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Texas Training Part III
Summary: At the invitation of my uncle who had extra tickets to the Cowboys game, I brought a fellow military "trainee" to my relative's home in Dallas for the football weekend. An impromptu cold-snap had the two of us sleeping back-to-back in a big double bed to keep warm. That's when I got my first introduction to anal sex!
Right before we were commissioned as second lieutenants, my friend arranged for a celebratory party that centered around SEX! for a select number of guys. That was my first introduction to many sexual activities and helped me to appreciate some of the new and beautiful things in life. If it feels good and doesn't hurt anyone...do it!
Part III, Section I
I hadn't thought about those events from the early days of my military training...well, not often. Occasionally, my wife and I would have friends over for cocktails or a cookout, or maybe just when sitting on the screened porch during a soft summer evenings, we all would laugh and rehash funny events we had experienced, usually ending up agreeing that life is indeed swift and should be enjoyed. Sometimes, I would silently reflect on those few days in Texas and carefully smile as everyone chattered away.
Yes, a few years after I had been commissioned a second lieutenant and received my wings, I had progressed up to a decent rank, I got married to a very nice secretary. I decided to make the military a career and helped my wife get her degree and move into a professional position. Unfortunately, we had no children, and I often think if that had happened, it might have kept us emotionally connected. As it was, we sort of drifted off into our own careers yet still stayed together in supportive and respectful ways.
A couple of years after I retired from the military, my wife died rather quickly from cancer. It was a sad time but one which probably brought us closer together than we had been since our early days. I was glad for the sake of us both that her life ended within a couple of months, made more palatable with pain-killing drugs and narcotics. Life often has a way of laying out the unfathomable, rearranging the hand we're dealt.
We both had had time to prepare and had even talked about how I would continue with my life and some options I might consider. It made us both feel good and at peace.
It now has been two years since my wife died. I threw myself into my work, capitalizing on my years as a pilot in the Air Force to become a pilot for a major airlines here in Atlanta. I developed a close relationship with a cousin and his family in the same city and enjoyed being included in as many family events as I wanted. Everything was fine.
I had completed a flight into Chicago and was staying there over night: in fact, I had two nights in Chicago before my next flight. After dinner, I stopped in the bar for a nightcap. It was nice just to sit in a quiet booth and enjoy my scotch I noticed this guy at the bar glance over at me a couple of times but paid little attention until he got up and walked over to my booth. As I looked up unexpectedly, he politely said, "Excuse me, but I was just wondering................Holy Shit, it is you! I haven't seen you since we got commissioned in Texas!" He must have noticed my startled stare and shocked expression and said, "I'm Billy Joe! It's really been a long time!
"Billy Joe! Good Lord, I haven't thought of you in a hundred years," I laughed as the confirmation of recognition swept over both of us. "What a surprise! Sit down if you've got time," I said.
"I only have a few minutes. I'm meeting some members of my team shortly," he said as he sat down.
We almost talked at the same time, trying to get as much information exchanged as possible. I learned that he was attending a conference – Chicago is definitely "conference city" - and would be here a couple of more days. As he was staying in a nearby hotel, we agreed to meet for dinner tomorrow evening to catch up. After exchanging contact information, we both went our separate ways for the evening, amazed that our paths had crossed.
Section II
I really anticipated the next evening with Billy Joe and we met at one of Chicago's nice steak houses for dinner after which we adjourned to his hotel's bar for a drink and a lot more talk. I found that Billy Joe had gotten out of the military after his four-year commitment, received his graduate degree in international relations and began working for an international corporation. He worked in New Orleans and was on his second divorce. "Who knows how many more," he laughed that soft drawl that had been enhanced by his time in New Orleans.
"OK, you said you would tell me about Bry," I reminded him as he ordered another drink (I was approaching the airline restriction on alcohol). "What has happened with that rascal?"
"Bryan! Now that's a whole book and just the little bit I know about him," he laughed. "I actually ran into Hector, you remember his roommate who we were surprised to find out was also his fuck-buddy, a couple of years ago in Miami. He said he kept in touch with Bry and occasionally got together for a wild weekend, the last time probably being five years ago. He filled me in on a lot of things that would be unbelievable for anyone other than Bry."
