Alone No More

byDWSimon©

Eventually, after another quiet soak in the pool, we went to bed. I slept soundly, now that I had done some moving, even a little swimming, my body wanted to rest. But I woke up to whimpering. Grey was thrashing in his sleep again. I reached over to him, hoping to calm him so he could go back to sleep. But my touch seemed to make it worse. I removed my hand and he cried out and sat up. Whatever demon he faced at night was eating away at him. I curled my arms around him while he was still disoriented and he clung to me. Our nine-inch height difference didn't matter while lying by each other in bed. Then the sobs started. It was one of the most vulnerable moments and I watched him. He didn't want to cry and he didn't want me to see him. But he did need my comfort. He sobbed for a few minutes.

After he calmed, I asked him what he dreamt about. He stood up and I was sure he was going to walk out again. Instead he put a couple more logs on the fire and stoked the blaze so there was a little extra light in the room. He turned back to me; his thermal suit had the top three buttons undone. He sat by me on the bed and started talking.

"I was in the Army. I had enlisted because I had no clue what to do with my life. I had a girl at home and she promised to wait. It lasted for about three weeks then I got a Dear John letter. My mechanic skills were put to use and I served many tours. About six months before I got out, I was shipped to Bosnia. I was sent into the hills to work on some equipment at a sentinel post. There were a couple of families nearby in a cottage. They were refugees and had nowhere to go. So they stayed close to the soldiers, hoping to be left alone.

"I took some of my rations and a few extra things I could find to them. There were nine children and fifteen adults living in a space little bigger than this. They took me into their lives and invited me inside. I went every couple of days for a few months. Four days before I was set to leave and go home, so I could be discharged, I went to say goodbye. There were soldiers waiting. They tied me up."

Somehow I knew what came next wouldn't be pleasant. His voice was strained and he was keening and rocking as he sat.

"They killed all of them. Every last one of them died before me. I watched as each person died, trying hard to get loose and I succeeded once. I got a hold of one of the soldiers and slit his throat. Then they threatened to kill the baby. I knew they were going to kill her anyway. But …"

He had tears pouring down his face. I could tell that guilt had him in its grip. But he wasn't to blame. He was trying to help. And I listened to his horrors when someone should have long ago. And I offered comfort, a touch, a gesture, a word, when he so desperately needed it.

"I gave in and let them tie me up again. Then they killed the rest of them. They put a knife on a table out of my reach. They told me that Americans shouldn't be where they weren't needed or wanted. Then they were gone. I inched through blood to the knife and untied my hands and legs. Then I cradled that little baby in my arms, willing it not to be too late. But she wouldn't wake up."

His breath was really ragged and he was sobbing around each word.

"I went outside and dug twenty-four graves. We had found so many mass burial sights. These simple people weren't going to suffer that indignity. I dug for two days straight, but I had to cover them with rocks. But I buried all twenty-four of them. A patrol found me shortly after I covered the last body. They saw I was covered in blood and sent me to Germany to be looked over. I was out of the Army and free in a matter of days with nothing to do and nowhere to go. I came up here."

He was crying so hard. I asked if he had the same nightmare each night and he nodded. I wanted so much to help. He had my compassion and my trust. He was a good man, despite what he might think. He also had my heart. I fell in love right then and there. I kissed him. He still sobbed when I pulled away so I kissed him again. He paused. So I kissed him again. When I pulled away he was looking at me with wonder and shock warring on his face. I kissed him again. He met my lips with some pressure of his own. I pulled away again. He shook his head.

"Seth, I'm not gay. I don't--". I kissed him again. He met me harder this time. I pulled away; I wanted to see in his eyes. He kissed me. Our mouths met and he opened for my tongue. I rubbed it lightly against his bottom lip and then his teeth. Then I smoothed it over his tongue, touching, teasing, tasting.

I was hard and achy. I pushed Grey down on the bed and moved my hands to the buttons of his clothes. I made quick work of them. As each button was undone, I spread the sides and rubbed my hands along his hard muscles, warm skin, and soft hair. I lowered the warm garment off his shoulders so it pooled at his waist. I kept kissing him, moving my hands over his chest. He let me do everything. I skimmed down to his feet and pulled at his clothes until his thermal underwear was off. Then I saw all of him, gilded by the fire. Lots of soft, dark body hair and planes of hard muscle covered by warm, tanned skin. He was beautiful and for tonight, mine.

