Date: Mon, 03 Jun 2002 21:22:56 +0300
From: Dov Bear <dov46@hotmail.com>
Subject: Meeting at the Beach

Disclaimer: This story concerns homosexual  men and their sexual activities.
It was inspired by events that might have  happened, but didn't. This tale
is entirely fictional. If there are any similarities to actual people,
places or events, it is purely coincidental.  If you are under 18 or if
reading this story would be illegal for you in your area or if you don't
like the subject matter, please leave now.  Otherwise read on and the author
hopes you enjoy it.

Meeting at the beach

It was about sunset.
After a long day of harsh negotiations, I could, finally, take a break, have
a beer, and put my ideas in order...

This was not my first visit to Tel-Aviv. I work for a large electronics
company in the field of defense. I have been involved with defense
activities most of my life. I enrolled in the Army when I was 17, made my
tours of duty, climbed the ladder of the military career in the
Communications Corps, until I was "promoted" to civil life with the rank of
lieutenant colonel and an M. Sc. EE. degree. It was then that I joined the
company I am working for, and, using my technical and military background,
together with my personnel management skills, I became "Regional Sales
Manager for Europe & Middle East" - which is a very impressive title for a
well-paid traveling salesman.

During some of my previous visits to Israel, I managed to close a few
interesting deals, and built a very close relation with some bright young
officers, that helped me push my projects.
So, here I am, after a hard day's work, at the bar, on the beach.
I drop my blue blazer, loosen up my tie, open up my shirt, take off my shoes
and socks, sit at a table, playing with my feet on the sand and get my
ice-cold beer.

The hour is that magic hour when everything gets bathed in the warm gold of
sunset.
I let my thoughts drift away.
In front of me, back lit by the setting sun, a group of hunks play
volleyball.

So, what have I got: Good business is brewing, I don't have any immediate
preoccupations, the kids are studying in college and my wife is either
tending the garden or teaching art at the local University...
I am at peace with the world.

I sip my beer and let my thoughts wander.
What else can I ask from life?
I look at the guys playing in front of me: the dying sun paints a golden
halo around them, breaking its rays in their body hair. They look like dark
silhouettes, framed by a gold line. They play just for the sake of playing.
Like they would be just playing for me. Their hard bodies shine, sweating
under the sun... I look at them and drawl.

Please, don't get me wrong, I am very happy with my wife and my life, but if
I must, I should confess that once upon a time, during one of my tours of
duty, it happened that a guy and I got very close - you know, the heath of
the tent, the distance from home, the hormones boiling, a few glasses too
many...

I should recognize as well, I enjoy looking at strong, beautiful men, being
in their company. But that's it. Most of the time...
Besides, what is the harm to sit here, at peace with the world, on the beach
and fantasize...?

Then, one of the guys jumped high, hit the ball with all his strength, a
blond, muscular giant tried to catch it, but the angle was impossible, the
ball bounced and both, ball and player landed at my feet, among a cloud of
sand.
Before I could react, the guy broke in apologies, stopped and said:
- "Colonel? I am very sorry, Sir, I didn't recognize you"...
- "Watch what you do... What the heck?... - Is that you, Lieutenant?"
The guy laughed.
- "It's Captain today, Colonel, and that  thanks to the project you sold us.
I'm glad you did recognize me - it is over a year since the last time we
met".

As if I could have forgotten! At that time, over a year ago, we were
discussing a very important project, the most important one I had dealt till
then, a decisive project that would either get me promoted or sacked. And
this young Lieutenant was finding problems and rising objections to any
proposal I made. And if that was not enough, he was even discussing with
higher-ranking officers that seemed to be convinced!  I thought I'd kill
him! But then I began to listen to the objections, and a new light began to
rise in my mind... This guy's objections came from real field experience! - He
really understood what to expect from our products, he could pinpoint what
was missing there and how to make the project succeed!

Like crazy, I scribbled down his objections, my ideas and every possible
association.
That night I had a pair of long phone calls with my engineering teams - one
to describe the problems, the other to gather solutions, then prepare my
presentation. After a night with no-sleep and a few jugs of black coffee, I
gave the best presentation of my life. Later, we had a free discussion,
during which I could feel the change in the audience: that
"pain-in-the-ass", young Lieutenant, instead of rising new objections, was
in fact supporting me in front of his superiors! Once he understood the
modifications I proposed, based on the ideas and sketches of my
presentation, he helped me close the deal - and my company got one of the
most successful projects we ever had. I was really in-debt to this guy.
Perhaps it was more than that. Some kind of closeness I could not explain.

-"Yes, Yaron, it's over a year. Glad to see you again. What are you doing
here? I thought you lived in Jerusalem."

"- You're right! My wife and baby are at home in Jerusalem, but tonight I
will be staying here: I made a few suggestions for improvements to another
project I'm in charge of - which perhaps I'd like to discuss with you, and
they called me here for a series of meetings."

"I have just finished my last meeting today, I have another meeting tomorrow
at 06:00 and a friend of mine will be the soloist at the Israel Philharmonic
concert tonight.  So I will stay in Tel-Aviv for the night. I was just
playing ball with the guys, before I go to the Soldier's Residence for a
shower, a shave and dressing decently for the concert."

