My eyes found Daniels in the base gym the second I entered it - of course they did, that big, hot fucker I'd had a hot afternoon with several years before on a visit here. I didn't show I'd seen him, of course, just made my way in a wide arc, far from him, around the gym to get my bearings. Finally I turned, the third time I'd heard him call out my name, that time very close behind me.

I grabbed Daniels' big outstretched paw in mine and pulled him in for a bro hug. His sweat wafted into my nose, but I felt it in my nuts and cock. "Just got here today, actually," I had finally responded to his comment about not having seen me.

Daniels wiped his sweaty forehead with his thickly corded forearm, exposing his sweat-soaked hairy pit, again making me swoon . . . inside. After all, we were in the base gym, so playing it cool was in order.

"How long ya here for this time?" he asked, as if it had been a week, not three years, since I was there . . . and since we'd spent too many hours fooling around together.

"Why don't I work in with you?" I asked, the best way I could think of to get close to his hot, sweating body again at that moment.

I helped him set the weights for incline leg presses - six hundred and seventy-five pounds to start! Those massive quads of his didn't come from easy, that was for sure. "I'm PCS'd here as of today," I told him casually, causing Daniels to react appropriately.

"NO FUCKING---" he caught himself. "Congrats, Captain," he offered across the weight bar. "That is, if you are happy about your posting," he added, a bit sheepishly.

"I asked for it," I told him, racking another ninety pounds on my side as I did. "And it's Major now. I kissed ass enough to get my oak leaf, and now I'm going to try being the base commander's bitch. The colonel's aide apparently left a bit suddenly.

"OH MY GOD," Daniels said, shoving his last two plates onto the bar on his side with a loud PLUNK. Then, inexplicably, he started laughing, and not a little chuckle, he was really laughing hard.

"What's so funny?" I asked him a bit peevishly. When he just laughed harder, I finally stepped around the incline press and crowded him a bit. "What the FUCK is so funny, Daniels?" I demanded.

Daniels pulled me in with a huge forearm around my neck until my body was shaking with his laughter from his chest against mine. Quietly, with great difficulty, as he was still laughing his butt off, he told me, "Well . . . ya see . . . Colonel Gi-bbbbpshhhhhhhhhhhhhh," and he was laughing out of control again.

The annoyance of wanting in on the joke was at odds with the excitement of the feel of his muscles undulating against me as he laughed and the smell of his sweat intoxicating me. I'm pretty sure I actually moaned a bit, which is what caused Daniels to push me away and quickly get down on the press, and grunt like a beast when he pushed up and released the weight rack.

Daniels put his all into the presses, though between reps twice he guffawed before getting himself under control again and working the weight stack up again. Goddamn those quads were amazing! When he finished his set, he bounded up. "Your turn. How many you want taken off for you" he said with a taunting grin.

"Fuck you!" I growled and got myself into the seat. Ffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccccccccckkkkkk it was a fucking ton of weight, and I struggled, all the while Daniels smirked down at me. But I did my twelve, barely, and growled out a long exhalation when I got the lock set again and let my body flop like a marionette whose strings had been dropped.

"Not bad at all, Major," Daniels grinned down at me, offering his hand to help me up. As I brushed against him as I was getting my footing he growled quietly, "I certainly hope you will," eyes full of mischief, holding my gaze.

I looked at him, wondering what the fuck he meant, and he only waggled his eyebrows, then got himself into position again. "Rack me another ninety, would you?" he said, moving around in the seat, getting himself into the perfect position. I did enjoy the sight of his muscles in motion.

I did, knowing he was showing me up. I'd pretty much shot my wad on the six seventy-five my first set. He was a stud, no doubt about it, and I added another forty-five pound plate to each side and enjoyed the sight of him shaking his legs, his quads, calves and shoulders rippling, as he got ready. With a huge grunt, grimacing, he shoved his legs forward and unlocked the rack. "Unnnnnnggggghhhhhhh!" he gasped, and looking at that grimace, I couldn't help but think of that same sound and look when I shoved my raging boner balls-deep into his well-remembered tight pucker!

As I watched him strain and push through rep after rep, his loud grunts getting louder and longer, my cock could only put my mind at him taking my deep, HARD thrusts, over and over, and I felt my shorts getting tight in the crotch. NOT a good thing in the base gym!

When Daniels re-locked the rack with a loud, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh FUCK YEAH!" and let his body slack, he looked up at me, then noticeably brought his gaze to my trunks. When he brought his gaze back up to meet mine, he slowly licked across his upper lip with a look of sheer slutty intent. "Well, I see you're ready to pump hard, so have at it!" he leered.

As Daniels got up, he deliberately brushed into me, and grabbed at me, again purposefully, as if to steady me. One of his hands accidentally brushed my boner, painfully contorted inside my jock strap, as he did it, and his grin was even more filthy when he said, "Sorry, bud - got my head spinning with the hard pump!"

