All the usual disclaimers apply--if you are too young, leave now and come back when you're legal; if this kind of story is illegal where you live, I feel sorry for you so, move to a more sensible place, come back Nifty and read there. I hope you enjoy this; it's my first submission. By the way, this story is true, the sex happened, but be smarter than we were--play safe.
As I walked up to the stadium I was bored and horny--there was no better reason to go to the stadium than that. It was a real stadium, it would seat about 20000 and was used for various ceremonies and occasionally for a football or soccer game and on Division Sports Day and for graduations of both civilian and military school classes. I was a 26 year old sergeant, new to the army and to Fort Progresso, but an old hand at man sex. I was 6' 3" and was a well muscled 225 lbs. I had a shock of red hair kept short, crystal blue eyes and a clear ruddy complexion; I had been told quite often that I had really nice ass, and I was personally rather proud of my 7.5" circumcised dick and I'd figured out I was gay by my 13th birthday. I'd arrived at "Pro" a week before and had quickly picked up on the active underground by-product of "don't ask, don't tell." Oddly, almost all of the casual sex spots on any military base I'd ever been on were "open secrets"--gay service men and civilians all knew and kind of discreetly used the "spots"--and everybody else ignored them. I observed MP's, AP's and SP's often in uniform, as active players in "the games" that went on, as matter of fact, I had some pretty hot times with a few in full regalia. Fun, fun, fun!
Anyway, I walked into the spot; it was a relatively isolated restroom that had the officials' locker room attached. I scored a couple of blowjobs here already and hadn't seen too many trolls or fat boys yet, mostly hot young soldiers in need. I scoped out the place and it was empty except for me. Urinals, stalls, changing room and shower were all empty.
"Dang, hmmm. Give it a minute and see what happens," I said to myself. There were six stalls, none with a door, and three had glory holes. I chose the 5th stall down as it had a hole on each side, took off and hung up my BDU top, pushed my pants and drawers down all the way and sat down to wait. I didn't wait long; after about a minute a guy walked and went to the urinal trough in front of me. He was wearing a PT uniform -- gray ARMY t-shirt and gray cotton athletic shorts (that clung to his shapely ass), white socks and running shoes--he was white with dark hair and looked about my age. I hunched over and listened. I heard pissing and heard it stop; I glanced up and he was still standing there. He half-turned toward me, I could see his dick was still out; I glanced higher and made brief eye contact and deliberately and obviously licked my lips and broke eye contact; boldly, with no pretext he stepped right towards my stall door, dick in hand. I looked him up and down; he had dark eyes and his face looked a bit like Ashton Kircher's (with a flat-top hair cut), nice broad shoulders and chest, and cyclists' thighs and calves. Just a step away, he stopped and dropped his PT shorts and tossed them over his shoulder, and took the last step. He was wearing some kind of mesh jock with a narrow waistband; he reached in and flipped his dick and balls over the waist band as I reached out to pull him toward me. It was a nice dick; 6-6.5", not too thick, not too thin, with a nice hairless nut sack--perfect for sucking --I licked it from base to tip and took the head in my mouth. I tongued it and started bobbing, slurping and humming my enjoyment. He murmured and whispered, "Ho shit, goddamn" and "shit--fuck" and "yeah, o yeah" while caressing my head and the sides of my face. I spit his dick out and pushed it up to slurp those lovely hairless quail eggs, sucking each into my mouth to lavish it with attention. I took the opportunity to pull his jock down and helped him kick it off his feet. I returned to sucking his dick. With my left hand I held his nuts and with my right I messaged his perineum and rubbed his ass crack and tight hole.
As I played with his ass, he pulled his cock out of my mouth, turned around, bent over, spread his cheeks and presented me with his nearly hairless anus--I have been dedicated to the art of analingus since I was introduced to it at age 12--and I dove into it tongue first. I licked and sucked and slurped that hole like a man possessed; I pushed in with my face and tongue so hard I stood him on his tiptoes. All the while he whimpered and moaned like a dreaming dog as he stroked his petrified bone. After a few minutes of this, he gasped;
"Dude, I' gonna cum!"