"-Your baby? A concert? You love classical music?"

"-Guilty on all counts, Colonel! Danny is three months old, and I myself
used to play the flute with the Young Philharmonic Orchestra!"

"- I didn't know! Congratulations for your Danny!"

It was difficult for me to put all those pieces together! In front of me
stood the most handsome exemplar of a human male, his strong, bare chest
covered with soft, velvety blond hair, that, with its slight shadow, added
to the definition of his worked-out pecs, with patches of sand clinging to
it, due to the sweat of the game, a darker trail going down, under his
shorts, looking at me with clear blue eyes, full of respect and something
that looked like admiration, and speaking to me about family, military
projects and classical music...
I tried to erase from my mind all lustful thoughts I might have harbored and
said:

"- Well, Yaron, if you want to discuss anything, business or whatever, I
don't have any other plans for tonight, we can have a beer here, or at my
hotel, or if you want,  have dinner - either before or after your concert."

"- Would you like to join me for the concert? I have two tickets, third row,
in the middle. My friend's treat! He is a promising young violinist; he has
studied with Isaac Stern."

"- Deal! Dinner - my treat. So, what did you want to discuss with me?"

Yaron asked for a moment, shouted something I did not understand to his
friends, throwed them the ball back, run away to where he had left his
things and came back carrying an army rucksack.

"- Sorry Colonel, but perhaps I should go to the Soldier's Residence before
we begin speaking business. I cannot meet with you like this. I must take a
shower."

My nose told me he was right, but I didn't bother, or perhaps I did even
enjoy the rough smell of the sweaty hunk.

"- As you wish.  But you can come to my hotel, two blocks from here, and
shower there. I'll have to take a shower myself..."

I couldn't believe I had said that. It seemed the little head in my pants
was doing the thinking now.

"- Well, Sir, if you don't mind..."

"- Lieutenant, let's keep it to Jack and Yaron for the evening, specially if
we are going to shower together!"

He joined me in my laughter and said:

"- Agreed!"

I felt the anticipated joy of a meeting. Just friendship I thought; may be
the camaraderie of partners in the old project. There was a kind of
attraction between us. Something in me was thinking other things: The little
friend in my pants twitched with anticipation, blood rushing to support it.
Yaron put on a green tee shirt, his tennis shoes, took his rucksack in one
hand, a hanger with his uniform in the other

"- Ready Sir, I mean - Jack..."

The clerk at the Sheraton's front-desk greeted me as usual, gave me my
messages, without giving a second look at Yaron, who said something about
the security of five stars hotels, and we climbed to my suite in the 22nd.
floor.
You see, being a highly paid executive, has some advantages, like having my
own luxury suite, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.
My suite had a little terrace, with two sun-beds where to relax under the
evening sun, a bathroom equipped with a Jacuzzi, a workroom with a desk, a
pair of comfortable armchairs, and a very well equipped bar. A huge TV set
and stereo gave all the available entertainment - as provided by the hotel.
The big king-size bed sent vibrations to the little friend in my pants...
I told Yaron to leave his things in the bedroom, gave him one of the two
white robes and slippers supplied by the hotel, showed him where the
bathroom was, and began working on my e-mail. About twenty minutes later, he
came out, freshly shaved, dressed with the white robe, which was a bit too
small for him. Yaron is about 6'4", with broad shoulders and very well built
  - the robe wouldn't close over his wide, triangular chest, was tight on
his thighs and was a little short for his muscular legs. However, the sight
was not a ridiculous sight but one of an extremely handsome, powerful, man,
bursting out of the white robe.

"- I'm sorry, Jack, I used your aftershave."

"- Be my guest."  - I said.

He smelled of my expensive aftershave, but his skin gave to it a musky
touch. Boy, I felt I needed a cold shower!

"- Come here and relax" - I told him, showing him to the sun-terrace, I
offered him a glass of whisky - the velvety single-malt I like, left him
basking under the setting sun and went for my shower."

I felt uneasy. I felt a strong attraction to this young fellow. I told you I
am a successful sales manager, happily married, pleased with my life and -
suddenly, to risk everything I am and I got, because a nice young officer,
that worked in a project of mine, is lying in my terrace, under the autumn
sun?
What is this attraction? Is it friendship? Is it the fondness for an eager
student? Is it a more basic, animal thing? Sex? Do I fancy him? Specially
him? Can't I get any woman I want?
I undressed in the bedroom, put on the second robe and went for the shower.

It was obvious I was not thinking as clear as ever. I opened the water and
let it run. First warm. Then hot. The water was running on my back. So
soothing... I tried to drift and relax. I turned the shower cooler. I wanted
to relax and get rid of this attraction. What was in this guy that he was so
attractive to me?