Okay, not the best innuendo, but two mentions of pumping, my own nasty thoughts, and I needed to hold my sweat towel out in front of me hanging to cover my cock's obvious agenda of its own! "Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," I growled, the response involuntary, but the only thing my mind would let me express.

Daniels laughed and slapped me on the back HARD. "Go on, MAJOR," he taunted me. "PUMP IT HARD!"

I got into the seat, forgetting about the extra weight, and went for it. I did it, too, with a loud, "FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" that resounded through the gym on my first push up to unlock the rack and then a long, "AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" as I made my first rep.

I held a beat at the top of that rep, and Daniels, in a far more serious, almost awed voice, said, "C'mon, DO IT! That's fucking AWESOME!" and stood by the bar in case I needed the spot.

I had a stray thought as I strained to make my twelve - which I did, by the way, though slowly and noisily, without his help with the bar - that I was making the kinds of noises I knew he'd make if he gave me a shot at his cunt. That didn't help my hardon any, which had taken a slight rest from its excitement after that first agonizing push - now it was back, harder and more demanding than ever.

"DUDE! That was awesome! You PUSHED it, man!" Daniels grinned down at me, thrusting his hand out to help me up. "My turn now," he said as I was coming up. And then, as I was on his feet, he stepped toward the seat but deliberately was right next to me and, quietly, told me, "And I'm hoping it's OUR turn right after our workout!"

FUCK ME! My fucking cock was raging, and there was absolutely no possibility I could hide it, and even less that it was going to calm down. "Want more weight?" I taunted him, attempting to keep my mind somewhat focused.

"Sure, rack up another ninety, would ya?" he grinned up at me. And then, just because he's apparently far nastier than I got to know during our short time of clandestine meetings at my hotel when I was visiting those years ago, Daniels reached down, worked his junk around in his jock strap in a way that flashed me a big ball and part of his shaft as he took his time getting it all rearranged. I was shoving the second plate on when he did it, and good thing I'd gotten it on the bar before, because I couldn't take my eyes off his crotch, as he'd intended. When he was done, he gave me a wink, which sort of broke my entranced gaze.

When Daniels growl-grunted and pushed that bar up to unlock the rack, his screwed up, straining grimace just made me KNOW I had to fuck him . . . hard, relentlessly, mercilessly - no other option. As I watched him strain and pump his muscles, his body tensing, rips and cords all to the extreme as he exerted himself, my mind went back to the hot time we'd had when we'd hooked up randomly on my visit to the base before.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When he'd stopped blasting - and man was it an impressive load, even after previously being drained! - I licked his head clean and stood up over him. Dan was spent on my bed, panting, sweating, looking fucking amazing as his muscles rippled with his heavy breathing. "Fuck dude," he gasped softly.

"That can be arranged," I joked with an evil grin.

Dan opened his eyes and looked up at me very seriously. "If you're offering . . . again," he said, tentatively.

I grinned, hiding my surprise, but inwardly thanking the gay sex gods for my good fortune. "How about we recharge some. Dinner? On me?"

Dan's grin was his answer. This was definitely the start of something . . .

We showered up, and, inevitably, two men, warm, streaming water, soaping each other, we jacked each other into an intense frenzy and each left another load down the shower drain. It was HOT and raw and just right, clutched to each other, each of us burying our faces in the other's neck/shoulder muscles and biting as we came, HARD, at each other's stroking.

We headed out on foot, and I figured he'd know somewhere for dinner, but he didn't really offer any suggestions, so we found a little place two blocks off the beach in Waikiki that smelled awesome but looked awful. "What do you think?" I asked. "Do you know this place?"

"Never been here. Let's try it," he said, and I realized that his responses to a couple of others could have meant he'd gone there . . . with his wife . . . ergo their lack of appeal. This dump likely had nobody who'd recognize another two jarheads in Waikiki looking for a cheap meal.

We found over dinner that we were bad at small talk. I knew I was - always had been - and having a disincentive to probe a married guy I'd just hooked up with about his personal life was strong. But he was just as bad, though he tried, I'll give him that.

Finally, I just looked at him and said, "Dan, how long do you have until you have to get home?"

He looked embarrassed, and I was instantly sorry I'd asked. "I, uh, should have been home a while ago, but I texted that I ran into some difficulty and would be home late."

I was even sorrier to have to push another military man to admit he'd lied. I didn't know he was a marine at that point yet, or it would have been worse; we didn't do that. "Hey, if I'm pushing you, don't hang on my account. Do what you have to do, and whenever you have to go, you'll go with my thanks!" I said, trying to make it better for him.

"Sorry," he said, head down.

