Subject: Naval Tradition Revised 31 Naval Tradition REVISED EDITION Bill Drake (ail) with Corporal Cody NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction explicitly depicting sexual acts between men, including male relatives. If that offends or disturbs you, read no further. Thanks to all the great work that the Nifty Archive does and the writers it publishes. Please consider supporting them with a donation. This is the revised and retconned version of Naval Tradition, told in chronological order. While the overall story is the same, there is lot of new content here (and some of the old parts didn’t make the cut in this version). This revision has been a collaboration with fellow writer Corporal Cody. My thanks to him for his considerable contributions to and inspiration for this version. Feel free to drop a line if you enjoy it: ail. I hope to have a (free) ebook version at the end of this, so you can let me know if you want to be on the mailing list for that. PART FOUR: BACK TO NORMAL Chapter Thirty-One Norfolk, Nashville, and Charlottesville, Winter 2004-2005 I tried to keep my libido in check, but it was hard not to stare at all the Navy men. Being back in a military town generally meant lots of eye candy, but there were times I’d look around and think, holy fuck, there are tons of hot guys all around me. The occasion was Dad’s Navy Christmas function on the Norfolk Naval base. All of Dad’s ship officers and high ranking NCOs were there with their families. Paul wouldn’t be making it back to Norfolk until after Christmas, so it was just me, John, and Matt accompanying Dad to the event. These annual parties were usually pretty casual, no one was in uniform, but me and my brothers were there in our collared shirts and polos, standing up straight next to Dad and shaking everyone’s hand as they came in. As the ship captain’s sons, the three of us knew growing up that the way we dressed and acted at these functions were a reflection of Dad. This year’s venue looked especially decked out with the holiday decorations. I guess as a way of making up for the lack of a Christmas event last year, as Dad’s ship was still out at sea. The long table at the back wall was decked out with food as Christmas music played over the sound system. As more of the crew showed up, I could tell that Dad was beyond proud to introduce Matt as an ensign pilot to the other guys on his ship. As the dinner started, Matt was in conversation with a couple of the younger officers – not exactly schmoozing, but definitely in Navy mode. That left me and John with a chance to talk and catch up as we sat with our desserts at one of the corner tables. I tried not to be obvious scoping out the room while talking to John, but yeah, I was eyeing up the men of Dad’s ship. I have to say, of all the Navy men here, Dad was hands down the most handsome in his tailored blazer and slacks. He had a button-down shirt underneath, but didn’t wear a tie as he left the top button undone, showing off that bit of chest hair. I watched the way he stood, the way he kept his wide and rounded shoulders square and his massive pecs puffed out – smiling, shaking hands, and clasping the backs of his men as they all stood at the front of the room after Dad had just given his little holiday message to his crew. He exuded a level of confidence and authority, even when he wasn’t in uniform commanding a ship. Standing just to Dad’s right, his new command master chief, MCPO Harris, was a close second for my attention – just my type, middle-aged, military build, high n’ tight cut, greying temples with a tough exterior. I imagined what it would be like to suck his cock in one of the restroom stalls, or to line my long thick dick right between his meaty daddy buns as I bent him over the toilet and just fucked him. OK, maybe I needed to get laid, I thought as I chuckled to myself. Before coming home, I had actually reached out to Brian, my Norfolk fuck buddy I’d met online. But I got a friendly rebuff in reply. Maybe he had a serious boyfriend now, but I didn’t know. It wasn’t my business anyway. And I still had Rear Admiral Henson’s number stashed in my dresser back at school. He’d somehow slipped me his card during our threeway tryst in that airport hotel over Thanksgiving break. I had a feeling he didn’t want Jack to know. I still weighed whether I should contact him or not. I felt a loyalty to Jack and didn’t want to hone in on his guy. But then again, Jack had made it clear to me that the Rear Admiral wasn’t his guy in a romantic sense, more of an on-again, off-again fuck buddy. I wondered, though, if Henson was the reason Jack was moving to DC. At that moment, I was simply glad Henson wasn’t there. After the meal there was music, dancing, and a gift exchange. Dad casually mingled with the older guys on his ship while me and my brothers sat together at our corner table, talking, laughing, telling jokes, and sharing stories as the party roared around us. I got asked about school and baseball, and of course my other brothers teased me some. We talked about the fact we were all going to be uncles soon. John went on to tell us that he had just gotten promoted at his job, and sounded crazy busy studying for his CFA exam. Matt had a bunch of stories from his pilot training and was excited for his new assignment. It also sounded like Dad and Matt had a great time in Philly at the Army-Navy football game, too. I had to miss the trip as one of my finals was on game day. And in any case, I felt it was kind of a Navy bonding thing between Dad and Matt. Only my brother said, “You’ll have to come next year, Squirt.” **** Paul and Megan came to visit for a couple days after Christmas, and there was a lot of excitement around their baby to be, Paul doting on Megan the whole time. I don’t know who was more excited – Paul for becoming a dad, or Dad for becoming a grandfather. But from Megan’s stories, it sounded like laid-back Paul had become an anal-retentive planner and dedicated researcher with all the preparation – outfitting the nursery and baby-proofing the house. As Megan told one story about Paul reading 50 reviews for the best crib, John quipped, “He’s a McGrath, all right.” I spent one afternoon watching UVA’s bowl game in Idaho. I didn’t want to be antisocial, but I realized this would be Holt’s last game before graduation, and I felt like I needed to root for him, even from far away. I was able to watch it on the big screen TV in the living room at Dad’s Norfolk house. About halfway through the first quarter, Paul plopped down next to me on the couch, eager to watch some college ball. It was funny – I think my older brother just loved watching the sport, whether he was rooting for anyone or not. As we sat and watched football, I thought back to how Paul was the first person in my family I came out to. Sometimes when you don’t see someone often you notice the changes more. He was the same Paul but definitely seemed more grown up. I’d say he had even more of a cop aura about him these days – the way he walked and talked, and especially the way he kept his chestnut-brown hair neatly trimmed, almost military short. Paul was the only one who got Dad’s grey eyes, and of all my brothers, Paul was the one who also got Dad’s naturally beefy build, and then some. The thicker muscle and slight beer belly was apparent in Pual’s more suburban attire of a polo shirt and jeans. I’d seen some Cavs games televised, but the national audience meant the telecast was slicker, more professional. At one point in the third quarter, the camera cut away to the sidelines just in time to catch Charlie as he took off his helmet to take a drink from his water bottle, his lightly stubbled cheeks looking rosy and flushed from the chilly Idaho weather. “Hey, that’s my roommate,” I let out, then felt dumb, like I was boasting about a celebrity. But I guess the football games were in the limelight in a way our baseball games never were. Maybe if we made the College World Series, we’d have our time on ESPN, but even then with a fraction of the viewership. “No shit?” Paul looked over with a grin. “Looks like the defense will be able to carry you guys to a win.” That’s not what happened. Fresno State evened the score in the fourth, and even through the TV set I was feeling just how tired