I zeroed in on Rory Allen the first time I saw him. Tall, thin and with a great smile, Rory didn't fit my usual style of man. Maybe it was his rakish grin or the way he carried himself with a slightly amused smirk. Rory viewed the world as an endless source of entertainment. That attitude attracted me, even if he was too tall, not as buff as I prefer and straight.
It had taken three exchanges of rooms before I bunked with him. I had caught on to what Rory was doing. The barracks varied in size with most of the rooms sleeping six soldiers. There was one smaller room designated for only four bunks. I watched as Rory swapped and traded roommates. The married soldiers were still required to maintain a bunk in the barracks, even if they spent most of their evenings living off post with their wives and families. For inspections or alert status, the married soldiers were required to sleep in their bunks. Rory was jockeying for a room to himself and had spent three months lobbying married soldiers to claim a bunk in his room. For a month, his plan had worked, too. Three married soldiers agreed to claim bunks in his Rory's room as their official bunks for nights when they were not allowed to sleep in their billets. When one of those soldiers got promoted and had to leave the unit, it left an open bunk it Rory's room. After a talk with our platoon sergeant, I claimed it.
"You fucked up my good deal," Rory growled at me the day I moved in. It was one his rare moments of looking pissed off.
"Come on, you knew it wasn't going to last," I told him and then softened the blow by suggesting we rearrange the furniture. The rooms in the barracks were empty boxes without closets. The army issued beds which could be turned into bunk beds. That's what we did for the two married soldiers. Our closets were stand-up wardrobes. Rory and I positioned our wardrobes and dressers to form partitions in the room. By the time we were done, the square space was divided into two small bedrooms and an open space where we put a sofa we found and the TV. When I added a small refrigerator and DVD player, Rory's complaints ended.
President Clinton's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy kept me in the closet. No one asked and I didn't tell, but Rory wasn't fooled. One drunken night two weeks after the move, he told me, "I've been in theater since the first grade. I don't care if you're gay." I reminded him I wasn't allowed to admit it and he laughed. "I won't tell if you won't tell." I knew I had made the right choice in roommates but another two weeks passed before I admitted I women didn't do anything for me.
"I didn't want to be this way," I told him during a night filled with confessions. "I used to try jerking off to Playboys, but it never did anything for me. Well, the ads that showed guys did. I liked their fashion articles." Rory laughed at me. It was not a cruel laugh. His acceptance of me was without conditions, but it was what he said next that got my attention.
"Well maybe I've fallen off the path of being straight a few times," he confessed.
"Oh really?" I asked, eager for details he barely provided.
"I might have fooled around with another guy a couple times."
"Did you like it?" I asked.
"I came. He came. So yeah, I guess it was good," was all he offered.
During our downtimes, Rory watched one of two kinds of movies on the DVD player. Either he was watching porn or an action flick. Sometimes he tossed a horror movie into the mix but not often. His porn was always straight porn. That was the only kind that made the rounds inside the barracks. I wasn't a fan. As soon as he started one of his porn movie marathons, I would stay in the cubicle we had formed from furniture and keep myself busy to the passionate sounds of porno after porno. We did what we could to respect each other's space.
"Doesn't that get to you after a while?" I asked him during one of his Saturday afternoon movie marathons. He was sitting on the sofa we had found in running shorts and t-shirt. I could see the long, eager looking lump barely contained inside his running shorts.
"What do you mean? Do I get hard? Yeah and as soon as you leave, I'm going to jerk-off." He rubbed the front of his pants. Was he doing it for my benefit?
"You know, you don't have to wait for me to leave," I joked.
"You just want to see me naked," he scoffed and laughed. "You could do it with me if you want."
"Not my kind of jerk-off material," I said.
"Why not? There's lots of guys and lots of dicks. Can't you just focus on those?"
"Not with her in the way," I said. I know there's straight people who can't stand the sight of gay material. For me, it worked in reverse. No matter how hot the guy is, seeing him kissing and fucking a woman ruins it for me.
"What if there were more guys? I think I've got a gangbang video here."
"If she's getting fucked, I'm bored," I said. I leaned against the back of a wardrobe while he fished through a stack of DVDs.