And I was sorry I'd pushed it, said the wrong thing. I'd sort of lost my sense of boundaries as our playtime in my hotel room had progressed and he'd gone from being a random blowjob - me blowing him, relieving a married cock - to him blowing me, talking about fucking, showering with me, going to dinner with me . . . FUCK I'm an idiot! I know better than to push a random trick, particularly one I know is straight enough to have a wife, out of his comfort level.

"You see, I'm a marine, and I really HATE acting dishonorably," he said, breaking me out of my mental self-flagellation. "But I-" he started but didn't finish, just trailed off.

"Brother," I started, addressing him in a way that he'd understand. He did, too, because he looked up at me quickly, a question, but also a confirmation. "Nobody can tell you how to reconcile what you're feeling, what your needs are, against your sense of duty, so I'm not going to. But what I will say is that life is fucking short, and living a lie doesn't just hurt you, it hurts those around you, too. Thanks for a truly awesome interlude this afternoon, and I really enjoyed this dinner. But now, go back to your life."

"Wow," he said, looking at me, then dropping his head.


"Daniels. Corporal Michael Daniels. I'm guessing 'sir' should go at the end of that sentence, am I right?"

"Michael," I said, soothingly, "We've all been there, bud. Captain William James here, so yes, if we weren't at dinner, two guys enjoying each other's company, it would be 'sir' at the end there. But we are two guys enjoying each other's company. Two guys who have a lot in common." When his eyes widened and he looked up at me, I stopped him. "No, I'm not married. I was, but I'm not. So I get it. My marriage ended because I had to live the life I'd been given, not the one I'd fucked up for myself, for her, for my two sons."

"Did it end well? Was it easy to change your life?" he asked, more hopefully than rationally.

I laughed, ruefully. "No, neither. But if I hadn't done it I probably would have put myself in front of a bullet at some point. My honor is everything, Michael, as, I'm sure, as I can see from your eyes, is yours. I couldn't deceive my wife, I couldn't deceive myself, I couldn't live a lie, even though I'd created all of it. No, it didn't end well at all. But I was honest when I had to take the action, and have done as right by her and the boys as I have been able to since. And that's all I can do."

"Fuck!" he said, and I saw a tear slip out of his left eye. Not the first time I'd seen a marine cry; not even the first time I'd seen a marine cry over this topic, though usually it had been over a fallen brother, fortunately more often pleading for his survival than over his death. "I'm really fucking sorry!" he sniffed and wiped his face with his napkin.

"I'll give you one bit of advice beyond what I've said already, Michael, and then you're going home to your wife and kids if you have them."

"OH YEAH, I've got the whole deal," he said ruefully, though it was with obvious love and regret for hurting them, not regret for having them. How well I knew the feeling.

"Time has a way of ticking on . . . passing, deepening the furrows of the lies we've sown to others and to ourselves. Nobody can tell you when the time to write a wrong is, except to tell you that when you start hurting yourself because you can't stand the lies anymore or when you, worse, start hurting the people you're lying to, time passes faster, the hurt gets deeper and more frequent. Like I said, I knew that if I didn't handle my own situation I would, likely, have put myself into a position of being killed, either in combat or by my own hand. And that, Michael, is where you can never find yourself; or if you do, then you know it's the last chance for you to stop the cycle . . . for everyone . . . no matter how difficult being honest and coming clean then is."

I stood up after I said it, and I grabbed the bill to pay. It was the least I could do. He looked up at me pitifully, a shadow of the cocky, hot stud I'd fooled around with earlier. So like me, not all that long ago. "Thank you, Bill," he said quietly, holding my gaze. I knew it was several thank-you's in one, and I hoped it was for the advice I'd given him most of all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

" -- gonna tackle this weight?" he almost yelled, amped from completing his set, on his feet next to me, clapping me on the shoulder, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"FUCK NO!" I told him, pulling the plate off next to me. "I know my limits, and I almost pulled my quads AND groin matching you last set!" He was around the other side and pulled two plates off. "Hey!" I started, but he cut me off.

"NO WAY am I letting you pull your groin, Major! I've got plans that include your groin being fully functional," he told me with a wicked grin.

My cock didn't know if it was coming or going. Remembering that poignant ending to our dinner and sending him off to return to his real life had me - thankfully - soft again. Though the wet spot in my jock strap was apparently rather larger, certainly enough for me to notice! But his promise of our fun to come had my nuts pumping testosterone through me that wasn't directed toward my lifting of weights; it was lifting my cock again instead.

I WANTED Daniels. My entire body wanted him . . . except my head, which was conflicted. I did my set, easier than the last by the extra forty-five he'd pulled off, still gasping and grunting, though slightly less than before, but with my thoughts spinning . . . and getting absolutely nowhere.

I know when to push a straight or still-straight or not-quite-straight guy when it comes to man-on-man sex. I also know when not to push such a guy, particularly one I've shared "a moment of truth" with, a man I know is conflicted. Then again, he was the one hitting on me - HARD! So . . . what the fuck? I didn't the fuck know - that was the long and short of it. When in doubt . . .