Yaron is about 6'4", has dark copper-blond, curly hair, he looks like
Michelangelo's David, with an aquiline nose. Muscular, with a broad chest
and neck, lean, with natural definition. When I saw him before, I was aware
of his size, but the loose military uniform he was wearing, did not reveal
the real forms of this man. Strong arms, but delicate hands: hands capable
of either playing music or, as well, with no apparent effort, to brake the
neck of an adversary, if need be. Muscular legs, like sculpted columns to
support such a structure and defined six-pack abs that speak of continuous
workout. Perhaps this, together with his leadership personality is the
secret of his animal attraction. It was obvious when he entered the room.
Most males would acknowledge him with respect, regardless of rank. Most
females, would melt...
So it was not only I the one attracted to this guy.
Could it be perhaps a special scent he has. He's got always a clean scent,
as if he just left the shower. Even when he was sweaty, he would not smell
badly. His scent was strong, manly, but not offensive. It was almost
pleasant. And I don't fancy smelly men. After my training in Panama, where
we did sweat and share the same tent after sweating in the jungle, the last
thing that would turn me on was the smell of sweat. And this guy had a
strange scent...
Could it be the master-student relation we built? He always looked at me
with a kind of respect and appreciation when we worked together, perhaps the
same kind of feeling I felt for him. Was it mutual?

My little head was thinking thoughts of its own. As much as I tried to relax
and calm down, it was calling for blood to fill and engorge my dick.
OK. I feel attracted. Shall I risk my position, my working relation, my
friendship, just for a bit of steamy embrace - that is not like me.
I turned the water to "Cold", let it run for a moment, while shivering all
along, and once calmed, I shaved myself and decided to go out and face the
danger.
I had left Yaron on the sun deck, with a glass of my single malt.
He was asleep.
The glass was half empty on the table.
The robe was open, his manhood, erect. It was an appalling sight. I was not
prepared for it. I felt like peeping on someone's intimacy. My mouth was
watering. I felt called by his powerful, big dick. It was towering close to
8". Without thinking I came closer, really close. I sat on the second sun
bed. I leaned towards that dick. I was about to take it in my mouth. I
smelled the fresh scent from the shower. To hell with all my reservations!
My own dick was about to explode.

I had a flashback from Panama.

Pete and I were sent to the same training in the jungle, with many other
recruits. We were close. We were sharing the same tent. The last night we
were in the tents, we got a few beers. Perhaps a few beers too many. We had
the last beer in the tent. We were past sobriety. I remember taking off my
clothes and lying down to sleep. And then, Pete's mouth, hot and wet was on
my dick. He was teasing me with his tongue. I thought I never had such an
erection. He started licking my shaft. I was shivering. I kept my eyes
closed. I didn't want him to stop. He began caressing my thighs, my legs, my
butt. I began moaning. He was sucking my dick as if his life depended on
that. I felt like I would explode. And explode I did! I don't remember
having come like this before. He sucked and sucked. My dick almost hurt. He
sucked me dry. But we never spoke about this. The next morning, we received
new assignments and our ways parted.

I felt I don't want to have Yaron like that.

If we are to engage in sex, I want Yaron to share the moment with me. I
don't want to have him while he is asleep - or while he seems to be asleep.
What shall I do now?
If I'll wake him now, it will be too embarassing for both of us. I went back
to the bathroom.

"- Hi Yaron! Did I take too long? Don't fall asleep!" - I called before
leaving the bathroom.
He sprang like bitten by a snake, closed the robe, crossed his powerful legs
to hide the mast protruding between them, he blushed, ashamed and
embarrassed, and said:

"- Sorry, Jack, I think I fell asleep..."

I feigned not having seen him, offered some more whiskey and sat besides
him.

The Panamanian flashback kept hunting me. It is not easy for me to handle
that memory. I did not tell you exactly all that happened. Pete Salinas and
I have been horsing around for some time, drinking together, bragging about
our conquests, just like any other pair of guys in the base, but that was
the cover as we were unknowingly, secretly, preparing for action. During the
nights, Pete began bringing his mat close to mine. While we were supposedly
sleeping, he would put his body against mine. Sometimes, he'd bring close
only his butt. Just pushing his butt against my dick. I felt his eager ass
thru my boxers. He wanted me full of shame. Other times he'd press his dick
on my body. He got hard against my thigh. Moving softly in order not to wake
me. But I was waiting for it. I enjoyed it.  No thoughts about homosexuals,
gays, improper conduct for a recruit or whatever you may call it. I was not
thinking with my head. He was playing on me like making music. It was my
pleasure. And that was all it counted. We never crossed the line.
But the last night we spent together, we knew our ways would part. We had an
exercise under the rain. It always rained in the jungle. The booze was only
a pretext. I went to bed naked. Supposedly, I was too tired to put on dry
underwear. I was signaling I was ready for more than rubbing one against the
other. Pete only waited for the signal. He waited until I began breathing
deeply as if asleep. He went then for my dick. He turned with his head to my
dick, backwards; his face in my groin; his lips on the head of my dick. His
tongue licking fast the head, the shaft, my balls. His groin was in front of
me. He was naked too. The acrid smell of his groin was hitting my nose. I
was aroused. And yes, I was a little bit drunk. And wanting. So, when he put
all my dick in his mouth, when he swallowed my dick deep in his throat,
giving me a feeling that was hotter and warmer and wetter than any cunt I
had before, I grabbed Pete's dick in my own mouth and began to reciprocate.
It was so great what I felt, that I wanted to give him back part of my
pleasure. To get Pete's dick in my mouth was no easy task. He is of Mexican
stock, short, dark and broad. His dick is not long, some 6" in all, but I
never saw a wider one. When the platoon went to the showers, Pete's dick was
the subject of admiration and jokes. I had to force open my mouth to get
that monster in. With my lips I pushed his foreskin back and tasted that
hidden flavor of his. The dark, silky head of his prick filled my mouth. And
that was the moment, when I was sucking Pete's huge dick, which he was
pushing to the back of my mouth, that I felt mine get really hard as steel,
and big and stiff and broad, bigger than ever, and I went over the edge. My
semen flowed like water. At the same time Pete's sperm rushed into my moth,
he filled me with his cum, which I swallowed willingly. Four, five, six
gushes of his thick fluid. He then sucked me dry and I dried him up too,
drinking up to the last drop of his thick, sweet, sperm. No signs to be
left, no proof that anything happened.