the Cavs defense was getting. I was feeling bad for Holt, and had a not-so-good feeling about this game. Indeed, the Cavs lost in overtime, and I felt bad that Holt’s final game would be a loss. I sent him a text, telling him I caught the game. “Proud of you buddy,” I added. I’d have to talk more when I got back to see him in person. **** Everyone left the next day – Paul and Megan, John, and Matt, everyone except for me. Dad seemed to be in a really good mood. It was just us taking a long walk to get some physical activity after a few days of eating and drinking and sitting around. The days were gloomy and the hours were short. But while it was brisk out, it wasn’t freezing cold and Dad had suggested a longer walk in one of the state parks not far from the house or naval base. I had on one of my thinner coats over my UVA baseball hoodie. Dad had on his Navy, wool, double-breasted pea coat and his thick-soled winter boots. The park wasn’t deserted, but we were pretty secluded as we strolled along one of the paved trails through the woods. “Dad….” I said as we walked. My hands were in the pockets of my jacket as I looked at him. Stoically handsome as ever as he looked out at the park with his strong-jawed face and stormy grey eyes. The slight breeze pulling strands of his dark brown, salt-and-pepper hair out of place, but not ruining his classically parted Navy hairstyle. “My friend Rick asked me if I was interested in visiting him in Nashville for New Year’s.” My high school buddy, Rick Bryant, hadn’t come back to Norfolk that year, but he’d sent a text inviting me to come to Nashville for New Year’s. He had an off-campus apartment near Vanderbilt and told me I could stay in his roommate’s room while he was away. Dad looked over. “Yeah? You going to go?” I raised my shoulders some. “I don’t know. It’s a long drive.” Dad nodded. “Up to you,” he said. “You don’t need my permission if you want to go.” I realized I was asking for just that. “You wouldn’t mind if I went, then?” I realized I was eager for the trip, more than I’d allowed myself. A chance to see Rick, but also something more to do than hang around Norfolk. Without Rick there, I had no close friends to hang out with. “You should go have some fun, Jimbo,” he said. Dad often pushed me to have my own social life, but this year there was the extra weight of our affair in Mexico. I knew Dad loved to see me, but maybe part of him didn’t want me to be too attached. “I thought you’d be sad to see everyone go back,” I said. “Yeah, some. But I have work to do. And I like a little alone time,” Dad winked. “Seriously, it’s just great to see all you boys again. I’m not sure how much longer that will happen.” “You’re worried Paul and Megan won’t come visit?” I asked, knowing what was prompting Dad’s thoughts. He nodded reluctantly. “Maybe they will, but travel is hard the first couple of years with a new baby. So I’ll be going to visit them a lot, I’m sure.” I don’t think I realized until then how much Dad was looking forward to having grandkids. It was obvious in hindsight, but I guess I hadn’t thought of it. “Looking forward to being a grandpa?” I asked with a smile. Dad chuckled. “I am. I guess between that and turning 50, I’ll officially be an old man.” Dad’s 50th birthday would be next summer, but this was the first I heard of him having any misgivings about turning older. “Come on, Dad. You’re in great shape, and looking great, too,” I said. It was the first time since Mexico that I’d taken the liberty of commenting on his physical appearance. It wasn’t in a forward or flirty way now, but I was sincere in my appreciation of my father. The man was a real hunk, 49 or not. Dad gave me an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Slugger. I know 50’s just a number anyway. I… just… well, I’m pretty sure I’ll be at sea for my birthday… and for my grandkid’s birth, too.” I gave a sympathetic grimace. I had a feeling that would eat at Dad. Family was everything to him, and the Navy often required a real sacrifice. “I don’t know what to say, Dad.” Dad smiled at me. “You don’t need to say anything, Slugger. It is what it is.” We walked a few more paces as Dad finally brought up the source of his good mood. “In better news, I heard that Jack Grant got the job. He’ll be transferring to DC next month.” “Wow, that’s awesome,” I said. I was happy at the news but also feeling a little embarrassed just remembering everything I’d gotten up to with Jack during his Thanksgiving visit. But that was my secret, and I was genuinely happy for Jack. “You think he’s excited?” Dad grinned. “He acts grumpy sometimes and complains about DC weather, but yeah, I think he’s looking forward to it.” In the back of my head I wondered if this meant LCDR Grant was going to be more fixated on Rear Admiral Henson. Jack had always given me sound advice. Now I wondered if he was looking out for his own best interests. The winter sun started its early descent. And as we walked back to the car, Dad asked, “You looking forward to baseball season?” I nodded. “Oh yeah. Particularly after last year.” We both remembered the funk I’d fallen into after my injury. “I’ve been working my butt off to get ready. Sometimes it feels like I practically eat, breathe and sleep baseball.” “Is this your way of telling me your grades are gonna be lousy next semester?” he asked in mock sternness. “No sir,” I laughed. Then I remembered something. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you,” I said suddenly. “I’ve been put up for a student-athlete award.” I don’t think I’d seen that bright a smile on Dad’s face in a long time. “You serious? That’s amazing, Jim!” “Yessir,” I said. “It’s just for the baseball team, not school level or ACC, but yeah.” “Stop selling yourself short, son,” he admonished. “That’s really impressive. I’m proud as hell of you, you know.” “Thanks,” I said, happy for his praise. “I wish I had your smarts. Matt and John’s too,” I said. “I think I’m more like Paul.” Dad laughed. “Paul’s heart wasn’t in school, never was. You can be too hard on yourself, Jimbo. I sometimes think it comes with being the youngest, trying to live up to expectations.” I blushed now. Sometimes I felt real grown up talking to Dad like this, man-to-man, but then the next second I could feel like a little kid again. “There’s an award given at the fundraising dinner, in early February,” I said. “Ripken won’t be there this time, though.” “I’ll be there,” Dad said. **** It was a long-ass drive from Norfolk to Nashville, but I actually enjoyed the trip. It gave me time to reflect on the last year. There had been so many ups and downs and felt emotionally exhausting in a way, not to mention school and baseball. I may have fucked up my relationship with my father, but Dad and I seemed to have come out on the other end OK. I went from the funk of my baseball injury to being optimistic about the upcoming season. I’d had my first real crush and my first real heartbreak. I’d had some incredible sexual experiences but still felt I was finding myself. By the time I got to Nashville, I was ready to just have some fun. Despite the nearly 10-hour drive, it was a blast to see Rick again as I pulled up to his place. He looked way less preppy than he did back in high school, or even freshman year. He let his light-brown hair grow out a bit and now seemed to be more of a T-shirt and worn jeans kinda guy. We gave each other a long bro hug before he ushered me inside his apartment as we began talking like we hadn’t been apart for a year. I wouldn’t say he was the kind of friend who was good only in fun times, but he was less serious about stuff and it was a nice antidote to my moodiness. Hanging out with him was just like picking up from old times, in the best way. And Nashville was one hell of a party town. Rick and I went bar hopping that first night, and Rick took me to the touristy country bars that Nashville was known for. While Rick knew I was gay, I didn’t want to make the evening about scoping out hot guys, but at one point I did get distracted by a group of three middle-aged men hanging out in one of the spots, casually dressed, with that “guy’s weekend” vibe about them. “Hate to tell you, Jim,” Rick said next to me, “but you might be barking up the wrong tree.” şişli travesti He’d seen where my