Seargeant Bull

The rough fumble of a set of fingers through the naked warmth between Bull's spread legs woke him from the deep and restful sleep. Each upward stroke along the shaft of his cock worked him closer to unloading the first of the new day's loads.

'Mmm.. ' he growled, eyes shut against the darkness in the bedroom. A sigh smelling of morning breath and the last time he'd nutted whistled down from the shadowy face hanging over his. It teased the hair on Bull's chest and his unshaved chin. Four hours earlier, he'd passed out on his back, sure he didn't have one drop of semen left in the rapidly-shrinking sac of fat balls hanging underneath his pole. Now, the shadow beside him on the bed coaxed rivers of fresh precome out of his bone.

'Good morning, hombre,' the tired, playful voice to his left greeted him upon waking.

'Sure is,' Bull sighed. On instinct, he lifted his head half the distance to meet the waiting lips of Oscar De La Santos, who had lowered the rest of the way. As had been the way for the last thirty or so days, their first morning kiss tasted like their last from the night before, heavy and masculine, reassuringly potent, so powerful it made lips open wider to permit tongues. The room, still dark so early before the dawn, erupted in deep, throaty sighs and the wetness of mouths exploring.

Oscar's stroking of Bull's morning wood continued, but the kiss was abruptly cut short. 'We don't got much time, amigo,' the young Marine cautioned, his voice barely above the whisper line.

Bull tipped his gaze toward the other side of the bed where the digital clock's block numbers read just shy of three in the morning.

'We only got like twenty minutes until my brother gets home.'

Bull smiled and sucked in a deep breath. The air smelled freshly of the ocean outside the bedroom and Oscar's clean, masculine sweat within it. 'Buddy, I don't think it's gonna take me all of five minutes to shoot the way you been doin' me.'

Oscar chuckled to himself as he re-gripped Bull's cock in a chokehold. More ball juice bubbled out of the Sergeant's straining piss-slit. 'Yeah, I noticed.' Then, without further delay, Oscar leaned down, planting his lips on Bull's stubbled cheek. A series of butterfly kisses followed as he trailed from neck to pecs, lower toward Bull's stomach and abs. The anticipation of awaiting the handsome solder-jock's mouth to his knob was almost as good as the actual contact.

Almost.

'Oh, yeah,' Bull huffed through clenched teeth. The moment hit him fully - Oscar's warm lips finally encircled the head of his bone and the dark room suddenly filled with stars.

Tensing, Bull felt his butt clench and his hips lift instinctively to greet the hot mouth going down on him. His upward thrust pushed two more inches of hard Army cock down the young Marine's throat.

As the digital clock ticked silently on, Oscar sucked the snot out of Bull's root, then bathed his nuts in slow, hungry laps. A trigger-handed jack on the Sergeant's tool accompanied each curl of Oscar's tongue around Bull's stones down to the musky area beneath them. At one point, the young Marine buried his handsome face fully between Bull's spread legs. The incredible feel of the sweaty buzzcut scraping against his inner thighs was outdone only by Oscar's hunger for his asshole.

Bull howled out a string of half-muttered expletives, sure that he'd never had it so good before meeting Oscar De La Santos. The other man wasn't just taking care of his needs; it was as if he was making love to Bull's manhood. He reached a trembling hand to the side of the bed, his fingers brushing the hair of one of Oscar's sports- and service-toughened legs. Sweeping his grip up, Bull eventually found the come-packed heaviness of the other man's nuts. A few fumbles later, he sought the uncut bone they were attached to.

Oscar's cock, like Bull's, had toughened to its full girth. A string of nectar dripped from its neck of moist foreskin. Bull gave it a firm pump while brushing his thumb across its piss-hole. Licking the sweet, slightly bitter syrup off his fingers, he wondered if things could get any better.

Is this the happiest you've ever been in your life, guy? a voice in his head asked. While mentally flipping through his memories of the last forty years for an answer, Bull pulled Oscar by one ankle until the other man's gear and hot butt were above his face in a reverse sixty-nine. Wasting no time, he plunged his unshaved face between Oscar's hard, hairy ass cheeks and dabbed at the musty-smelling hole at their center with his tongue. The heavenly tang was peppered with a recognizable taste. He worked a fuck-finger around his tongue to find Oscar's shithole still wet with one of the loads he'd shot up into it during the night. No, he told himself. I can honestly say I've never been happier.