"How much more to your workout, Michael?" I asked. "Obviously I am just starting."

"That was it for me. So . . . I can either . . . stay and spot you and push you but also make sure we keep that groin in working order, or, alternately, I can go and get a head start on getting myself all cleaned up and ready for you," he said, a seductive growl for that last part, eyes narrowed, with a hint of a grin.

"Well, we'll both have to shower."

"UH, YEAH, but I've got to make sure I'm CLEAN and, importantly, READY," he winked.

"OHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I finally said, the light going off above my head. So he really DID mean it about fucking, about . . . .

"Yeah, OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, like I'll likely be saying as you push into me," he said in a near whisper, his look wanton and full of intent. "I've fantasized about this since our last time, Major."

"First, would you STOP with the 'major', particularly if we're going to, uh,"

"Oh we're definitely going to UH!" he smirked.

I couldn't help but laugh. And I really DID want this. So I could either TAKE it as the gift that was being offered, or I could keep analyzing - over-analyzing - and wondering how bad this would fuck him up afterward. He WAS a brother; wasn't it my duty to give him the support he needed, even if it was at the expense of his AND my libidos?

FUCK NO YOU DON'T! My balls and cock made that absolutely clear to me, couldn't have been clearer if they could talk inside my head. YOU WILL FUCK THIS STUD! Well, choice made, in the way men had been making injudicious choices for millennia.

"Assuming my place," I said, knowing that he'd assume I had private quarters in the BOQ. "But I'm not in the BOQ. There was no room, so I'm in at a hotel . . . again . . . until the base quartermaster can get me settled either in on-base accommodations or a rental close-by. So I'm over at Turtle Bay."

"How about," he started, and his evil smirk had widened dramatically, "That is, IF you trust me, you give me your room number and key, and I'll be clean and READY and waiting when you get there? Just don't make me wait TOO long," he cautioned me with a wink. "I might have to press some room service stud into REAL 'service'" he clarified his caution.

I reached into my workout shorts where I'd stashed my key and handed it to him and gave him the room number. "It's going to be a short workout for me today, that much is certain!"

"Oh, no it's not, Major!" he corrected me, with his voice full of filthy intent, and he walked away without looking back.

DAMN! That ass, that narrow waist at the base of that impressive, muscular v-shaped torso, was FINE!

I watched too long, long enough to be self-conscious when I came back to where I was and looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching me. When I took a step I realized my cock was at full staff, again painfully contorted in my jock strap, likely the protruding beacon I felt it was for all the other service members in the gym to see.

I turned and forced my thoughts to my workout.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I got to my hotel room a bit under ninety minutes later, almost thirty of those being the drive back from the base, parking and getting another room key from the desk on my way in, the door was propped on the security lock so that I could walk in. I'd intended to take care of that detail, not making Daniels get up and come to the door, by getting the second key; obviously he'd thought of everything.

When I pushed open the door I considered mugging and calling, "Lucy, I'm hooooome!" but I didn't want to too-gay him, so I refrained. I just latched the door loudly enough to ensure he'd heard me enter.

The amazing, breathtaking view of the ocean was nothing compared to the view of Daniels, on my bed, stark naked, on all fours, beautiful bubble buttglobes out and ready, huge hanging balls swinging pendulously between his legs, huge, and I do mean HUGE horsecock hardon jutting out at an angle downward toward the bed from its sheer weight. HOLY FUCK, BATMAN!

As I stepped closer, I saw there was a paper stuck to his buttcheek by a glob of lube. "Well, that's a new one," I observed from behind him.

"Read it. Then FUCK ME!" he ordered without hesitation. I briefly considered instructing him on how an obedient bottom shows respect for a top, particularly an enlisted bottom bitch to a top officer . . . but I let that one pass, too. Maybe later . . .

I reached out and smacked his balls HARD and snatched the papers off his ass as he yelped. Lab results, with about twenty circles in pen around his HIV test. "You're gonna fucking seed me!" he told me, as if he knew right when I'd read the paper.

"I don't have my test results to show you, Michael. You should never-"

"Oh, STOP being such an . . . OFFICER for a minute, would ya, Major? I know enough to know that if you are PCS'd here to the CO's office you damn sure have a clean bill of health. I may be enlisted, not an officer, but we enlisted men are pretty fucking smart!" he said, almost bitterly.

I honestly couldn't tell where we were on the play versus serious spectrum here. He was absolutely right, and part of the condition of my being granted my request to be posted here, for the position I'd requested consideration for and had been conditionally granted, was a full physical, including an HIV test. And I was clean . . . as a whistle.

"Still thinking about it, Major?" he taunted me, wagging his ass at me, those heavy cuntanks swinging low.

