Samuel

The only question was how far he'd let me go. He didn't protest when my hands drifted to his sides, nor when they glided over his narrow hips. I figured his perfect, round, rock-hard ass would be the limit, but he only stiffened a little as I crept my way onto it, and he actually relaxed by the time I was done.

So I kept going. I dropped down to my knees and slowly worked my way down his muscular legs. Even his calves were big and cut and well shaped.

At last I was done, much to my disappointment. I hadn't noticed until I stood up, but my cock was more than a little swollen. When he turned, my better judgment failed me.

"Do your front?" I said. There was a long pause.

"Yeah," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

If touching his back had turned me on, touching his chest was like foreplay. Michelangelo would have been proud to have carved Sam's torso. By the time his pecs were thoroughly moisturized I was way past teasing. Had he been ready for it, he could have fucked me right then.

His abs drove me crazy. I think I put all the lotion on them with my fingertips, and I probably did every inch of them at least twice. My hands actually started toward his completely-erect cock, but he twitched back and I stopped.

I didn't hesitate to drop to my knees when I'd finally exhausted the time I could reasonably spend fondling his obliques. His thighs were magnificent, but honestly it was pretty tough to concentrate on them with his cock right in front of my face. It was hard enough that it had a drop of pre-cum at the tip. And it was gorgeous. Long and thick and perfectly shaped, with the head just peeking out of the foreskin at full mast. It jumped at one point, and I realized my face was close enough that he'd felt my breath.

I didn't even get up when I was done. I just laughed and fell back onto my ass, my own cock as hard as his.

"Jesus fuck, man," I said. "You were chiseled out of stone by a sex maniac. Never change your workout. Ever. Just do exactly what you do right now for your whole life."

"Fuckin' Kenny," he said, laughing and falling back onto a chair. "I almost said something about your shoulders, but it seemed like too much. Ain't nothing too much for you, though."

"Not much, no."

Returning to our room had become like some kind of Pavlovian conditioning. I started to get hard as soon as afternoon muster was over. By the time we headed for the shower the next day- simultaneously this time- hiding under a towel was a bit problematic. We watched each other wash, which was a huge reason not to shower together and one that I filed away. Too many guys in that shower, all the time.

"You first," he said when we got back to the room. He tossed me the lotion bottle, his towel already on the floor.

All that stuff I wrote up there about touching his body? That. Again. No loss of effect for being repeated. I was beside myself with lust by the time I stood up after finishing his legs. He did my back again, and I was literally holding my breath to see if he'd keep going.

He did. My erection bobbed in front of me as he rubbed the lotion into my ass, and when he came around in front I saw that his cock was as hard as mine.

"Damn," he said. "I, ah... oh, fuck it."

He touched my chest and torso as languidly as I'd done with his. And he was completely rapt, I really thought he might kiss my chest a couple times.

He stayed on his knees for a minute when he was finished. His eyes were locked on my very, very hard cock.

"Hey," he said. "You trim your hair down here, right?"

"Yeah."

"Why? So it looks bigger?"

"That doesn't hurt any. But also because I don't like flossing when I go down. Least I can do if I'm going to ask someone to trim their pubes is keep my own nice and neat."

"You shave your nuts?" he said.

"Yeah. Got a special little electric just for that."

"Show me how?" he said.

"Sure," I said. I got out my clippers and my little electric body groomer, but when I started to turn them on my crotch, Sam stopped me.

"Your junk is clean," he said. "It's mine that's a mess."

I grinned and leaned back against my locker.

"Yeah, all right," I said. "But the word of the day is reciprocation."

"That's a big word," he said, returning my grin.

"And fraught with meaning."

"Fraught. Who says fraught?" he said, then took on the worst snooty English accent ever. "I say, my good man, your choice of vocabulary is positively rife with implication."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "You gonna fondle my cock or what?"

"You first," he said with a laugh.

It was the third time I'd been on my knees in front of him. And the third time I couldn't do what I really wanted to while I was there. I was very, very careful to maintain a casual air, figuring open lust would end the game.

