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I hope you enjoy this story, which concerns the sexual awakening and development of Jody through his college years and early career in the Navy. To add realism to the story, much of the story is set in real cities, college campuses, Naval bases, and places of business. No implication that these places are accepting of homosexuality is implied. Should you visit any of them, please maintain normal caution and do not assume you will be accepted.
This story is set in the late 1960's and early 1970's, before the AIDS crisis began. Therefore, it is strictly condom-free. However, please note that neither the author nor Nifty.org is encouraging men of the 21st century to ignore the consequences of unprotected sex. Please love yourself and your future partners enough to be careful!
Thanks to those who have taken the time to send me feedback about the story. I've never received "fan mail" before, so this is very exciting! Just so you know, this story has 16 chapters, so please keep reading and feel free to send me your feedback or comments.
This story is the backstory of a character who will be included in a book to be published in the Fall, 2018, titled The Deputy Boys Book 1: Gary's Senior Year. Jody's story is entirely separate from this book, although he is a character in that book. Without further ado, enjoy Jody, the Team, and the Navy! Kenneth Kirk
Jody, the Team, and the Navy Chapter 8
Norfolk Naval Base was my home beginning on Tuesday, January 21, 1975. I registered at the BOQ the night before and found my room on the second floor near the west end. From the window I had a view of ships at dock about a quarter of a mile away. I was treated quite civilly as I took care of a bit of paperwork to get my room assignment and obtained the information about what I was scheduled for the next day. A couple of the guys who lived on my wing stopped by to meet me and take me to the mess hall for dinner. They were ensigns, like me, who had been here a few months, but long enough to know a lot more than I did. While they were polite, I didn't feel a particular connection with either of them. I got unpacked and wrote a short note to Mom and Dad before getting acquainted with my bunk.
I was up at 0600 to prepare to go to chow and then my first appointment, at 0800 in Personnel. I found the main entrance for the department a few minutes before 0800, but the door was not unlocked until 0802, when a rather plain WAVE unlocked the door and invited me in. I entered a small lobby where a counter crossed one side. "Good morning, ensign," an older WAVE said. She was a lieutenant, so I saluted. She returned the salute, took my name, and had me sit down. I sat quietly in the lobby as other personnel entered, spoke with the officer at the counter and either went back into the main part of the department or left. Another ensign, dressed in uniform, sat down for a few minutes but was called back while I continued to sit there.
After half an hour or so, the lieutenant called my name, so I went back to the counter. As I approached her, a tall, handsome lieutenant came into the area behind the counter. The female officer said, "Ensign, this is LTJG Krakowsky, who will be with you most of the day as you go through the system here."
I saluted the handsome man, whose smile disarmed me. He returned my salute and motioned to my right. "This way, ensign," he said in a deep voice as he opened a sort of gate at the end of the counter and I walked through. "Follow me," he said quietly. I felt myself responding to his aura of manliness even as I tried to ignore it. Quickly he turned into a doorway, which put us in a small room with a table in the center and chairs on opposite sides. "You may sit down," he said as he pulled one of the chairs out for himself. I took the opposite chair, feeling intimidated by the "interrogation room" feeling of the place.
When we were seated, LTJG Krakowsky seemed to relax and become more human. His medium brown eyes looked across into my blues and he smiled broadly. I felt a twitch in my groin. No! I screamed to myself. I must have looked strange because the lieutenant's smile morphed into a sort of frown.
"Don't be intimidated by the room," he said quickly, then smiled again. "I'm not going to interrogate you."
"Thank God!"
He chuckled. "I keep telling them this isn't the best room to welcome our new personnel." After that, he discussed all kinds of details with me about uniforms, what my benefits were, when I needed to report for duty or other required activities, and more. With large hands that made me wonder how big his dick might be, he handed me a few documents to sign and told me that I was going to report to the Budget Department the next day at 0800 to begin working. I was not completely successful at ignoring my attraction for this handsome, sexy, and kind man. He asked about my hometown and college experience and was particularly interested in the fact that I had played baseball at UNC. He informed me there's an intramural baseball league on base I might like to get involved in. When I said I'd like that, he wrote down the name CDR Miller and his phone number for me. He also recommended I get over to the base gym asap to meet LTCDR Rodriguez, whose name and number he also wrote down.
