The Summer of 2004 Ch. 06

As I continued to suck his cock and look up at him, his expression was stoical on the surface, which was such a manly turn on, but there was appreciation and gratitude in his eyes. Those eyes were appreciating me as a friend, as a buddy, for trusting him and jumping off the cliff. They conveyed respect for sucking him and subordinating myself to his supreme manhood.

I was honored to serve this stud. As his cock touched the back of my throat, our eyes were locked in mutual, tacit expressions of thanks and admiration. My cock swelled again at his intense gaze. His eyes were filled with lust. I think we both were on the same page at one point; when my finger started to enter his tight ass, he half nodded. He knew what I wanted, he knew the technique he had taught me that first day, and he knew he wanted to fulfill my carnal desires at that ball- swelling moment. And he had desires of his own. He wanted to jizz down my throat as much as I wanted him to fill me. Our eyes stayed locked in mutual understanding of the animalistic symbiotic ritual about to take place.

And when it happened, we both were in sexual ecstasy. Our eyes stayed fixed on each other, silently exchanging admiration and respect and gratitude. My eyes were drunk with pleasure. I had been satiated. Robert's eyes went wide with joy as his voluminous secretions dumped into my all-abiding, ravenous mouth. And our eyes conveyed rapture to each other as his warm, delicious load slid down my throat. He was pleased, and I was delirious to have been looking deeply into his eyes when I swallowed.

I was pleased also to know that this Marine stud, trained in studying people, was able to read my eyes: "You are the man, Robert, thank you so much for being my buddy, for helping me out of my shell, for helping me have the most fun I've had in my entire life. Thank you Robert for the privilege of your cock and its soothing semen. And I can't fucking wait until I give you my ass for the first time, tonight. I can't fucking wait until I'm on all fours and you are pounding my ass and cumming up my chute."

We jogged back to base in silence. It had been the most fulfilling morning I'd ever had. I was empowered. I boldly taunted Robert, "Hey Robert, see if your wimpy ass can beat me back to the base. The loser, which will be you of course, has to feed the winner breakfast."

"Every forkful!" I added before dashing off, faster than I'd ever run in my life. I wanted to impress him and I felt stronger than I'd ever felt. I thought for sure I'd beat him!

"SHIT," I thought. The fucking animal, robotron, Brute blew past me like the Road Runner from Bugs Bunny. By the time I raced across the finish line, Robert was smirking by the skillet on the terrace. "Hey Dickhead, start cooking!" He laughed, absolutely guffawed, as I begrudgingly fulfilled the bet.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, just wait, hotshot. By the end of the summer, I'm gonna kick your fucking ass!"

"Bring it on, Boot, bring it on." His laughter was sexy.

After breakfast I spent the day doing various yard duties like cleaning out the boathouse and organizing Robert's tools in the garage. At 5:30 we enjoyed a nice dinner on the terrace. Robert threw 2 hefty steaks on the grill and we made our own Philly Cheesesteaks. I helped cut up the peppers and onions and thought how cool this day had been. We sat across from each other on a table for two and I felt really comfortable being me. Robert knew all about me. I didn't have to put on aires, or worry about him prying and finding out I didn't have a girlfriend. I didn't have to worry that he would cast me out for being gay. It was nice to feel this. I felt peace. I felt I belonged, sitting across from this stud with his signature U.S.M.C. t-shirt.

A summer storm was brewing. The claps of thunder were getting closer as the greenish sky suggested a hailstorm approaching from the west. Laurel and Hardy were not responding well to the thunder. Ears erect, they barked incessantly. I always enjoyed a good storm though. "Hey, to the storm," I said to my fellow adventureman. And we clinked our Corona bottles.

He looked sternly at me. "Yeah, to the upcoming storm. I think it's gonna be pretty intense."

He kept looking at me and my heart skipped a beat and I swallowed hard. Sometimes Robert scared me. This was one of those times.

Maintaining his gaze, he continued: "I'm glad you conquered your fear, boot. Glad you accomplished it, bro."

"Thanks man." Our Corona bottles clinked again in solidarity.

Robert's voice got lower, very serious. "What else do you want to do?" He sounded like a psychologist addressing his subject.

I ignored the weight of the question and answered innocently: "Oh, you know, there's lotsa stuff I'd like to do. I love to ski, maybe I'll try snowboarding."

"Uh, huh, what else?" His eyes were burning right through me. "What else?" he asked again.

"I don't know."

"You don't know what you want to do?"

"Well, there's lotsa things I guess."

"Gimme some of em. What fantasies do you have?"

I laughed. I was getting a little uncomfortable being interrogated by Robert. He's quite an inimidating dude. "I don't know."