eyes were looking. Rick had always been accepting and matter-of-fact about me being gay. He didn’t even seem to be bothered when I mentioned having sex with guys. But we didn’t have those kind of discussions often, and I knew he was drunk to bring it up. And I was drunk enough not to be embarrassed by it. “Oh, I know I am,” I said with a cocky smoothness. “But it’s fun to look, though,” I admitted before letting my eyes wander for one more glance. Rick gave an amused look over at those middle-aged guys, as if he was a little surprised that was my type, but he didn’t seem too fazed. He looked back at me and said, “I was gonna try to set you up with this guy I know, but he’s not in town.” “Yeah?” I laughed. Rick nodded. “You need a boyfriend, bro. It’s been three years at college and you still haven’t dated anyone, right?” I felt a little defensive. “I get around all right,” I said. I had been pretty successful at finding men for sex. Probably more successful than other guys at getting laid. Not that I couldn’t use it more often. “That’s cool,” Rick said, maybe feeling like he’d overstepped himself in his comments. I sighed. I was in a good mood from our night out, and I wasn’t feeling down now. But yeah, I thought about this a lot, and our conversation was dredging my thoughts back up. “You’re right, bud. I need a boyfriend. Don’t know when it’ll happen.” I paused, then added, “You know, you’re my only straight friend who knows I’m gay, right?” He shook his head. “No, Jim, I had no idea,” he said. Even laid-back Rick seemed taken aback by that news. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing, Rick. But you’re a real friend.” Rick clicked my pint glass with his. “Here’s to friends, Jim.” **** The next night we went out to Rick’s favorite bars – kind of alternative-scene bars with darker lighting, college rock playing, and local beer on tap. The places were actually pretty deserted since the college was on break. But Rick contacted a couple of friends to come, and I got to meet Rick’s new girlfriend. I wasn’t surprised to see my ladies-man friend had a new girl in his life, but I liked her. She was fun and somehow had this energy that made the near-empty bar more lively. For New Year’s Eve itself, we went to a house party at a friend of a friend’s. It was less raucous than Nashville nightlife, but it was just my speed, actually. There were maybe 30 or 40 people, but the house was pretty big. I gave Rick and his girlfriend some space and met a couple guys on the Vandy baseball team. We instantly hit it off and even jokingly talked about the game last summer when the Commodores knocked us out of contention at the Regionals. And, even if it was a party, you get some college baseball players in one place and the talk naturally turns to plans after college. Vandy had a lot of talent on their team, and it was clear these guys would be in the running for a professional career. As the night wore on and the beer kept flowing, I tried to mingle, too. It was great to talk to folks and just absorb a different vibe than UVA. Midnight came, and there was that awkwardness of the midnight kiss as everyone counted down and cheered. I looked over and saw that Rick and his girlfriend were already heavily kissing against the wall. I found myself next to a woman who looked at me expectantly. Fuck it, I though, and leaned in to kiss her. Afterwards, I immediately gave off “friend” vibes to let her know we wouldn’t be hooking up or anything. Rick kind of ribbed me on the way home around 2 a.m. “Going for the girls now, Jim?” he half-asked as we got a half block away from the party house. “Fuck, Rick,” I slurred in my drunkenness. “I hate pretending. I’m pretty shitty at it.” I think Rick felt bad. “You’re probably too good at it. You do you, Jim. You know I’m just teasing you.” “I know,” I said softly. Rick was a cool guy, but the alcohol had dulled my brain and was now making me feel moody as fuck. Rick nudged my arm encouragingly with his elbow. “Well, here’s to a better 2005.” I smiled. “To 2005, buddy.” **** I was hungover but hit the road the next morning by 10. I had an eight hour drive ahead back to Charlottesville. The drive back was shorter but somehow felt longer. Still, I had to reflect that Dad was right: it was good for me to get away. And great to see Rick again. It was dark when I pulled into town, now quiet from the Winter Break. I’d been texting Holt, who was back in Charlottesville as well. So I wasn’t surprised to see Scott’s truck parked out front in the guest space. What did surprise me was that the living room was dark, no TV or game, and I could hear Holt’s Virginia twang and Scott’s deep mellow voice coming from the illuminated kitchen. I stepped around the corner to see Holt’s linebacker frame leaned up on the counter, smiling with a beer in hand. Scott stood next to him at the stove with his wide back to me as I could hear and smell something amazing sizzling in the pan in front of him. They were dressed comfortably, like there weren’t any plans to go out later – Holt in his favorite, beat up, UVA football shirt, cut-off sweats and his flip flops, Scott looking equally comfortable in a cut-off tee that showed off his wide shoulders and bulky arms. Also in sweats but bare feet. I deduced Scott was staying over tonight as well. Scott said something that had Holt laughing right before the older and former tight end leaned in for a kiss. “Hey guys,” I said as I stepped into the kitchen and dropped my bag off my shoulder. “McGrath!” Holt greeted as Scott turned and smiled at me. Holt quickly moved in to give me bro hug. I noticed the third plate set on the table. “Figured you’d be hungry,” Charlie grinned. He held up a beer. “Hair of the dog?” he asked. I’d told him I had been hungover that morning. “I shouldn’t man,” I replied. “That’s not an answer, McGrath,” my roommate and best friend said with a big grin. “Come on. It’s 2005.” I relented and soon was sipping from a longneck and chatting with Scott and Charlie in the kitchen and catching up about their holidays as Scott finished cooking up dinner. There were times that seeing Charlie and Scott together made me envious. I wanted a boyfriend of my own, bad. But that evening, I just enjoyed their friendship. There were worse things than being the third wheel when your friends were great guys. **** I barely saw Holt the rest of the week. He was glad football season was over and seemed to spend most of his free hours just hanging out over at Scott’s. For me, the week was about getting back into the gym, and back to conditioning and batting practice in a hardcore ramp up to the spring season. Sex was very much still on my mind, though. My busy, end-of-semester schedule had a way of tamping down my raging libido, but with a little free time in the stretch between New Year’s and the first week of classes, I found myself getting hard several times a day. With the apartment mostly to myself, I now had the luxury of longer jerk off sessions when I could indulge my fantasies. Now, I had a new star in my masturbation fantasies: Dad’s newest ship NCO, Command Master Chief Harris. But I also thought of Norfolk Brian a lot, both turned on by the memory of sex with the hot older guy and a little wistful I wouldn’t be able to hook up with him any more. It was a moment of weakness, not to mention sexual excitement, that I dug out Bill Henson’s card from my dresser and sent him a text the day after I got back to Charlottesville. Bill Henson entered my head while masturbating more than once, but mostly I was curious about bottoming for a dominant man again. I thought the hotel threesome with the Rear Admiral and Jack would have satisfied that curiosity, but instead I wanted to try it more. I didn’t expect a swift reply. He was an admiral. I was pretty sure I didn’t rank high on the married Navy man’s list of priorities. By Wednesday, though, I got something. I was in the athletic center gym, which was starting to get busy with the athletes using it in the offseason. The guys on the team who were back from holiday break were planning a night out, so my phone had been buzzing all afternoon with texts about our plans. But as I finished my workout, I finally got a chance to look at my messages and among the texts was a number that didn’t belong to