Not that I didn't have a good time. He gasped when I gently took his half-erect cock in my hand. I didn't exactly stroke it as I moved it around to get access to his big balls and his pubic bush and his perineum, but I didn't exactly not stroke it, either. It should probably take... what, five minutes? ...to trim that area. Took me maybe twenty. By the time I was done he was breathing hard and didn't seem far from getting off.

"Okay," I said. "One high and tight. Don't forget to tip your barber."

"I almost did," Sam said, then immediately looked embarrassed for saying it. Which I didn't help by grinning at him for a long few seconds, until he finally broke and laughed.

"Hell," I said standing up and offering the tools. "If you think that was fun, wait'll you get your hands on mine."

He took the tools readily enough, but then just stood there staring at my cock.

"Come on," I said. "Kneel before Zod."

He cracked up, but after another second he got down on his knees.

As significant as it is to touch anyone's naked junk for the first time, it's that much more profound when there's all that garbage about same-sex activity in the way. Sam actually sighed when he took my hard cock in his hand, and he didn't even seem to be aware of it. I didn't tease him. After all, I was only weeks from my own first time getting sexual with a man.

He went slowly, if not quite as slowly as I'd done. And even though he never touched it, his cock stayed proudly erect the entire time. By the time he finished his tentative first touch had become a more sure grip, and he kept hold of it until he'd stood up.

"Okay," he said. "Wasn't really much to take off."

"Nah," I said. "I try to be a classy bitch."

Sam laughed and beat a retreat to his bed, and I mostly left him alone the rest of the evening. Neither of us got dressed, though.

The next couple nights we repeated the lotion routine, with the addition of putting it on each other's cocks. We had to be the two softest-skinned guys in the Navy. And the two horniest. I know I wasn't masturbating, and if he was he was sneaking out of the room to do it. Spending a solid hour every night with some degree of an erection and no satisfaction at the end had me about ready to fuck a knothole in a tree.

It was Sam, again, that next raised the level. He was standing behind me, working on my shoulders and arms, having this time gone bottom-to-top up my legs and back. I breathed a laugh as he ran his hands down my biceps.

"See," I said. "I can't even reach the front of your arms when I do your back. I lose track of how much bigger you are until we get this close."

Our size difference really was enormous. My last big growth spurt came after my eighteenth birthday. By the time I left the Navy I was around 5'10" and 180lbs, but when I enlisted I was only 5'7"-ish and in the 140lb range. Which means Sam was half a foot taller than me and maybe sixty pounds heavier. Out in the world I didn't notice it so much. My competitive streak just registered bigger people as challenges. In close, especially naked, it was like we were different species.

"Hell," Sam said. "I could reach your chest and abs from here, too."

He gently pulled me against his chest. His cock, which was completely erect, pressed against my ass. When his arms slid around me to caress my chest it drew an involuntary sigh out of me, and it was everything I could do not to lay my head back on his shoulder. He took his time, his warm breath on my neck, and when his hands finally reached my cock they definitely gave it a few strokes that weren't strictly required for moisturizing purposes. And he didn't immediately step back after letting go of it. His hands drifted back up to my chest, still holding me close, and I was keenly aware of his erection against my ass.

"Yeah," I said, my voice thick. "This is much more efficient. You should definitely do it like this more often."

He breathed a laugh, so close it was like he was blowing on my neck. I didn't quite swoon. Not quite.

"All right," he said, almost whispering it in my ear. "But what are you gonna do? You gotta jump up to reach my knee."

"Right? But I better come up with something, or you're gonna win this round."

He laughed at that. His arms were hadn't moved, so I turned around without stepping away, leaving us chest to chest and cock to cock. He still didn't let go. We grinned at each other, inches apart.

"If you're playing chicken," I said, reaching awkwardly for the bottle of lotion, "you're going to lose."

"Huh uh," he said, grinning.

I was able to reach around him pretty well, of course. Which doesn't mean I did it quickly or efficiently. Doing the top of his shoulders and the back of his neck with my arms around him can't be called anything but an embrace, and if it had been tough to keep my head clear with his breath against my neck, resisting the urge to kiss his beautiful face just inches from mine was a conscious act of will.

His hands slid down to my waist when I leaned back far enough to rub the lotion into his chest, but he still didn't let go. Nor did I make any pretense of being anything less than sensual about the task. Once I'd rubbed the lotion in I spent maybe five minutes tracing the outlines of his well-defined muscles before grinning up at him and tweaking his nipples.