Bull's smile went unseen between the young Marine's ass cheeks. 'I want to fuck you,' he growled. His words sent a hot breath up Oscar's crack.

The man whose butt Bull was eating suddenly spit out his straining bone. 'No can do, bro. We ain't got enough time. Ramon'll be pulling up at any minute.' Oscar shook his head, scattering drops of fresh sweat over Bull's package. 'Let me get you off now. Once we hear him snoring, you can have a go at my ass again.'

Bull kissed Oscar's butthole before settling back on the bed. 'Hard to say no to you, guy.'

Sighing out a sexy chuckle, Oscar returned to sucking on his dick, but the incredible service was abruptly cut short by a sudden explosion of light in the room. Both men looked up to see twin beams cut across the darkness and reflect briefly off the mirror above the bureau. An instant later, the sound of tires on sand and the slight squeal of brakes drove them apart.

'Shit-!' Oscar huffed. He leapt off Bull and charged the window, pulling the blinds apart enough to see outside. 'What's he doing home so early?'

Bull grabbed an old pair of loose-fitting shorts off the pile of discarded clothes on the floor and stepped into them. 'Must'a gotten out of work a little early.' He adjusted the painfully stiff lump between his legs before hotfooting it out of the bedroom to the couch in the beach cottage's front parlor. One diving tackle past an old easy chair and the TV later, he landed on his side facing the door just as the sound of bootfalls sounded. With his head on the pillows and covers thrown over the couch, his eyes half-shut, and all eight rock-hard inches of his cock pinned against the cushions, he waited for the door to open.

A gust of air heavy with the brine of the ocean swept into the room. Through slitted eyes, Bull focused on the newcomer. Even in the poor light, Ramon's policeman's badge glowed a dull silver. Three years older and a few inches taller than Oscar, Ramon's uniform fit his body to perfection. Like his brother, he wore his jet-black hair in a sharp military cut.

Feigning to be asleep, Bull watched Ramon De La Santos kick off his unlaced police boots at the front door before crossing through the dark house to the bathroom. Once there, Ramon flipped on the switch, which sent a triangle of light across one corner of the parlor. He never bothered to close the door before hiking down his fly; this was, after all, a house of men. In clear view, Bull stared, transfixed, as the older brother of the man he'd been rimming less than a minute earlier assumed a classic piss-stance with one thumb tucked into his gun belt. The other fished out his tool.

Like Oscar, Ramon's dick had escaped the chop. An impressive sock of foreskin ensconced the dark pink head. A few seconds into Bull's study of the policeman's cock, Ramon unleashed a geyser of gold into the toilet. The image was too choice to miss, so Bull stared without blinking until his eyes burned and Ramon's stream ran down to a trickle. All the stolen image did was keep the hard-on burning between his legs at full mast while giving him a guilty punch to the guts. Hot as Ramon was, he was still Oscar's older brother.

Ramon shook out the last few drops, yawned, and tucked his uncut hog back into his police uniform. He scratched absently at his package before hauling up the zipper and shutting off the light. Bull rolled over and pressed his raging boner into the back of the couch. Now the wait began.

For the past month, he and Oscar had perfected this secret game. Fresh off his shift, Ramon would usually crack open a cold beer, down it quickly to unwind, then head off to his bedroom. Most nights, it took less than twenty minutes before the house-shaking grumbles of his snores signaled it was safe for Bull to leave the couch and return to Oscar's bed. Since Ramon slept late into the morning, they were free to screw for the rest of the night unless Oscar's job on base demanded otherwise.

For some unknown reason, Ramon's pattern changed this night. As expected, he tucked his head into the refrigerator and the telltale sound of him twisting the cap off the beer bottle with his bare hand erupted in the kitchen. But instead of vanishing back into his bedroom, Bull heard the soft squeak of socks trudge across the living room floor, then the sound of a body slumping in the old easy chair a yard away, followed by the click of the remote control and the diminished volume of the all-night sports channel on the TV.