I unbuttoned my thermal underwear suit. I watched him watch the progress of my hands. As each button came undone, I revealed my body to him. I had always kept in shape; you need to be to be a pilot. I had a thick line of hair from the hollow of my throat to my cock. It only thickened in a small diamond over my sternum and around my navel. Other than that, I was bare; in no way as near as hairy as Grey.

I removed the rest of my clothes to reveal my erection. Now this is my finest feature. I have always been proud of how long and thick it is. I looked at his lap, finally seeing him. He wasn't hard. He was thick, so much thicker than I am and that is saying something. I reached out to hold him. Then I realized he was hard. He was thick. Probably had the thickest cock I had ever seen, but he was short. Maybe four inches at most, if that. But he was so hard. I rubbed my fingers over the tip and watched him shudder. I explored him with my fingers, finding out all of his secrets. He wasn't as short as I thought. He was so hairy and it was so thick and bushy that it masked him. He was beautiful.

I moved my mouth down to him and licked at his leaking, shiny tip. I kissed his head with big, open-mouthed kisses, tugging at his flare, tasting his slit, nibbling at the thick ridge below. He moaned. Then I opened wide and moved down on him. My tongue swirled around him as I bobbed up and down. He was so thick and my jaw ached. But I wanted that sad, haunted look to go away, at least for a little while. I felt his hands start to move over my hair, bunching it between his fingers. He didn't grab me, but he caressed me. I could feel him tremble. He arched his back and his legs became restless. He kept trying to be quiet.

I pulled off him to catch my breath. I looked up at his face. His eyes were heated, glossy with need. I told him to let go, to let me know what he was feeling. Then I dove back on him. I moved up and down his shaft, squeezing and swirling his head with my tongue, letting him scrape against the back of my throat. I felt him thicken and tense on my tongue. Then I heard the most wondrous sound. Grey bellowed out my name as I felt his first jet hit my throat. I spent the next few minutes, using my mouth to bring him down, prolonging the experience for him. I tasted him and felt him soften.

I moved up his long body, nipping with my teeth and lips as I rose to his mouth. Once there I kissed him hungrily, letting him taste himself on my lips. I was throbbing, but also content to just languidly kiss him. I kept my hand on his cock, squeezing or stroking every couple of minutes, allowing the sensitivity of his spent penis quake him with aftershocks of pleasure. But in no time he became hard in my hand again.

I kissed Grey's cheek then pushed him flat on his back before straddling his hips with my knees. I braced myself over him, willing myself to yield to his thick monster. I lowered in fits and starts on him. He was still wet and oozing and he slid right to my opening, pulsing, begging for entrance. It had been so long, since my first lover, since I had taken rather than given. But I wanted this for him. Tonight was about comfort and love, giving rather than taking.

I forced myself to relax and sank on his thick staff, imbedding myself into the springy, soft hair surrounding it. He was the exact right length to rest against my prostate. The moment his shaft rubbed against that delightful bundle of nerves, I felt my body milk out a drop of clear essence. It was thick and copious, actually propelling itself out of me only to be lost in the furry carpet of his belly. I had thought him small, too short for this, but he was perfect. And I was realizing perfect in more ways than sex. I rested on him, sitting on my haunches, waiting to accustom to his thickness.

After a couple of moments, when his every heartbeat pulsed his thick tip against my trigger, I couldn't stand it anymore and began to move. Lightly, gently I swirled my hips around him, not moving in the great strokes needed to bring a man to completion, but in that slight, infinitesimal motion that makes every nerve sensitive to the point of pain. I kept swirling on him, knowing I was grinding his cock's head into near painful stimulation. I was torturing him with pleasure, but bringing myself to the brink. It wasn't what he needed, but oh my, it was what I needed.

Grey arched himself off the bed; he was resting on his heels and shoulders only. He bucked with me, trying to move harder, deeper, faster. He grabbed my hips and tried to force me away, knowing only a need to stroke, not grind. I kept calling out his name, locking my knees to his hips, refusing to give him what he needed. Then he decided to play dirty, he grabbed my cock and started fisting me. I was too close to tripping anyway and I spurt. I felt each spasm against his cock. I could feel my ring tighten and loosen on him rhythmically. He let go of me and bellowed out, but he didn't cum. I stopped, too spent to continue.