Billy Joe told me that Bry had wrangled an overseas assignment to Europe and had gotten caught fucking the wife of a foreign diplomat...and the foreign diplomat himself. Actually, he hadn't gotten caught but husband and wife each found out about the other and the "shit hit the fan" so to speak. Bry was quickly whisked back to the United States where he correctly concluded that his military career, such as it was, was definitely over. So he resigned his commission and went back home to help run the family business. Amazingly, after his father died and through no skills of Brys, the business took off and he sold it to a large corporation for a very comfortable sum. According to Hector, he alternated between an apartment in New York City and the family home near Daytona.
We laughed as we recalled the wild night before our commissioning in Texas, both us trying to convince the other that that was the wildest thing we had ever done. I think I was more convincing than was Billy Joe.
"Tell you what, why don't we call that son-of-a-bitch," grinned Billy Joe. "We can find out for sure what his sorry ass has been doing."
"That's a damn good idea, Do you have his number?"
"Nope. But that's what these things are for," he said as he fished out his cell phone and with a few fast movements of his fingers, said, "I think I've got it. Write this down,"
I wrote down the number on a damp napkin and then Billy Joe proceeded to dial. After a few rings, a disinterested voice came on the speaker-phone with a dry, "Hello."
"Hey! Is this Bry? Two of his old military training buddies from Texas days are calling."
"Who in the hell is this? Wait....I think I recognize that voice after all these years. Is this that prick Billy Joe?" With that, the damn burst with laughter, swearing and all three seeming to talk at the same time.
After about 20 minutes of rip-roaring conversation, Bry said, "Look guys. I'd love to see you two again. Why don't you plan to come down here for a weekend. I'll email you a couple of dates. Atlanta isn't that far and New Orleans....well, I'm not sure why you'd want to come down here from the Big Easy, Billy Joe, but I'll welcome your sorry ass anyway! I'll email you two a couple of dates and we can go from there. I'll even set up a welcoming party, maybe not quite as good as Texas was, but I'll try," he laughed. "You know, I'll try to drag Hector up from Miami. We'll have a great time."
With that, we exchanged emails, hurled the last obscenities at each other and signed off.
Section III
True to Bry's word, he sent us a couple of available weekend dates and outlined some vague plans for a "reunion party." It was all set and I found myself sort of excited about getting together again with some old friends and seeing how the ensuing had changed us. I arranged not to fly for a couple of days during our reunion.
Billy Joe and I had arranged our flights to arrive in Daytona about the same time. I actually got him a "buddy pass" and paid the difference as well as renting a car, knowing Billy Joe was a little tight with his dollars due to his impending move to Los Angeles to be closer to his kids and an amicable ex-wife. We would head to Bry's beach house located a few miles above Daytona, "just a little bungalow on the beach," he said.
A few turns from the highway and we were heading down a typical oyster-shell road parallel to the beach with Oleander hedges and mailboxes the only sign of any life. "You think that's it?" Billy Joe said pointing to a mailbox with a balloon bobbing around. A quick push of the gate buzzer, followed by our identification and the solid gate swung open. "Holy crap! If that's a bungalow then that's how I want to live," declared Billy Joe as we drove up to a beautiful two-story house and parked in the parking lot.
We were welcomed by an older Hispanic lady who we later learned, along with her husband, kept the house and grounds in order. We were shown to our rooms on the upper floor. I rolled open the sliding glass door to step out on a wrap-around porch facing the wide open Atlantic Ocean and a wide expanse of beach. Billy Joe stepped out of his adjoining room right after me, both just sort of transfixed by the beautiful view and fresh salt breeze. "I guess he's done pretty good for himself," Billy Joe said as he looked around. "Did you get a note from Bry on your bed?" he asked.
We both read our notes which said he would be there about 6:00 and we would have dinner. If we needed anything, just ask Josefina. Meanwhile, grab a beer and enjoy the beach. And that's just what we did for a couple of relaxing hours.