At 1000, he took me to the mess hall for a cup of coffee and a cigarette. I'd only smoked a couple of times but didn't want to be rude, so I took the one he offered. He shared that he was from Providence, Rhode Island, so we talked briefly about Newport. He'd gotten a bachelor's degree in business administration two years before me so was familiar with finance. He told me he also lived at the BOQ but was about to move into an off-base apartment with a friend.
We got my uniforms and he helped me cart them back to the BOQ, showing me his room on the third floor while we were there. We had lunch at the mess hall and talked more about life in the Navy. I felt a little less freaked about being in this organization after hearing his opinion. He mentioned that you need to keep your private life private which made me curious about his private life. He'd served two years at Pearl Harbor in support of the troops in the Pacific and had just arrived in Norfolk a few months back.
By the time we left the mess hall after lunch, I was completely infatuated with the attractive lieutenant. He took me by the Budget Department, where I met my supervisor CDR Anderson, a by-the-books type who impressed me as being very detail oriented and not very personable. I was shown my desk and met LTCDR Stockton, who would be my lead and work with me closely at first. He was quite nice and also an attractive guy. I was a bit concerned about working closely with him every day, but decided I had no choice but to learn how to ignore his attractiveness. He told me to relax this evening and be back at 0800 in the morning. On the way out, I was given an office key and a desk key by the secretary, a perky civilian with flowing brown hair who went by Fiona.
As we went outside, LTJG Krakowsky leaned close and put a hand on my shoulder, making me shudder from repressed desire. "You need to be careful with her and other young women on base. A handsome guy like you with a good career in the Navy is considered quite a catch, so the girls can be a bit aggressive."
He called me handsome! Calm down, Jody! Do not lean into him!
"Don't worry about me. I'm very careful with girls." If you only knew, I thought.
He squeezed my shoulder and said, "That's great!"
He walked me to the base hospital where he deposited me in a waiting room behind a door marked "Induction." He told me I had an appointment in a few minutes for simple tests and an exam.
"That's it for me, ensign," he concluded. "I've enjoyed meeting you and hanging out today. Any time you need a friend, knock on my door."
"Thanks, lieutenant. You've been very helpful today."
"Stop by before dinner soon. We'll have a bite and check on your progress."
"I will!" I promised. We shook hands, then saluted, and he departed. It was twenty minutes before my cock had returned to its flaccid state.
Luckily I was flaccid when escorted into an examination room for a routine physical which include the "drop `em and cough" command every guy detests. I was grateful the physician was an old civilian who could have been my grandfather and who carried about 100 pounds more than his ideal weight. So, he was able to handle my goods without causing one bit of tingle in my balls. There was a bit of a tingle, however, when a cute redheaded nurse named LT Harry McGraff rubbed my elbow and held my wrist while drawing what seemed like a pint of blood. The prick of the needle was an effective restraint to my own special prick, let me tell you!
An hour and a half later, I was done at the hospital and walking back to the BOQ when I heard someone call out, "Ensign DiFranco!"
I turned to see LTJG Krakowski hurrying up behind me, a big smile on his gorgeous face. "Lieutenant!" I cried out, my enthusiasm boiling over a little too much in my voice.
I saluted as did he. When he was standing beside me, he asked if I was going home.
I laughed and said, "Such as it is!"
He laughed, too. "My sentiments exactly. Walk with me."
Side by side, we strolled down a wide walkway leading to the BOQ, my cock itching in my skivvies and my heartbeat a little faster than before. He pointed out some of the buildings along our way and talked a little more about his time in Hawaii. As we were coming up to the BOQ entrance, he said, "Why don't you come by my room about 5:45 and we'll go to chow together? I'll introduce you to a couple of my friends. Okay?"
"Let me check my social calendar and see if I'm free," I grinned.
"Uh-oh, has that tart Fiona gotten her claws into you already?"
We both laughed. "Not today," I said, "but I expect her to go after me hard tomorrow."
"Perhaps you should stop by my room in the morning, so we can fit you with a chastity belt before you report for duty!"
We both laughed harder, although I wondered if he often went around suggesting that he get guys fitted for a chastity belt.
"Aye, aye, sir!" I said with a salute. "I'll follow your orders, Sir!"
My beautiful, hunky companion giggled and murmured softly, "Ummm. That's certainly good to know!"
We walked up a couple of steps and entered the lobby of the BOQ. We took the stairs and, with a quick "See you later!" I went into the second-floor corridor while he went up to the third floor.