After the usual twenty minutes passed and it became obvious Ramon would not go so easily, Bull sighed and rolled over to face the smolderingly handsome older De La Santos brother. 'Hey,' he said in a fake, sleepy voice.

Ramon narrowed one eye upon him. 'I wake you up, dude?'

Bull stretched out fully, his big bare feet hanging over the arm of the couch. 'S'okay. They win?'

'You crazy?' Ramon chuckled. 'San Diego ain't won since '98. Atlanta skunked 'em 7-2.'

'Not San Diego,' Bull growled, scratching his chest. 'Seaside.'

'Yeah. I think they blanked Oakland into the Ninth.'

'Fuckin' A,' Bull sighed.

Ramon chugged another gulp of suds before aiming the neck of the beer bottle in Bull's direction. 'You want one?'

'Why not,' Bull answered, figuring if he wasn't going to get laid, he might as well at least get a buzz. He moved to stand, but Ramon flagged him back.

'I got it.' Loosening the last button of his uniform shirt to show the sculpted perfection in the T-shirt beneath it, Ramon stood and crossed back to the kitchen. He returned with two cold ones.

The first few sips went down in silence. Eventually, Bull asked, 'Rough night?'

Face in a hard scowl, Ramon answered, 'Something like that, yeah.'

'Anything you want to lay on me?'

Ramon's dark, intense eyes met Bull's in the television's gray light. 'Nada, Sarge. But thanks.'

'No prob,' Bull said. He guzzled another swig of beer and returned to watching the baseball highlights until sleep claimed him half an hour later.

'Hey.'

The hand on Bull's shoulder shook him awake. Feeling trashed and grungy, he bolted upright to meet Oscar's handsome face.

'Shhh-!' the other man urged, thumbing the direction of the easy chair in front of the TV. Ramon sat spread-eagled sawing logs dressed only in T-shirt, skivvies, and black boot socks. The rest of his police uniform sat in a pile on the floor. 'You up for some waves?'

Bull licked his lips and almost gagged on the stale mix of old beer and even older sex. 'Yeah, if you want to,' he whispered.

One look at Oscar convinced Bull he was. The handsome surf jock stood dressed in his board shorts and favorite shades. 'It's a beautiful fuckin' day out there. Hustle to, Sarge.'

Bull flipped the young Marine his right middle finger before strutting to the bathroom. After a good piss, brushing his teeth, some cold water on his face, and a quick change into a pair of clean shorts, Bull grabbed his sunglasses off the counter and followed Oscar out the door to the beach.

'Okay, get your balance,' Oscar urged. Bull jumped onto the surfboard he'd borrowed from Ramon and followed the young surf jock's lead. 'You're riding goofy-footed now.'

Bull felt the sand beneath the board shift with his weight. 'Yeah, I feel pretty stupid.'

'Shit,' Oscar laughed. 'Goofy-footed means you'll be on the board with your right foot forward. If you guide with your left, that's regular-footed. I go goofy. Gives me more control over the board.'

Bull jumped onto the sand. The feel of the warm grains between his toes restored the smile to his face. 'I trust ya, amigo.'

'You're a wise man,' Oscar chuckled, clapping Bull's bare back. 'Come on.' He picked up his board and started toward the water.

Bull pursued with Ramon's board under one arm. 'What I am is a suffering man after last night,' he said above the crash of the waves.

'Tell me about it,' Oscar growled. 'We gonna play some catch-up tonight after Ramon leaves for work. Promise.'

'I'm gonna hold you to it,' Bull said.

Oscar gave his package a fumble. 'Hold this,' he declared, trotting into the surf. Shaking his head, Bull watched the handsome young jock mount his board, pick the perfect wave, and ride it flawlessly in.

'Woo hoo-!' Oscar shouted before the wave dumped him into the Pacific. Water cascaded sensually down his sculpted, solid chest when he emerged from the surf looking pumped. 'Your turn, dude! Show me what you got.'