Bry finally showed up about 6:30 with about three kegs of beer in the back of his pickup truck. After a few minutes of getting acquainted, he had us help him set the kegs up downstairs in a big basement room that opened directly onto the beach. Then we went upstairs where Josefina had prepared a fantastic Mexican dinner.
"Now you take care and don't you break anything," admonished Josefina who picked up her bags and joined her husband as they left the house.
"I don't know what I would do without Josefina and Manuel," said Bry as we finished off the last of the flan. "She knows I sometimes throw some pretty wild parties but I try to keep things under control. She and Manuel won't return until Monday and we'll have everything put back together, assuming the house is still standing," laughed Bry.
"Hey, what have you got planned?" I asked. "You know this isn't Texas anymore and we're all a bunch of middle-aged men now."
"Yeah, but I assume the fire's not out in the furnace yet. We can still enjoy ourselves, right"
"Right!" said Billy Joe enthusiastically.
"Right," I said skeptically.
Section IV
After helping Bry finishing setting things up, I grabbed a beer and just walked down the beach for a while. As I neared the house on my return, I heard a god-awful noise coming from the house. I found that Bry had hired a small band, if they could call themselves that, from south of Daytona whose main claim to musical fame was simply loudness. They were named The Wild Beach Hogs (enough said).
People were beginning to arrive and were in the main living room with the sliding glass doors open to the large wrap-around porch and the trying sounds of The Wild Beach Hogs. People were mingling and talking although I'd guess more than half seemed tot know each other. I wasn't surprised to notice that all the guests were men and most, I'd guess, in their late 30's or older. Billy Joe, with his extroverted personality, was chatting with a group of guys. I had been talking with a guy in a tank-top, cut-offs and flip-flops – seemingly the uniform of the evening – about fishing. People would drift over to what appeared to be a breakfast nook in real life, taking off their clothes and putting them in marked bags, but remaining in swimsuits or underwear.
Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, buddy! It's been a long time, huh?" I turned and looked at the guy standing before me as the registration hit.
"Hector! You rascal! How're you doing!" I exclaimed. "Bry said he had invited you but wasn't sure you would be coming."
"He was just pulling your leg. He knew I would be here. I wouldn't miss this reunion for anything." he laughed.
With that, we gravitated to a less-noisy corner and quickly summarized our lives. I learned that Hector had gotten out of the Air Force after his initial four years, returned to Miami where he helped with the family restaurant. Not really liking that, he opened a very successful shop that sold Cuban cigars (and other things, he said, but didn't elaborate...and I didn't ask). He had been married but was divorced. He looked pretty good having filled out a bit but still maintaining a slender body. His dark hair was now flecked with gray. But his reserved friendliness was still the same as years ago when we all were in military training together.
A muscular, no-nonsense guy who didn't seem to be a guest, whispered something to Bry, "OK, guys. Give me your attention. The party is about to begin downstairs. Some of you have been here before. But there are a few rules that everyone must follow. Nothing stronger than the beer downstairs... absolutely nothing! I don't want to end up in jail and don't want you there either. No glass bottles; use the cups. And if you get too drunk to drive, just let Jock here know. But he'll check you out anyway as you leave. And last, just remember, if someone says "No" that usually means "No." So you're welcome to go downstairs whenever you're ready. Let the games begin!"
With that, The Wild Beach Hogs launched into another incomprehensible "song" which made the thought of anywhere else seem like a relief.
The upstairs began to thin out. I remained seated in a corner talking about airline regulation with a guy who I figured was an attorney. This was a pretty savvy crowd, I surmised.
"Well, I guess we'd better go downstairs and see what kind of mischief we can get into," he said. "Bry's parties if anything are not boring." And with that, he refreshed his drink and headed to the stairs. I did the same and went downstairs.
It took a minute or so for my eyes to adjust to the dim atmosphere and to get accustomed to the main source of light: a rotating disco ball that threw flashes of light around the large room with a very disarming result. There were several padded platforms about two feet tall which were almost like beds. Naked guys were already on or around the platforms engaged in mostly oral activity. Over in a corner was sort of a cage bathed in blue light where a good-looking, well-built guy danced and writhed around. Periodically the blue light would change to a black light which illuminated previously unseen and very pornographic body paint on the gyrating dancer. The crowd would howl at his gestures.