A couple of hours later, I tapped on Krakowsky's door as instructed. He seemed very happy to see me. When I snapped off a salute, he returned it, but noted it wasn't necessary in such a casual situation. He invited me in and offered me a beer before dinner. When I hesitated, he grinned and said, "The proper response to an invitation from your first friend on base is `Of course, Sir!'"
I grinned. "Of course, LT Krakowsky, Sir!"
He laughed and opened the mini-fridge to pull out two Buds. We chatted about music – he loved the Eagles, the Supremes, the Righteous Brothers, England Dan & John Ford Coley, Dusty Springfield, and Hall and Oates. My favorites were the Doobie Brothers, the Bee Gees, the Carpenters, Olivia Newton-John, America, and Earth, Wind, and Fire. Though we had different favorites, we found we generally liked each other's list, too. He asked me more about my baseball career. I didn't mention our motivational point system but talked about being a walk-on and getting a scholarship mostly for my batting skills.
"Oh, Vern will love you!" he exclaimed.
"Vern?"
"Oh, that's Commander Miller. He's a detective in the Military Police on base but is also the coach of one of the baseball teams. It's our premier team that usually beats all the others. A good hitter is a real asset, right?"
"Well, you can't win a game without some scoring," I said.
"Well spoken! We'll get you hooked up with the commander real soon. I think their first games are just a week or two away."
"Probably," I agreed. "Can I ask a question?"
"Sure."
"You just called the commander by his first name. Do you call him that directly, I mean, to his face?"
Krakowsky looked as if I'd caught him in a big faux pas. "Yes, but I need to explain. CDR Miller and I have several friends in common, so we've partied together several times. We've been on a couple of weekend pleasure cruises with a dozen guys. When you know a superior officer really well from off-base and become friends, he may give you permission to dispense with the formalities. But we all know that is only in very friendly situations when others are not present. On that basis, I goofed when I referred to him as Vern in front of you. Make sense?"
"Oh, yeah," I said. "So, I can't refer to you by your given name, which I don't think I know anyhow, unless you tell me I can, right?"
He laughed heartily. "Technically, I am your superior officer, but the difference here is pretty little. Anyhow, yes, in principle, that's how it works."
"Okay, lieutenant."
"Brandon," he said.
"Sir?" I knew what he was doing but wanted to make him be explicit.
"That's my name and, unless you come back to Personnel, you can always call me that because we are now drinking buddies and personal friends."
I smiled. "I'm very glad to hear that. Brandon."
He stood and moved toward me, so I stood, too. He took the empty bottle from my hand and set both bottles on the counter. "Let's go get some good ole Navy grub."
Brandon steered us to a 4-top table with two guys already seated there. As we put down our trays, I started to salute, but Brandon pulled my hand down by placing his on my forearm. For several seconds he held my arm down at my side while he introduced me. Both guys stopped eating to look up at me as Brandon talked. They smiled and said they were glad to meet me. Next, Brandon introduced the guy on the right as "Lieutenant Gordon Heron, better known as Blade." Blade extended his hand and we shook as Brandon said, "We call him Blade because he's the best fencer on base, so don't get in front of him when he is wielding his sword!"
That could have two meanings, I thought. My one-track mind immediately reminded me I might like to be in front of him when he is wielding his big sword!
The guy on the right was an exotic-looking man with tawny eyes, wavy black hair, coarse features, and skin that was a medium brown with some reddish undertones coming through. "This is Lieutenant Scott Jefferson," Brandon said. Scott grasped my hand and shook energetically. His hand was so large it almost swallowed up my hand. Big black cock, I thought as my own cock twitched.
Over dinner I learned that Blade was a Civil Engineer in the Facilities Department, originally from Scottsdale, Arizona, was an alumnus of the University of Arizona, and was going to be sharing an apartment with Brandon at the beginning of March. Scott turned out to be a fellow Carolinian, having grown up on the Cherokee reservation only 15 or 20 miles from Sylva. He'd gotten a BS in Criminal Justice from the University of Tennessee and was an MP on base.
"Do you know CDR Miller?" I asked.
"Sure. I work with him."
"Oh, great. I need to speak to him."
Scott looked surprised. "Oh?"
"Are you already in trouble?" Blade asked with a chuckle.
"No," Brandon said.
"No," I said. "I want to see about getting onto his baseball team."
"Awesome!" Scott smiled and showed me his straight white teeth. "I'm an outfielder on his team. What position?"
"My position in college was shortstop, but I would love to be the designated hitter, if we are using them in base intramurals yet."