I leaned back, spun him around and dove on that weenie and sucked like a kid with a straw going after the last drop of soda. He was wheezing and gasping like he'd just run six miles in a half hour. Then he held his breath; "FUCK!" exploded from him and he flooded my mouth with jet after jet of hot luscious cum. As I swallowed, I felt him jerk and spasm above me and heard him say "O shit, O fuck, O God" over and over in a breathless gasp; I squeezed the last drops of juice from his wilting manhood and licked the slit then relinquished my toy to its owner.
He was still breathing hard as he pulled on his jock and shorts; then favored me with a smile.
"Thanks man that was the best. . . Damn," he sighed, gave his head a little shake and walked away.
I had figured right off by the way he'd approached me that there would be no reciprocation. Now the dilemma; do I jerk myself off and leave, or hang out and see what's next? The sound of the door and approaching footsteps decided the issue for the moment. I leaned forward like before and watched the floor in front of me. Boots and BDU pants sauntered past as I watched, and a dark skinned hand and forearm went with them. I heard the telltale sounds of him taking off his shirt and dropping his pants; through the glory hole I glimpsed a chocolate brown butt cheek and a darker arm as he settled on to the toilet.
For about a minute nothing happened. Then for another minute or two we played the foot tap game; then the mutual leaning back and looking. I observed a beautiful piece of chocolate colored meat; it looked to be between 8.5" and 10" and it amply filled the fist that held it. I flashed my 7.5" inches of bone hard pride-and-joy; he must have liked what he saw `cause I got the signal. I stood and put Mr. Happy to work through the hole. Warm moist lips and a hot wet tongue enveloped my dick; an easy sigh escaped me as his hot mouth worked. The hole was big enough for access to my dick and balls and for him to slip a hand through under my sack to work between my legs; his fingers rubbed around and found my tight hole--I spread my knees and tilted my pelvis forward to give him all the access I could--as he played I moaned with joy and approval; all the while he continued with his very professional blowjob. I was feeling good when he spit my dick out and whispered,
"Slide around t' this side Homey."
Without argument, I reached down pulled my pants up enough for me to shuffle to his stall and presented myself to my neighbor. No wasted motion or time--he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me toward him, and consequently, pulled my still raging hard-on into his welcoming maw. As his mouth worked my cock, his right hand held my balls and the base of my dick and his left, once again went to work on my ass. My hands went to his head and the sides of his face and gently caressed him and traced his small ears. I pulled him off my dick and tilted his head back to look at him; he was dark skinned, he had a smallish round head with coarse hair in a high and tight, hooded almost Asian eyes, and a flat wide nose and full lips with a scraggly mustache; under his t-shirt he showed a solid upper body; he wasn't pretty, but he was here and his dick was probably 10" and it was circumcised and shiny--he had lube. As he looked up at me he twisted at least one finger into my butt and gave it a wiggle.
"You wanna fuck?" I moaned
"Thought you'd never ask, but I got no rubbers." He responded kind of neutral.
"It's not a problem for me. I'm clean and you're a soldier too so you should be too."
"I got no prob wid it."
He withdrew his hand; I stepped back and he stood up--he was 5' 4"--with his boots on! But, he exuded an animal sexuality that held me in thrall; it screamed dominant top and made me want to submit. At that instant he took charge; he reached up and pulled my face to his and kissed me, his tongue invading my mouth and then he moved to my neck, nibbling and biting--all I could do was whimper and submit--he was driving me crazy! He knew exactly where to touch or bite or lick to make me a quivering mass of Jell-O.
"Up against the wall, white boy," he growled, "spread your legs, spread your cheeks and give me MY ass!" That last with the definite tone of command. I did as I was told (kicking off one boot and stepping out of one pant leg) and braced myself fully expecting to have all 10" of ebony rammed up into my guts; instead I felt a tongue and lips start eating my--his--ass; I moaned even louder and hissed "OH, my lord." He paused a moment, giggled, and said, "Damn straight! I am your Lord," and dove right back in.