For the next hour, Bull stood, fell, and crashed some more. Each attempt to ride the surfboard ended in a belly flop with his big feet sticking up from the waves as the rest of him plunged beneath. Eventually, he got it right, and for ten seconds of near heaven, Sergeant Thomas John Bullen hung on his board and rode the wave almost to the shore, where a Latino beach god waited.

'That was awesome,' Oscar said. He punched knuckles with Bull before grabbing his towel to mop up as much salt water, sweat, and sun block from his glistening flesh was possible before their trek back to the beach cottage. 'I fuckin' love spending my days off down here.'

Bull smiled and caught the towel once Oscar was done with it. He quickly swiped under both arms and the front of his chest before burying his face in it. The wet terry cloth smelled cleanly of Oscar. 'I can see why.' Drying his legs, which ached of the good workout he'd gotten on Ramon's surfboard, he hesitated where he stood. 'Let's not go back home so fast.'

Oscar raised the expensive black sunglasses covering his eyes. 'Que?'

Bull looked deeply into the younger man's dark irises. 'I.. I don't want to leave. Not yet.'

Oscar shrugged. 'Okay, dude. What's up?'

Opening the towel fully, Bull set it across the sand at their feet. 'Nothing. Just thought, you know, that you might want to take in some more sun.'

Oscar narrowed his eyes on what remained of the sun, sinking closer to the water. 'Not much more to enjoy, but hell - I got a ten hour work day tomorrow.'

Bull sank to his butt on the sand. Oscar joined him, and for the next hour, they sat and watched the sunset.

'Coast is clear,' Oscar said. Immediately following his declaration that Ramon had left for work and the house was theirs alone, Bull grabbed the young surf jock by one arm and spun him around, spinning him police-fashion against the living room wall. Oscar moaned and tipped his head back to meet Bull's open mouth, which was waiting with a round of hard, desperate kisses.

'I'm fuckin' gonna explode,' Bull huffed between breaths.

'No shit.' Oscar pushed his butt back into Bull's crotch. The electric contact sent both men racing for the bedroom.

Once they reached it, Bull gave Oscar's board shorts a savage tug, baring the younger man's hard, square butt. Wasting no time, he dropped to his knees and jammed his face between Oscar's hair-frosted cheeks. The taste of salt and hot asshole erupted across his tongue.

'Aw, fuck-!' Oscar groaned, stepping out of his shorts and spreading his legs to allow Bull easier access. Bull's only answer was a muffled grunt. 'Yeah, hombre - eat me out good!'

Bull chowed on the young Marine's can several seconds longer before responding. 'Count on it,' he grumbled, a wide smile on his face.

Oscar skidded off Bull's still-stiff, spent cock and collapsed beside him, resting his head on the pillow. 'Fuck,' he sighed.

Bull sucked in a deep hit of the male-stinking air and wiped the perspiration from his face. 'Damn sweet that was.'

It hadn't taken either of them long to squirt. Oscar's spunk covered Bull's chest. Bull caught sight of his own load leaking out of the handsome Marine's well-fucked hole when Oscar slid off the bed. 'I need a shower,' he said. 'You gonna join me?'

Bull swiped a hand through the puddle of Marine jizz oozing down his right pec. 'Yeah, in a minute. I haven't checked my messages in a week. Gonna do that first.'

''Kay. Hurry up, though.' A cocky, sexy grin broke on Oscar's mouth. Bull knew what to expect and lifted to his elbows in anticipation of the kiss. Oscar didn't disappoint him. Their lips met briefly. When they parted, the young soldier whispered, 'Te amo, Sergeant Bull.'

I love you.

Then he was gone.

Bull lie alone listening to the sound of running water and the haunting cry of gulls in the distance. With sunset lapsed to twilight, he unexpectedly shivered.

He told me he loves me, Bull thought. To his shock and horror, the concept cast an unforgiving shadow over the happiness he'd been feeling just minutes earlier. Sitting upright, he wiped the stale come off his chest with one of the old socks on the floor and contemplated everything the last month had meant.

He said he loves me, and shit - if I couldn't easily say the same thing to him.

The last time Bull thought he was in love, he'd been eighteen. A son he'd never met and likely never would was the result of loving Becky Kendall. Here he was at forty acting like a guy in his late teens again, stealing sex in a secretive way, playing games with Oscar behind Ramon's back like he had with Becky and her family so long ago. Oscar had made him feel young again.

