A Marine Called Jasonbyjock161©
I waited at the bar, waiting and praying that he would show up, afraid he wouldn't. There was always that fear that gripped my guts when were to meet up.
Toby's Bar was typical of GI hangouts in Saigon; dark, smoky, not very fancy, with hookers, the whole package, except for one thing. Toby's also catered to gays. Not openly. He didn't advertise it but word got around that it was safe for gay soldiers and Marines to go there. It was enough of a mix of straights and women that the MPs never bothered the place. Of course, Toby was strict as hell about flaunting it or being too obvious. Toby was a former Marine, big and muscular, one of the original advisors sent to Vietnam. He liked it and stayed. Nobody messed with him.
I watched every guy who came through the door, if only for a quick glimpse before he was shrouded in the darkness of the bar. Toby got me another beer without me asking for it. I didn't know if he knew who I was waiting on but if he did he didn't say so.
"Did she stand you up?" he asked.
"Too early to tell," I said. That was the way it was….a lot of times he knew better but you talked in heterosexual terms. It was a code; one that even the straight guys respected if they found out about you. It wouldn't have been that way in any other bar. Toby was quick and quite capable of dealing with loud homophobia. One time there were a couple of guys who looked like raw recruits who came in with the sole purpose of finding and beating up gays. They didn't make any bones about it. They talked to each other loud enough that others could hear, as they looked around and tried to guess if this or that guy was gay. Toby put a stop to it right away. Politely at first, till one of the stupid shits had the balls to ask him if he was gay. Toby played along with them. He nodded for them to follow him back to the rest room. Moments later, there was a lot of noise back there, then the back door was slamming shut. Toby came back to the bar without a scratch. The other two guys came out, one embarrassedly nursing a bloody nose and the other one with a black eye and holding his stomach. Hell, anybody in his right mind would know better than to mess with Toby.
I didn't say who I was. Brad Courter, 19, six feet even, 196 pounds, regulation jarhead, buzz-cut Marine. My 196 pounds were good, solid muscle. Most of us were; we had a workout room right in the barracks. The guy I was waiting on was Jason Seaborn, also nineteen but his 195 pounds were spread over a five-ten frame which made him look heavier. He was Navy, which I liked to kid him was a distant cousin to the Marines. More correctly, he was a Navy Seal. Okay, you want all of it....he was a sniper.
I started to get the sweats as the night wore on. He should have been there an hour ago. My guts tightened at the thought that maybe something had happened to him. I tried to shrug it off. It was something we both understood and lived with….. him, obviously, more than me. He was the Navy Seal, doing covert ops. I was just an interpreter at Intel….interrogation…we dealt many times with the guys he sometimes brought in. I tried more than once to imagine how I would handle it if he didn't come back from one of those missions. I couldn't even think about it without getting suck to my stomach.
Finally, he was there. I recognized his very masculine frame as he appeared in the doorway and his cocky, sexy walk confirmed it. He had incredibly wide shoulders with balled muscles that looked soccer balls and big arms sticking out of a muscle shirt and his pecs protruded in two solid masses of muscle. He had a waist that made women jealous and his jeans shifted loosely around his waist, held up not by a belt but by his round, tight bubble butt. He sauntered up to the bar and slid onto the stool next to me with that crooked smile as if he weren't late at all. I didn't make mention of it either.
"You been waiting long?" he asked.
Toby brought him a beer.
"Only since noon," I said.
He knew I was kidding, probably knew I was covering up that I was worried. He turned full circle on the bar stool, I thought to check the place out and see if there was anybody he knew or who might know him. There was and he went over to a table to say hello. I was watching in the mirror over the bar. A waitress came up to the table with a half dozen beers and ran her cold hand down his bare arm. He cringed and laughed and smacked her on the ass. A hooker came up to his other side and put her arms around his waist and squeezed his butt and said something in his ear. He laughed and squeezed her butt hard and she left. It was like that with him; with all Navy Seals. They were quiet, unassuming heroes that took it all in stride. I could have been jealous except that I was happy in my own skin, and I marveled that he was as comfortable with me as he was with women. He came back to his bar stool with that little twist and swagger in his hips.
