tagGay MaleTurned Out on a Bet Ch. 02

Turned Out on a Bet Ch. 02

byCoxswain©

Too much of a good thing?

After kissing First Sergeant Kovachek--a very crotchy, locker-room tasting smooch since he'd been sucking his own jockstrap while I fucked him--I rolled over, all fucked out. I pulled the dripping-wet sheet over us both and we fell asleep. I planned to wake up after a short nap for more fucking--but both of us were more exhausted than I thought. We slept all night in a wet swamp of two men's sweat, drool, and cum.


The Morning After


When the sun came in the window, I woke up. What a dump. Shady light from a single 60w lamp. Cigarette burns in the nightstand. Dust-balls in the corners. Damn, I should get a penicillin shot. Kovachek was gone. But I heard the shower running. I got up and walked into the bathroom.

He stood at the basin, naked, shaving. "Looked in the mirror to see if I looked any different." His face turned to me. "I just look a little tired. Not like a fag. But when I looked down, my cock pointed up at me." He looked back at the mirror. "As much as I told myself I didn't want to do what you wanted me to, my hard dick doesn't lie! It knows I'm a bitch." He gave me a faint smile. "I still smell your cum on me. Fires me up something terrible."

Damn, this guy fires up my ego.
I smiled back. "Come on out and sit down, Brad. I'll make us some coffee."

Sitting naked in one of the tacky vinyl chairs, he leaned back, spreading his legs, showing me everything (we were way past any modesty). He looked up at the ceiling. "Much as I hated to, I had to come to terms with it"--he paused--"I violated a trust." He looked down. "But there's no way I can take it back." He stroked his drooling member. "You called up fires in me I hid all my life. Last night the temptation was more than I could take."

His smile turned grim. "I always knew--deep inside--that I liked men. Jocks. Soldiers. But I knew better than to cross the line." He looked down at his hard cock and slid the foreskin back. Damn, doesn't his cock ever go down? "You were amazing! I had to accept it--I willingly let you plow me, and as we were doing it, I felt bad. But it felt too good to care about the bad."

I brought him a cup of coffee, and he took it but kept talking: "Giving up control and being passive was new to me. Never done that before. And knowing I had your cum inside made me--I don't know--fuck-drunk." He stared into my eyes. "You are a part of me now! Your jizz is soaking into my body."

When I sat down next to him, he leaned over and kissed my ear. "Got something to tell you. I didn't want to speak up until I was sure, but now I know."

"What's that, First Sergeant, you're pregnant?"

"Not yet." He reached down and squeezed my schlong, then kissed me, sticking his tongue deep in my mouth. When he backed off, he purred, "Don't worry, Corporal Powell, you won. I'm your bitch now. You pushed all my buttons."

Stroking himself again, he went on. "God, can you fuck! Those were the most intense orgasms of my life. Fried my brains. Never dreamed I'd actually want to get fucked." He looked in my eyes. "The thrill of getting fucked through my beaver is better than fucking with my cock." As a sign of becoming my bitch, he'd begun to call his ass his "beaver."

He kissed me again. "For anybody else in the world, I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and I fear no evil 'cause I'm the biggest son of a bitch in the Valley." Another nibble at my lips. "But for you, you little fucker, my hole is yours. Anytime you want me, I'm your fuck-toy."

Dressed once again in our uniforms, we left the flea-trap motel, a sordid background for one of the finest fucks of the 20th Century. I couldn't hold back a grin; one of us walked a little gingerly out to his car. The drive back to Fort Ord was like riding a triumphal chariot through the streets of Rome with chained, naked slaves pulled behind me.

I had just one more step. To collect on the bet, I had to show proof.

Cashing In My Chips


Later in the week, while I worked at my desk, the First Sergeant passed by and dropped an envelope in front of me, then walked away. I opened it. Inside was a note:

I can't stop thinking about you. Rent the room tonight at the motel. I'll meet you there after Taps.

K.

p.s. Shred this.


At lunch, I went to the post hospital mess hall, where O'Connell (the medical orderly) ate. Not a bad mess hall. Clean trays. The macaroni wasn't slushy. The meat in the stew was recognizable. When I got my tray, I looked around for my every-so-often fuck-buddy. I walked over and sat beside him. "I'm here to collect my 50 bucks."

"Hey, what are you, a Las Vegas con man? You're collecting sight-unseen? I saw the First Sergeant the other day. He doesn't look like a changed man to me. How're you going to prove this? You can't just show me some yogurt and tell me it's his cum. I've got to see it. No second-hand stories!"