"Hmm," Scott thought for a moment. "We haven't had a designated hitter, but I'm not sure we couldn't. It'll be interesting to see if the intramural committee would allow it. Anyhow, it'd be great to have you on the team. We practice Monday and Thursday from 1630 to 1830 at the diamond behind the gym. Just be there on Thursday."
I was very happy to hear about that. Perhaps the Navy would be an okay life, after all.
The next day I began to acclimate to my duties in the Budget Department, finding LTCDR Stockton to be a considerate and helpful supervisor. He showed me around, showed me the Navy manuals (a whole row of them), and gave me the files for the departments whose budget I would be responsible to develop and maintain. Stockton had dirty blonde hair, a receding hairline, and a killer cleft chin that made him a little more cute than handsome, but his piercing blue eyes drilled into mine as he instructed me on the situations I needed to be aware of. I got distracted from the information he was giving me a few times as I felt a flutter in my tummy or a jiggle in my scrotum. Down, boy!
I was assigned three departments: Warehousing, Recreation, and Personnel. I thought there might be a few perks related to Recreation so was pleased with that assignment. It might give me a good "in" when I met the sexy-sounding LTCDR Rodriguez, who ran the base gym. Having Personnel's budget might lead to more interactions with my number one friend, Brandon, so that was awesome. I was more neutral about Warehousing until I envisioned a whole crew of buffed hunks throwing heavy boxes around. When one of the boxes transmogrified into me, I wondered if I could actually get through a tour of duty without doing something to give my secret desires away. I shook my head and went back to reading about Personnel.
I explained to Stockton that I was going to join the baseball team and he asked when they practice. I told him and he suggested I make Fiona aware of my schedule, but noted that under normal circumstances we knock off at 1600 hours anyway so it didn't interfere. When I talked with her later, Fiona batted her lovely brown eyes at me so much I thought I could feel a breeze. She smiled like she was auditioning for a Pepsodent commercial. And she touched my arm three times in a two-minute conversation. I thought Brandon had given me good advice about keeping a distance from this horny chick.
That afternoon I went to the gym, where I met LTCDR Rodriguez, who was a handsome Hispanic man about an inch shorter than me but with much bigger muscles. He showed me around leisurely, displaying his 19" biceps and thighs that looked as big as my waist as we walked through the facility. He noted that a lot of personnel would take time off during the day for a workout so they could avoid early morning and evening peak use times. "Just clear it with your CO and you're fine." Several times as we walked through the facility, I got distracted by his meaty ass or the bulge in his gym shorts or his sexy smile. Once again, I questioned if I would be able to keep my attractions under wraps as I knew I must.
Thursday, I raced to the gym to change into my baseball workout clothes for my first practice session. Scott was already on the field when I approached the area where six or eight guys were tossing balls or taking practice swings. He jogged over to meet me, extending his hand in a sort of lengthy handshake. "Great to see you again, Jody," he said with a big smile. "Let me introduce you to the commander," he added, putting his hand on my arm and guiding me to a very strong-looking man a couple of inches taller than me and eight or ten years older. "Commander Vern Miller," Scott said in an authoritative, masculine voice. Body hair was prevalent on his arms and torso, even showing a bit on his neck at the collar to his shirt. His feet, hands, and nose were bigger than most, so I had that pesky question in my mind: Is his cock big, too? As we talked briefly, I could tell he was checking me out and I wondered if he was interested in my body as any coach would be or as Coach Stan had been. I met several other guys who seemed polite and friendly, so the whole session was interesting and fun, too. In spite of being rusty, my performance was above par for the team, so I thought I had a shot at doing well during our season. When practice ended, Miller called me over to welcome me to the Destroyers.
After supper, Scott demanded that Brandon and Blade join us at the Officers' Club for celebratory drinks. Brandon said he was happy to come if the drinks were celebratory and not celibatory. I shook my head and couldn't stop myself from thinking it seemed Brandon never missed a chance for a sexual reference. Don't read anything into that! I thought. All guys think about sex every few seconds, not just gay ones.
After the first round of drinks, the guys were feeling quite relaxed, apparently, as the conversation became exceedingly dirty with lots of penis jokes, pussy jokes, and sex jokes. For half a round of beers, we discussed butt-chugging, which none of us had done, and only Blade had actually ever heard of before. Both Blade and Scott seemed intrigued by the idea of "rectal drinking", but it just sounded nutty to me. We did all agree it was not a suitable activity for the Officers' Club but might be interesting to try at a private party sometime. When I was back in my private room later that night, I beat off to the image of my three hunky friends with tubes up their asses as I emptied kegs of beer into their nether regions. I couldn't cum because I got to laughing too much. I calmed down and then used the memory of Len fucking me to finish the job. I'm beginning to wonder if I am irredeemably perverted.