I smacked his ass HARD - slapped it with about three-quarters force - and then, when his loud cry ended, rubbed the reddened outline of my big hand. He pushed his ass into my hand, obviously enjoying the touch, gyrating, moving so my fingers were over his crack, obviously intending to get on with things. So I did. I SMACKED his other buttcheek, this time harder even than the last, this time eliciting a, "Jesus fuck!" from him when I did.

As I again rubbed the imprint of my hand, this time the other cheek, I said, softly, "No, it's not Jesus who'll be fucking you this afternoon; it's a big-cocked marine who'll be making you his BITCH!" I spat the last word out involuntarily, unable to control myself as I was getting into it.

I still stood there, in my clothes, my sweat-soaked gym clothes in a ball under my arm. I reached out and swiped my hand over the widely-flared purple head of his veiny, rock-hard cock, and got a near-handful of his precum. "NICE!" I said, and I promptly brought it to his crack and swiped it over his pucker.

"Mmmmmmmm, yeah," he gasped as my finger pushed inside him, roughly, but greased by his own lube. "OH YEAH!" he moaned as my long middle finger twisted around in him, pushed further in. When I pushed his prostate with my fingertip, even though it was the most gentle touch, he shouted, "FUCK YES!" and bucked back onto my finger hard.

I decided I didn't want my first day posted at MCBH to include the hotel where officers awaiting quarters were temporarily housed to make a report of loud mansex disturbance. I fumbled with one hand and got my stinking jock strap and shoved it in his face. "Open up. You're going to keep this in your mouth, and if you think of making noise like that again, bite this and shout into it."

"SHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRR LEEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHH SHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRR!" he shouted, my jock strap in his mouth already. I easily figured that was SIR, YES SIR! in jockstrap-stuffed-mouth speak. Then he added, "Fruchin haaaahhhh," which I wasn't quite sure about except that I knew he was enjoying my ripe two week old jock strap in his mouth.

I swiped another even bigger glob of precum off his cockhead and went back to work lubing him, teasing him, working his pleasure button, his O-spot, as I stripped off my clothes and eventually positioned myself on my knees behind Daniels' inviting, hair-covered ass, between his knees. I grabbed my raging bone and gently rubbed my precum-slimed head against his hairless pucker, enjoying the glisten of my precum on the fur surrounding it.

"THUTHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FRUCHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHEEEEEEEEEE!" he snarled, and as he did he bucked back against my cockhead, and I knew then he'd said JUST FUCK ME!

I smacked his ass HARD, eliciting a muffled shout around my saliva-soaked jock strap in his mouth, and said, "WHOA, MARINE! This ain't no training cock, and you've nothing to prove here, stud. So we're going to take it nice and easy and make sure your beautiful fuckhole isn't wrecked by your courage."

Daniels had other ideas, clearly. As he was saying, "FFRUCHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGSHAAAAAAAA!" which I vaguely realized was FUCK THAT! he had reached back, taken hold of my hips in an iron grip and pulled me into him as he pushed back HARD, causing my huge fuckpole to first bow from the pressure and then POP as it went into him. All the while he was shouting through clenched teeth around a mouthful of jock strap, "NNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAA!" When it went inside him I felt his body spasm with the pain, and the shout renewed with just "GGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" which I'd come to recognize as FUCK!

"GODDDDDAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!" I shouted as well from the tight heat of his fuckchute, gripping my cockhead like a vise. "SHIT, DANIELS!" I shouted, but that's all I got out that was intelligible.

Daniels SHOVED himself back into me, still gripping my hips with that amazing backward reach, until my plum-sized head slammed into his prostate. "GRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" came with that, but he kept shoving himself back, my cock forced his channel wider, passed the obstacle, and I felt my groin against his hairy ass.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK JESUS, MARINE!" I shouted, but again, any further intelligible speech was cut off when he pulled halfway off him, shouting LOUD when my flared cockhead scraped past that pleasure knob again, and then immediately reversed and PULLED and SHOVED his way back again until he SLAMMED his ass into my groin again.

Well, I'm only human, and as much as I wanted to save his ass, as much as his muffled screams I knew were a matter of challenge and desire with him but they'd be pain and possible damage after the fact, I couldn't stop my inner beast from assuming control. I took firm hold with one hand of his hip and the other I clamped out over his shoulder and began POUNDING that hole HARD and DEEP.

"FFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!" or something like that came from him as we hit rhythm together, him slamming back onto me as hard as I was slamming into him. And if I'd had any inner conflict, any struggle to regain control and to spare his cunt from obliteration, that scream of struggling pleasured affirmation put it outside any actionable area of my consciousness.

I slam-fucked Daniels HARD, long-dicking him, pulling out until he yelped from my impossibly-flared head spreading his hole and almost coming out, then DRIVING back into him mercilessly, adjusting my angle to keep up the direct hits on his prostate with each thrust. And in turn, his body shuddered, his cries went LOUD, with every hit, both in and out.

