls I'd screwed, I hadn't felt a rush like this. This was my buddy Pete, worshipping my piece of beercan-thick McGrath cock.

Finally, with a grunt, this gridiron stud buried his nose closer to my pubes. My eight fat inches were too much for him to take to the hilt, but he had me deep inside his craw. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but his hands gripped my hips tightly and his biceps balled up as he bobbed up and down several inches at a time. My buddy was giving it his all to get me off. I obliged. My body shuddered, my fists clenched, I yelled out, and my nuts pumped salvo after salvo of rich, teenjock semen into Pete Miller.

He just held on to my pulsing shaft, lips locked around the head as he ran his fingers along my ballsac, coaxing more juice out of me. I tried not to whimper, but this was by far the best orgasm of my young life, it might as well have been the first.

When I had nothing left, Pete backed off, gasping for air, mucus and sperm dripping from his mouth. He sucked half of it back into his mouth as his lungs filled up with air. The other half landed on my spent cock, which Pete dutifully licked clean. At last he knelt up. His cock, still rigid, had just shot. His hood pulled back as thick globs of ivory cum cling to the shiny tip.

"Well, now you know. Your buddy's a faggot," he said dejectedly.

"Why are you apologizing, man? That felt incredible," I replied with consolation as I sat up a bit.

His big frame plopped next to mine on the bed. "Thanks, Jim. I wanted you to like it. You think... maybe... fuck, I don't know how to ask this, so I'll just come right out. You like guys, Jim?"

I looked at Pete, and I hesitated. I wanted to tell him. But I couldn't. Saying it aloud would make it more real. "Nah, bud. Don't get me wrong, that felt great, what you did. But I don't go that way."

"I figured as much, Jim. But you know I love you, don't you?"

I was stunned in silence. Then, slowly... "No, I didn't know."

"I didn't think I was going to have the guts to tell you. But I've had a crush on you since we met at football camp in seventh grade. Jesus! What's the fuck's wrong with me, Jim?" He started sobbing.

I reached around his massive chest and pulled his naked body against mine. Our arms wrapped around each other, his face fell into the crook of my neck as I felt his tears on my skin. "Nothing buddy, nothing," I said against his temple "It's just how things are." We pulled apart just enough to be face-to-face. "Look, Pete, nothing's changed, you're still my best friend and I love you like a bud. That's all, but it's something isn't it?"

A smile broke through the tears. "Yeah. Yeah, Jim it is."

"And if it makes you feel better, then you can swing on my dick anytime you please."

"You horny bastard," Pete laughed, wiping his tears as we broke out of our hug.

"Damn straight," I replied. "And I noticed you shot just sucking me off. You like it, don't you man?"

Pete was sheepish. In a deep, soft voice, he muttered. "I do."

I pulled him close to me in a tight buddy hug. "That's cool. I'm honored, bud. Truly."

We got dressed again, and pretty soon it was time for him to leave.

"I'll call you tomorrow bud," I said as I walked him to the door.

He paused, like he was trying to read me. I was keeping my best poker face, though, scared of what Pete would see. Yeah, I was a fucking chicken and a heel to lie to Pete, but I just wasn't ready to be honest.

"Yep. Good night, Jim," he said, then turned and walked out.