Friday nights we usually spent at the Club, getting rather soused to celebrate the end of the work week. I had not done a lot of drinking in college, so I was learning everything I'd missed in Chapel Hill. After several hangovers, including one that involved some particularly nasty projectile vomiting, I decided to limit myself to four drinks in an evening. After much kidding around and eventually getting Brandon's endorsement, Scott and Blade agreed to help me stick to that limit.
For several weeks, my life marched forward with my days spent in budget work, my afternoons spent in baseball practice or working out at the gym, dinners at the mess hall with Brandon, Blade, and Scott. Sometimes others would join us and sometimes Scott would be on duty or one of the guys would make other plans. We had a couple of baseball games most weeks, too, and I really enjoyed being back on the diamond. We usually played on Wednesday evenings and Saturday afternoons. Quickly I became one of the top scorers on the team and after a few weeks I had the league's leading batting average, which no one ever overcame. A couple of weeks into the season, the intramurals committee decided we could have a designated hitter, so I became the base's first designated hitter. As league play progressed, our team rose in the rankings until we were the second-rated team on base, just behind the Jugheads, who were mostly from the Facilities Department.
At random times, I would catch Brandon intently watching me, but when I would say, "What?" he'd deny anything. I kept having this eerie feeling he was cruising me or, at least, checking me out. All three of my primary companions were constantly going on about sex, which kept me in a state of near arousal all the time and often in a mild panic that they might somehow figure out my secret.
At each baseball game or practice, Scott found some excuse to touch, rub, pinch, or fondle my ass. While, of course, I absolutely loved physical contact with this great stud, I was very nervous that he would figure out how much I liked it. Brandon had a habit of touching my abs, biceps, legs, or back in ways that were not out of bounds for contact between male friends but, taken together, seemed to be excessive, if not flirtatious. At the Club one Friday night, Scott asked if we would like to spend a weekend in DC to see the monuments. Everyone liked the idea, so we discussed possible weekends. Scott and I had an off weekend coming up in baseball, so we decided we'd best not miss that opportunity. Over the next week, Scott made a hotel reservation and a few other details were worked out.
I was excited about the weekend trip for several reasons. First, I'd never had the chance to hang out with my new buddies that much. I'd also never done any sight-seeing in DC, so I expected to enjoy whatever we actually did. Third, although I'd had a good bit of time off lately, I'd not had the chance to do anything very exciting since Len and I had gone to Myrtle Beach almost six months earlier. As much as I wanted to go, I was also quite anxious about being in that kind of unstructured environment that might not provide ample privacy. When I mentioned to Brandon that I might not go, he essentially said to shut up about it as they weren't taking no for an answer.
As a result, about 9:30 on Friday evening, the four of us checked into the Marriott Courtyard on Connecticut Avenue, not far from the Washington Zoo. We walked a few blocks to a sports bar, where we had the old American standby – burgers and beers – to carb up for our first night on the town. My companions seemed excited about the prospect of getting laid.
"Fucking is just so much better than jerking off," Blade suggested, to a round of laughter.
Scott turned to Brandon and dead-panned, "And I thought Blade was not the sharpest knife in the drawer!" Our laughter got louder.
"Hell," Brandon said, "there would be nothing better than your hard dick in a wet snatch if it wasn't for all the complications!"
"What complications?" Blade asked, a bit incredulously.
"Damn, Blade, you know. `I'm having my period,'" he whined. We giggled. "Will you respect me tomorrow? I have a headache? Do you love me?" Everyone laughed. "And, of course, the ever-present excuse: Oh, Brandon," he said in a falsetto, "it's so bi-i-ig!"
I laughed so hard at Brandon's effeminate look, action, and voice. Scoot howled while Blade almost choked on a swig of beer. It was hysterical.
When we had all calmed down a bit, Brandon said in his normal voice, "Seriously, wouldn't it be great if women were as comfortable with sex as guys?"
"You mean physically?" Blade asked.
"No. Emotionally, I guess."
"Yeah," Scott said, "if women just wanted to have sex that feels as good as possible for both people. Wouldn't that be cool?"
Brandon put his hand over Scott's, which seemed a bit queer to me. "Unfortunately, dude," Brandon smirked, "the only way to get that is to pay her!"