I smiled. "Okay, I'll provide a demonstration." We sat for a while, conspiring.

It Was A Dark And Horny Night


That evening I drove straight from the fort to the motel and rented the same room, #19, for sentimental reasons--my age, the measurements of his biceps, the same place First Sergeant Kovachek's asshole was first opened from the outside. Soon also the place where he would "stand in the spotlight," so to speak--his cum-slut status witnessed, my bet won.

Also, the room was way in the back, dark, and the cars weren't easily spotted from the street.

A while later a knock at the door; when I opened it, Kovachek hurried in. Damn. Full dress uniform, medals and all. He stood at Attention, saluted me, and barked, "Ready for duty, sir!"

I gave him the ancient drill sergeant-retort when a trainee calls him "sir": "Hey, soldier, don't call me 'sir,' I work for a living." I raised my hand to his face and caressed his cheek and jaw line. He said nothing but didn't pull away.

When my lips moved onto his, his tongue came out to meet mine. With a sigh, he put his arms around me, and for a while we hugged and kissed like two teenagers at a drive-in movie. Finally we broke loose, "Why the dress uniform?"

"Had to attend a change of command ceremony."

It made my cock hard. I would fuck a combat-veteran soldier in his full-dress uniform. "Don't strip down. I want to fuck you in your dress blues."

He looked down at his medals, "What have you done to me?"

"I showed you who you are, Brad."

"A bitch." He dropped his head in shame. I still had some self-acceptance work to do on him.

"Hey, there's no problem, Brad. A man is what he is. A lot of men love to get it up the ass." I put my finger under his chin and pulled his face up to look at me. "Soldiers, too. You're in good company--I'll have to introduce him to O'Connell sometime--It's natural! Didn't it feel good?"

His voice a soft mutter, "Yeah. It felt great. I loved you in charge. Over me. In me." He paused. "I relaxed with you and surrendered." His voice became a dreamy moan: "And it was good."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Brad. You've got a place in the world. Other men need men like you."

He kissed me. "I can't refuse you. Do it to me again. Make me your bitch."

A Case of the Blews


I sat back in a chair, spreading my arms, and I knocked over an ashtray on the nightstand. Fuck. It was full of ashes and butts--hey, not mine! What a dump. "Wet me down, Brad. Suck my cock."

He pulled away. "Hey, I'm no cocksucker! You fucked me, but I'm still a man." His voice became almost a whine. "I can't suck your cock in my dress uniform!"

"That's right. You're still a man, but hey, you're my bitch. No getting around it. I bred you last night, and you liked it. You've been fucked--my cock was in your ass, bitch. How much worse could it be?" I knew what he was going through. Horror and shame. He realized his fate--to serve me, a younger, lower-ranking man. To submit to me completely. A colossal step for a stud like Kovachek.

His submission was no greater by giving me a blowjob. After all, he had already surrendered his authority and manhood to me, my willing and joyful conquest. But still he had second thoughts. Giving in again while fully sober and in control would mean giving up his last vestige of pride, of manhood. If he backed out, he could still hold onto some scrap of pride, try to move on, try to forget what he'd done.

Still leaning back on the cheap vinyl chair--Damn, they fixed it with duct tape--I pulled down my cammo pants and spread my legs wide. I looked up at him, and I won! First Sergeant Kovachek knelt between my legs. Close enough to inhale my male musk, he could feel my power. But still he hesitated.

I raised my hips closer, and when he stared down at the pearl of pre-cum on the tip of my dick, I knew what would happen. He was too far gone. He could not deny my power. He would surrender. I burned with the thrill of conquest as he stuck out his tongue and for the first time licked a drop of pre-cum from his master.

First Sergeant Kovachek opened his mouth wide and sucked Ol' Faithful to the back of his throat--the man really was a natural. A cum-slut learning his role.

What a humiliation for him, a seasoned, battle-tested soldier, old enough to be my father, big and strong enough to break me in two--submitting to me like a teenaged girl. Sucking my cock. Knowing I was going to fuck him.

As his tongue glided across the flare of my bazooka, I growled, "Yeah, bitch, that's it. You know you want it." He jabbed his tongue into my piss-hole, giving me a real thrill, and I practically gushed pre-cum, out of my mind at having hit on a real, natural-born cum-bucket.

I looked up and smiled. The door to the closet gaped open. Behind it, O'Connell was watching.

Kovachek, ever the eager learner, tried bravely to take me deep, but he soon gagged and backed off. I told him to lick my piss-slit, clean under the foreskin with his tongue, then try again. Damn, he did such a good job, he made my eyes close. "You're a good bitch," I murmured, "you really know how to serve a man."