any teammate. Immediately, I knew who it was. Rear Admiral Henson. “Good to hear from you, son. You’re not in DC are you?” Clearly he wasn’t too knowledgeable about my identity, which relieved me. “No, Charlottesville,” I typed back. “How about I let you know when I’m down your way next?” “I’d like that sir,” I replied. Honestly, I didn’t know how to address a rear admiral in this context. I mean, he was a cheating man who was setting up a side-fuck with me. But he was also crazy high ranking. I now knew what Jack meant about rank being an aphrodisiac. But it was kind of scary, too. **** I got a call the next day. It was late morning after my workout, after I’d just got out of the shower when I heard my cell phone go off at my desk. Mostly dry with damp hair and a few stray droplets of water on my skin, I wrapped my towel around my waist and rushed back into my room. Clutching my towel, I picked up my phone to look at the ID screen and froze. I had been careful in not entering Henson’s number into my contacts, just to be safe, but I had a good idea who it was. “Hello?” I answered with a bit more meekness than I intended. “Is this Jim?” The voice was deep and booming. Henson. I leaned up against my desk as I felt my dick begin to plump under my towel in response. “Yes,” I replied, almost obediently as I felt my hold on my towel loosen, the plush fabric threatening to slide off the curve of my ass. “Bill Henson here.” His voice and the idea that I was talking to this man again made me leak. My groin tightened and my cock firmed up to a half-hard state. “Hello, sir,” I replied deferentially. “It’s good to hear from you.” “Ha ha,” the Admiral chuckled lightly, his voice lightening up. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you. You doing well?” “Yessir, things going good here.” Then I couldn’t help myself. “I’ve thought about you, too, sir.” It somehow felt like he wanted me to respond, in just that way. I could tell he was satisfied to hear me say that. I could almost see the leer on his lips. “Listen, I gotta come through Charlottesville tomorrow night. I don’t know if you have plans…” After hearing Dad talk on the phone to the guys on his ship, I knew that Navy voice anywhere. Direct, and all business. “No, sir,” I replied quickly. “It would be great to see you.” There was something so easy, so transactional about the way we were setting up a fuck date. “Good to hear, Jim. Why don’t we say 6 p.m. at the Omni hotel? I’ll text you the room number.” “Great,” I replied. “I’ll see you then sir.” He didn’t reply as he hung up instead. I tossed my phone onto my bed then let the towel drop, falling open as I now stood naked in my room. I was hard, my cock swinging low and heavy as I could feel my hole twitch between my ass cheeks, excited for another round with the Admiral. I gave my dick a quick jerk to prime the pump but let go, deciding to save my load. I was giddy with excitement all the next day, and Holt even asked me what was going on. I was cagey on the details but told him I had a hookup lined up for later. He just gave me that knowing look and told me to have fun. Holt left to meet back up with Scott around 3, but it was around 5 o’clock when I finally got a simple text message from the unregistered number: “403” it read. I put on my faded Virginia Baseball T-shirt, a nice snug fit that showed off my build and some jeans that did the same for my ass. When it was finally time, I threw on my ball cap and winter coat and walked over to Rear Admiral Henson’s hotel, which was in the downtown area. The hotel was nice, a lot nicer than the one before. It was a quiet time of year but there was a small group of businessmen and women in suits and skirts in the lobby and another group of more casually dressed people who probably were visiting for university business. I made my way to the empty fourth floor hallway and with a nervous pause, knocked on his door. I waited a few seconds until I heard the door knob twist as the door opened just enough for me to see that the hotel room inside was pretty dark. I could make out the silhouette of the man in the dimness – large, stocky, definitely built like an ox. Rear Admiral Henson. He stepped back as I entered. The door shut behind me as I let my eyes adjust to the shadows of the room. It took me a second to realize that he was wearing his Navy uniform, cap and all – the same service dress blues from before. The room was dim, lit only by a single lamp, but I could still see the stray strands of light glint off the gold buttons on his double-breasted jacket, the badge above the visor of his combination cap, even the eagle and trident of the man’s SEAL insignia on his breast, and finally the wedding band on his thick finger. He turned and walked back into the room. “Come in,” he said with his deep baritone voice, his tone somewhere between an offer and a command. “You can put your coat on the chair.” I felt even more nervous now as I stepped into the nice large hotel room and watched the hulking Rear Admiral step back up to the table and pick up a small rocks glass – whiskey from the look of it. The glass jingled with a pair of ice cubes as he turned to face me. He did cut an imposing sight in his fully decked out uniform. The man had wide, bulky shoulders and sloping delts that seemed to melt into his thick neck, his chest was enviable, barreled and stocky as it jutted out from under his jacket, shirt and tie. His arms looked thick, especially so wrapped in those uniformed sleeves. I was reminded how much more of a decorated military man he was when compared to Jack, and even Dad. But fuck… the Navy sure knew how to cut a uniform. The Admiral silently watched me with penetrating brown eyes as I unzipped and opened my coat. He let the corner of his menacing lips curl as he slowly and gently tilted up his square-jawed, cleanly-shaven chin. I pulled my ball cap off as my blond curls tumbled out over my forehead. I held his stare as he sipped his minibar whiskey neat from his glass, eyeing me the whole time like an appraiser. I started to wonder if I shouldn’t be there. Still, I took off my coat and tossed it over the nearby chair as instructed. The high-ranking officer was clearly impressed with my body, which showed pretty well in my trim-fitting, thin cotton T-shirt. His eyes raked down my body lecherously, clearly thinking about me naked. Even with the cold walk over, I was glad I underdressed for the encounter. “I don’t know where Jack found you,” Bill said, giving me relief that he had forgotten about my dad and my connection to Jack, “but they don’t make them any hotter than you, pup.” He took another sip and set his drink back down, stepping up closer, into my personal space. I was slightly taller, but I still felt small around him. “You understand this stays private, just between you and me?” His voice dropped an octave as I watched his dark eyes harden. A question but, again, almost a command. “Yessir,” I said timidly. “I don’t want anyone knowing either,” I offered, and I could tell that helped ease his doubts. Henson gave a nod, his gruff face looking somehow more handsome than before as he gave an approving smile. He stepped up even closer to me, an inch between his uniformed chest and mine, and said in a low clear voice, “I remembered you seemed to get off on the uniform last time.” And just like that, he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in for a powerful kiss. My lips crashed against his hard mouth as his thick tongue thrust its way possessively into my open mouth. He tasted of scotch, and I whimpered into his kiss as his tongue dominated mine. He growled, loving my reaction. Henson gripped my shirt at my sides and pulled me against him with an assertive force. I took a stumbling step forward as I gripped his thick uniformed shoulders and neck, the Admiral’s hand at my waist slightly catching me as he continued to plunder my mouth with his lips and tongue. Along with my own growing hardon, I felt the man’s hard and fat cock press against my groin from beneath his uniform trousers. His hand slid down to my ass, gripping my round glutes through my jeans as he pulled my pelvis against his, grinding beylikdüzü travesti my groin against his dick with his overwhelming strength. Maybe I was still nervous about what