"You know. C'mon, everybody knows their fantasies. Talk to me."

"Well, I wish I was a major league professional baseball player. Making millions of dollars, signing autographs and shit."

"What else?"

"I don't know."

"You know. You know what you fantasize about. What you want. What you're hungry for. What you want real, real bad."

"I have some sexual fantasies. Hell, we all do."

"Tell me."

"I don't know...."

"Tell me."

I paused. I was feeling scared at his tone. Scared to reveal my innermost desires.

"Well, I have one silly, queer fantasy."

"What is it?"

"It's stupid, it's a real queer, faggot-ass type thing."

"Try me."

"Well," I paused and then realized Robert wouldn't rest until he heard my fantasies, so I began. "I sometimes think I'd like to get pulled over by a cop. He asks me to get out of the car and looks me up and down, tells me he'll let the ticket go if I make it worth his while. He then rubs his prick. Then he unzips and I suck him off while he leans up against the car. Then his buddy comes over and fucks me in the ass while I'm deep-throating the first cop. Then we switch positions and I suck the other one while the other one fucks my ass."

"It's not a queer fantasy. Stop putting yourself down. It's a fantasy. And a valid one. What else?"

"I think about my high school coach and how many nights I beat my meat thinking of him. I wanted him to take me down in the showers, punish me for letting a runner score during a playoff game."

"Another one, keep going."

"I saw a picture once of some dude online, handsome fucking face. Not soap opera or nothing, just real, real ruggedly handsome. He had a personal webpage. The guy makes boats for a living. Anyway, his face just killed me when I saw him. I fantasize about him and just treating him right, ya know."

"What do you mean, 'Treat him right'?"

"Well, you know, I wanna just really get with him."

"And do what?"

"Why are you so fucking nosy, man?"

"You need to open up, Mike. Now what exactly do you want to do with him?"

"I don't know, I mean, well. I'd like to give him a massage. I know it's silly. But it's my fantasy, damnit. I just would like to massage him, rub his shoulders, neck and back real good. Work his whole body. I'd like to work his shoulders real good while I eat his ass. I would get off with my face near his cock. I'd love to smell his balls and feel my cheek against his pubic hair. I'd like to suck his cock and bury my nose into his belly button, while his rod dumps hot cum into my throat. I really like his face. I'd love to kiss it and make out with him."

Robert listened like he was my doctor. "Okay," he said.

"I know it's queer as all hell, but I'd love for him to fuck me. Don't even know 'em, but I want him up my ass." I laughed at the absurdity. "That's crazy, no? I mean, I really wanna feel that dude's cock inside me. I'd like to feel that guy's manhood in me. I'd like to wrestle him wild."

Robert didn't respond. He just listened.

"I'd like to be friends with this boatman. He reminds me of the kind of dude I grew up with, the kind I'm friends with and secretly lust after."

"So, maybe that's why you got it bad for him."

"Why?"

"Because you just said he reminds you of people you grew up with, people you're friends with but secretly lusted for. Well, you have a thing for this handsome stranger because you know he's gay. And since you know he's gay you know that if you were friends with him he wouldn't judge you. And that would make you feel good. Because you feel judged by your peers. Don't you, Mike? You're afraid of them, afraid if they knew that good ol' Mike likes to get fucked up the ass, good ol' Mike likes to swallow men's cum, they would reject you. This boatman wouldn't reject you."

"Well....I don't know...." "Wow," I thought, "Robert is really getting in my head. He's making sense, I think. But I'm not sure I want to open up like this."

"Okay, you're opening up, less with the put downs, anyway. Go on. What else."

"And I wish I could blow my buddy Derek, even though he was mean to me. Fuck, I'd blow him right now if he asked me. Yeah, he humiliated me. Yeah, he wrecked my reputation. But, damn, if we're talkin' fantasies? Hell, if we're even talkin' TRUTH, the sad truth is if he snapped his fingers right now I'd drop to my knees and swallow him. If he snapped his fingers and bent over, I'd eat his ass."

Robert swigged his Corona and eyed me carefully. "Continue."

"I've never been fucked. I really want a cock in my ass. I used to think that was a feminine thing to want, but I'm not feminine and I want it. I want to share my masculinity with another. I want to give my ass. I know I'm masculine. I wanna give my ass in a masculine way, where I test my endurance and ruggedness."

"How do you fantasize it? Who is it with?"

"Well, I fantasize about that boat guy, I fantasize about you, 'bout you coming up behind me while I'm on all fours."

"Am I the only one?"

"No, you're my favorite fantasy, but I've thought of others."

"Who?