That was pretty anti-macho talk and would be humiliating to a straight guy, but Kovachek went at it again--gulped my woodie down his throat. His left hand cupped my ball-sac, and I lurched my hips, fucking his mouth, panting, "Work--cockhead more--Take--cock--down your throat!--Show--what slut--you are!"

He made it--opened up and my cock-helmet slid across his tongue and down his throat while he choked and gagged. I had to give him credit; he kept trying until he could deep-throat me to the balls, his nose digging into my crotch hair. Soon I could face-fuck him, my cock way to the back of his throat, so soft and warm. When I let him come up for air, I cooed, "Good boy."

His inaugural blowjob summoned a big climax from the bottom of my balls. My pecker drooled pre-cum like a fire hose, and his tongue constantly lapped at my piss-slit. What a great cocksucker.

I figured him a virgin at man-sex, but I never saw anybody take to it with such lust. He had me on fire; I wouldn't last long. "Like--this--Brad?" He responded with a grunt, his nose in my crotch hairs. I panted, gloating, "Smell--aroma--of soldier?" He grunted again.

He would get used to this. The empty place inside him, the itch he'd never been able to scratch, would go away as he finally accepted himself as he truly was. They say once you try sex with a man, you can never go back. It's true. Once a man opens his legs to another and gets passion from it, once he tastes a man's cream and feels it spray onto his skin and up his ass, a part of his brain will always crave a cock.

It's worse for a guy like Kovachek--craving men's cocks all his life without allowing himself the experience, hiding it so deep he didn't even realize his longing. At last a cocksucker, he closed his eyes and sucked in his cheeks , his tongue caressing the skin of my column.

I couldn't hold back, myself as triumph and joy swept over me in waves--like submission and pleasure flowed over him. He was a goner, slavishly showing his devotion to the conqueror of his soul. I took his maleness from him as I thrust my manhood down his throat. And he liked it, wallowing in relief and total acquiescence.

I went over the falls, firing off thick, hot squirts that hit the back of his throat and made him gag. He swallowed as fast as he could, but he couldn't stop choking. Cum ran out his nostrils.

Then his own rod shot. His eyes rolled up in his head , and his whole body trembled as he unloaded hot passion. He was gay, no doubt about it. I've seen guys cum while giving a blowjob, but they always had to be jacking themselves off. Kovachek cummed at the gush of my juice down his throat.

Damn, what a great blowjob! I dropped my head back against the couch as he licked up the flow still drooling from my penis. Finally, dropping his cheek to my thigh, he sighed, "Never felt like this before, Powell. Free. You set me free." Long pause. "I was up in the sky."

Damn. I've never come out of a blowjob like that. Who's the teacher here?

He licked my glans again. "You were in charge," he yelled, "and I was free to fly!"

Now, Where Were We?


That sounded pretty much like a done-deed to me. First Sergeant Kovachek was officially my older-guy bitch. We lay in bed, playing with each other for a while until I got my hardon back. "Ready to get fucked again, Brad? Your man-pussy hungry for another session? Your beaver aching for me?" He nodded.

"Lie back on the bed, bitch. I want to look in your face when I ram it in!" He obeyed. What else could he do? I owned his manhood. He couldn't deny me; he wanted it, ached for it, and I made him admit it as he walked to the crummy bed--"What do you want me to do, Brad?"

"Do me."

"Tell me what you want. Say it."

He took a deep breath. "I want you. I've wanted you, wanted you bad for days, you bastard. I screamed at myself, Queer, Faggot, Fairy, but now all I want is that monster cock back in my guts. You burn me up, Powell."

As I crawled in bed (checking that they changed the sheets since our cum-shooting previous visit--hard to be sure; they didn't smell fresh), he reached for me, guiding me back into the saddle like an experienced bitch. His legs went back automatically as I mounted him, his swollen erection arching back against his groin and rubbing against my hairy belly as I got into position.

He closed his eyes as he guided Ol' Faithful to his hole, and as I slowly pressed against his eager, lubed opening, he growled low in his throat. I pushed against the moist opening, and his man-pussy accepted my tool like an old friend. I slipped in very easily, accompanied by a long groan from him as we connected.

I held him tight and with my head alongside his, I grunted how good he felt. As I increased the thrusts, I called him my little bitch, telling him over and over how he was a wild fuck.

He grunted with the virility of my strokes. "Oh, yeah--fucked--taken--so powerful--complete." He lurched his hips back at me. "Fuck me--man, plow --me!"