was going to happen alone with this man, but I certainly was starting to get majorly turned on as I felt that switch in my head starting to flip. I was out of breath and excited when he abruptly broke the kiss, my lips a bit swollen and glistening with our shared saliva. His strong fingers massaged the back of my neck seductively and his dark eyes gazed into mine. “I thought we’d see about breaking you in a little more this time.” There was that leer again, along with a glint in his eyes. “Yes, sir,” I replied, suddenly feeling like I wanted to… had to please him. Somehow this was like the hot porn video coming to life. Maybe even hotter than the porn video, because it was real. He gave me a pat on my ass that was somewhere between a gentle caress and a light slap. “Good boy.” I took an inhale of breath, feeling turned on in an unexpected way. Particularly as his hands groped my body through my shirt, running up and down my muscular build. He gripped the hem of my T-shirt and began yanking it up, but not off as it bunched just above my pecs. The Admiral ran his thick fingers along my lightly furred stomach, tracing the grooves of my abs and up to my smoother chest. His mouth was still close to mine as he spoke. “This will be our little secret, all right?” I looked up. His eyes bored into mine as I nodded. He grinned. “Besides, this will give us a chance for a little training time without a chaperone. You want that, Jim?” “Fuck yeah, sir,” I hissed as my gaze met the challenge of his. I felt out-experienced and outmanned, but I came here for an experience and I told myself I was going to have it. I wasn’t sure how this scene was supposed to play out, but I couldn’t help myself from asking. “May I suck your cock, sir?” I asked. I was eager to try out Holt’s lessons on the officer, as I wasn’t quite able to last time due to the intense face-fucking I was given instead. The Rear Admiral’s leering grin grew bigger. “You’re an eager pup, aren’t ya?” he asked with a bit of condescension tossed in with the clear lust. He pulled away as he stepped back, leaving me at the edge of the foyer as he marched deeper into the darkened room. I watched as he sat on the king-size bed and took off his shoes. He seemed to be smirking at me, taking his time unlacing his black leather uniform shoes and slipping the first one off, then the other. Not taking his eyes off me from under the visor of his combination cap. He then stood and unzipped, slipping his black trousers off his thick furry legs, then followed by his underwear. He was less ceremonious as he tossed them over another chair next to the bed. I looked down at his half-naked body. Scanning the front of his deck-out uniform until… riding up between the spread tails of his white cotton shirt, I saw that fat cock I remembered from our hotel threesome almost two months earlier. That imposingly dense and cylindrical shape, reminding me of a beer can, topped with a blunt, cut head – not as girthy as the shaft, but still formidably thick. He was just shy of six inches, but I remembered the struggle, discomfort, pain… and pleasure that dick caused in me. I wanted it. Again. “Go ahead, stud, it’s feeding time,” were his simple words. Expectant. Henson placed his hands on his bare thighs as I scrambled down into a kneeling position between his spread hairy legs. I ran my hands up his hairy, naked, burly quads as I felt the heat from his crotch on my cheeks. Up close, his fireplug dick was bigger and fatter than I remembered. I touched it, wrapping my baseball-player fingers around the shaft, only to realize once more that it was way too thick for my hand. I felt the warmth and hardness and gave it a few slow strokes before pulling it up to my open mouth and licking up and down the wide shaft. This would be a challenge but I was turned on like hell and determined to take this man to the hilt. With my fingers around his fat shaft, I plopped the leaking cockhead in my mouth, wrapping my lips around the corona, feeling the slight stretch as I worked my tongue against the underside. I looked up at him, seeing his leering but still handsome face smirking down at me – his officer’s cap still perched on his head and almost covering the dark sheen in eyes. His near-black uniform jacket was still buttoned up, forcing the lapels to stretch across his jutting barrel chest and massive shoulders as he kept his hands clasped at his waist. I let out a small moan and worked my jaw open wider to fit more of his torpedo-shaped tool into my mouth. The Admiral’s thick hard flesh pressed my tongue down and filled my oral cavity. My eyes began to water, but he kept his stare and silent leer on me. My lips stretched further around his beer-can shaft, then Henson’s fat cockhead nudged against the back of my mouth. I moaned as that cock got caught in my throat. My gag reflex flared up momentarily a bit before I stamped it back down. That made his grin widen, growling with approval. “Take it, pup,” he grunted. Tears now running down my cheeks – I had him almost all the way down. As I looked up at him, I wondered how old Rear Admiral Henson was. Early to mid 50s, I’d guess, but his bulky body was powerful and definitely a turn on. Conditioned, strong, officer material, and a former SEAL at that. The way his uniform was cut to fit his bull-built body just so, showcasing all that bulk… it just accentuated the sexual and dominating effect for me, and I found my throat opening up as the last heavy inches of dick slid inside my eager mouth. I braced myself on his thick quads as he pushed further, into the tightness of my gullet and his hand finally reached down to caress my hair. As he raked his fingers through my curls, I moaned again with a muffled sound. The head of his cock slid past my gag reflex and lodged at the entrance of my flexing throat. He groaned with clear pleasure. My nose pressed into his dark blond pubes, his hanging testicles tapping my smooth chin as my mouth was now full of the Admiral’s fat dick. I looked up at him, probably innocently, as I felt my eyes water. “Gmmgh… Yeah. That’s it, pup, take that officer cock,” Bill hissed through gritted teeth and finally took a fistful of my blond hair at my bangs, pulling my head back so he could get a good look at my lips stretched around the base of his thick rod. I moaned defenselessly as I began flexing my mouth and throat around his dick, trying my Bulldozer technique but feeling like this dick was just way too thick. He bit his lip aggressively, feeling me work around his shaft and he groaned deeply. “Shit, you’re good at this. Fuck… that’s a hot mouth. Maybe I should sign you up for the Navy, boy. Would you like that?” He pulled my mouth off his prick by my hair, his fat cock sloppily sliding from my lips with a wet slurp. My saliva clung to my bottom lip and the head of his soaked prick as I took an immediate deep inhale. It all made me think he wanted an answer. “Yes, sir,” I breathed, staring at the beauty of that giant dick coated in spit and looking up at the uniform-clad figure above me. “I bet. We could use a hot cocksucker like you in the Navy.” His words were crazy hot, but so was his voice – deep and resonant. I could imagine popping wood all the time if he were my commanding officer. I didn’t know what he expected of me, but I thought I’d play along. “I’d be at your service, sir. Hot mouth just for you.” I just ran with the sexual stream of consciousness in my head, fueled by the porn videos I’d watched. My hand felt up his thigh and I dove in to lick at the underside of his throbbing dick. He looked down at me with a deliberate pause. My heart beat as our eyes locked. “Mine to use, huh? You sure about that, pup?” he asked like it was almost a dare. I was nervous as hell where this might go, but I wanted to go there. I nodded. “Yes, sir, I’m sure.” I watched the grin fade from his lips as the glare in his eyes suddenly, and somehow, got darker. “Stand up, bitch,” he growled as I noticed the muscles in his strong jaw tighten. His voice – this was an order. I was expecting this. Henson said he’d go harder this time, and Jack had hinted the man got off on humiliating talk. But I still wasn’t sure how much I liked him calling me that. Part of me wanted to call it off. I knew I could leave, and I knew I could also hold