In the morning I told him I was too drunk and I did not remember anything
that happened the night before - and he too told me he had been drunk
himself; the typical way to bury unwanted memories, memories we were not
ready to accept; we then packed all belongings and said goodbye without too
many words. Only when I was to take my bus, he came and embraced me. We
haven't seen each other since then.

Having told the real story for the first time, I feel much better. I never
told this to anyone. It was easier for me to pretend the events of that
night were the result of drunkenness - or even that Pete took advantage of
me, than accepting that both of us wanted one another, and that we enjoyed
pleasing each other. Since then, I had occasionally, some men. No long-term
relations. I became aware that I enjoy men, as I enjoy being with women.

I got married with my sweetheart from High school and I have 2 wonderful
kids. As I told you, they are now studying at the University. I'd never do
anything to hurt them.
However, rejecting my homosexual side would have been denying myself. In my
scheme of thought, I kind of live in two different dimensions: In one I am
the loving father and husband, truthful and reliable, and in some other
dimension, where one aspect does not rival the other, I like to have sex
with men. The two dimensions do not intersect and I would not let them
interfere. And if need be, I know very well which one I am going to
sacrifice for the sake of the other. Having said that, I can now let those
experiences become warm memories and go back to Yaron.

"- I'll have another glass of scotch" -I said- "Will you join me?"

"- I don't know. I fell asleep..."

He lowered his eyes, looking at the thing protruding between his legs and
raised his eyes looking at me. He stared at the tent that rose in front of
me, the shadow of a smile flashed over his lips, he looked me sternly in the
eyes and said:

"- Yes. I'll join you."

It was my turn to blush. Was I reading him right? Or did he mean to join me
for a whisky? Was he playing with me?
I served us both, generously, brought some cheese crackers from the bar, and
sat down.
Yaron opened:

"- I didn't know you were here, Jack. How long is it since you arrived? Are
you staying for long?"

"- I'll be here just for this week. I'm flying back Friday evening."

"- Then I met you by sheer chance. I am glad for that. I have been thinking
for sometime I had to talk to you. And thank you: You were the only person
to listen to me, when I was isolated by the system. Only when you adopted my
suggestions, the big bosses understood what I was bringing and my career
flourished again. Thanks!"

"- Yaron, it is me the one in debt. If it wouldn't have been for your
commitment, I wouldn't have listened. That project ended being the most
important in my career. I think then we are even."

I didn't want gratitude to stand between us.
We spoke about the project, about new ideas, about our mutual professional
future. We explored things we shared. Things we liked. Or disliked. We were
approaching each other as human beings, learning to trust the other,
unconsciously cleaning the scene for more intimate steps. We were becoming
really close. I looked at my watch.

"- Let's go and get dressed. If not, we will not have time for dinner before
the concert..."

