A Marine Called Jason Pt. 03

There was no way I could take his cock down my throat when it was hard but I made a mental note that I would do it when he was still soft, and I would show him the joys of fucking another man. I would show him all kinds of joys. Before, at the reunion, I would've thought that he might deck me if I tried anything; I was thankful that he was such a sexy-hot and horny teenager that I knew now that he would be receptive to about anything I offered.

"Awww, Uncle Brad......awww, you don't know how good that feels.....using your tongue like that.....Geezussss, I can't believe anything could feel this good. Ohhh, suck it.....suck it, Uncle Brad.....you're gonna make me come, and you're going to get to taste my come. The real thick stuff."

I didn't know if he was that close but I was alert for the signs. He wasn't that close; he lasted for another half hour or so, although he moaned several times that I was going to make him go off. The more I played with his butt the hotter he got and the more I had to have it. In lustful desire, I got off his cock and turned him around.

"W-what're you.......Ohhhh......OHHHH.....Awwwhhhhhhhh!"

In those utterances I kissed his butt, then licked the crack of his ass, then pulled his butt muscles apart and tongued his hole. He must have been already close because within seconds, he was loosing it and I almost lost his precious load to the woodchucks.

"Awwwhhh......Oh, Goddd....OHhhh, GOddd......Awww......Awwwh, I'm gonna come! Don't stop doing that.....I'm gonna come, Uncle Brad!" he practically screamed.

I gave his asshole a few more lashes with my tongue then turned him around, just in time to see his first spasm that sent a huge thick, long rope of come sailing up in the air. It looked like a white whip lashing through the air till it landed with a soft splat and draped down the side of a small tree. His second blast hit me in the face but I captured his cock in time for the third and everything that followed. It was a lot. He filled my mouth with hot, thick come. I slathered it around the head of his cock and the stuff kept coming. Finally, his body was lurching and his legs were shaking and he was choking on his gasps.

"Oh, Fuck!" he gasped. "Ohh, Uncle Brad.....Fuck, you got it.....you got it all, man......there's no more!"

By his tone he was begging me to stop. I hung on for a minute or two longer than reluctantly pulled back off of the rubbery cock. I looked up at him as I swallowed his come.

"Aww, you're swallowing.......you're fuckin' eating it! Fuck, that's hot!"

I leaned in and sucked his cock in my mouth one more time to get the drippings that lingered in the meaty tube, then I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood up. He helped me to my feet but we were both so shaky that we collapsed to our knees.

"Geezusss, I never had anything that felt so good," he said. "And you eat my load......Fuck, that's the hottest thing I ever seen."

"Part of your load," I said. "The best part is hanging over there on that tree."

"I couldn't get turned around in time, and I couldn't hold it back.....fuck, what you were dong to my ass.......Godddd!"

"Next time I'll take your load and hold it in my mouth then give it back to you," I said.

He frowned. "I don't know if I wanta do that," he said. "I don't know if I could. It'd be like.....kissing you."

"Look at it as mouth-to-mouth," I said.

He laughed like hell at that.

We tumbled back and lay in the thick, cool grass till Hunter was recuperated.

"This is gonna be a great Thanksgiving," he said.

"I didn't plan on cooking a turkey," I said.

"Here's your turkey," he said, grabbing his big cock and waving it around. "And a couple of hot potatoes. And even some nice warm, thick gravy you can work up. Heck, I'm coming back for Christmas vacation, and every other chance I get."

"I don't want anyone to get suspicious. You dad would kill me if he ever found out about this," I said.

"He's not gonna find out, and who would ever suspect me or you either one? You're more of a stud than my dad."

"Yeah, me and your dad both got good genes," I said.

"I wonder if all of our genes taste the same?" he joked. "I should be ashamed to admit this, but......well, I've fantasized about.....doing stuff with my dad," he said.

"Don't even go there," I said.

"Why not? I tried it with you," he said.
"I'm your uncle. You can get by with it with an uncle." I didn't know how serious he was but he sounded awfully matter-of-fact talking about it.

"Okay, but if he ever gave me any inkling, even a tiny hint, I would be all over him like flies on shit."