To his credit, he fucked back as well as any power bottom I'd ever had. He pulled against my out-stroke and then SHOVED back into my THRUST and SLAMMED his ass into my groin and GROUND himself onto the last millimeter of my fuckrod with a greediness I rarely was able to find. Most bottoms struggled just to survive my "impossibly thick" or "OH MY FUCKING GOD" sized fuckpole regardless the level of their desire.

Then again, I didn't usually fuck marines, for obvious reasons. An officer's conduct, and all that. Air Force, Army in a pinch, Navy if desperate, but rarely a marine. When Daniels and I hooked up on my prior visit to the island I hadn't had any inkling he was a marine until we were far beyond any turning point. We were also nowhere near base, the other side of the island, in a public hotel, neither of us on duty.

My big, swinging, bull balls were aching from the impact with his - that was how hard we were fucking each other. And we WERE fucking EACH OTHER - that was certain! As that thought passed through my head, it apparently went to my aching nuts and from there to my hips, which began pistoning into Daniels' mancunt harder and faster, jackhammering that prostate, causing a steady stream of jock-strap-muffled cries until finally I felt his body tense and begin to shudder and knew I was going to fuck his load out of him.

Any other newbie I would have eased off but maintained enough thrust pressure to push him into and through what is always a wildly explosive climax the first time a man fucks one out of you. But Daniels was allowing no mercies, so instead I growled loudly and redoubled my fucking and pummeled that prostate with my marauding cockhead and reamed that hole fast and hard as he came.

"GGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" he shouted as his body convulsed so hard as he blew that my cock was being wrenched from the grip his fuckhole had on it and the way his body flailed. I was almost worried he'd wrench it - that's how forceful his writhing and spasming was.

I decided to show him what it was like for a bottom to be forced into a continuing orgasm, something many men never knew they could experience until a top worked them right while they were coming. I went back to long-dicking, angled slightly differently, applied continuous pressure to that prostate as I rubbed in and out, never far enough out to knock it, but maintaining a constant friction and vibration.

Daniels was so wildly spasming and crying out, the jock strap was doing little to avoid possible intervention by hotel security. In addition, he was pounding the headboard over and over with his one fist - the other was holding on for dear life - and his head as he rode the waves of the prolonged climax.

I was so fucking turned on by it that the diminished force but increased drag and pressure on my own cock had me to near-blast unexpectedly. My nuts took over - again! - and I began thrusting into him like a madman, nailing that prostate, him screaming, me continuously shouting, "OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK," over and over again as my nuts went to boil and then explosion.

I felt the familiar spark and ingnition, felt the sparks multiply and magnify through the extents of my body, felt the force of my convulsions, starting from my sac, and felt my entire body just plain explode in pleasured release as my seed began to be expelled like a nuclear blast into him. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" I heard myself shouting, long and loud . . . and had no control as my body continued to blast hard and fast, feeling my seed spew and spurt out the length of me to deep inside Daniels' cunt.

"OH FUCKING SWEET JESUS!" I shouted when I could again make words, panting, gasping actually for breath, my body still feeling like I had about a thousand electrodes attached to every part of me, particularly my long fuckrod, still buried in his cum-slimed ass.

Daniels had slumped, his upper body fully and heavily on the bed pillows, his backside only held up because he was impaled on my fuckweapon.

"Goddamn, major!" he rasped into the pillows, his face buried, and I knew he'd spit out my jock strap.

I was too spent to even take exception to the inappropriateness of the form of address given the circumstances, and I slumped onto his sweaty back and, very uncharacteristically for me, nuzzled the back of his neck with my face. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," he moaned as I did it, and he pushed back gently.

"You thought that was the hard part," I panted into his neck, and without further explanation, I FORCED my hips back and pulled my still-hard, long cockshaft out of him, feeling his pucker pop as my head forced it open further and cleared it.

"HOLYFUCKINGCHRISTGODDAMNITSHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!" he shouted, but I had him firmly held by my body covering his, only having moved back the nine or ten inches I had to for my cock to clear him, so he couldn't buck up hard, like his body wanted to.

"I got you!" I said, wrapping my arms around his sweaty, hairy pecs and abs. He collapsed down, and I went right on top of him, with a loud grunt from both of us. Then we laughed a little, and finally I got uncomfortable with the way we were so intimately arranged and rolled off and onto my back. "No fucking way that was your first time! Who's been training you since I met you?" I asked, partially because I really was curious, having made the assumption that he hadn't gotten fucked and then realizing both from his actions and just by reason that he likely hadn't been suppressing and repressing his man-on-man desires since we'd been together those years before.

"You fucking asshole!" he exclaimed, but not with venom, though there was a little hurt there.

"What the fuck?" I replied and turned onto my side to face him.