I had chickened out. It was so good being close to Yaron, I did not want to
ruin the moment being too forward.
We went to the bedroom, where our clothes were.
Yaron and I dropped our robes, without staring at each other, as men do at
the locker room in the gym. I noticed Yaron gave half a step in my
direction, then froze. I looked at him. He was standing naked, petrified,
looking at me, with a special look in his eyes, both sweet and tormented, as
if asking for something... I couldn't think. I gave a step forward and - he
fell in my arms... It was the sweetest embrace I remember. No words were
needed. It was strong, manly embrace, our arms holding tight, tight as if
life depended on that. We stood there, embracing, without any movement. He
is 6'4", some 4" higher than me; I buried my face in his shoulder, my lips
in his neck. The perfume of my own aftershave on him was driving me mad. I
felt something wet and warm fall on my shoulder. He was crying! I kissed
him. I felt a moment of hesitation and then, Yaron kissed me back, with all
his soul. It was my tongue in his mouth, then his in mine, tongue seeking
for tongue, mouth for mouth, soul for soul.
Our hands began to explore each other's back, shoulders, necks. He put his
powerful hands behind my ears, pushing my mouth toward his. My hands slowly
sloping down from his shoulders, down his mighty back, broad lats, tense in
the embrace, to his thin hips, resting just above the curve of his bubble
round gluts.
I felt his dick going back to a half erection, while mine was hard as a
rock. His dick was pressing, almost hurting my pubic region. His hands were
"surveying" my back, as learning every muscle, every sign. Though I am some
twenty years his senior, I am 6" tall, well built and I keep training at the
gym. Many twenty years old gym goers look at me with approval, with envy.
And Yaron, by the way he was caressing my back, was approving and enjoying
my bod. As I was enjoying his.
I gave a step back and, without breaking the kiss nor the embrace, we both
fell on the bed.
We began looking for an easier position, looking each other in the eyes, I
kissed his throat, his shoulders, his pecs. His nipples began to harden, to
swell. I fell on them, kissing, licking, biting, nibbling at them. Yaron
began to breath deeper, to moan. One nipple, then the other. He closed his
eyes. One of his hands was in my neck, the other in my back. Suddenly, with
the swiftness of a catch fighter, he turned me on my back and went down to
take care of my nipples. It was my turn to close my eyes and surrender to
him. He grabbed my hands, one by one, stretched them over my head and licked
my armpits. He licked my nipples with wet lips, sucking on them.
Shivers went down my spine, concentrating in my dick. He licked my pecs, and
went down to my navel, his tongue exploring my belly-button, then following
the trail of hairs going from my navel to my pubs, until he had me with my
legs wide open, his hands in my sides, his head over my cock, and after a
very short hesitation, he went for it, grabbed my dick, opened his lips and
sweetly began to suck it. Feeling his wet, hot mouth on my dickhead was
delicious. I couldn't stand not to reciprocate. I turned myself to a 69
position and went for his dick. I was on my knees and elbows. He was under
me. He had my dick in his mouth, his eyes closed, his hands in my
ass-cheeks. I rejoiced my eyes looking at him: After a long summer under the
sun, his lean body had that special bronze colour, that only blond people
can get, but his cock was white, marble white, as it was kept hidden. All of
Yaron's body was golden-bronze, but for the triangle that was covered by his
bathing suit. He has a beautiful, huge, cock. I reclined my head on his
copper-golden pubs, kissed his hard shaft. I rose to the tip. A large
pink-purplish head, soft and sensitive, called for me. Yaron almost jumped
at the first contact of my lips on his head. Extending my tongue, I licked
the border of his head, all around. I opened my mouth and brought my lips to
engulf all his dick's head. Yaron moaned. I was working his head with the
tip of my tongue. Yaron was sucking my dick and moaning at the same time. I
remembered what Pete had done to me, filled my lungs with air, opened my
throat and went down on Yaron until my nose was almost touching his balls. I
was amazed I could have all that cock inside of me, deep in my throat.
Slowly, I began to bob my head up and down.  Every time I went down, Yaron
would moan. I kept on, as long as I could hold my breath. I could feel his
abs begin to tighten. I didn't want the moment to end yet, so I left his
dick, regained my breath and buried my nose in the fuzzy gold covering his
balls. He understood what I was at, so he left for a while my cock,
caressing my thighs and legs. I got one of his balls in my mouth, then the
other. What a mouthful it was! But then, as if by mutual unspoken agreement,
we both went back to each other's dick. I wanted him so hard! And hard he
was!

I took him in my mouth, enjoying the size, the softness of his skin, the
hardness of his dick. I had him again deep in my throat. I felt I was
driving him crazy. I went on. I could see his balls begin to rise, his toes
- to curve, his cock - to get stiffer, his hips - to raise and fall to my
rhythm. I felt the eruption was coming, I rose a pair of inches, until his
dick was only reaching the back of my mouth, I took my breath, and full of
anticipation, I gave one more sway of my head and a powerful cry-moan came
from Yaron's mouth, where my own cock was buried - as he burst in my mouth.
I felt the hot semen of his, rushing in my mouth. His cum in my mouth,
together with the warmth of Yaron's mouth closing back on my dick, made me
go over the brink, and release what seemed to be a river of cum. I felt my
mouth full of Yaron's mighty fluid, which tasted at the same time strange
and salty and marvelous to me. Oh, how I liked to drink this elixir...

Yaron himself drank my love-fluids, eager, thirsty, as if after a march in
the Negev desert.
I did not count how many gushes of cum sprang from his dick - how could I?,
nor from mine, but I'd swear we could have filled a glass - and even so, it
would have not calmed our thirst for more...
Spent, I turned back to embrace him again, and kiss him again, tasting in
his mouth my own semen. It was me, the executive, the former military man,
the former ELINT man, tasting semen in the mouth of a young Captain of a
friendly foreign army, embracing in bed a fellow officer. And I did not have
any regrets. It was a wonderful moment of peace.

However...
"Post coitum omnia animal triste", said the Roman poet, i.e.: After fucking,
every animal is sad - including, of course, man.
I heard Yaron sob. He was shaking in my arms.

"- What happened with you? Why are you crying?"

"- Jack, I wanted this to happen for a long time. I have been thinking about
you, almost since the project. I am OK with our encounter. What is bothering
me is ...  (a terrible sob shocked him and chocked him) ...  my wife, my
son..."