"I fantasize about Bruce Springsteen. I wish he'd climb through my bedroom window and sit on the edge of my bed and play the guitar and sing to me. Then I'd like him to fuck me in the ass after I suck him raw and eat his ass."

"Ain't he old now?"

"I don't give a shit. I'd do him in a minute."

I was opening up now, feeling less self-conscious.

"What else do you want?" Robert continued.

"I just want to get fucked. That's my biggest fantasy right now, never did it."

"And who do you want to fuck you?"

"I told you, I want you to fuck me."

"Yes, you did say that, and Bruce Springsteen, and the boatman---but who else?"

"Nobody else, really."

"Who else?"

"I said, Nobody else but you and Bruce and the boatman."

"WHO ELSE?"

"What are you doin, Robert?"

"I want you to face something, a source of great blockage in your chakras, great blockage in your energy flow, great blockage to personal happiness and fulfillment."

"Face what? What the hell is a chakra? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robert was very firm now. He was ordering me in his most stern tone yet. "Tell me your number one fantasy. And don't tell me it's me. I know it's not."

"What?"

"You've been talking to me for weeks, I know you, Mike. I know. But I need YOU to know. I need you to face it! Now open up and tell me. Who do you want to fuck your ass?"

"I told you, I want YOU!"

Rolling thunder dominated the lake now.

His voice raised in volume and intensity. "Yes, and who else? Isn't there somebody else you dream about? Somebody else whose cock you're fascinated with? Somebody else you're so ashamed that you want?"

"Fuck you, Robert." My eyes welled with tears.

"Talk to me, Mike."

"You got no right, man!"

"Talk to me."

"You got no fucking right!"

"You want him don't you?"

"Fuck you!"

"You want his cock, dontcha, Michael? You want his ass. You want to do all sorts of things to him. You want to suck his asshole and swallow his cum. You want to feel his cock up your ass. You want him to do all sorts of things to you, right? Isn't that true, Mike?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"SAY it, Mike. You want him. SAY it. It's time you faced facts. You want your own father, don't ya?"

I was silent with shame and anger and feigned denial. Tears streaked down my left cheek as I fought valiantly to avoid crying.

"You fantasize about your own daddy fucking your ass and cumming in your mouth, don't you? You want your own daddy. You fantasize about your coach working you over in the showers, and you fantasize about the cops working you over because your coach and the cops are symbolically your father. MIKE, WAKE THE FUCK UP, you want your father to shove his cock...." I lunged across the table and grabbed Robert's shirt collar and twisted it around his neck. I was in tears, but I was enraged, too: "Don't you EVER!...." I made a fist and I'm not sure what move he made, but the next thing I knew the table was overturned, the dogs were barking, and Robert was on my back twisting my arm. "You want your daddy's cock, admit it!"

"Fuck you, get off me!"

His voice was menacing and low. This was not the playful, fun Robert I had hung out with today. "You're so hot for me because I remind you of your daddy, isn't that so, Mike! Eh? Big U.S.M.C. Lieutenant Colonel is an authority figure, just another symbol of your daddy. You want your daddy's cock."

"Get off of me!" I quietly sobbed.

His mouth was right at my ear, his raspy low voice went right in to my soul. "Tell me the truth, Mike. You want me to fuck you because you want your daddy to fuck you! You want your daddy to love you, dontcha! You think your daddy doesn't love you. He rejected you because you're a faggot! Ain't that right, Mike? Ain't that why you've been here blue-balled every day with excitement over an older man? You love me, don't you? You'd do anything for me. If I pissed right now and told you to drink it you'd do it. You'd do anything for me, you love me because you love your daddy!"

I was overcome and ashamedly balling. "I thought you were my friend!"

"Mike, there ain't nothing wrong with you. You want to get fucked, son? You want your dad to fuck you? Hey, you wanna complete boot camp? Well then you're going to get fucked. You want your daddy to fuck you, well, I'm your daddy Mike. Daddy's right here Mike. I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck the living shit outta you."

I was so taken aback by his words that I couldn't move. I was so angry with Robert for saying these things, but I was also rock hard. I hated him at the moment but I wanted him too.

Just as I had explained about my raw animal attraction to Derek, the attraction that called me to his cock despite his horrible treatment of me, I had a calling to Robert. Yes, I was furious and hurt badly over Robert's words. But I wanted, I needed to be fucked by him. "Okay," I answered, "but you gotta go easy on me."

Heavy rains and additional thunder were over the lake now.

"Get inside. Get up in the loft, I'll be inside in a minute."

I walked indoors a bit shaken. Robert had become animalistic but I couldn't deny how hard my cock was.