"Let's see about this," he said. He swapped out movies, fast forwarded through scenes of a woman getting fucked by a squad of guys and returned it to regular speed when she was on her knees in front of her fuck partners. The squad of men circled around her and began pulling on their pricks. She sucked a few and tugged on the others as they took turns standing next to her and spraying their orgasms against her face, neck and chest.
"Lucky bitch," I said. Rory was right. He had gotten my attention.
"Wishing that was you on your knees?" he asked. He rubbed the front of his shorts again.
"Hell yeah," I admitted. "Look at all those dicks!"
He laughed. "Told you I could find something you'd like."
I started getting hard. Was it because Rory was hard or the movie? A combination of both, I'm sure, but did it matter? I rubbed the front of my pants, too. "You suck, you know that?" I told him.
"You pull out yours and I'll pull out mine," he said.
I looked at him for a long moment. I could see his need and I felt mine. I was hard and needy. "It's been too long," I said. "I don't really like jerking off."
"You like watching other guys jerking off?"
I shrugged. He laughed again, calling my bluff. "I like watching more than doing it."
"Yeah, well unless you do it, I'm not doing it." His hand hadn't left the front of his pants. Of course, I hadn't moved my hand away the front of my pants, either.
"You'd freak if I did it," I said.
"Or I'd help," he said and that sealed the deal for me. I was sure what he meant by helping. Was letting me watch him do it help? Was he hoping to get me started and turn it into a free blow job for himself? I stayed a couple feet away from him as I undid my jeans and pushed them down my thighs. I wasn't wearing underwear. As soon as my jeans left my waist, my long, thick prick was available for Rory to see and his eyes went right to it. "Damn dude, you're hung."
"I'm okay," I said though I know I'm bigger than a lot of guys. I'm not swinging a monster between my legs, but I'm going to embarrass myself in a roomful of men, either. I nodded at Rory. "What about you?"
"Oh yeah, sorry," he said and he slipped off his running shorts. I had already guessed he wasn't wearing underwear and I was right. I was pleased to see Rory's pricked rivaled my own in length and girth. He was long enough that if I tried to suck him, I could treat him to a deep throat. Not all guys are long enough to get that treatment.
I caressed my cock. Rory picked up the DVD remote, returned to the main menu and I glanced at the TV screen long enough to see him choose the special feature "Pop-Shots." Like a lot of adult DVDs, this one featured an endless loop of all the orgasms. The room filled with a sound my ears recognized. I heard the sounds of male orgasms happening one after another. The female talent was thankfully quiet as the guys took turns cumming on her. I spent more time watching Rory than the movie. It occurred to me, he was doing the same thing. His eyes stayed locked on me jerking off.
"Fuck, I'm close," I said. I hadn't lied to him about how infrequently I jerk off. I'd rather wait until I had a partner. I wasn't sure if this counted as having a partner, but it didn't feel as lonely. Finding a partner, for me, meant heading off post, into town and hoping I could hook-up. Sometimes I did and sometimes I didn't. Last weekend, I didn't, so I had a backlog of need built up inside of me. "So close," I groaned as I felt my orgasm welling up inside my balls.
"Well shit, don't waste it," Rory said. Moving quickly, he rolled over the arm of our sofa and landed in a kneeling position in front of me. Before I could react, he pushed my hand away and engulfed my throbbing prick inside his mouth. I came and coated his tongue.
"Fuck that was good," he said. He raised his palm to his mouth and licked it. I hadn't noticed it during my orgasm, but he came, too. He came in his hand and it was his orgasm he was licking up.
"Well aren't you the little cumslut," I said, unable to hold back an astonished giggle.
Rory shrugged, smirked and returned to the couch. "You mind if I change the movie back to something else?"
"Go for it," I said and I pulled up my pants. I was stunned and surprised at the turn of events. Stepping around his long legs, I sat on the couch with him. "Maybe I should give straight porn another try."
"If you're sitting on this couch, no pants allowed," Rory said and he fished for another DVD.
"Deal," I said and I took off my pants. Suddenly, the world had become much more interesting.