"I was afraid you wouldn't make it," I said after first looking around to see if anybody was in earshot. There was nobody except Toby and he didn't matter but you had to be always on guard about everything you said.
"I did," he said.
As always, I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of him; especially his huge arms sticking out of his shirt. Dam, they were sexy. It was easier for me to look at him in the mirror but I was still cautious.
Jason looked around the bar and asked. "Did you get a room?"
I nodded. We talked for awhile, bringing Toby into the conversation when he had time. Jason downed the rest of his beer and slid the bottle across the bar with a finality that said he was ready to go.
"Hey, Toby, if those two girls show up, tell them don't go away, we'll be back," he said in a loud voice as he stood down off the bar stool. It didn't matter whether Toby believed there really were two girls. Somehow, I think he knew better.
A dozen blocks away, down side streets and through alleys, was what was known as the Trent Hotel. It wasn't designed as a hotel. It was a two-story structure that had been converted to a maze of rooms and they put a hotel sign over the door. On the way, Jason stopped off in a gift shop. I told him the room number, two-thirty-eight, and went on to the hotel. He would spend a few minutes in the shop then leave and go down the alley and come into the hotel by way of the rear stairs. The hotel clerk knew the routine. It wasn't smart for two GIs to be seen going into a hotel together unless there were one or two women on their arms.
I went up the stairs to the room. I'd already showered and got ready for him. I took a big dose of breath freshener and took off my clothes, down to my shorts. I was waiting on the bed when he came in. He double-bolted the door behind him and went over and closed the shutters over the windows facing the street. He left the windows open that faced the alley and a blank wall but he was always careful, afraid there might be somebody spying from a window across the street.
He began taking off his clothes which always made me breathless, all the while with his eyes on me, and that thrilled me that he was so open about wanting me so. I loved everything about him; his looks, eyes, sense of humor, most of all his body. His triceps danced as he took off his boots and socks. He stood up and his arms bulged as he took off his pants. He climbed on the bed and knelt between my legs, still wearing his muscle shirt and his briefs. He crossed his arms across his chest and pulled his shirt up, his torso spreading out wide when he pulled it off over his head. I leaned up and placed my hands on his sides, high on the V where the finger-like muscles rapped around his rib cage, then on up into his hairy armpits. He tossed the shirt aside and his pecs settled thick and heavy on his rib cage when he lowered his arms. Nice hair there, too, a spattering on each side around his tits then the neat, straight line down the center of his abs, disappearing under the waistband of his shorts. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband to shove his briefs down but I stopped him.
"Wait. Leave them on…..let me look at you for a minute."
He moved his hands down to his sides and knelt there, a little awkward, with a goofy, embarrassed smile on his face. I let my eyes rake up and down his muscular body, zeroing in on his tiny briefs. They weren't regulation, although they should have been. The military would save a lot of money on material if they were regulation. There was barely anything to them; two thin strips curved up over his hip bones trying mightily to support the weight in the pouch stretched around his manhood. They barely contained his massive manhood, and stretched so low that you could see the curls of hair over the top.
"You ought to be on a recruiting poster," I said
"If I was in charge of recruiting."
"Is that enough looking?" he asked, shrugging his heavy shoulders.
"Yeah. Are you getting anxious?"
"You know it," he said.
He shoved his briefs down and lifted each knee to shove them off. His big cock hanging out proudly, not yet hard but thick and meaty, with a network of bulging veins. My breath caught in my throat. His cock was easily six/seven inches, with a network of bluish veins under the silken sheath that gave it a bit of a gnarled, virile look when he was hard. He never got hard fast. It was like he took his time, no big rush, it would be hard when the time came.
"I don't know how you carry all that around," I said.
He laughed as he ran his hands up and down my thighs several times then tugged at my shorts. I raised up so he could take them off of me. I watched his muscles bulge and ripple and it was a moment of feeling ravished as he stripped me naked. He tossed my shorts to me and his eyes shifted to my own cock but didn't linger. He was just noticing, with no particular desire for it except that it made me a man and a man was what he wanted. But there was desire in his eyes.