Shit, the voice in his head cussed. That boy got you onto a surfboard today, and you actually enjoyed yourself. But did you love it because of the sport, or 'cause of Oscar? He said he loved you...

All the reality Bull had pushed to the side for the last thirty days came flooding back into focus: the Army, Becky Kendall's death, his son, Jason, and all the people he'd met during his cross-country ride. The sound of the water running one room away restored so many memories - cold showers in Desert Storm, hot ones on base in North Carolina, a rainstorm in Seaside, Massachusetts last March, a day on the beach in San Diego that had felt like a slice of heaven.

He said he loves me...

Bull fumbled through his wallet and pulled out his phone card. He reached for the cordless on the bedside table and jabbed in the code, then his home number. The machine picked up after two rings and played half a dozen beeps.

Six messages, he thought excitedly. Any one of them could be from Jason-!

The first was his assistant, who'd taken in the mail, watered the lawn, and checked the house.

Big fuckin' deal-

The next two were work related and could wait.

Beep-

'Yeah, Bull, it's Chris. Chris Holt. Wondered if you were back in North Carolina yet or still biking out west. Just catching up. Call me when you can. The number's-'

The fifth call was a Tele-marketer. Getting past it to the sixth and final message seemed to take forever. One last chance, Bull thought. Jason...

Beep-

'Yo, Bull, you old buck. It's Inky.' A sad, sinking feeling gripped Bull's guts at the sound of Sergeant Gary Calhoun's voice. 'Where the fuck you been, and what he hell is this I heard about some extended leave, you pussy. If you ever decide to haul your sorry ass back here, we need to get together on the Best Ranger Competition. October'll be here before we both know it, you prick.'

Inky, who'd earned his nickname because of his tattoos, droned on until the machine ran out of tape. Bull hadn't even considered the Ranger competition for months, and now it would be mere weeks until Calhoun's team headed out into the Georgia wilderness to battle other teams for the honor. All he could consider now was the fact that Jason hadn't bothered to call him, and a few minutes earlier, a man not much older than his son had told Bull he loved him.

Bull hauled on a pair of black workout shorts and a fresh T-shirt. He didn't head into the bathroom to the shower where Oscar was waiting. Instead, he returned to the beach and dug his toes into the cool sand. There, he cried a few tears that stung and felt like a million.

'Amigo-!'

Bull turned to the sound of Oscar's worried voice and footsteps in the sand nearby. 'You okay?'

Bull nodded. He'd lost track of time out on the beach, but had restored most of his resolve behind the armor that had protected him for more than two decades. 'Yeah, why?'

Oscar looked around before plunking down beside him. A wave of clean-smelling skin and coconut shampoo gusted around Bull with the other man's arrival. 'It's just, you know-'

Bull dug his toes deeper into the sand. 'I needed to breathe a little, that's all.'

'That's cool,' Oscar growled. 'Hey, you hungry? How about we go get some pizza?'

Bull tipped his eyes in Oscar's direction. Even in the darkness, he could make out the other man's features clearly. In his bottled gaze, Bull studied his exquisite face from the top of his short, black buzzcut down past his eyes, nose, that amazing mouth and chin. It would be so easy to fall in love with him deeply, wholly, perhaps forever. To fall in love and be loved back. That concession, however, would come with too heavy a price.

'No,' Bull growled. 'I only want to fuck you.'

The hair from Oscar's closest leg brushed up against Bull's. 'Sheesh,' he chuckled. 'Your wish is my command.'

Bull stood and trudged the rest of the way back to the beach cottage in silence.

He pushed Oscar face-first down onto the bed. Unlike the other times when he'd been able to kiss Oscar's incredible mouth and see his initial pain at being fucked turn to pleasure, Bull entered him doggy-style.

'Aw, shit-!' the young Marine howled.

Bull slammed into the moist tightness and closed his eyes. He tried to imagine any number of beautiful women, those he'd fucked in real time and those he would have given his left nut to bang. A parade of porn sluts, super models, and movie stars took Oscar's place on the bed beneath him. The young Marine's choice ass became some bitch's shaved pussy full of his cock. In and out, out and in, he fucked harder and faster.