In the other corner with almost no light were two slings suspended from the ceiling, both occupied and received plenty of attention.
There was another long platform against the wall where several guys slumped back, each with another guy embedded between their legs gulping their cocks and eliciting soft moans of delight.
I just stood there for a few minutes taking in the scene, a scene I certainly wasn't used to even though I must admit I had had a couple of male encounters since our Texas training. This was just faster and at a higher level that anything I had ever imagined. Then my mind flashed back to our wild graduation weekend in Texas where things happened that I never even dreamed existed.
As I stood there, the guy I had been talking with earlier – the one with the tank top, cut-offs and flip-flops – came up to me unsteadily. "We need to get you outta these," he muttered as he pulled down my swimsuit before I could respond, letting spring forward my half-hard cock.
With no conversation and no wasted motion, he gulped my cock all the way down his throat. I just about collapsed at the sensation! And within the next few minutes, all previous barriers collapsed and I opened up to the pleasures at hand. I began to face-fuck the guy, holding his head steady as I forced my cock down his throat until he began to gag.
Finally, the guy stood up, gasping for breath. "Hey, man. You're pretty good! But I think I need a breather. Maybe I'll try this again later." With that, he drifted away to the beer keg.
The ice had been broken and the juices were flowing now. Inhibitions were melting fast. I eased toward the two slings, feeling a couple of squeezes and strokes to my hard cock as I went. In the dim light, I could see one was occupied by a guy I recognized from up stairs. The other by what appeared to be a damn good-looking Hispanic guy who I hadn't seen before. The guy fucking him pulled his cock out and before anyone else could step into the slot, I claimed the place. I felt someone's slick hand stroke and slather my cock with a lube and positioned the quivering head right at the guy's welcoming hole. I simply leaned forward and embedded my whole 8 inch cock deep inside the guy's hole, eliciting a body jerk and a loud groan.
"Yeah, fuck him. Fuck his hole," a spectator next to me said. I didn't need much encouragement now and pulled back to slam back in all the way to my pubes. I grabbed his muscular legs held high by the sling chains and began to pummel his hole. As he got used to my size, he began to moan and push his sweet ass forward to meet my thrusts. Almost instinctively, I rotated my cock around, churning the guys guts. He was stroking his cock and suddenly yelled out as he shot a long stream of hot cum across his ripped abs.
Instinctively, I knew the game was over there for a while and I pulled my cock out of his well-fucked hole. He was breathing heavily and lay limp in the sling while a couple of guys bent forward to lick up the cum and suck out anything left from his softening cock. I stepped around and said, "Thanks for the fuck. Damn nice ass!" As I walked away, I heard him whisper, "Any time, man, anytime!"
I was tagged along by a blond guy who said, "You want a beer?" I nodded and rasped out, "Yeah" and he disappeared only to reappear with a full cup of beer. He guided me over to the long padded bench and gently pushed me down, putting the beer in my hand. The cold liquid felt good but not as good as the gentle licking on my half-hard cock.
"This is quite a piece of meat," he whispered. "Can I work on it a bit? Receiving no resistance, he took almost all of my cock in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around the cockhead. All feelings began to return to my groin area as my cock began to harden.
He gulped and sucked and did more things than I ever knew could be done to a cock. I simply slung my legs over his shoulders, feeling his hairy head bob up and down on that rigid shaft. Every few strokes I would thrust upward and ram that hungry cock on down his throat until he gagged. Finally, he pulled away from my cock, tears and saliva racing across his face. He turned around and positioned his ass right over my cock and then pushed down. It was obvious he hadn't been fucked that night and probably not for a while as he would gasp for breath as he stretched his hole over my cock. I remained still and let him do the work. Finally, he was riding my cock like a champ, raising up and sliding down that slick shaft. I held his hips and controlled the thrusts and entry to the satisfaction of both of us. He leaned forward and just let me use his ass as a hammer on my cock. I was aware that as he leaned forward, another guy had stepped forward and was fucking his throat. He was being split- roasted with a cock in both ends.