Grey grabbed my hips and flipped us over. He took my knees, still locked against his hips and pushed out and forward, bringing my ass up and out. Then he plunged into me. I could take him deeper sitting on him, but he drove himself into me, grinding, sensing a need to reach inside and find what drove me before. He pummeled me with his hips, pulsing, grinding them together until he hit my trigger. My stupor left and I looked right in his eyes. He gave me a truly self-satisfied grin and started pounding in earnest.

I should have been ripped to shreds, but he was leaked big time, I could feel it sliding down my back. I was still so hard, and he kept driving into me. But I knew it wouldn't last, flames this bright burn out awfully fast. Almost in seconds, I felt him thicken and lengthen just a bit more, just enough to completely drive me over the edge again. I felt myself trip just as I felt him twitch with the first release of his orgasm. I was clinging to his shoulders, clawing at him. I have never found my release to be so all encompassing. The room fell away and there was only Grey and I writhing in completion. Within seconds, it was over, but the after affects lasted for a few minutes.

Without even thinking, Grey rolled us to our sides, slipping out of me in the process. My head nestled on a pillow, but he was scooted further down in the bed. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his head to my chest with one arm and stroking his back with another. Slowly we drifted to sleep.

We slept that night without blankets, the fire more than warm enough. But it wasn't the sleep of the exhausted. I was fully aware of each moment around me. I had my cheek pressed into the top of Grey's head. My arm stroked his shoulders. I found myself pressing kisses to his hair just as he pressed them to my chest. It wasn't a sound sleep, but a contented, safe, satisfying one in which both dreams and nightmares couldn't intrude.

The snow stopped falling during the night, allowing the clouds to clear and moon to intrude.

Somehow I fell deeper asleep, content and sated. It was near dawn when I felt Grey push me flat on the bed. He was kissing and stroking my body. His hands and lips were everywhere at once. I was strumming with anticipation, vibrating with need and desire. I felt him move down my body, finding with his lips blindly what I most wanted him to touch. I felt him move over me, kissing and flicking with his tongue, the length and breadth of me. Small explosions went off behind my eyes.

I was fully awake now, writhing beneath his ministrations. My fingers gripped the sheets, needing an anchor to reality. Then he took me in his mouth, shallowly, haltingly. While he moved on me, his big, gentle hands stroked my belly and chest down to my thighs and hips. His shoulders bracketed my thighs, keeping me on the bed while he bobbed on me. I felt myself build, tingling and sensitized. Oh god! This was wonderful. I try to last, I try to hold off on the end, but I couldn't. He wasn't an expert, not even an amateur, but it was too much, too good. I felt myself twinge and flex inside his mouth, filling him with my release, with my soul.

Slowly my surroundings returned to me. I saw the rough-hewn ceiling and the shelves over the bed. Then I felt the bed beneath me as I trembled, quaking from the orgasm, overwhelmed with emotion.

I searched over my head, finding what I wanted. I pulled Grey by his shoulders up to face me, on his side. I kissed his lips, tasting his sweetness and myself on them. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeper. I raised my arm and snagged what I was looking for. I grabbed the silk of my underwear, searching and turning until I found a large panel of silk.

I took my bounty and reached between us, the silk sending shivers up my spine as it grazed my belly. Then I grasped him. I kept a large pocket over the head and only grasped him with my fingers, letting the large tip of him be embraced by the soft fabric. I grasped him harder, squeezing as I pulsed over him. Grey called out and wrapped himself tighter around me, cradling my head against his chest. All that soft hair tickled my nose, but I loved being pressed so possessively against his chest, hearing each deep rumble of his pleasure through the muscular wall beneath me. In no time, the silk did its job; he was trembling with release, taking my mouth, kissing me so deeply I couldn't breath. Then all of a sudden he completely relaxed, shocking me because he was asleep. I chuckled in surprise and just stroked his hair, cradling him in my arms, his big body nestled against mine and I fell asleep too.