His laugh faded to a moan as I slid down to my knees, dragging his cock slowly along my chest and letting it bump off my chin. I know he could feel my breath while I reached around to fondle his ass at some length. And when I finally took his balls in one hand and his cock in the other, his knees started to buckle. Just seconds later, before I'd really even started playing with his big, sexy equipment, he reached down and stopped me.

"Whoa," he said. "Hold up."

"What?" I said. Then I caught on and laughed. "Uh oh. I warned you."

"Nah, nah," he said. "You'd only win if you went further. You don't get points 'cause I've got blue balls."

"You almost gave me a facial. You want to win, feel free to put more lotion on my cock."

I stood up, still holding his cock, his hand still keeping mine from moving.

"Or," I said, "just move your hand for about thirty seconds and I'll give you the win. I mean, I'll call you minute man, but I'll give you the win."

"Let go," he said, laughing. When I did he flopped down on his bed, cock slapping against his stomach.

"You ain't kidding about the blue balls," I said. "I bust a nut right now we'll need a bucket to clean it up."

"For real," he said. "Feels like I been hard for a month."

Could I have made the move right then? Yeah, probably. But at eighteen I hadn't spent any points on Seduction yet. We both went to bed pent up. Again.

The next night was a repeat, albeit with Sam more on point, ready to stop my hand the instant the lotion was on his cock. The closeness and the caresses were driving me out of my mind. In a good way, of course, but out of my fucking mind.

He caved to the tension first. I woke up somewhere in the small hours, hearing something indistinct, and realized that my covers had been pulled back. I was naked, semi-erect, and on full display by the moonlight streaming in our window. And when I looked to see what the soft noise was, the reason for my exhibition became clear. Sam was sitting on the side of his bed, staring at my body and jacking off. He was obviously trying to be quiet, his breath coming in little suppressed gasps. He was also obviously very close to cumming.

It was all too much for my self restraint. When I sat up he jumped about three feet. But when I stood and put a hand on his chest to push him down onto his back, he went without resistance. I sat on the edge of his bed, took his cock in my hand, and set about finishing what he'd started.

"Just a dream," I whispered. "We won't even remember it tomorrow."

His cock was hot in my hand, and his perfect abdominal muscles jumped when my thumb slid across his glans. Clearly this was not going to take long.

Sure enough, after only a few minutes his abs started flexing and his cock swelled. The orgasm, when it took him, was huge. He shot better than half a dozen long, thick ropes of cum all the way up onto his chest, and he kept pumping for a long few seconds even after that.

For all the sexiness of his body and for all the fun of really working on his cock for the first time, it was his face I watched as he came. We were looking each other right in the eye. When he'd finally come down enough to focus, I grinned and winked and got him a towel, then rolled back into my rack.

"Night, Samuel," I said. He just groaned a laugh and made no answer.

We went through our morning routine in a sort of grinning awkwardness. The only acknowledgment of what had happened was Sam feigning throwing his cum-encrusted towel at me when he got up. No comment was made until we were sitting in the galley at lunch and someone started going on comically about how horny he was.

"Yeah," said Sam amidst the group's laughter. "I had a sex dream last night. Don't really remember it, but it must have been hot. Even with jackin' off I woke up horny."

Everyone laughed and a few of the guys acted disgusted that he'd admitted to masturbation. Doubtless they were the guys who beat it constantly.

"Best look out, Kenny," said a big islander named Shawn. "He's gonna be shootin' it all over your room. Might wanna wear foul weather gear to bed."

He mimed stroking an enormous cock, jerking it around like it was out of control and spraying everyone at the table.

"Nah," said a Filipino kid named Manny. "You heard him. That didn't get it done. Kenny needs to sleep with one eye open. Sammy's a big dude."

"Remember," said Shawn, "it ain't gay if it's angry."

Everyone laughed, me included. Even so, I was careful not to look at Sam. My return fire waited until we got back to the room. He walked in just ahead of me, and the second the door latched I grabbed his ass hard with both hands and shoved him up against his locker.

"What the fuck?" he said.

"Don't worry, big guy," I said. "It ain't gay if it's angry. I'll just have to slap your cock around next time it needs attention in the middle of the night."