But try as hard as he did, Oscar never vanished completely. None of the women he dreamed of boning were anywhere near as good or true as the man whose ass he plowed.

You're a man, Bull, not some queer, the acid voice in his mind protested. You don't fuck other dudes. You're a Ranger. Act like one. Rangers don't fall in love. They kill the enemy and fuck women. Kill and fuck, fuck and kill some more. But they don't get soft, 'specially on another man!

Bull shoved in. The handsome Marine beneath him grunted and pushed back to meet his next thrust. Bull opened his eyes again. Oscar's beauty, even with his face turned away, was overwhelming.

No. You're a Ranger. Let me hear your battle cry, Soldier!

'Fuck, Sarge,' Oscar sighed suddenly. Then he repeated those three words that put Bull in this dilemma. 'I love you-!'

Bull felt his nuts slam the set of low hangers dangling between Oscar's spread legs and blanked from the jamming of their balls together.

Give me your battle cry, you pussy!

Before he could stop himself, Bull shouted, 'Rangers lead the way! HOOAH!'

Oscar looked over his shoulder, a confused look on his handsome face. Bull felt the fire in his nuts intensify and pushed back in. Sweat poured down his face and clung to Oscar's bare back, filling the room with a musky haze.

They were both so consumed by the near violence of their fucking, neither heard the car pull up or the sound of front door opening. The secret of what they'd been doing for a month ended with the scrape of booted feet in the hallway right outside Oscar's bedroom.

With his cock buried to the balls in Oscar's ass, Bull looked quickly up. There, at the open door, stood Ramon.

Frigid silence replaced the burning cacophony in Oscar's bedroom. At first, Bull wasn't sure what to say, or if the younger of the two brothers pinned beneath him was aware of the invasion until he felt Oscar tense. A panicked 'Oh, fuck, no-!' escaped his lips. 'Ramon, shit - oh, shit!'

Dressed in his full police uniform except for his tie, the older De La Santos brother studied the action taking place on Oscar's bed with a scowl on his hard, handsome face. Bull shot the digital clock on the bedside table a quick look to see it was barely past nine. 'What are you doing home so early?' he stuttered before he could stop himself. 'Left early,' Ramon huffed. His deep, dark eyes shifted from Bull's to Oscar's. 'Been feeling sort of anxious lately.'

Oscar turned away and collapsed beneath Bull's weight. 'Ramon, I can explain, bro,' he attempted. Ramon stood unmoving at the door, one hand on the frame overhead, the thumb of the other tucked into his gun belt. 'Yeah, I figured you had an explanation about this Army dude, and that it wasn't just something friendly.' He locked eyes with Bull, whose bone still burned up Oscar's shithole. Bull readied to pull out, but the older De La Santos brother growled, 'Keep going.'

Bull shook his head, scattering drops of sweat down on the rigid back beneath him. 'What-?'

'I said keep fucking. I didn't come home to break this up.'

As Bull watched in disbelief, Ramon stepped into the room and over to the bed. He reached down, unzipping the fly of his police uniform pants. A quick fumble in his pants unmasked his half-hard, uncut beaut of a cock into clear view mere inches from Bull's face. 'Keep going, Sarge. And while you're at it, why don't you show me some respect and suck this dick a'mine.'

Bull licked his lips, but hesitated a moment longer before following through on Ramon's demand. His confusion was made worse by Oscar's protest.

'No, not Ramon-!' the younger brother pleaded. 'Please, Bull - don't do this if you love me, dude!'

Bull looked down to see the desperate, wounded look on Oscar's handsome face. Genuine pain filled his eyes.

He'll get over it, the voice in Bull's head interjected. Make it clean before you really end up hurting him. You can't stay here and be happy forever.

Bull drew in a deep breath, felt his cock stretch inside the younger brother's asshole, then leaned forward. The bittersweet taste of uncut cock exploded across his tongue. Oscar turned away and swore into the pillow. Bull up-tempoed his thrusts. With one hand fumbling Ramon's sweaty cop's balls and his mouth clamped to the older brother's moist foreskin, he knew he'd set in motion a division that would only widen, and never be undone. 'Yeah,' Ramon moaned. He reached down and played with Bull's nuts. 'I knew you two wasn't just buddies from the service. I knew what the score was with you. I could smell it on you. The sperm. For weeks, I swear I could smell it on you.'