Blade howled in laughter and screamed, "Oh, shit!" Several people looked at our table and the waiter hurried over with our check.
"Say, dude," Brandon said to the waiter. "Where would you go to meet some, uh, available, women tonight?"
He recommended a club called Heaven on the Circle that was known to be a good pickup place and we were off. As we walked over, I reflected on the conversation we had just had, the one in which my three studly friends had seemingly agreed that sex with women was not entirely fulfilling. Soon we found the place and entered one of those nightclubs with plush couches scattered around, loud music, glamorous ladies, and expensive drinks. We had a quick round of beers that cost almost as much as our dinner had, soaked up the elegance and felt totally out of place. After one round, we decided to leave. As it was already almost midnight, there was some sense of urgency to find a good place to meet some ladies. Just between you and me, dear reader, I did not feel that urgency, but I put on a pretty good show, nevertheless.
The doorman recommended a "more casual" place a few blocks away, called something like the DuPont Saloon and Dance Palace. We were half drunk and feeling pretty excited as we trooped along searching for this place where the girls were rumored to be "hotter than Miami in August" according to the doorman. For nearly half an hour we walked around the area where it was supposed to be but couldn't find it. Our group buzz was starting to wear off and someone suggested the doorman had sent us on a wild-goose chase. When someone else suggested we go back and bust his chops, the rest of us vetoed that idea because we wanted to get on with the business of drinking and "hunting pussy."
Finally, in desperation, we went into a rather sedate-looking bar called the Club 501. I assumed that was the street address, but it wasn't. Maybe it had moved from a previous location and wanted to keep the old name?
As I pondered the nomenclature, we four hot studs from Nowheresville bellied up to the bar where a very hot guy wearing nothing but cut-off Levi's with the top button open stepped over and smiled broadly at us. "Hello, gentlemen!" he said with surprising enthusiasm. "How can I be of service?" His eyes scanned our faces with an intensity that immediately made me feel handsome, sexy, and, uh, exposed. My friends took no note and soon we each had a Dos Equis sitting in front of us, delivered with a direct, personal grin and a wink. Scott handed him a twenty and got a ten and two singles in return. There were several moments of silence as we turned to look around the establishment. Something besides the waiter's flirtatiousness was unusual about this place. I saw men of every type in groups of two or three or sitting alone. But there was only one female, a tall and rather big girl in a glittery ball gown standing at the other end of the bar.
"I only see one woman," I said quietly to Brandon.
"Look again, my naïve friend, and you will see there are no women here."
"Huh?" I looked again at the woman at the bar.
"Check out the hands," Brandon instructed.
The hands were unusually large and rather ugly, for a woman. The fingers were thick, hairy, and, well, grizzled, but the nails were half a mile long and brightly painted. When "she" turned to speak to the barkeep, an Adam's apple bounced up and down as words were spoken. It wasn't a woman after all. "Holy shit!"
"Uh-huh. I'm afraid we won't be picking up chicks here."
"I guess not," I said, anxiety rising like bile in my throat. "Are we in a ...?"
"Looks like it."
Fuck, what if we got caught? I set my beer down and tapped Brandon on the arm. "We'd better get out of here!"
He put his hand on my forearm. "Relax, dude. Drink your beer."
"But we're not allowed in a place like this," I protested.
Brandon chuckled. "No one knows who we are or what we do for a living. Relax. Anyone asks, tell them anything but your name, rank, or serial number. Drink up."
Len had said I take orders well, so I retrieved my beer and put it to my lips. I looked around some more and noticed several guys noticing us. Scott and Blade were laughing and talking on the far side of Brandon, but I didn't know what they were saying. I was quite nervous, but nothing was really going on that was threatening. Across the narrow room, four guys stood at a stand-up cocktail table. Three of them were in their mid-thirties or maybe a little older and one looked to be my age or even younger. His Levi's were white and tight. One of the older guys had his arm around the young guy's waist for a while but his hand eventually began drooping lower onto the young guy's butt cheek. The young guy smiled at the older guy and leaned closer. They kissed, a long and deep kiss, like Coach had given me on our last night together. The hand drifted lower, several fingers digging into the young guy's crack and rubbing up and down, likely massaging his sphincter through the denim. I knew how great that feels and my need surfaced in a way it hadn't since I'd entered the Navy.