The heat of his ass and the friction of his hole soon signaled the build-up of a nuclear explosion. As if he knew what was about to happen and to encourage the explosive release, he raised up to fuck his hole up and down quickly on about the end half of my cock, the sensitive part. Hearing the guy feeding him cock moan, "I'm cumming!" carried me over the edge and my body tightened up. That signaled the guy to slam his hole downward, engulfing my entire shooting cock! It was so intense that even now I recall the climax! As I emptied my balls in this guy's ass, he rotated his hole, massaging my cock of all of it's juices. This guy was a pro if there ever was one!
Then he pulled up, looked back over his shoulder and said, "Good fuck!" He walked into the crowd, now through with me but leaving me gasping for breath.
Although a couple of guys tried to re-engage me, I pleasantly declined and headed to the beer machine. Interestingly, the guy who had been talking with me about airline regulation came up to me and tried to start the conversation again. I said we'd have to talk later as I needed to get some air and left him standing there.
Actually, I headed upstairs where there were only two guys sitting on the couch talking. I went out on the porch, enjoying the quiet, the cool ocean breeze and the last couple of inches of my beer.
"You were pretty active for someone not in practice," I heard a familiar voice say. I looked over and there was Hector joining me leaning on the porch railing.
"Hey, buddy. Where were you? It is so dark down there I didn't think anyone could see anything."
"It wasn't that dark. And you seemed to be generating your own electricity!" he laughed. With that, he handed me a beer and we toasted plastic cups. "To a good life whatever it may be!"
We talked a bit and then drifted into silence. Then he stood up, "Do you want to fuck me?"
I remember looking over at him, seeing his handsome face made even more so by the soft moonlight creeping through the trees. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
He paused and said softly, "Yes. Yes, I do."
I looked around sort of anxiously but Hector anticipated my thought. "No, not here. You're staying here so let's go up to your room." With that, he took my hand and quickly led me up stairs where I indicated which room was mine. We stepped inside and closed the door, the french-doors open to let in the fresh ocean air and a soft glow of moonlight.
He stepped forward and pressed his body against mine, his head on my shoulder and arms around my neck. He moved and gently kissed me. I shuddered but the feeling was so natural that I held him and the first male kiss I had had in many years...maybe even since Texas. I remember the feeling being like electricity going through my body and seeming to almost rearrange my cells and thoughts and desires. There wasn't a learning curve here as natural instincts and a hungry yearning took full control.
He pulled back and looked at me with sort of startled look. Then returned for a more passionate kiss. Our hands were slowly caressing each others' body. I felt the warm, muscular curves of his shape as it melded into mine.
Like some kind of theatrical control, the music had changed, replacing the spirited noise of the Wild Beach Hogs with a primordial throbbing of some deep drums punctuated occasionally by the high strains of a violin or fiddle. The jungle sounds permeated the compound with the physical, masculine tones of lust and desire.
Without speaking, Hector guided me to the bed where I lay back as he slid across me, letting his lips return to another passionate kiss. His tongue and lips traced down the side of my neck to circle each of my nipples, sucking and nibbling on each. Then his tongue tracked down the hair on my stomach. I quivered in anticipation of what was coming...and I wasn't disappointed. He sucked the half-hard head of my cock into his velvet mouth, swirling his tongue for maximum pleasure. Though I'm at the age where a second sexual encounter is a rarity, my cock began to respond like it knew no age. Within moments, those urges had returned as I moaned and thrust my cock down Hector's willing throat. I was rock-hard again!
Hector released my cock and slid up on my body, his legs on either side of me as he leaned forward for more kissing. As his lips were glued to mine and our tongues dancing with familiarity, I vaguely felt him shifting downward as he reached back to grab and aim my cock as his welcoming hole. Then he just slowly slid backward, impaling himself on that saliva-coated shaft. He whimpered as I held him close and instinctively positioned my cock so that his acceptance was easy. He leaned up. "Believe it or not, I haven't done this in a long while," he whispered as he slowly rode up and down my cock to increase his comfort level. It was like neither of us was in a hurry.