I awoke to the sun shining on my face. I was alone in the bed. But I smelled something heavenly: ham. Grey was cooking breakfast. I grabbed my jeans and my shirt, bypassing my stained shorts. I walked behind his back, cupping myself to him, molding my body to his curves. He grunted and pulled me around to face him and kissed me before depositing me in one of the chairs around the table. He served up a huge mound of food on my plate then sat across from me. He couldn't hide his silly, almost goofy grin. But he wouldn't meet my eyes except shyly. I wondered for a minute before it dawned on me. He had been alone for seven years, no company.

I watched his face, willing him to look at me, to ease his discomfort. But the sadness was gone from his eyes at least. When he didn't look at me I started to wonder if he had ever had a morning after. Had he ever looked at a lover across a table, eating a simple meal, sharing silly grins and flirtatious smiles? Somehow I doubted if his experience delved much deeper than his own hand. I meant to ask him so many things. I wanted to bring out his charm and wit. I knew it was there, hiding, buried behind guilt. Then the most wonderful and horrid thing happened. I heard the distant sound of a helicopter. The skies were clear and they were looking for me, for the plane.

Grey looked out the window; panic taking away that boyish grin. Then I knew that I would board that helicopter alone. He looked at me, directly in my eyes. Before I could even ask him to come he shook his head at me. Then I could see him ask me to stay with his eyes. Sadly, I shook my head no as well. He got up and went outside, searching for how far away the helicopter was.

I took that opportunity to grab his book by the fire, the one he always seemed to read and I wrote something on a mostly blank page a few from his current stopping place. Then I pulled on my socks and boots. I folded up my underwear and was putting on my coat when he came back in. I walked up to him and kissed him hard; trying to give him everything I had in that one kiss. Then I gave him my underwear, begging him to understand my gesture. He blushed when he understood that I had seen him. Then I took my flare gun and flares and headed out the door and out of his sheltered valley.

Knowing he needed to remain anonymous, I moved to some trees near the damaged plane. I saw the helicopter heading in my direction and fired a flare. I knew it had seen me and it was soon setting down in front of me. I got on board and was taken down the mountain to a hospital in Everett. My leg and head were X-rayed and I was given a referral for a plastic surgeon to repair my field dressing. But I decided to keep the scar as a reminder.

A few days later, the airline I worked for wanted me to go through some tests, to make sure I could handle flying again. I met with a psychiatrist at the airport and we got on the first available flight with two first class seats on it. We ended up flying to Tucson. They wanted to make sure I was comfortable. The flight was over in two hours and I didn't even flinch when we hit turbulence. So I was scheduled to go back in the rotation in four days. I drew for it and got the Seattle to Sacramento run. I would make two flights a day, round trip. Simple, easy and something I loved to do.But my life felt empty.

I had been back for almost two months when someone knocked on my door. I opened it to a giant of a man. He was dressed in jeans and boots with a black t-shirt with a leather jacket and sunglasses. He was so very, very tall. His dark hair was cut short and gelled into a great style. There was a goatee on his face and he smiled slightly at me. He looked anxious. Then he spoke. I knew that voice.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Grey! I threw myself into his arms and pulled him into my house. I hardly recognized him. Then I was kissing him, lost in the need to confirm he existed in my door, my home. I pulled away from his lips and asked why he was here. Then he quoted from what I had written in his book: perfectly, exactly.

"If you ever decide to come down from your valley, know that you have a safe place to lie your head and give your heart. But if you never leave, know that I leave my heart with you to hopefully keep your nightmares at bay. I give you my love freely and hope that one day you will come to me."

There were tears in his eyes as he spoke. I knew it had taken immense courage for him to leave his beloved home. But he trusted me enough to wake with his nightmares and love him back to sleep.

"I read your words Seth, that afternoon. But I was afraid. But by the end of the week, I was aching and so sad I decided to join you. Then a storm came up and kept me in place for a few more weeks. I came as soon as I could."

I found myself leading him down halls, ripping clothes off the both of us until we arrived at my bed, both of us naked and hard and wanting. We spent the next two solid days in bed. We made love until we were both sore and raw from it. We laughed when it was over, thankful we were both numb. And then we were both hard again; groaning because it was ridiculous. So I grabbed him and we went and sat in my hot tub where we slowly stroked each other, looking into our eyes and kissing until our release joined the millions of bubbles in the water.

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byDWSimon© 35 comments/ 148259 views/ 120 favorites

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