After what seemed like an hour of ecstasy, he stopped and stood up behind me. He reached his arms up under my arms, gripped my shoulder and pulled himself up, sliding his sweaty hairy chest against my sweaty smooth back, our army brown tees long since discarded, and then, softly he asked, "You want me to fuck you?"
I could feel his throbbing wand nestled in the crack of my ass; "Yes my lord, please, please, please." I pleaded.
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me my lord." I said, "I desperately need you to fuck me."
"That's what I like to hear," he said with smug satisfaction.
Before we could go any further, we were interrupted by the sound of car doors slamming. Instantly, he dropped off my back, I spun around and kicked my loose boot into the end stall while he swooped down scooped up our t-shirts, tossed one to me and dove into the other stall. We swiftly dressed, swapping BDU tops at the last second. I flushed and started to leave, when he--Baker by his name tape--whispered,
"Wait for me outside."
I nodded and continued on my way out. Once outside, I, almost literally, ran into a couple of soldiers who were detailed from one of the on post gyms to police the stadium's locker and rest rooms. I nodded my acknowledgement to them and glanced at my watch--1345--then proceeded to my truck, a mint 1981 Jeep Scrambler, and busied myself fussing over it while I waited for Baker. I saw 2 other cars in the lot, figured one was his and briefly tried to decide which one. Neither looked to fit his personality and, as it turned out, neither was his. After a few minutes passed I began to suspect I'd been ditched; just as I got into the truck to start it, he came hurrying up.
"Cool if I ride wi' chu?" he asked
"Dang guy! What took so long?" I snapped.
"I had to take a dump. It is a bathroom you know." He responded snidely. And then,
"You got to be anyplace?" he asked.
"Not `til 1700. You?"
"Not `til Monday morning."
"You gat a place?" I asked.
"Yeah," he responded, "wanna kill some time?"
As he got in the passenger side, I gave him a sly smile and said, "Yes my lord." He laughed out loud.
Baker gave me the directions and soon we were outside a small trailer in a rundown park just off post. I pulled in behind an old Mercury Monarch that had seen better days and turned off the truck. Baker turned his head and looked at me for a moment. Then, with a slight smirk, he gave a nod and without a word led the way into the trailer.
We entered the living room--it, like the rest of the trailer, was neat and immaculately clean. Baker tossed his hat on the table and took off his top and hung it over the back of a chair; I followed suit. Then he turned to me, smiled and said,
"Come here, white boy."
I complied. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my face to his and once again I was in his power. His tongue once again tried to wrap around my tonsils, as his hands opened my pants and took possession of my ass. He released my mouth and we stepped apart, peeled off our t-shirts, untied and kicked off our boots and socks and returned to our embrace; he rid me of my pants so I wore only my boxer-briefs. I knelt before him and undid his pants, pulled them down and off, along with his boxers: he stood naked before me. I took him in; thug tats everywhere; hairy chest and treasure trail over defined pecs and belly with a tattoo that read "LITTLE GHOST"; sturdy legs, also hairy, and the 10" of pleasure arising from a moderate bush and over a sparsely covered small scrotum. If I'd seen him in a locker room, I wouldn't have looked twice, he was too hairy, but now, I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather kill time with, he was so sexy and so powerful. Yum!
I started lavishing attention on his object to get it steely hard. After a few minutes, he pulled me to my feet, turned me around and bent me over the arm of his couch. He briefly gave oral ministration to my/his hole then said, "Don't move." He quickly stepped out of the room and was just as quickly back with lube. He anointed the hole with a liberal amount and greased his rod at the same time--I could have him finger fuck me for hours--the moment of truth had arrived.
"Fuck me Baby. Please fuck me." I pleaded
"Here it comes."