"- Captain! Get yourself together! "

I shouted at him, like giving an order and stood up. And continued:

"- What is the nonsense you are speaking about? What changed with you in the
last four hours? Did you stop loving Debbie? Don't you love your wife any
more? Aren't you any longer Danny's loving father?"

Yaron was obviously shocked. He didn't expect this type of reaction.

"- Yes, I love them, more than anything else in my life. But I have cheated
on them..."

"- Cheated? Denying the attraction and affection between us was to cheat on
you, to cheat on ourselves. Stop the nonsense. Our relation is not competing
with them, I am not a rival of theirs! Your family and myself are - and
shall be - in different planes of reality in our lives. I don't have any
doubt where your commitment stands, the same as you know what my feelings
are for my wife and family, where my basic duty is. And we both know that
the same as we pledged our duty to our countries and we are ready even to
sacrifice our life, if need be; we have our duty, we are committed, to our
families, above all. So lets keep this night as a short parenthesis in our
duties. Look at you. We are not as proper, as we should. Let's get tidy as
fits two officers! I see we'll have to skip dinner for now, because we have
a concert and we cannot keep the orchestra waiting!
Instinctively, Yaron stood at attention to my commanding voice. Then he got
the absurdity of the situation. A broad smile broke Yaron's face:

"- You're right, Sir!"

He swept away the sincere tears that rolled from his eyes and said, softly:

"- Thanks, Jack! You are right!"

And then, in a casual way, but looking me in the eyes Yaron added:

"-You gave me back my peace of mind."

I could only embrace him. My throat chocked.
He broke the embrace and shook my hand, with a firm, warm and strong
handshake and then, he went back to the bathroom, where I joined him for a
short clean up (with no "foul-play"), we dressed up and in a few moments we
were in the cab that would take us to the concert hall.

Just before we arrived, his cellular phone rang. It seems that everyone in
Israel has a cellular phone. It was Debbie, Yaron's wife. He spoke with her
in English, both for my sake and, as well for hers, as she is American born.
It was a regular, loving, husband and wife conversation, which included some
words to little Danny too. He told Debbie about our meeting at the beach,
that we discussed business, that he had invited me to his friend's concert
and I had reciprocated inviting him for dinner. Debbie instructed Yaron to
invite me for dinner Friday evening, (I had met her in the past); however as
I was scheduled to fly home that Friday, I was to take a rain check.
That call really brought back peace to Yaron.
While Yaron went to get the tickets left for him by his friend at the ticket
office, I managed to cross the street, find a drugstore and buy condoms - an
officer should always be ready for action...
The concert was superb. Yaron's friend played Mendelssohn's Concert for
Violin as a well-seasoned virtuoso. As an "encore" he played a Partita for
Violin Solo from Bach, a real display of virtuosity. The last time I had
heard that Partita, it was by Yehudi Menuhim, then close to ninety years
old. I told the young virtuoso, when we met after the concert, that his
performance reminded me the one by the great Maestro. Yaron and his friend
were flattered. We stayed there for a while, after which Yaron and I went to
a good restaurant, as we both were in a superb mood - and starving... After
supper, we took a cab and went back to my hotel room.
"- Yaron, I'd like you to stay for the nigh  ...
It was quite late for him to go to the Soldier's Residence, and neither of
us really wanted him to go. He looked me with playful eyes and agreed.
We undressed with no hurry, prepared our things for next day, brushed our
teeth and, together, went to bed naked. He laid down, on the right side of
the bed (I always sleep on the left side), while I set the wake-up call. I
turned out the lights and turned to embrace him. This time we knew we'll
have all the night for us and we would enjoy every minute of it. But we knew
as well, that we had only that night, as I had to leave by the week's end
...
Yaron leaned on his left arm and rose his right one, rising the bed covers,
to welcome me. I entered his arms, my right arm under his head, my hand on
his rigth shoulder, and my left arm under his right one, holding him in a
tight, strong, manly embrace. His embrace was really tight ,strong. I held
him tighter. He just mumbled:

"- Hold me tighter, stronger, until it hurts ..."

"- What?" - said I.

"- Shut up and hold me ..."

I did embrace him as tight as I could. It was a moment of a strange
closeness and tenderness. I caressed him with my cheek. His right hand
caressing my back. I let my left hand play on his back, his thigh, the small
of his back, again, the top of his gluts .
I felt the beginning of the cleft between his ass cheeks. Soft hair gave me
the feeling of velvet. He rose a bit his left leg, to let me feel the
humidity between his ass-cheeks. I could feel him getting hard against my
thigh. I sled my left leg between his legs. He crossed his right leg over
mine, doubling the embrace. I pushed my left leg hard upwards, pushing my
knee against his ass. He moaned. His dick was stabbing my side. My own cock,
hardened and engrossed was pushing against his belly.
I felt every inch of his body with every inch of mine. His strong limbs
against mine. His left hand rose to my neck and with a swift movement,
turned my head away from his neck, my mouth in front of his and we kissed
again. His breath was sweet to me, his tongue was tickling mine and I was
almost on top of him.
I knew I was going to have him .
I think he understood my thoughts, as he crossed his legs around my back,
bringing his rosebud to touch the head of my dick. His breath became
heavier. His embrace, tighter. His kisses, eager. I felt hard as steel.
I tried to losen the hold of him to reach first for the condoms and KY. He
whispered:

"- I'm clean..."