"Godd, you look good to me," he said as he leaned up over me on his hands and knees and clamped his mouth over my right pec. I gasped and moaned as he flicked my tit with his tongue then sucked on it. The after-shave bristle on his face felt good.
"Your tits getting bigger?" he asked.
"If they are, you made them that way," I said. They would get bigger with him sucking on them.
He reached down and lifted my left leg around his hip and I lifted them both, tilting my butt up for him. He slid his cock up and down the crack of my butt, made slick with his precome. His cock was hard now. Hard and big. Hard and HUGE. I trembled a little inside with the familiar anticipation.
"I know you like some foreplay but I'm so damned horny," he said, poking his cock at the slick hole.
"I've told you the foreplay is seeing you come through the door, watching you take off your clothes and walk toward the bed. It's all the foreplay I need."
"You're something else, you know that? So dammed unselfish."
"I'll be anything you want me to be." I said
I felt the pressure of his cockhead against my clenching hole. He picked up my shorts and handed them to me. He was always afraid I would make too much noise.
"I'm okay," I said.
"I like to see 'em in your mouth," he said.
I let him stuff my shorts in my mouth. He pushed and I pushed my asshole back at him with that little twinge of fear that always came over me the moment before I was about to be penetrated and impaled on the huge cock. I tried not to remember the pain. I could feel the awesome power behind his cock, drawn from his tight, hard butt muscles. Suddenly his cock popped through, leaving me wide-eyed as it always did when he entered me, a lot of it from the excruciating pain. He barely paused before he sank all the way in me, all ten-plus-maybe-eleven inches, up to his balls.
"Ohh, Goddddd!" I moaned softly as his cock throbbed deep inside me. The weight of his balls felt wonderful against my butt.
"Ohhhh, Fuucckkk! I've wanted this so bad," he gasped. He held still with his cock buried deep in my guts. "You okay?"
I pulled my shorts out of my mouth. "You always ask that and what do I always say?"
"But I know it hurts," he said. "Tell me it doesn't hurt. You can't hide it, hard as you try."
"It hurts like hell, but not for long and nothing I can't handle," I assured him.
He squeezed his butt muscles several times, forcing his cock to nudge at my innermost being, then slowly he withdrew most of the way then slid back in several times; then he set his rhythm and he was fucking me.
"Ohhh…..Ohhhhh…..Awwhhhh," I moaned softly.
"Ohh, yeah….you are so hot and tight," he whispered.
"That's a true miracle, considering the size of your cock stretching me," I said.
"You must have muscles in your shit, to be so tight after all these times," he said. "And so alive! Fuck, it feels like a bunch of tiny fingers squeezing my cock."
He leaned over me and kissed my chest as he fucked me with a steady rhythm. He kissed down my abs then back up across my chest and along the side of my neck. I turned my face toward him a little but he moved back down my chest. He always avoided my face. He raised up and looked down at his cock going and in and out of me. "Fuck, that is so hot, watching your asshole squeeze around my cock, watching it stretch and pull out when I pull back. Looks like it's gonna turn inside out."
"It feels like it," I said.
He leaned down and began kissing my chest again. He really liked my tits. He loved making them swell so he could suck and nibble on them. He kissed back and forth across my chest, down my abs to the safety point where he didn't get too close to my cock, then moved his full lips up across my chest to my neck. His lips sent shivers all through me. When he was kissing up my neck again….lingering there…..I broke the spell.
"Go ahead," I said.
"Go ahead and what?' he asked.
"Kiss me. I think you want to. It's all right."
He trailed his lips back down to my chest and sucked my tits again. Then he raised his head and looked at me. His thick, powerful neck was so sexy and it made me weak inside, he was so handsome.
"I wish you hadn't said that," he said hoarsely.
"Why?" I was afraid I'd fucked things up. I well knew how macho he was and maybe the idea of two guys kissing turned him off.
"I was afraid you wouldn't want me to," he said.
"How come you didn't want me to say it?" I asked.
"Because now there's nothing stopping me," he said. He lowered his head, his face close to mine. His eyes shifted all around as if he were trying to recognize me, then his eyes met mine. We gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment; I think a moment of indecision for him.
"I may never do this again but I want to do it once," he said.