His fingers disappeared, replaced at once by something blunter and broader. For an instant I thought Oh shit! NOOOO!' Then, as he penetrated deeper, I thought Oh shit! YEAAAAAH!' He bottomed out and paused; then gently but firmly, began fucking me, and pounding my prostate into a highly innervated pudding. I moaned and babbled in ecstasy, my dick was diamond hard and drizzling pre-cum.
"You like?" he murmured.
"O-GODS-YESSS!"
"Who owns this ass?"
"Baker," I mumbled.
"Whazzat? What chu say?" he queried.
"This ass belongs to Baker; to the Little Ghost!" I warbled and returned to my moaning.
His fucking motion was steady and hit "the spot" perfectly; after a few more minutes he stopped as he bottomed out. He reached up under my arms and grabbed my shoulders from the front and pulled himself up my back; at the same time he wrapped his legs around mine and lifted himself clear of the ground. While he wasn't fucking, this position had the benefit of driving his dick as deep as possible and bumping it against my prostate.
"Stand up," he said. I did so, carefully--he weighed between 120-130 lbs.--he felt like a heavy rucksack with a special attachment.
"Up against the wall!" he commanded, "Now, White boy!"
I stepped over toward the wall next to the hall doorway, as I moved his dick smacked against my prostate with every step--I could have walked from there to Mexico--and with every step drops of pre-cum popped from my dick. I got to the wall and leaned forward with my forearms pressed against it. He tightened his grip on my shoulders and whispered,
"Ima fuck the nut right out of you. DON'T-TOUCH-YOUR-DICK!"
With that, he started fucking into me, slowly reaching frenzy. Because of the position, his dick pounded me at an odd angle, the result was a prostate message unlike any I'd had before--a steady, firm, constant rub--I need to make up a word to describe how good it felt. All I could do was moan inarticulately and concentrate on keeping my feet under us. He panted and puffed; our bodies, slick with sweat, slid together like machine parts; in that spot up and behind my balls I could feel an orgasm begin to build. I could literally feel it start in my toes--"Ooh Baby!"--I gasped--"I'm close!"
"I am wi' chu," he panted, and then, "Ooh man, I'm Close!"
I was at the boiling point; I held back as hard as I could--my orgasm was boiling and roiling at the very core of my being--I gritted my teeth and must have been purple. I was holding back as hard as I could--I heard him snarl and felt him bite down on the back of my neck--that was it!
"Ooooooh FUCK!" I gasped and released. I came so hard I was afraid that my nuts would shoot out the end of my dick. I think my cum shots dented the wall. I came and came and came and my dick continued to spasm after I'd run out of cum. Baker lay gasping on my back, I stood gasping against the wall.
"Ooh fuck," I sighed, "Man."
"Damn Baby. That was somethin'. Damn," he mumbled.
As I recovered my breath I said, "I'd love to stay like this forever, but I gotta piss."
"Me too," he said as he loosened his grip and slowly slithered off my back. "You can use the hall bath,"--I moved to pick up my clothes--"grab those after."
We moved out, each to a bathroom. I did what I had to and then took a quick shower and discovered that I was bleeding from where he bit my neck. I put a band-aid on and was out in a less than 10 minutes. I found some paper towels and spray in the kitchen and wiped the copious remnant of my nut from the wall. I was putting on my uniform when he came out of the bedroom dressed in `civvies.'
"Get it in gear Sergeant, or you'll miss 1700 formation," he said in a teasing tone.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm going Specialist," I shot back.
"And I'm goin' wi' cha," he stated matter-of-factly, "If daz coo." "Cool wit' me, specialist."
"Call me Ghost, sergeant (Pronounced Sar'nt)."
"And when we're alone or I'm outta uniform, Ghost, call me John."
"K, John, le's go."
He pulled me up by my hand and then turned and pulled my face to his and we shared a lingering kiss. We left the trailer and got in the truck and headed back to post.
I had many, many more adventures with the Little Ghost let me know if you want to read more; constructive criticism is always welcome. Email me at thelilghost06_nThesarge@yahoo.com Thanx --John.