"- So am I. But in order to stay clean and for the sake of discipline, let's
go by the rules."

"- You're right" - He answered and a smile rose to his face. And he released
the grip of his legs .
I stretched and got all the safe sex paraphernalia. My dick was towering,
hard and eager with anticipation. I put a small dab of KY and spread it on
my dickhead. It felt cold. Just in time. I was so excited that two more
minutes and I would have had a premature ejaculation. I lubricated my shaft
and put some more cream in the condom. I rolled down the rubber until it
reached my pubs. I never gave any attention to that in full erection, the
base of the shaft was covered with pubs. Now I was dressed for the occasion!
Generously, I lubricated my rubber-covered dick and began to take care of
Yaron's butt. I began caressing him by circling my lubricated fingers around
and around his ass-bud. I spiralled toward the center. He opened his legs
wider and wider, rising them, offering me full access to his hole. I felt
his ass pulsating under my fingers and opening to accommodate me. I pushed
one finger inside of him. His warm, wet insides were asking for more. A
second finger followed, as soon as I felt Yaron to relax. I could feel two
musculr rings forming Yaron's ass, I pushed against the most internal one,
which opened into a wet and warm cavity. Slowly, his muscles relaxed. I
begun to pump my fingers in and out. Yaron moaned softly. He was relaxed.
Waiting. I took some more KY, added a bit on his ass,  another on my hot
dick and got ready for the action. I brought the engorged head of my penis
to softly touch Yaron's ass.  He shivered. I pushed, slowly increasing the
pressure until I felt him opening up. And even more slowly, I began to enter
him. He closed his eyes. All his senses were centred in his ass. I didn't
want to hurt him. My dickhead was inside of him. I stopped, waiting for him
to relax.
Yaron lowered his feet, that he had held high, pointing to the ceiling,
rested them on my shoulders to relax his muscles and, using my shoulders as
a rest, raised his ass, impaling himself in my dick. So I pushed forward
half an inch and waited again.
I noted he held his breath, with closed his eyes, while I was pressing
forward. He took his breath as I stopped and opened his eyes with a smile. I
backed off half an inch and then pushed forward one full inch, with his
help, rising his ass. Slowly, very slowly, as in a primitive dance, we
repeated the ritual again and again, until my full dick was inside of him.
I waited for a moment, for Yaron to feel comfortable. He relaxed his legs
from my shoulders, opening them wide. I leaned forward to embrace him. He
embraced me in a double embrace: his arms around my shoulders, his legs
crossed around my back. A broad smile broke in his face.

"I got you.  I have you inside my arms, inside my legs, inside my ass,
inside of me. And I enjoy it!"

We kissed. I began with the old moves, in and out, softly, slowly. And
Yaron, bracing himself from his legs, began mirroring my movements. We
increased the rithm and I felt all the power grow in my loins. I felt his
strong, muscular legs crossed around my hips, raising his ass to meet my
dick, thrusting forward and then it became clear to me:  Yaron was fucking
my dick with his ass! This was not sex wih a passive, submissive lilly, but
real sex between two men! Boy, I was getting close to the brink and then, he
did the last thing I expected: at the end of the thrust, when my pubs were
touching his hole, he delicately tightened his anal muscles, squeezing my
dick - which was too much for me and with a powerful shout, I bursted,
spilling volumes of cum within him, and falling, spent,  in his arms. And at
that moment, even before I stretched my hand to his dick, to finish him off,
a loud moan burst from his throat, powerful contractions from his ass
squeezed my still hard dick, as he came, sending spurts of white love cream
on my chest, without either me or him stroking his erect member, just from
the excitement of our love making. We stayed in that contorted embrace for
some time, oh sweet time, until I thought he was getting uncomfortable and I
withdraw from inside of him, while still holding each other in our embrace.
I kissed him dearly, rose to go to the bathroom, to dispose off the used
condom, and get a bit tidy. I came back to Yaron with a hot wet towel to
clean him. He let me do. Surrendering to me. I throwed the towel to the
ground, layed down, kissed Yaron softly again, sweetly, on is lips, embraced
him and we dozed away until the morning.

I waked up at about 6:00 o'clock. Inside of Yaron's arms. My back was
relaxing on his chest. His hands were holding my chest. I felt warm inside
his embrace. I caressed his strong arms, surrounding me. He stirred against
me. I felt his dick, almost limp, sitting between my as cheeks. I felt his
bush against the small of my back. It felt really nice. What a way to wake
up!! Yaron said:

"- Awake? It is still too early..."

"- What about yourself?"

"- I enjoy feeling you against me."

"- Well, perhaps this is the time for me to reciprocate you."

"- You don't have to."

I turned over, kissed him, and said:

"- I want to. But first things first. Back in a minute."