I think I whinnied when his lips brushed over mine, or maybe it was him, or both of us. I didn't kiss him back at first. I didn't want to appear too eager; I wanted him to lead the way down this new path of pleasure. I wanted the experiment and the experience to be all his. He flicked his tongue out and traced back and forth on my lips. I let them go slack and he took my lower lip between his. I whinnied softly as he washed it with his tongue. When he parted, my lips were parted to welcome his tongue. When our tongues touched and sent a shiver through me I began kissing him back. He lashed his tongue around mine and I sucked it into my mouth. It was definitely him who squealed when I did that. It turned into a long, experimental kiss, with more passion than I think either of us expected. It was almost more an act of love making all by itself. Finally he broke away with a tiny gasp, his head hung.
"Geezuss, I wish I hadn't done that," he said.
"Because I liked it."
"You liked it but you didn't want to," I said.
"That was hotter than any kiss I remember with a woman."
"I guess I shouldn't say I'm glad."
He bent me more in half, my legs spread out wide, and pressed his body down against mine. Our muscles strained and flexed and slid together with our sweat. He fucked me, using long, steady strokes, his great cock gouging out the inner-most depths of me. I was always amazed how I was able to take his huge meat so deep. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hung on. I kissed the hard column of his muscular neck.
"You feel so fuckin' good….your muscles….its so different from the softness of a woman," he said.
"Careful what you say, you might get to liking it too much," I joked.
"I already do," he said, he said, laughing.
He fucked me hard, he fucked me gentle, he was on the way to fucking my brains out.
"I gotta come. I wanta come so bad," he whispered. "I'll fuck you again but I have to drop this load I've been carrying around."
"Give it to me," I said. He picked up his pace and I hung on for dear life and clamped my open mouth against his neck as he pounded me unmercifully with his big cock. I wished he had clamped his mouth over mine so we could have kissed all through his climax. I held him tight, his muscles flexed hard and rippling, till suddenly he gasped and moaned and trembled and half sobbed. Then his cock was shooting great loads of hot semen deep inside me. It took a long time for him to empty his balls; he had a lot to come. I fought to hold off myself. He would want to fuck me again pretty quick and I wanted to be ready and still primed for him. He hovered over me, his great chest heaving and his abs rippling with his heavy breathing. Beads of sweat dripped off his forehead.
"How long have you been saving that?" I asked, holding him close with my arms and legs around him.
"Since last time with you." He slowly withdrew his cock and toppled off to lie beside me, as if he didn't want the intimacy now that he had come. He was sometimes like that. He wasn't exactly loving when we were together and I was surprised when he shoved his arm under my pillow and pulled me close. He needed this so much. Part of his sexual intensity was the release of all the pressure that he had to leave behind. It was as if all his fears and emotions were drained out of him when he shot off. It was hard for me to imagine Jason being afraid of anything but he told me he was, a lot, when he was out there.
"It's always so intense after so long a time," he said.
"The last time was only a week ago," I said.
"You don't know how long my weeks are."
"No, I don't. I don't think I could do what you do," I said.
"Maybe, but what you do is just as important. It wouldn't do me any good to bring them in if there wasn't somebody skilled in getting information out of them."
"There must be a lot of them you don't bring in," I said.
He paused. "Most of them I don't. Most of them they just want taken out. But it's their call," he said nonchalantly. "All they have to do is drop their weapon, drop to their knees and put their hands on top of their heads. Except if they've done anything stupid, like killed or wounded one of our guys. Then I don't give a fuck what info they've got, they're wasted."
I could feel his muscles tighten even as talked.
"You're just doing your job," I said. I never knew what to say when he talked about it.
"Yeah, fuckin-A-right, just doing the job. And I'm dam good at it," he said. Then he changed the subject. "I'm sorry I was so selfish and went off so quick, but I needed it," he said.
"I could tell, you were so intense."
"I'll fuck you again and we'll take our time. I'll find your spot and drive you up the walls."
"You do that anyway," I said.
We lay quietly for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling fan.
"You know, sometimes, when I'm laying out there waiting for a shot, I let my mind drift back to the time before with you. Sometimes I think that's what gets me through it."
"This is the first time you've even mentioned that you're a sniper," I said.