The Ballad of John and Al Ch. 04

Jimmy was in his sixties, and something of an asshole, although a good-natured one. He couldn't picture that Jimmy had ever been a good-looking man, but he might have once been a formidable one. But now what may have once been a barrel chest had settled down into a pot belly, stretching out a faded Duke University t-shirt, the same one he had been wearing when he introduced himself the day they had moved in. Which, considering that John was a North Carolina Tar Heel, wasn't the most auspicious beginning for a relationship, especially since Jimmy had insisted on tweaking him about it at every single opportunity since then.

But the other thing that had always made John twitch a bit about Jimmy was that that night, that first night in the apartment, he and Al had heard Jimmy "entertaining" a woman through their adjoining wall. They had looked at each other, wide-eyed. Because it was really quite obvious that Jimmy was primarily entertaining himself. They could clearly hear the squeaking of bed springs and the banging of a headboard against a wall, and a woman's desperate gasps and moans, and eventually the guttural sound of Jimmy bellowing like a wounded water buffalo. It wasn't the sound of lovemaking or even vigorous sex. It was the sound of a man in the selfish and mindless pursuit of his own orgasm, and a woman being used for it.

Al had only giggled, but John had to admit ... he couldn't help imagining her being on the receiving end of such treatment, and every time his thoughts returned to the notion, he felt guilty. But the image did keep returning.

At any rate, today Jimmy had taken a moment to scan the environs, and then ambled off toward the bar, without any indication that he had noticed John, or Al.

Al gave no indication she had noticed Jimmy, either. In fact, she was heading back toward him now.

"Hey, I think I'm going to go hit the bar," Warren said, standing up as Al reached them. "Can I get you guys anything?"

"Yeah, thanks," Al responded. "Club soda?"

"You got it," Warren asked, and turned toward John. John asked for a beer, and then sat back as Al lowered herself onto his lap. Her suit was still wet, but he didn't mind a bit.

"Having fun?" she asked him coyly.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"Mmm, good. Me too."

Just then, another guest entered the party. It was Trent, a young Army Ranger assigned to security detail at the Pentagon. He and John had chatted several times. John didn't know if Al had ever even met him.

"Oh, there's Trent," she noted, answering that question.

"Uh huh," John replied, narrowing his eyes. "I see you've made his acquaintance."

"Oh yeah. He's kind of hard to miss."

John grunted.

"You think he's the one?" she teased.

"You tell me."

"Nope. That's not how this game works."

"I know," John sighed.

"He is good looking, isn't he?"

"I hadn't noticed," John said, dryly. "He's certainly put together well."

They watched as Trent slipped off his shirt and dived into the pool. Al made a little appreciative noise in her throat.

"Yeah, well, of all the guys here, he's the one who would probably fight you for me."

John chuckled. She had a point. And Trent was probably the only guy here who would stand a chance against him, including Dan, the bodybuilder. Which, as he thought about it, made him wonder what kind of trouble she might be having finding the partner she was looking for. If she wanted a guy to think he was getting one over on the oblivious Navy pilot, the guy would probably be thinking twice about the angry boyfriend finding out.

He realized that Al was looking at him intently. "You would fight him for me?" she asked.

"Is that what you would want?" John asked.

"Hmm, maybe. It sounds kind of hot. Two big strong warrior types slugging it out for the right to take me home."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Because I think he could take you."

John choked a bit at that. But she might have a point, again. The young soldier had at least the same training, more recently, and might be just a bit quicker than him. God, he realized. Why was this line of thought making him hard?

"It's okay. I think it's sweet that you'd be willing to get beat up for me. I'd take care of you and kiss your boo boos afterwards."

He watched the edges of her mouth curve up into a smile. "After I fucked him."

He flinched, causing her to giggle. "Well, of course I would fuck him! Or rather, he'd fuck me. That's the whole point, isn't it? Winner gets to take me away and rail me into next Tuesday?"

John had never gotten into a fight over a woman. It had just never seemed necessary or worth it. But he knew very well how viscerally satisfying it was to defeat an adversary in physical combat, even though it had almost always been in a gym with boxing gloves on. And he was also familiar with how satisfying it was to finally plunge into a willing woman after she had playfully made him work for it.

He looked across the patio at the young Ranger and tried to picture the kid, enjoying both of those pleasures at once, thrusting into his sweet Al's precious body. While he slowly pulled himself up, bloodied and bowed, from the floor where he had been bested. It made him nauseous with discomfort and an inexplicable arousal.

Warren was back with their drinks. Al stood up and John realized that he needed to turn half-sideways in his chair and cross his legs to hide the erection that was pushing obscenely against his loose swim trunks.

He glanced back toward Trent, who had climbed out of the pool and was toweling off his splendid latissimus dorsi, while his soaking wet swim trunks clung to his impressive glutes. John swallowed hard. He couldn't resist picturing those buttocks, bare and clenching between Al's legs as she wrapped them around Trent's waist, and he pounded into her with the same skill and overwhelming vigor with which he had dispatched John in a fist fight. Clenching and releasing, clenching and releasing, matching the rhythmic rise and fall of his testicles as the triumphant young soldier inseminated his prize.

He looked up at Al. She was smirking at him.

He glanced over at Warren. He was looking back with an arched eyebrow. "Let's talk," he mouthed.

***

They had barely got back inside the apartment when Al threw her arms around his neck. They kissed each other ravenously. John found himself not only aroused, but somewhat relieved that she was this horny, that she still had some of this ardor to share with him. Maybe, for all his fetid visions and stomach-churning thoughts watching her out by the pool, they were still doing something fun and healthy for their relationship.

"So," she said. "You ready for a blow job?"

"Uh ... yeah!" John replied, agreeably.

She reached down and pulled his swim trunks to his knees. He had gone flaccid on the walk back to the apartment and had only just begun to stiffen again as they had kissed, but now he was turgid, slapping up against his belly.

She pushed him down onto the sofa and settled between his legs. She cupped him in one hand and drew him toward her, slaving her tongue from left to right, all up and down the sensitive underside of his shaft.

"God, I've been waiting to do this," she murmured.

"Oh yeah?" John replied.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I mean, not to you, but you'll have to do."

John gasped and flinched, and she giggled, then went back to licking.

"You enjoying this?" she asked. She tipped his shaft toward her and engulfed him in her warm wet mouth, swirling her tongue around his glans and then slipping him out from her pursed lips with an audible pop.

"Uh huh."

"Good," she said. "Enjoy it.

"Because this afternoon, I told the other guy I would go down on him tomorrow.

"So this is your last one."