The musky taste of Ramon's cock quickly grew heavy with a trace of precome. Ramon's load was saltier than his younger brother's. Bull savored it, knowing it would sour on his lips before the night was over.

'Been jerking off for weeks thinking about what's been going on here when I wasn't home.. ' Bull slurped harder and faster before stopping to lick the sweat off the older brother's nuts. Looking so handsome and horned-out in his crisp black police uniform, Ramon - like Bull - temporarily seemed to ignore Oscar, who continued taking the Sergeant's cock up his ass without moving or speaking. He was still sucking Ramon's nuts when the older brother grunted something loudly in Spanish. A geyser of hot come splattered Bull's cheek.

He quickly gobbled up the last of Ramon's juice, shoved into Oscar's ass, and as the itch in his nuts became a burn, he pumped off what he suspected would be the last load he'd ever shoot up the young Marine's hole.

Before he'd even finished, Oscar shoved him aside with a show of impressive strength. 'Get the fuck off me,' he snapped.

Ramon stood stroking the root of his spent cock and stepped to one side, allowing his brother an exit from the room. Bull buried his face into the pillows that smelled of Oscar, more numb than embarrassed or stoked. He listened briefly to the sound of clothes being pulled on in haste, the clink of car keys, the slamming of the front door. Oscar's jeep pulled out of the driveway in a hail of sand and pebbles. In its wake, a tenebrous silence settled over the cottage. Bull felt the mattress sag to his left. He glanced over to see Ramon in the place Oscar had previously occupied. He stroked openly on his reawakened cock, forcing its dark pink head to bob up and out of its sock of foreskin with a wet sucking sound.

'Thanks, dude,' the older brother said. 'I really fuckin' needed some head.' Bull didn't address the praise. Ramon's smoldering, four-alarm grin widened. 'You up to giving me another go?'

Bull licked his lips. For a second, he almost complied, but the guilt of what he'd done to Oscar wouldn't permit him to follow through. 'No.'

Rising from the bed, he pulled one of the two saddlebags containing everything he'd brought with him cross country to San Diego and fished out a pair of fatigues, socks, and clean boxer briefs. While Ramon sat jacking himself a yard away on Oscar's bed, Bull dressed. When that was done, he shoved all of his stuff into the bag, clean clothes with the dirty.

'You think what we did was wrong,' Ramon asked, his voice broken with puffs for air as his next blast of load came closer to shooting.

Bull glanced over to see fresh precome dribbling from the glistening folds of the older brother's foreskin. He nodded. 'Yeah, it was wrong. But it was also the right thing to do.'

He slung the bags over his shoulder, fished out the keys to his Harley, and headed toward the door. The sight of Ramon stopped him in place a second longer.

'Come on, dude,' the policeman urged. 'Finish me off. Suck this cock!'

Bull wanted to, but the thought of Oscar out there pissed off and hurt in ways Bull never intended wouldn't allow it. Saying nothing, he walked out of the beach house and into the warm night.

He stowed and secured his gear, then gunned the engine, driving away from the house and what had happened there as fast as the traffic signs allowed.

Dear Oscar,

I wish I could tell you what knowing you has meant to me. I wish I could put into words how sorry I am for what I did, or explain why I did it. Best to leave it that you're better off free of the shit I'd end up dumping on your life if I had stayed with you and not been such a total prick to you with Ramon. But I think - no, I know - you are the finest human being I've ever met and you deserve to be with somebody who knows how to respect a treasure like you.

Forgive me if you can. If not, I understand. I won't forgive myself, ever.

Bull

It took him a week and almost five hundred miles to write the letter. Somewhere in New Mexico, he ripped it up and tossed the slivers to the side of the road. North Carolina was still too far away to think about anything so distracting as losing both his estranged son and the one true love of his life.

Home, Bull thought.

It was time to go home.

TO BE CONTINUED...