my own with this guy, Rear Admiral or not. But I took a deep breath and decided to go with the flow. See what it would be like. Still a little lightheaded from blowing the officer, I got up onto my feet in front of him. “Lose the jeans and get on the bed…. All fours,” he said in that commanding tone again. I was feeling a million emotions battling in me. But I had to admit I was turned on as I followed his instructions. I loved the power and authority the man represented, and his words and his voice had a way of tapping into a deep desire. I considered removing my snug fitting T-shirt, but the man hadn’t said anything about it. So I was naked from the waist down as I settled myself on all fours, resting on my forearms against the bedspread as I presented my spread legs and ass for him. I looked back and watched Henson step towards the dresser as he carefully took off the rest of his uniform – his cap, his jacket, then his shirt and tie. When he turned back around, I gasped as I finally got to see the Admiral naked once more. The light-colored hair on his chest and thighs caught the low light in the room as it spread across the skin of his bulky muscle. The man was definitely built like an ox. He lacked the defined cuts of muscle, like me or Jack. But he definitely looked more powerful with all that hulking mass on his frame. The way he carried his barreled chest and bouldered shoulders as he walked made something in me cower. I could definitely see the SEAL in him. His longer, light blonde hair was slicked back from his face, looking almost villainous as he stepped towards the bed and me. He didn’t have the six-pack abs anymore, but his thick and solid core fit his new build. And right below his hard belly was his fireplug cock looking red and angry as it pointed right at me. He knelt up on the bed behind me as I felt his weight press down on the mattress. Before I could look back, there was a firm smack on my ass that echoed through the room. I gasped at the flash of pain followed by a lingering heat. I soon felt his large mitts on my asschecks, his firm fingers digging into my fleshy orbs as I felt him pry them apart. His grip so hard, I could distinctly feel the wedding band on his finger. The cool hair rushed in, brushing over my formerly concealed hole, making it pucker in response. “Fucking nice,” his booming voice growled. “Jock boy’s ready for dick.” “Yes, sir,” I said, starting to get excited again as I tried to keep my voice from quivering. It had been a couple of months since Henson had last fucked me, and while I also liked a gentle approach, I relished sex like this scene with Henson. Pure, animalistic, sexual. I raised my head and looked back to see him generously spit on his index and middle fingers before he lowered his hand between my ass cheeks as his other hand held me open. I felt his prodding digits spread the saliva across my puckered entrance. His fingertips circled my hole before I felt his middle finger stiffen and firmly press into my chute. His fingers were thick, just like the rest of him. There was that slight sting and discomfort as I could feel the girth of his knuckle slip past my ring as he lodged his digit fully inside me only to pull out and replace it with his index finger. I had tightened up since before, but now he worked on coaxing me open as the pain subtly faded away. I shut my eyes and gasped at the filling pleasure of one, and then two fingers. “Are we gonna get any lube?” I asked, concerned but with clear arousal in my voice. His one hand gripped my ass cheek a bit harder while the other fingered and played my hole, filling me and coating my inner walls with his saliva. He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the action between my spread ass as he watched his fingers disappear into my depths. “No, we’re not going to get any fucking lube. Daddy wants a nice tight fuck and you’re gonna give it to me. Got a problem with that, pup?” His voice told me there was only one answer to that question. I didn’t respond, feeling a nervous pit in my stomach now as the pleasure continued to radiate from my hole. Hanson’s hand swatted my ass again, a little harder, the sound sharper. I winced at the hot pain as I felt it ripple across my cheek. But he said the one conciliatory statement he’d make all evening. “Don’t worry pup, I know how to do this. Just trust me, OK?” With my head still facing down, I nodded. I honestly didn’t know if I could trust him. But the fact he seemed to recognize my hesitance made it easier. “OK,” I relented as I felt his delving fingers massaging my innards, the pleasure just about soothing away the pain of the smack. “That’s more like it,” he said, quickly pulling his digits from my ass and spitting on his fingers again only to press them back into my hole with little finesse. “Just remember how you address me next time,” his voice dipping back into a tone that I’m sure he reserved for his subordinates. “Yes, sir,” I said. I tried to hold my whimper back as his two, and soon three, fingers pummeled my hole. I moaned as I clenched my fists, his fingers now digging deeper with each plunge as I felt this was more to stretch my ring open and less for my pleasure. “Good boy,” he growled as he abruptly extracted his fat fingers, making me gasp as I felt my hole close back up. I felt him move off the mattress then watched him come around to the front of the bed. He had that swagger of command as he marched right up to my face. He knelt one knee onto the bed next to my head, hands at his sides, his groin coming closer to my mouth as he offered his dick to me. He looked impossibly hard, the skin stretched around his beer-can shaft was taught and smooth as the head was so bloated and pink, it looked red. It bobbed in front of my eyes with a pulse, and I could see the piss slit in his dick open to spew out a drop of clear pre-cum. I looked up into his eyes and realized this was him offering me a chance to get as much saliva on it as I could. My mouth watered as I stuck my tongue out and began lapping at the head, tasting his salty sap before taking him into my mouth. My lips latched around the shaft just under the head as I began laving his dick in viscous spit. My tongue swirled around the head as I sucked a few more inches between my lips. I kept going until this girth became too much. I couldn’t get all of his dick in mouth at this angle, but I sucked and spit out a little extra to coat his girth. “Fucking bitch,” he growled as he ripped his dick from my sucking mouth and scooted back off the bed, walking back around to my still upturned ass. I held steady as I felt his meaty hand on my ass cheek once again, pulling my ass open while his right hand guided that missile to my hole. There was no teasing of my puckered entrance, like with Jack… or Dad. No swipes or prods, no smearing of lube, just that lining nudge and then the building pressure as his dick pressed and fought against my tightness. I felt my hole being wedged open, but he was just so thick. More pressure. It knew it wouldn’t stop until he was inside me. “Mmfff-…” I moaned as I felt the fat head slice into me, the pain lighting up like a fire as my ring again stretched to impossible lengths. I bit my lip and clenched my eyes, knowing that the head was still not as thick as the shaft. The penetration stung, but he went slow, giving me another inch. His hands clasp my waist and firmly pulled my hips back to meet his powerful cock. I gritted my teeth and focused on everything that turned me on. His uniform, his body, the way he looked at me and saw just sex… Then, as that thickness worked itself into me, something clicked, I still felt the pain, but it was suddenly eclipsed by a numbing pleasure. My ass walls expanded and let the rest of that fat monster penetrate me with what felt more like coffee-can thickness. It didn’t change the fact that he was still thick and I was still snug, but as more of his cock slid into me… it felt fine. Better than fine. Good, actually. “Oh fuuuck, sir… Yes,” I sighed, opening my eyes wide open again. My elbows istanbul travesti gave way under my weight, making my chest and shoulders fall against the bed and the side of my face press into the comforter. My back arched a bit and my ass pressed back into his thrusting groin, my thighs