"Just be sure, Hunter. Dam sure. Don't want to fuck your relationship with our dad," I said sternly. Suddenly it hit me what the boy was saying. HE would be all over his dad. I had to wonder, did he have leanings in my direction? I didn't ask him. I would find out in good time. If the feelings were there, they would come out.

"Can we do this again?" he asked.

"Sure. As often as you like," I said.

"Maybe I won't need that guest room you fixed up for me," he said with a grin.

"Where do you intend to sleep?" I asked with a mischievous grin.

"On top of you," he replied without a flinch.

"That could be very painful."

We were looking at each other and his was searching for something in my eyes. Then, true to his bold nature, he asked, "Would you let me fuck you, Uncle Brad? I mean, do you think you could take me?"

"It'd be a tight fit," I said.

He broke out in a wide grin. "Aww, Fuck, Uncle Brad, I can't believe we're talking like this. Can we do it now?"

"No. Tonight, in the bed," I said.

"Aw, shit, I can't wait!"

We didn't wait. At least not till nightfall. We went back to the house and went right up and tumbled into bed. Yeah, he fucked me and I took him, and yeah, it hurt like hell......he was almost tender with me, but he was so damned big.....but I wouldn't have traded one thrust of his big cock for any less pain.

Hunter came back at Christmas for a few days, all of which we spent in bed or in front of the fireplace, and most of that time was with his cock in my mouth or in my ass. I never got any reciprocation from him. I didn't care; I just wondered what was going on in his head; if he was having any more thoughts about his dad. I drove the distance to a couple of his football games and afterwards we drove out in the country and had unbridled sex.

"Do you like sweaty jocks, Uncle Brad?" he asked one time.

"Jocks or jockstraps?"

"Both."

"Yes."

"Next time I won't shower after the game," he said.

He kept me wondering like that. He had too many ideas, I thought, to be one hundred percent straight. But if he wasn't, he wasn't being gay with me. Maybe it was just youthful, horny curiosity.

I advanced in my job, quickly became general manager of six warehouses. The pay was good. I was enjoying Indianapolis and fixing up my place, and especially Hunter's visits. Then one day I got a letter that wasn't like the regular mail I received. It looked foreign. I opened it and began to read. By the second line I knew what it was and I felt a chill go through me.

Dear Mr. Courter;

I am writing this with the help of Sister Marie; she helps me say what I want to say properly. I was born in December, 1967. I am now seventeen years old. My mother's name was Ling Dwang. My father, I believe, was Chief Petty Officer Jason Seaborn, a Navy Seal who was in Viet Nam in 1967. I understand he was killed in a plane crash. My mother disappeared in the fall of Saigon. I was taken to the orphanage where I still live. Sister Marie gave me a letter that my mother gave to her, stating that Officer Seaborn was my father. I also have a letter signed by him in 1967 acknowledging that he was most likely my father. He writes in the letter that you were his best friend and that if I ever needed anything to contact you. I hope you are still at this address or that my letter will follow you to your present address. I would like very much to come to the United States if you could help me do that. I don't feel like I belong here. Please let me know if you get this, even if you decide you can't or don't want to help me come to the America, which I will understand.

Very kindly yours,

Jason Seaborn, Jr. "Jase"

There was also a note from Sister Marie.

Mr. Courter:

When Jason recently began to ask questions about his father, I decided it was time to give him the letters identifying his parentage. I implore you to seriously consider and do all you possibly can to bring the boy to the United States. As his sponsor if at all possible, if that will fit into our life, or if not, at least to initiate the paperwork and see it through the channels of red tape. You see, Jason is not considered to be Vietnamese. He is Amerasian and looked down upon in this present society. He belongs nowhere, he is not accepted among his peers. He is very lonely and lost, which is bad for this time in his life as a teenager. The place he will be accepted is on the streets, dealing in drugs, or worse, in the booming sex industry that has sprung up here. He is an exceptional boy in every way but I fear that may not long be so. I have included the phone numbers of places you should call to begin this very urgent and worth-while mission. I beg you, please save this boy's life. I/we at the orphanage have done nearly all we can do. He will soon leave us.

Most gratefully,

Sister Marie.

The End