And I went to the bathroom. After a long leek, I sat down to get rid of
yesterday's supper, and then to clean myself. I took care to dry that last
drop in the tip of my dick - just in case Yaron may come to suck me again.
And I washed carefully my rear end, more careful than ususal, preparing for
him. A few drops of my good perfume in my crotch and between my ass cheeks,
and after an almost bridal preparation, I went back to the bedroom. Yaron
was asleep again, on his back, his legs wide spread, his dick, resting,
limp, soft on his left leg. The sheets had dropped to the floor. I climbed
on the bed, from the feet side, my head was close to Yaron's slumbering
cock.
Slowly, sweetly, delicately, I kissed his dickhead and took the soft, limp
cock in my mouth. Yaron stirred and moaned, still asleep. I felt the joyous
sensation of having his full dick in my mouth. My nostrils filled with his
manly scent. Not smell. He did not smell. Just a powerful manly natural
scent. He was still soft. And then, as in an act of creation, I felt the
veins in his dick began to beat, pumped by his powerful heart beat, as blood
was being called. It was not easy now to hold all his dick inside my mouth.
I begun to suck, sweetly, softly. And the dick was growing in my mouth. It
was half an erection. It was still flexible. Half hard. I tried to swallow
it in my throat. Yaron was moaning high. Awake.

"- Jack, what a wonderful way to wake up..."

"- I'm glad you enjoy the wakeup call. Wait for the breakfast I am
preparing..."

I don't know how much he heard. His dick head was the one thinking now, as
he begun moving his hips, fucking my face, my mouth.
His dick was absolutely hard, ready for action.
I left it for a moment and rose to kiss him, kiss to which he responded
hotly. I sat on top of him, with both my legs to his sides, feeling his dick
by my ass.

"- I want to give you this" - I said.

He looked at me with his beatyfull eyes.
I took a second condom and the tube of KY. Dropped to the side, and begun
dressing him for action. It was not small feat to put him a standard condom
on that dick. I made a mess with all the lube I put him. As well as all the
lube I put in my own ass. I had brought the opening of the lube tube inside
my ass hole and squeezed a huge amount of lube inside.
I mounted him, and straddling him again I rose my butt. I took his hard dick
with my right hand, using the left one to support myself on Yaron's chest. I
brought the head to my ass hole until I felt contact. A shiver went along my
spine. It was huge.

"- I am OK, I don't want to hurt you..."

"- I want you Yaron, inside of me."

I bent forward to kiss him and pushed a bit my ass on that dick. I pressed
down. I felt my ass widening. I opened it a bit, as if preparing to expel
something from my guts, opening the chanel, to facilitate his entrance. I
pushed a bit more. I felt a spark of pain. His head was halfway in. I took
my breath. Waited a pair of seconds and pressed down a bit more. I touched
with my right hand, the one that was guiding him inside of me. The head was
inside. Did it hurt? Yes, a bit. Was it unpleasant? By no means, no. I rose
a bit and pushed down. Again and again. Slowly, no hurry at all. Up and
down, as he begun- again - to mimic my movements. It was just like a duet
playing a Fugue from Bach. One voice, then the other, answering the first,
playing its own music, but at the same time, the other voice music as well,
in perfect armony. Making armony. I was rising and lowering myself on his
pole. My respiration was get ting faster, as was his. I was enjoying that.
But I wanted more. This was a position in which I was mastering him. He was
in my ass, but still, I felt I was fucking him. So I closed my legs under
him, grabbed his shoulders, and turned aside, bringing him on top of me.

"- Yaron, please, fuck me. Fuck me hard!"

I said, and opened my legs, my ass wide.
I was not prepared for that ride.
He begun to fuck me with all his rithm, with all his strength. I felt his
cock move in my entrails, reaching deep inside me, in places I neveer dremt
of, sensations I never had. I was reciprocating in this dance, wild dance,
primitive and primordial dance, at the same rithm. I was trying to do what
he did the night before. I did not feel like a femme or any bit less than
him. We were building something really great. And I wanted more. I began to
feel something twitch inside of me. Something growing. My dick was hard.
Rock hard. My body was getting hard. My toes were closing. His moans were
loud, he bent to kiss me, his breath was running like a steam engine. And
his dick in and out of me, plowing me, about to seed me...
I tried to contract my ass as he did, as I felt his thrust deep inside: I
catched his cock with that! And at the same time, in that mighty thrust of
him, in that contraction of mine, be both spurted and came...
He mad two three more thrusts, softer, less urged ones, and I relaxed,
opening wide...
It was over, but what a fuck it was... My ass was tender, aching a bit, but
joy went out of every pore of mine. He kissed me again and I did kiss him
again on the mouth, as he began to withdraw from inside of me. As soon as he
was out, he dropped besides me.

"- Good morning, Jack dear. This is becoming a habit. A sweet habit. I want
it to continue..."

We looked inside the eyes of each other. Dawn was filling the room with
light. We had to go to the office, to our presentations, to our work, and
then, I would fly away...

I would have to leave. We knew that both. But we knew as well that I was to
return. To each other. Soon.

Would you be surprised if I tell you that after some 7-8 very successful
business trips to Israel, I am having my company to open a fixed
representation there?