spreading wider. With each inch now, my hole opened up a little bit more. Maybe I craved a good fuck more than I realized. And Henson was turning me on like crazy, his masculine presence and authority making my tight jock hole submit to his fat invading shaft. I craved sex with an older man. I knew that. But having this full-blooded, 50-something satyr there was pushing my buttons big time. I listened to him growl with approval as he fucked open my resistance with his fat fuckstick. I gripped the bedding and moaned out once more into the mattress, feeling his thickness finally bottom out. At this point I was glad Henson didn’t have my length, or Dad’s. His furry pelvis pressed against my ass as I felt him bend down over me, his hands planting just under my shoulders. His hard gut pressed into my lower back and his breaths were heavy above me. Every bit of that body contact excited me. My hardon raged back to life after the pain of penetration, bobbing between my legs and hanging heavy as I knew a stream of sap was leaking down onto the bedspread. I then felt a heavy arm reach under my chest and pull me back up onto my hands. My delts and traps finally pressed up against his furry barreled chest, and I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck. His cock pulsed in my stretched hole as my chute clenched around his immense girth. “Jesus Christ, that’s one hell of a hole you got, pup,” the man growled in my ear as he held my body back against his hard and bulky chest and torso, his one arm gripping my pec as he held me tight. “Better than the last time I fucked you,” he said with his lips pressed to my ear. I felt his hips move, drawing his dick almost half way out, letting my ring dilate around the thickest part of his shaft before plunging back into me with force. I cried out and flung my head back into the crook of his neck. His arm around my chest held me steady as his cock started pumping in and out. Not roughly, but with the lack of lubrication, it all felt very intense. Gradually, my focus was not the pain but his stocky cock, which felt like it was punching my prostate. It was intense and intensely wonderful. My mouth hung open and I let out a low stream of moans, feeling my innards sing around his dick. “Fuck me,” I hissed as I clenched my eyes, feeling my lower back arch a bit more to line his plowing dick up at just right angle. “Is that how you address me, slut?” The Admiral’s voice was sharp and domineering, but definitely turned on. He gave me an especially forceful jab that highlighted the pain that still lingered beneath the pleasure. I whined, voicing my discomfort. But I was now in the headspace where I was getting more OK with the name calling. “Sir,” I added, my voice broken between whimpering with pain and moaning with pleasure. “Fuck me, sir… Fuck me!” I all but pleaded. “Fucking cunt,” he hissed through clenched teeth against my ear. His thrusts were becoming more insistent now as I could feel the layer of sweat break out across his chest and belly. His cock now sawing in and out of my unlubed and abused hole with abandon. Fuck I was gonna feel this tomorrow. The room filled with the sound of deep breaths, low groans and slapping skin. “Been thinking about this all week. Just dumping my nut in your hole. Using you and heading home after,” he growled between breaths. I don’t think I fully knew until that moment what Jack Grant was talking about with the submissive thing. I’d felt it some before with the Rear Admiral. And I’d definitely experienced it when Dad shaved me down in Mexico. But at that moment, as Henson fucked me harder and growled various forms of sexual abuse in my ear, I felt that switch Jack had mentioned. This was turning me the fuck on. I’d have to reckon later with what this meant for me. For now, I went with it. So far, I’d been reactive to Bill Henson, but I decided to give back the verbal litany he was giving me. “Use my hole, sir. I’m yours to get off in.” My voice was clear and needy. That excited him all right. His meaty chest fully fell onto my muscled back, and I felt the breath of his sighs against my neck. “Oh fuck, you cunt,” he hissed as he nibbled my ear lobe. Under his weight, his thrusts grew more brutal as I was rendered helpless beneath him. My ass shouted with pain-laced pleasure, stretching over and around his shallow but merciless jabs. All I could do was take it like a good boy. “That turn you on?” I continued, my face contorted by all the sensations I was feeling. “Hot fucking jock cunt?” I couldn’t even believe I was hearing myself say that. But I felt alive and hot and sexual. I wanted this. “Goddamn straight it does. Nice fucking tight pussy. Doesn’t get used much.” “No, sir,” I said, feeling the excitement of our mating, even if the friction in my hole was on the edge of this turning physically uncomfortable. “I only let real men fuck me.” That was what did it. Henson pushed off my body, leaning back on his knees once more as he held my hips in a deathgrip to powerfuck my whole body on and off his masterful cock. I stayed bent over, my hands gripping the sheets above my head as my ass stayed open and upturned. The slapping of his groin against my cheeks grew in tempo as I felt the force of his thrusts grow as well. My hole was just about numb, but my prostate felt alive as his girth plowed it from all angles. I was on the verge of sobbing – maybe from pain, maybe from pleasure, maybe from all the sensations twisting into one euphoric feeling in my nuts. It took me by surprise, but the action pushed my body into an intense orgasm. I cried out as I felt my balls tighten and my cock expand before blowing my wad against the bedding beneath me. I felt my hole clamp down on the Admiral’s thrusting cock, but it did little to stop his powerful jabs. “God fucking damn… Fuck yeah… Take it! Ugghh…. UGGHH…” he growled in the middle of my cum as he gave one, and then two, hard and deep jabs as he clenched my hips, and I knew he was having a powerful orgasm himself. I was drained and light headed when Henson finally stopped his thrusts and relaxed his body. We were both pretty out of breath. I guess he had needed that release bad. His dick felt slimy with cum as he pulled out with little fanfare, his softening fireplug cock clearing my ring with wet pop. I winced at the sudden stinging pain. I guess when the pleasure was gone, there was nothing to mask the discomfort. Like the last time, even though his dick was gone, my hole still felt agape with a throbbing tingle, not fully open, but not entirely closed up either. I could feel the trickle of cum oozing out my loosened ring and down my taint. Fuck, that was a thick dick. The Admiral’s regular personality returned as we uncoupled – stern but no longer commanding. He stayed naked as he sat in the large hotel chair as he let me clean up, sipping the rest of his whiskey while he watched me get dressed again. “You did good, pup,” he said with a satisfied smirk. His genitals hung soft and low between his meaty thighs now. “Hit me up if you ever want a repeat.” “Yeah,” I replied, too wiped out to be completely formal with him. The Rear Admiral didn’t correct me this time. I put on my coat and we didn’t kiss or embrace or even shake hands when I left. As I walked back to my place, I still didn’t know if Henson’s gruff asshole personality was a schtick he put on or his real self. Maybe it was a combination of both. I wasn’t crazy about it in the end. But during the sex itself, it was scorching hot. I thought back to what Jack Grant said, about dominant guys flipping a switch in him. I wasn’t happy that Rear Admiral Henson knew where my switch was or that he was the one flipping it. But flip it he did. **** I had a thirty minute walk home in the winter cold and the dark to think things over. My asshole felt used, a gentle kind of soreness but mostly a stretched and throbbing feeling accompanied by some wetness from the Admiral’s load. I had just my jacket and ball cap to keep me warm and now wished I’d dressed more warmly, since even the fabric of my jeans started to feel cold against my ass. But as I stuck my hands in my pockets and tightened my upper body muscle for extra warmth, it was more than the physical sensation that weighed on me. I’d followed my curiosity to see what a dominant