Feeling like I might pass out, I swiveled around and planted my elbows on the bar. Brandon turned toward me, then stepped into my side. His hand circled the back of my neck and clasped my shoulder, leaving his arm lying against my shoulder blades. He leaned toward me until his mouth was only an inch from my ear. "Are you okay, buddy?"
I looked at him, reading true concern on his face. I managed a weak smile. "Yeah. I've just never been in a place like this before."
"It's okay. These guys are just like us. Just trying to get laid."
His acceptance and openness surprised me somewhat. "You don't think they're disgusting?"
"Hell, no," he spoke into my ear, his breath sending shivers up my spine. "I kind of envy them, actually."
I couldn't believe that. My friend who just oozed testosterone was okay with queers?
"Seriously, Jody, guys have awesome sex together. That's well known."
I certainly had a lot of experience that supported this statement but had never heard it said. "It is?"
"You bet. What girl would know how to deliver a great blowjob when she can't quite imagine how it would feel?" he asked. "But a guy knows. He knows just how much to squeeze, how hard to suck, the best pace, how to play with a man's balls. And pussy is designed to allow a baby to pass through so how can it be as tight as an asshole?"
Was he telling me he'd had sex with guys before? I wanted that to be true, but I couldn't assume that's what he was saying.
"Um, Brandon, have you ...?" I couldn't finish the question.
"Had sex with a guy?"
"Uhm." I was being incredibly rude asking that. But I had to ask. "Yeah."
"Sure."
We were both silent for a minute. His hand was rubbing my back. I sensed we were right at that place where we could share our deep secrets, but I was chicken-shit. What if he knew I'd love to do that with him? Would he quit being my friend? Or, worse yet, get me court-martialed? Before I could say anything more, a weight-lifter with a dark beard and very tight Levi's stepped up to Scott and said something to him. Scott laughed good-naturedly and shook his head. He put an arm around Blade's shoulders, spoke to the man, then grabbed Blade's chin, turning him to face Scott. Scott planted a juicy kiss right on Blade's lips.
"Fuck!" I said.
"What?" Brandon said.
I pointed and he turned to look at our friends. They were still kissing, faces grinding together, reminding me of the supreme joy of Len's kisses. The weight-lifter looked disappointed and turned around, moving through the crowd toward the back of the bar.
Brandon turned back to me, his face inches from mine. His hand touched my cheek, holding me steady as he leaned closer and closer until his lips found mine. He was kissing me! His kiss was soft and then it wasn't. It grew firm and insistent. Somehow, we were face to face, chest to chest, expanding cock to expanding ... shit! Expanding big dick! Distracted by our groin kiss, I missed the instant his tongue pushed my teeth apart, but I quickly recovered as his tongue licked mine. My mind told me to push him away, but my attraction and my need over-ruled my mind. I pulled him tighter and moaned.
Twenty-five minutes later, we bounded into our room at the Courtyard, where the clock on the nightstand read 1:40. Someone slammed the door while everyone began stripping as fast as possible. We all took a quick pee and then fell onto the two queen-size beds, Scott and Blade in one, Brandon and me in the other. We were like two couples sharing a room on prom night, trying to be alone even as we could hear everything going on 3 feet away on the other bed. I was probably every bit as nervous as that 16-year-old girl preparing to have her hymen breached for the first time.
Sensing my anxiety, Brandon was very tender and sweet as he kissed me, fondled me and thrust against my leg with his giant cock that compared in size to both Len and Coach, my two previous biggest ass-stretchers. Oh, how I wanted to feel his steely prick sliding through my sphincter! After a few minutes of deep kisses, Brandon rolled onto his back, pulling me over with him so I was on his torso. He kissed me for another minute or so before he began to push downward on my shoulders. I knew what that meant, and I was more than willing. I smiled at him and touched his mouth like a good-bye peck before sliding down to gnaw on his nipples, eliciting wonderful groans out of him. After sucking each nipple for a while, I drifted on across the hairy ridges of his abdomen, pausing to lick his navel, and following his treasure trail down to the pot at the end of the rainbow, a cock I judged to be just over 8 and a half inches in glorious length and just under 6 inches in ass-stretching girth. I took him almost to the hilt in the first plunge onto what was likely to be my main interest in the future. He gasped loudly and groaned, "Oh, fuck, guys, Jody is a very good cocksucker!"
At a slight distance, I heard a muffled sound from Scott and a clearer "All right!" from Blade. I could figure out who was doing who on the next bed without interrupting my spectacular activities!