I stripped down and climbed into Robert's bed. I marveled at the masculinity of his room, the little boats in bottles, the lanterns, the U.S.M.C. and Semper Fi logos. I was on all fours, naked and raw, waiting. I had waited for this day for years. I pushed my face into his pillows and inhaled. I got off on the scent of the uber-stud. He had hurt my feelings really bad with his remarks about me and my dad. "HOW DARE HE!" But my body was in desperate hunger and need and desire for him. My body ached for his flesh, his sweat, his testosterone. I wanted the juice from his ball sac.

I heard Robert mount the ladder to the loft and I refused to face or acknowledge him. He was too rude to me. I do have some pride. But I lacked the strength to walk away in self-righteousness. I was too attracted to this animal. He slapped my ass hard and I felt a blob of cold lube on my asshole. That sensation was followed by the feeling of 2 of Robert's fingers shoved into me.

"I'm gonna give you your fantasy, Mike. You wanna get fucked, you know it."

My ass was up in the air awaiting what I'd been masturbating to since I was 12. Robert was right. I was incredibly hot for him, but I was hot for my father too. I felt a burning sensation on my virgin hole as the enigmatic stud began his incursion.

"Go easy, Robert!"

"I'm gonna fuck you, son. You need to get fucked hot and raw!" He pushed further and I felt another 2 inches inside me as he yelled "HOO-RAH!"

The pain was escalating. By now, there must have been 4 inches of his manhood inside of me. "Easy, Robert, please."

Robert's strong hands grabbed the top of my thighs for support. "Don't worry, Mike, daddy's gonna treat you right."

"You're not my father!"

"I am tonight, bitch."

"Why are you being so mean, Robert?"

"Mean? This is boot camp, son. I'm not pussy-footin around with you. You wanna be a man? You wanna grow into your manhood without hangups? Then take it like a man. Take my cock and manhood like you know you want it. You need to ACCEPT, ONCE AND FOR ALL, THAT YOU, MICHAEL JOHNSON LOVES COCK!"

With that he shoved at least 2 more inches into me. "HOO-RAH," he again bellowed.

"OWWWwwwwwwww, easy, easy!"

"You love it!"

My breathing was rapid, my face was buried into Robert's pillow. He was commandeering my ass. The outdoor thunderclaps pealed in rapid succession as the roar of the rains engulfed the house. The indoor lights flicked off several times. At least 5 inches of him was already in. I thougth I might pass out. I was consoled by the smell of Robert's being on his pillow.

"Fuck yeah, this is hot. Brace yourself, Mike. Daddy's got 3 more inches to give ya." I thought I might black out from the pain when I heard the next "HOO-RAH," and the final assault invaded me.

"OWWWWW, EASY, EASY!!"

"YEE-haw, who's your daddy, Mike?"

"Awwwwww."

"I got all 8 inches in ya Mike. You took it all! Be proud of yourself, dude. How does it feel?

"Ahhhhhhh."

"How does it feel to have an 8 inch thick cock from a manly U.S. Marine completely up your ass! What would your daddy say if he saw you now, huh?"

"Mmmmmm, ahhhhh, owww. Easy, man, easy. Ahhhhh."

Now's the fun part. Now's where I start pounding the living shit outta ya and make a man outta you. HOO-RAH, HOORAH."

My insides were a torn chasm of cock invaded tissue. Robert's prized dick seemed to be everywhere in my being. Desert Storm was being waged upon and in my ass. I did resent Robert's analyzing of me and his insistence that I wanted my father. But despite the pain, despite my anger, I was hard. I was harder than I'd ever been in my entire life!

I started to revel in the sensation of this massive tool burrowing deep within me and pulling out. Robert's strong hands were now clamped down on my wrists, effectively acting as handcuffs. There was no escape for me, even if I wanted it. I was being fucked. I had no power. My body and soul was being morphed into Robert's. As his cock jumped and burrowed into me, I was becoming an extension of Robert.

"Aahhh, Robert, fuck, yeah, owww, go easy, please." I sounded like some soldier who's been discovered injured and half-starved in the desert. "OHhhhh, fuck, go easy, you're killing me."

"You love it, Mike, don't fuck with me, you LOVE it. Lemme hear you son, tell me how much you love having daddy fuck your ass."

My response was reactionary, instinctive. I didn't think at all. I just heard the words quietly, softly leaving my mouth. I was gingerly pleading with the stud, in barely audible whispers: "I love it. I love it. Fuck me. Robert, plow me...fuck me...hump me. Awww, yeah, fuck the living shit outta me. Get up there....oooh yeah, ahhhh....yeah, fuck that ass, tap my ass." My voice rose in volume as I experienced his pounding. "Fuck me like a bitch! Aaahhh, yeah, Robert this is sweet! I think I'm dying, but it's awesome! Ahhhh."