"Fucker," he said with a laugh. "Get off me. Let's get naked. Oh, oops, I mean showered."

He was grinning widely as he stripped down.

"You know," I said, "we're gonna have to start doing our studying in the lounge. Second we get to the room it gets... ah... angry."

"Shut up," he said, but he was laughing when he said it. Ten minutes later we were back in the room, clean and shiny. And naked.

This time Sam stood facing me as he rubbed me down, his touch lingering on my cock and ass. And once again, when he was finished he left his arms around me for a while. This time it was simply an embrace, chest to chest, my arms around him, too. When I finally got around to grabbing the lotion I spent probably five full minutes putting it on his back.

"Hey," I said when I couldn't justify fondling his butt anymore. "Sit down on the couch."

He did, looking at me curiously. The arched brow turned into a big grin when I sat down astride his lap, facing him.

"Damn," I said. "You really are a big motherfucker."

There was barely a pretense that it was about moisturizing his skin. I put the lotion on, to be sure, but when it was well and truly rubbed in I still sat there, slowly stroking his cock with one hand and touching his chest and abs with the other.

I fully expected Sam to stop me as he'd done before. But not this time. He watched me stroke him for a long time, then gently took my cock in his hand. A moment later his other hand moved down to my balls. No doubt about it, we were officially jacking each other off.

Needless to say, it didn't take long. I'd been pent up for weeks, and he was little better off. And I was staring into the eyes of far the sexiest person I'd ever touched. Love to tell you it went on for an hour, but I'd be lying.

It was his empathy, of all things, that sent me over the falls. A few minutes after he started stroking me he started to look absolutely ecstatic, like he was about to cum. When I realized that what he was doing was staring at my face and unconsciously mirroring my expression, it was too much. I came all over him. My balls emptied their weeks of frustration in a torrent.

Sam joined in before I'd even finished. It actually took me a second to realize I wasn't the only one groaning, and I barely had enough coherence to keep stroking him through his orgasm. By the time we were both finished the poor guy was absolutely soaked with cum.

It took a while for clarity to return to my brain, but when it did I watched Sam curiously. Sometimes guys magically turn straight again in their refractory period. And I'd gone to bed without seeing his reaction the night before.

I needn't have worried. He never even let go of my cock. While I was watching his face he was staring down at my lap, gently milking the last drops out of me and lightly fondling my balls. It took a couple minutes for him to even look up at me, and when he did the lust on his face was raw and undeniable.

And, once again, too much for my self control. Without thinking it through, I leaned in and kissed him. Not hard and not for long, but an unmistakably romantic kiss. We both froze, and I held my breath for what seemed like an hour, waiting to see if I'd ruined everything.

"Well," he said, "that was definitely the next level."

"Yes it was," I said.

"Pretty angry level," he said.

"Yes it was," I said, grinning widely.

"Don't be grinnin' at me," he said, smiling himself. "I'm having an existential conflict."

"You exist," I said. "Conflict resolved. And just so I'm clear: You're soaked in nut and still holding my dick, but it's a little peck on the lips that's freaking you out."

"Hey," he said. "I been thinking about your dick for a while now. Had my hands on it, got used to it. Kind of like it, even though it just spit all over me."

"Kind of?" I said. "Please."

"But," he said, ignoring my interruption, "this is new. I hadn't thought about kissing you."

"Liar."

He tried to retort, but all that came out was a laugh.

"Uh huh," I said. "And yet here we are talking instead of doing."

"Yeah, all right," he said. "Let's see. Do it again."

I tried for teasing and light, but we were way too into each other for that. The first touch of our lips was exploratory. The second was more intense. The third had all the carefully repressed energy of weeks of flirtation and play. His mouth opened the instant mine did, and he moaned when our tongues met.

It was quickly apparent that he liked to be the aggressor, and I was happy to let him. His tongue pushed into my mouth forcefully and the hand that wasn't holding my cock came up to pull my head in hard. Wayward and mischievous souls met in that kiss. By the time we broke it I was laying on the couch, Sam half on top of me, and time had ceased having any meaning. We may have made out all night had the roving patrol not slammed a door nearby, breaking our reverie.