Brandon's breathing got a bit ragged after a couple of minutes. I knew the first blowjob one guy gives another one is a type of audition, so I was giving Brandon the very best I had it in me to give and he was clearly already a fan. I couldn't wait to taste his lovely essence, so I was giving him the super-suck of a Hoover on the high setting when he finally grabbed my shoulders and yelled, "Stop!"
Startled, I stopped moving and sucking, but I didn't pull off. Brandon began to lift gently under my armpits, simultaneously muttering, "Come up here." With his assistance, I climbed across his amazing torso until our eyes were staring across just a few inches into each other while our cocks twitched and throbbed together between us. Glancing over, I saw that Blade was on his hands and knees with Scott eating his hole like he knew exactly what to do. Blade was "oh-ing" and "ah-ing" like some kind of animal. Scott was slurping and moaning, too. For a moment I stared at the hunky lieutenants, transfixed by the shock of what I was witnessing. Then Brandon began tugging with a very strong pull and I turned my attention back to this fabulous man!
Brandon kissed me lightly, then, breaking the kiss, he smiled and looked deeply into my eyes. He must have seen something in my countenance because he whispered in a very sexy tone, "You want to feel my cock deep inside you, don't you?"
It was phrased like a question but seemed more of a statement. He'd certainly captured my feelings in that moment. At that moment, I didn't realize just how presumptuous that statement was. "Yes, Brandon, I really do."
"Excellent," he said as he pushed me off him and twisted me onto my back. As I watched Scott slide his impressive erection into Blade's lovely butthole, Brandon lifted my legs and I held them. With no hesitation, he bent down and planted a kiss on my throbbing anus. I was so surprised and it had been so long, I shouted out a startled, "Oh, baby!" Over the next several minutes, Brandon's lips and tongue became very well-acquainted with my hole and I became reacquainted with ecstasy.
At one point, my attention was again drawn to the other bed as Blade cried out, "Oh, yeah! Fuck me!" I looked over to see the final 2 or 3 inches of Scott's thick rod disappear into Blade's clenching hole. Just when I thought I was going to pass out from the exquisite feelings Brandon's oral efforts were bringing me, he replaced his tongue with a greasy finger. He worked my ass for a couple of minutes, making my dickhead drool a steady stream of sticky pre-cum.
"Are you ready, man?" he asked as his two, no, three fingers fought for domination of my hole.
"Fuck, yes!" I cried.
He extracted his fingers, spent a moment lubing his dick, placed his arms across the backs of my thighs, and crawled above me until he could lean down to kiss my lips. While our tongues dueled in my mouth, he placed his massive cockhead against my little rosebud. It was clearly an impossibility, but he pressed forward, building the power behind his push until my sphincter burst open and he slid in 3 or 4 inches.
"Aiiieeee!" I cried in a mix of surprise, pain, and pleasure. He was still a moment until I said, "Give it to me!" Slowly he gave me the other 5 or 6 inches until my body held tightly his lovely appendage. "Oh, yes! You feel so good in me!"
"I do feel good in you," Brandon agreed. "You took it all the first time!"
I smiled up at him and wiggled my eyebrows. "I'll take it all every time!"
A strange look of awe and joy came over him before he grinned and said, "Fuck, yeah!" Then he pulled halfway out and plunged back into my interior. The nerve endings in my asshole verified that Brandon was very nearly exactly the same dimensions as were both Len and Coach. I was in ecstasy!
For the next few minutes, the sounds of large mammals in rut filled the hotel room as Scott pounded Blade and Brandon pounded me. After a few minutes, the sounds coming from the other bed grew quite intense until Scott screamed out as he obviously blasted Blade's interior with his sweet juices. As Brandon's thrusts carried me ever higher in my climb to nirvana, I lost track of what the others were doing, so it was a surprise when Blade screamed out, "I'm cumming!" I looked over to see Scott's mouth impaled on Blade's big sword as Blade thrashed around and white cream began oozing out the sides of Scott's mouth.
The sights and sounds of their sexual union coupled with the pounding of Brandon's amazing cock against my prostate pushed me to the crest of my sexual tension. "Ooooh, fu-u-uck!" I cried as my cock began drenching both Brandon's and my torsos with my sticky cream. As my body brought its energy together to power a big blast of cum, my asswalls would clench tightly, squeezing Brandon's wonderful dick each time. On the second or third clench, he crested, too, and began blasting his lovely seed into my hole. Together we writhed for a minute as cum spewed forth and we were overcome with our mutual release.