man would be like. And, damn, Bill Henson was dominant. I liked it, I decided. Maybe not all of it. I still felt my pride was a little bruised. And I wasn’t sure what I thought of the moments of discomfort during the act itself. But I’d allowed myself to let go and I knew what Jack Grant was talking about. Letting another man take control like that, physically and emotionally. I’d cum hard being dominated and while I knew I wasn’t up for that all the time, I knew I’d want an experience like that again. At some point. I loved that I was able to have these intense sexual experiences but also worried they were keeping me from finding a guy to date. If that was even possible. I was in a confused, strange mood and wrapped up in my thoughts when I finally made it back to the apartment. I hadn’t noticed Scott’s truck parked out front, but as I opened the front door, I immediately realized Holt’s boyfriend was over. He and Holt were half sitting and reclining together on the couch watching some action movie, the living room lights dimmed so the TV provided most of the illumination in the room. It was wild to see two big dudes like that cuddled and clearly affectionate with one another, Scott’s big hairy arm draped over Holt’s meaty shoulder, and my roommate’s head nestled in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. Like the time before, both men looked comfy in their worn and beaten athletic wear – sweats and faded UVA football shirts. Both were barefoot, and I noticed Scott’s toes brushing against Holt’s calf. They looked freshly showered, Holt’s wispy brown hair in particular sticking up in multiple directions as it brushed up against the stubble on Scott’s chin. I guess tonight Scott would be sleeping in Holt’s room. Totally engrossed in the film, they looked… happy. When I shut the door behind me, both guys looked up and I noticed Scott pull back a little, sitting up in a more upright stance. Slowly, he withdrew his arm from Charlie’s shoulder and rested it across the back of the couch. “Hi Jim,” Charlie said, sitting up but with a sad, maybe annoyed look on his face. He reached for the remote, turning the volume down. It was then that I felt a little shitty that I’d been so cagey about my evening plans with Holt. I didn’t even tell Charlie how long I might be gone, let alone if I was even coming back from my hookup. So no wonder Holt made plans of his own. “Hey guys,” I replied. “Sorry to intrude on date night.” Scott gave a friendly nod. “Not intruding,” he said in that deep and mellow voice of his, polite but trying to read my reaction. Holt sat back on the sofa next to Scott, hands to himself, folding his arms across his chest, uncharacteristically shy, or maybe annoyed. Charlie and Scott had been dating since October. But in that moment before I walked in, that had been the most affectionate they’d been around me. “We can go elsewhere, so we won’t be in your hair,” Scott said matter-of-factly as he looked at Charlie. My being in the closet was making Scott more guarded around me. Holt was my best friend, and I knew I should put Holt first for once. “You guys aren’t going anywhere,” I said directly, shaking my head as I took off my ball cap, brushing my hair back. “Listen, Scott… Charlie’s been too respectful of me to tell you… but…” Oddly enough, this was still hard to say out loud. “… well, I’m gay, too.” That seemed to surprise Scott at first and he looked at me carefully for a second. It felt like coming out to my brothers all over again as I tried not to let the admission get to me. But Scott smiled. “I figured you were surprisingly cool for a straight dude,” he said as he relaxed back into the sofa, letting his arm wrap around Charlie once more. I laughed, feeling the tension release as I rubbed the back of my neck. Not only the awkwardness of interrupting them eased, but the tension from my fuck with Henson as well. The tension from sneaking around for sex. From being in the closet. It felt good to be myself with these guys. Scott was a gay athlete, just like me. Thankfully Holt laughed, too. “Thanks, McGrath.” Scott leaned his big lumbering body forward and reached for the remote to pause the movie. “Feel like joining us, Jim? I brought over some pretty good bourbon.” I didn’t want to intrude, but Charlie encouraged me. “Come on, McGrath, take a break from the goddamn books for one night.” He’d misread my hesitation, but that was OK. I took a seat on the single-seater next to the couch as Holt went to fetch some shot glasses. I again apologized to Scott for ruining their stay-in date night. But he just gave a friendly wink and poured me an inch of bourbon. Scott asked me a bunch of questions about my experience with guys and being in the closet – nothing too personal or nosy, but more supportive kind of questions. And I asked him and Holt how their dating was going – nothing too personal but supportive. It felt good to get a lot off my chest and to have guys to talk to. “I get it,” Scott said, referring to why I had to stay in the closet. “I was a bit of a late bloomer when it came to guys,” he explained. His central Virginia accent was coming out as we sipped our bourbon. “In retrospect, not lasting in the NFL was the biggest blessing I had.” Back in the early 90s, Scott Underwood was the golden boy of UVA football. Hell, Holt knew who Scott was even before they began dating. Charlie rubbed Scott’s bicep in an affectionate, empathetic way. It was wild to see Holt in boyfriend mode. My roommate chuckled. “I gotta tell ya Jim, Scott’s got some wild stories about exploring sex with guys after college.” Scott half-denied it. “Not that wild,” he blushed, “but I had some fun, all right.” “I bet,” I said. “Seems like athletes are popular with gay guys.” It was probably a dumb thing to say. Or a correct thing to say but maybe obvious. Scott laughed. “Yeah… you pretty popular with the guys, Jim?” Not flirty with me, but Scott had this easy familiar way about him. It was the whisky talking, or letting me talk. I got a boastful, playful grin. “It’s taken me a while to realize it, but yeah, a lot of guys seem to be into me for that reason. Like they want me to play a role for them or something.” “Warning, Scott,” Holt cracked wise. “McGrath gets all philosophical when he’s drunk.” Scott chuckled, then turned back to me. “You don’t like playing that role?” Or maybe it wasn’t a question but an observation. I thought about it for a second. “Actually, I think I like it,” I smirked. Holt laughed. Maybe I was a little drunk. I took another sip. “So… when did you guys know you were interested in one another?” Scott got an impish smile. “The day Charlie turned in his application at the store.” Scott looked over at Holt and nudged their shoulders together. “Saw this cute little football stud and thought, hell yeah…:” Now it was Holt’s turn to blush. “I didn’t even think you noticed me, Boss man.” “Oh, I noticed you,” Scott said, correcting him as he set his meaty mitt on Holt’s thigh through his sweats. “I just wasn’t sure you’d be into an old man like me.” Holt let out a laugh. “Babe, I was crushing on you SO hard.” Holt described how he was set to close the store one night alone and how Scott came up with an excuse to drop by after closing to check up on things. They were vague on the details, but Charlie told me before how he’d given Scott multiple Bulldozer Specials in that back office. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out the rest. Our talk went from being gay athletes, to relationships, to family, and finally… to sports. Holt had been my best friend since freshman year, but that night Scott Underwood became a good friend, too. When I finally made it to bed, heavily buzzed and relaxed, I could hear Charlie and Scott across the hall behind the shut bedroom door. Charlie’s muffled words battled with Scott’s deeper animalistic groans. And quickly, Charlie’s moans grew louder. From the sounds, I knew Holt was getting the shit royally fucked out of him. I didn’t want to eavesdrop, but I was just glad that Holt and Scott could be themselves around me. Besides, the bourbon soon had me dozing off despite my hardon. I was just about asleep when I heard Charlie sounding like he was having the orgasm of a lifetime.

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