This moment was a pinnacle in his life. He was naked, on his back, his legs splayed wide, impaled upon the scepter of his first master. Slave to a male who was a boy compared to him. He had surrendered everything about his manhood to me.

He was mine. Mine to use, mine to gouge, a bitch for my pleasure , and a vessel to hold my spunk. And he knew it. Ol' Faithful thrust deep into his body as my orgasm started. "What--you want--now--Brad?"

"Ah, God, ah!--Fuckin'--ecstasy!" He was panting. "Want--your cum!--Breed me!--Fill me--complete!"

Damn. He really was my bitch. Wanted to bear my child. I grabbed his legs and forced my pole even deeper. He groaned, his eyes looking up with admiration. Almost worship. Cunts like him crave the surrender, the humiliation, being used. He wrapped his legs around my lower back, and his beaver was mine. He would let me breed him whenever and as often as I wanted.

The violence of the fuck worked; he cummed again without touching himself. Mouth open, gasping for air, he shuddered in passion, his boner sputtering cream-colored coagulate up onto my chest and back down onto his. Sergeant-jizz all over the place, all over his chest. Damn, this guy is shameless! Every time I fuck him, he beats me to the orgasm. I made sure my prick rubbed his prostate, driving him even crazier.

Out Of The Closet At Last


Then the unbelievable happened. O'Connell stumbled out of his hiding place, stroking his hard prick, staring down at us like a fuck-drunk zombie. The sight of me fucking the heroic First Sergeant had driven him crazy.

My blood ran cold--the instant Kovachek spotted him, he would come up off that bed like a fire-breathing dragon. But then the even more unbelievable happened; when Kovachek saw O'Connell walking toward him stroking his hard , throbbing dick, the First Sergeant reached out, grabbed O'Connell's boner, and sucked it into his mouth! I couldn't believe my eyes.

That did it for me. I went over the falls. "Oh, bitch, oh, you bitch! Suck that man's cock--you fuckin' cunt--and take my cum--take it--ahh!" With that my genitals gushed, spurting my creamy jizz again deep inside him. I grunted each time I shot a wad, and he moaned as he felt it. "Like it--do you--bitch?"

He couldn't answer (mouth full of O'Connell's cock), but he murmured, "Uh-huh."

"You like--suck--cock?"

"Uh-huh."

"You like--be fucked?"

"Uh-huh."

As I gradually came down from my frenzy, I still thrust into him in my afterglow. Poor guy. Everything in his brain screamed, "No, I'm a man!" But when O'Connell cummed down his throat and he had to back off to keep from drowning, finally he could talk. "Yeah--so good--screw me, man--ah, God, fuck--my ass," and his manhood again passed to me as he went into yet another orgasm! I was so slimy with his cum, we were like eels wriggling together.

I collapsed on him at the end, kissing and sucking his neck, kissing his tightly closed eyes. I praised his beautiful ass as I wiped the sweat from his face, and First Sergeant Kovachek whimpered and moaned like a virgin on her wedding night. I smiled down at him. "You have multiple orgasms, Brad. You really are a bitch."

He looked up, his voice dreamy. "God, what a feeling. Jizz down my throat, jizz up my ass, cummed like never before, not even with a female..." He closed his eyes and lolled his head. "Wonderful!"

His ass-ring clamped down on my rod, and I kissed him again. When we were finally a little calmer, I finally acknowledged the 800-pound gorilla in the room--in the person of my 175-pound buddy. "This is Private O'Connell, also gay, obviously. He bet me that you wouldn't go for man-sex."

Kovachek looked over at O'Connell. "My whole life passed before my eyes when he came out of that closet, but then I realized only two things could happen--one, he would report me and end my life as I know it. Two, he would be another gay soldier. When I saw him stroking that hard cock, I relaxed and went with the flow."

I scooped up some of Kovachek's cum from his chest and held it up to O'Connell's lips. He licked it up.

Then I held my slimy fingers to Kovachek's mouth, and he licked them. "And you helped me to win the bet, Sarge."

O'Connell spoke up. "You'll have no trouble from me, First Sergeant. I'm fucking honored--and turned on--to see your performance. I was going crazy hiding in that closet. I just had to come out and join in." He reached down, scooped up another cum-ball from Kovachek's chest hair, swallowed it, and smiled. "You're a handsome stud, First Sergeant. Anytime you want me, I'm available."

Report Story

byCoxswain© 0 comments/ 58711 views/ 16 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

Next
2 Pages:12

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar:

   Cancel