Daniels had turned onto his back as he'd shouted at me, and it looked like he was struggling for words. And then I knew. I really WAS his first. OH HOLY SHIT - this was fucking bad . . . and complicated!

My cock hadn't cared about that in the least when I thought he hadn't been fucked when I finished my workout and had to force my thoughts away from his virgin ass lest I embarrass myself more than I already had in the gym. No, I hadn't given any thoughts to the consequences, the inevitable over-bonding, the unavoidably inflated sense of attraction and illusion of love a new bottom has for his first top . . . and all that is bad enough with a single gay civilian man - magnify it about a thousand times each for a married man and another service man . . . and an enlisted man at that! HOLY MESSY FUTURE, BATMAN!

Okay, okay. At least he had to go home to his wife and would have that to occupy himself, and I could make myself unavailable for a while as I got into my new posting, keep clear of him, let his ardor simmer but take a back seat to the drama of his home life, of figuring out his life, of dealing with his life . . . if he decided to deal with it . . . and hopefully by then I'd have faded in his mind, him having hooked up randomly in the meantime to take the edge off or after a fight with his wife over something she had no fucking clue was going on for him, just that he was testy, distant and combative . . .

"Did you hear what I said?"

I heard Daniels' voice, and I realized I hadn't heard what he said before. SHIT! My mind was racing, but I forced myself to get myself together. "No, sorry, Michael. I guess I'm still getting myself together after that amazing fuck. YOU were amazing," I added, hoping to deflect where he might be going.

Daniels laughed - not heartily but it was a chuckle, not rueful at all, so I was probably not too bad off for not having been listening. "Thanks for that, Bill. I've been watching a lot of porn and hoping I could not be too clumsy when I finally was able to . . . " He trailed off, but he turned his gaze to me - serious, but a bit of happiness there.

"Well, whatever you were watching was damn better than any porn I ever saw. FUCK, Michael, it was better than most of the fucking I've ever had in my fucking life!" I told him honestly, and I instantly regretted my enthusiastic praise - I was trying to tamp down the virgin-effect, not fan his attraction.

"Thanks, but believe me, however generous you are in your praise, Bill - because I know you're a GOOD guy!" at which point I started holding my breath I think, knowing I'd played a card very wrong, "-I know I've got a lot to learn about mansex. I'll tell you what, though. None of those actors on the porn came anywhere near close in the way they showed how incredible it feels, though. GODDAMN that's amazing!" he exclaimed.

I might have been turning blue, because at that point he reached out and gently shook my shoulder a bit. "You okay, bud?" he asked, his eyes suddenly full of concern.

"Oh, sorry," I sputtered through a loud intake of breath. "I was just trying to make sure I paid attention to what you were saying, and I guess where I was trying to get myself back down to earth before and get my breathing back to normal and didn't hear you this time I went overboard the other way." Okay, that was majorly lame, even for an inarticulate jarhead!

"I'd really hate to have to explain your death like that to the colonel!" he joked. "Particularly after the last aide he had," he added, cryptically.

"Yeah," I said, suddenly very interested, "About that. You made a reference at the gym and wouldn't tell me what the fuck you were talking about. Spill it, mister!"

"Oh, that," he laughed. "I was just giving you shit, Bill, at the gym, I mean. Honestly I was a bit surprised - really HAPPY surprised - but surprised when I saw you, and I got kind of nervous, so I was just giving you some shit."

"And?" I prompted him to continue.

"Oh, and, well, the moment I saw you I knew I wanted what I'd left on the table last time. I knew I wanted you to be the man who fucked me the first time, wanted to experience that with you. So I-"

"Not that 'and', ya dork!" I admonished him, taking the opportunity to steer away from that other subject . . . again! "And . . . what about the CO's last aide?"

"OH, THAT!" Daniels said with a laugh. "Well, that's really not a big story. Colonel Gibson," and with that he started to snicker again.

"GET IT TOGETHER, MARINE!" I ordered, annoyed and reflexively commanding him.

"Oh, Major! I love it when you get forceful!" he mugged.

"All right, all right," I chuckled. "Just tell me about Colonel Gibson."

"Well, like I said, it wasn't really much, but it was . . . fucking funny!" he burst out laughing as he spat out the last. I just waited this time, my annoyed look intensifying across the pillow from him. "Okay, okay, just give me a minute," he huffed, trying to control his breathing . . . and his laughing. "So the CO is sort of obsessed with his wife. She's younger and very beautiful - not a trophy wife or anything, just very attractive - way too fucking hot for him, that's for sure - and about ten years younger, around forty. So the CO is very jealous and suspicious, and he gets it in his head that Colonel Gibson and Mrs. Mellor are fooling around because Gibson is always there doing stuff for Mrs. Mellor at their house off base. Now really this is the CO's fault, because any aide of his has to basically take care of anything and everything for him - fuck, I wouldn't put it past him having you blow him sometime if his wife isn't putting out!" Daniels said, and not with any hint of humor.