I held Hector's waist as he became accustomed to to my cock. He was breathing as heavily as was I. Finally, he lay across my body, each of us holding onto the other as he slowly began to fuck his hole up and down on my cock. As he kissed me deeply, we both picked up speed and began to fuck ferociously. There were mixed moans of pleasure emanating from each of us.
I don't think I could put a length of time on the first time we fucked, but I recall so vividly the swirling, fantastic pleasures surging through my body. There seemed to be no hurry to get there or return; just to spin in the cosmic sensations surrounding each of us. We seemed to be locked into each other without time as I rolled on top of him. Only the laws of physics kept our bodies from completely blending into one.
But all thing usually have a destination whether by design or happenstance and this was no exception. I began to feel that internal rumbling that signals the start of the physical and emotional explosion. Hector must have felt it too and the fates directed simultaneous climaxes! I almost lost consciousness the wave of pleasure was so intense! I rammed into Hector's hole as I emptied my sexual juices deep inside him while he tightened his ass, and thrusting upward, sprayed his hot cum across his sweat-covered chest. It couldn't have lasted more than 30 seconds but it seemed like an eternity.
Then like magic, the explosion subsided. The only sounds were heavy breathing as we both gasped for air, our sweaty bodies plastered together. "Are you OK?" I whispered.
"Yeah. I think so. No broken bones and most parts are still in place" he laughed softly.
We lay there for a while, regaining our breaths. Then I slid off Hector's body as he pulled close to me and we lay there for a long time. The drums continued to throb like a heartbeat.
Finally, each of us began to stir. "I've got to hit the bathroom," he said, as he eased off the bed.
"Don't use it up. I'm next!" I said.
When I returned, Hector barely looked at me as he put on his clothes. "Let's go downstairs. I could use something to drink."
I was sort of puzzled, sensing a change in the atmosphere. "Are you OK, buddy?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just don't want to get stiff." And with that, he stood by the door waiting for me to join him.
The party was thinning out but not over by a long shot. As we got cups of beer, I noticed that both of the slings were still functioning. A couple of guys were making out on the couch area though not with the fevered-passion at the start of the party.
"C'mon, let's go walk the beach," I said, not giving Hector much choice as I propelled him out the door. The fresh ocean air and sound of the waves seemed to return things to normal. We began to talk about lots of things just to fill the space. Even a couple of laughs worked their ways in the conversation. We rounded a dune and there on a beach towel was the blond-haired guy getting fucked by one guy, sucking another while a third waited his turn. They glanced at us but paid no further attention.
"That guy's got a little bit of me inside him," I said as we passed them by.
"Yeah. Probably a little bit of most everyone here tonight inside him," he laughed.
We continued walking in silence, listening to the rhythmic beat of the waves, occasionally letting one wash over our feet.
I began to sense it was more than just the silence of the night. That uneasy atmosphere returned. "OK, buddy. What gives? Did I overstep myself tonight? If so, I'm really sorry, Hector."
We walked a few yards in continued silence. Finally, Hector said, " No, you didn't do anything wrong. In fact, it was all good, all right. It's just that I haven't felt like this until...." And his voice trailed off as he looked out to the blinking lights on the ocean.
I stopped and took him by the shoulders. "You mean '...until now.' I felt something happen to me in the room that I can't get my head around. It was strange to me. It was different. And it was good. I don't want to lose it."
Hector looked at me, his eyes moist. I pulled him into me and kissed him softly, my arms surrounding him. I felt him shudder as he leaned into me. We stood there holding each other as the incoming tide gently washed over our feet.
We turned to head back to the house guided by the faint sounds of the throbbing drum, he said softly, "Would you mind if I held your hand?" I looked at him in the soft light and smiled, taking his hand in mine with no words required.
Note to readers: you might enjoy some of my other stories: Just search for Joxn under Authors or look in the Archived section for: Blown Away in Paris; Camp Ground Fun; Confessions of a Cocksucker; Delivering Pizza; Glory; Moonlight Madness; Mowing Results; Rolf Riding; The Stag; The Tree; Using the Club; Harry and Curt; Donny, the Muscle Boy, The Arrogant Jock. Enjoy life!
Joxn@hotmail.com