I was wondering, from this enlisted point of view, and how over-informed it seemed to be, just what kind of show Colonel Mellor was running. I'd asked him in our phone call - the formality to him accepting my PCS and positing as his aide - about the former aide, the lieutenant colonel's, departure, but he'd said it was routine, and left no room for presumption on my part to push for more.

"So anyway, finally the CO one day KNOWS his wife is not answering the phone and Gibson is at the house doing SOMEthing, so the CO cancels a couple of meetings and sneaks into Kaneohe in a base vehicle, not his own, climbs the back fence to his property, intending to catch Mrs. Mellor and Gibson doing whatever the fuck he thought they were doing." He paused, and I motioned him to get on. "Well," Daniels continued with an exaggerated look of surprise, MISSUS Mellor wasn't at home." I waited, now into the story and wanting to know what then caused Gibson's quick departure. "BUT . . . Are you ready for this? Mellor's twenty-year-old stud of a son WAS home . . . and apparently Colonel Mellor had TWO bits of revelation that afternoon!"

"OH!" I exclaimed in surprise. "You mean-"

"OH YEAH! You know how you fucked me just a while ago? Well it seems that the Mellor boy knows how to ride cock like a rodeo cowboy and was whooping and hollering and riding the bucking Gibson bronco!"

"Oh, ooooops!"

"Yeah, exactly. Not only is your wife NOT fucking your aide, but your aide IS fucking the scion of your loins you thought was such a stud. And he IS, but oh, right, he likes to take cock up his ass . . . apparently really REALLY likes it!"

"Fuck! And here I am, another faggot to darken his doorstep!" I said, thinking only of the likely disastrous end to my career.

I realized, sort of in delayed time, that Daniels had reacted to the word I'd used. He was looking at me almost like a man looking at a man who'd just punched him for no reason. "Hey, I was being funny. WE gay men can do that and not mean anything bad by it," I told him.

"It's harsh, Bill. You're a good man, and you shouldn't degrade yourself or any other good gay man that way. Really." He was serious as a heart attack.

"Um, okay, Michael, I apologize. But just for the record, AS a gay man, I CAN say that and not mean it to offend anyone or to degrade myself," I told him, carefully maintaining my contrition despite my firm believe that it wasn't for him, particularly as a so-called-straight man to admonish me for a gay man's manner of expression.

He moved over closer, and he put his hand on my cheek. "Bill, I get what you're saying, but hear what I'm saying, okay?" he said, his eyes boring into mine imploringly. "As ANOTHER gay man, as a man who has finally come to the awareness of who and what he is, as a man who now knows he's just as much a man as anyone straight or gay but just happens to BE gay, as a man who FACED the wreck of his life and came out and got through it, it degrades ME when you use that hateful term, that term that intolerant bigots use to demean ME and my gay brothers. So, please reconsider how cavalier you are about a term that you feel entitled to use, because that term has powers far beyond your intent."

"Wow," I articulated unintentionally, though it was all I had in my brain. WOW all of it, but particularly WOW that he'd come out. "I apologize again; and this time I will add that I appreciate what you've said."

He was still gazing at me very seriously, very closely. "Thank you," he said softly. "For me, but also for you, Bill," he added. And then he looked down at my lips and back to my eyes and down to my lips again.

I didn't kiss men. I NEVER kissed. Yet I found myself moving my lips tentatively toward his, enough to give him the go if he really meant that, though there was no mistaking his desire. And when his lips very gently touched mine, and we kissed, just that gently, full of meaning and connection but without male fury of desire, it rocked me.

"Thank you," he said breathily as we parted, and then he caressed my face and rubbed his hand lovingly back over my stubbly hair. "You are a good man, Major William James. And I'm proud to enjoy your attention, if only for this time, again, maybe not for another three years."

He lay back, smiling broadly, still looking directly into my eyes. I relaxed into the pillow because he had, and I held his gaze. "Remember that dinner we had?"

"It changed my life, Bill. You gave me the courage to face my dishonor and to take steps to right my wrongs. Yes, I'll never forget that dinner or that day for that matter. I'll never forget how heartfelt and generous your words to me that night were."

I was overwhelmed and embarrassed. "What I meant was," I said, deflecting in a way I am so very good at when people's emotions are shared with me, and I'm unworthy of them, certainly unequipped to share them with the care they deserve and warrant, "We went to have dinner intending to go back to my hotel and fuck our brains out."

And to prove again that he was no dumb jarhead enlisted man, Daniels finished for me. "Would you have dinner with me tonight, Bill? And to be clear, I am a single gay man now, and I have nowhere I have to be if you want to be with me like I want to be with you, hopefully to wake up in each other's arms to the sound of the surf."




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