Date: Sun, 13 Mar 2016 06:05:29 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Lonnie the Sailor Boy (Mm, Top/bottom, Military/Leather)

Lonnie The Sailor Boy
by Jon Hold
Copyright © 2005, 2016
jonhold@earthlink.net


Lonnie was just tall enough, by dint of much stretching and two pairs of
thick wool socks, to meet the minimum height requirements of the US
Navy. Having a cute baby face and not needing to shave more than once or
twice a month didn't help a lot either. He managed to get in the Navy
anyway and had done well in boot camp. "A" school had been a trial. The
Navy, in it's infinite wisdom, had decided that Lonnie should be a
Corpsman. Lonnie had never been all that good at school, but all the
medical stuff he was learning actually seemed important, and
interesting. With the help of some of his classmates, Lonnie did well and
was posted to the dockside Dispensary on Coronado Island across the bay
from San Diego.

Lonnie had one major problem, well, two actually. The first was immediately
apparent in the group showers the Navy required: Lonnie's diminutive body
carried eight inches of swinging meat with balls to match. This was a thing
that caught others attention. And caused comment. Comments that Lonnie was
all to tired of hearing. Lonnie's body was smooth and hard. No fat anywhere
and no hair below his ears except small patches under his arms and
immediately above the wide base of his crank. Lonnie had a general beauty
usually found only in much younger boys. The comments about what the girls
were likely to do to him bothered Lonnie the most. Lonnie didn't have much
interest in girls. What turned Lonnie on the most was men. Big, strong,
hairy men. Men with cocks, and the personal force to use them.

It started in Boot Camp, with guys ogling him in the showers. Lonnie hadn't
been naked in front of other people since he was a baby and having other
guys eyeball him made him feel funny inside. In Hospital Corps School
Lonnie learned more of life and started to realize that having other guys
interested in his body interested him. In fact, having guys watch him in
the showers made him downright horny. He started putting on little shows
for the guys; wagging his hips, flopping his dick around while he
"innocently" dried off. Turning his back to a couple of watchers and then
bending over, taking his time washing his toes as they drooled over his
tight ass and dangling balls. By the time Lonnie graduated from Corps
School and started working at the dispensary he was a regular little
show-off. Having older, huskier guys watching him in the enlisted barracks
showers became the major turn-on in Lonnie's life. He'd always been a
bright, happy sort of person, but "Lonnie's Shower Hour" became the central
pivot in his daily life, the one thing he looked forward to more than
anything else.

Woods, one of the First Class Petty Officers that lived in the barracks,
took a personal interest in Lonnie, sort of mentoring him by telling him
sea stories and showing him the ways of the world. One Saturday Woods took
Lonnie to the Seven Seas, sort of a glorified department store for sailors
and Marines. The super-masculine atmosphere really turned Lonnie on. Studly
sea-going sailors were all over the place, any number of them eyeballing
Lonnie's trouser snake and tight butt. Woods suggested that if Lonnie
really wanted to look good, he should buy a set of tailored whites. The
next thing Lonnie knew he was closed in a small room, stripped to his
skivvies, with a good looking older man. The tailor took Lonnie's
measurements in a routine, almost bored manner until he tried to measure
Lonnie's thighs. The right leg of Lonnie's military issue white-cotton
boxer shorts had a big lump of balls filling the material. The tailor
seemed to deal with that OK, but he became totally flustered when he
encountered the log that seemed to fill the left leg of Lonnie's skivvy
shorts.

The following Saturday both tailors helped Lonnie get into his new tailored
white uniform. They took him into the small measuring room and had him
strip naked. Both men started acting like real queens and Lonnie
gracefully, even eagerly, accepted their homage as the two vaporish
Nelly's, with eager, shaking hands, first dressed Lonnie in new,
hand-tailored, skivvy shorts and shirt, both designed to gently grasp and
hold smoothly to Lonnie's hard little body and genital equipment without
leaving a wrinkle that might distort his new uniform. Hands caressed
Lonnie's body as both men helped smooth on the tight-fitting new
bell-bottom trousers and properly adjust the Velcro'ed fly. Lonnie and the
tailors ran their hands over Lonnie's high-rising ass, grinning at each
other in pleased satisfaction over the smooth, flawless fit. Lonnie was
getting turned on by looking at his own ass in the mirrored walls.

Walking through early-evening downtown San Diego in his new white uniform
was a major turn-on for Lonnie. The more the guys and gals eyeballed him,
the prouder he walked. Shoulders back, hips thrust forward in blatant
sexual show and invitation. Lonnie was horny, in a daze from all the
eyeball rape he'd been subjected to and the feeling of his semi-turgid
shaft being rolled back and forth across his hairless thigh by his tight,
new uniform as he walked the wet streets. Loud, sensuous music with a heavy
beat attracted his attention. This part of town was dark, street-lamps far
apart and the lighting on the bars and porn shops dim. Lonnie stood in the
doorway leading to the hot music watching the seething mass of
humanity. The door bouncer was so turned on by the short stud that he
didn't think to ID the kid. Lonnie waded into the throng and was
immediately submerged in the wanton sexuality of the place. Someone put a
cold beer in his hand and groped his ass. Lonnie smiled "thanks" and moved
on. Every time his beer got even close to low, someone would hand him a
cold one, usually exacting a quick grope and/or kiss. The more relaxed the
beer made him, the more Lonnie enjoyed the groping he was getting, even
after it dawned on him that the entire place was filled with guys. Not even
one woman to be seen anywhere, except a few Queens who were quite obviously
men in drag. Lonnie decided he didn't care and the drunker he got, the more
he flaunted himself.

Needing to piss, Lonnie managed to get a spot in front of the trough in the
crowded mens room. Tearing open his Velcro'ed zipper and spreading the
flaps wide, Lonnie reached into his white boxers and flopped out enough
cock that he had to hold it up to keep it out of everyone else's
piss. Gasps and various lewd comments filled the room as his piss-slit
opened and a heavy stream of golden charm splattered forth. Groaning with
pleasure, Lonnie arched his back and gave everyone an unobstructed
view. Finally shaking off the last drops, Lonnie grinned at his audience
and dropped the center of attention down his pant leg without hiding it
behind the thin curtain of his boxer shorts. Still fastening his pants,
Lonnie swaggered out of the stink of piss and randy men.

Lonnie expected someone to hand him another beer, but everyone's eyes were
focused on the bar where half-a-dozen young studs were twisting and
gyrating to the loud go-go music. "Well, hell!" the horny young sailor
thought, "Those studs ain't shit!" He pushed his way through the crowd but
the guys right next to the bar were all huge and someone Lonnie's size
simply didn't stand a chance of breaking through. Frustrated, Lonnie
reached through the legs of the wall of black leather directly between him
and the bar and grabbed the guy by the leather covered mound that more than
filled his hand. The guy turned and looked over his shoulder. Lonnie
motioned for the big stud to move aside.

"You want up on the Bar, Little Man?"

Lonnie put his hands on his hips and nodded a somewhat drunken but
definite, "Yes!"

Without moving his feet the guy half-turned and lifted Lonnie up to his
eye-level, "You better dance that fanny off, boy, or Daddy's gonna spank it
off!" With a huge laugh, echoed by his neighbors, the huge guy effortlessly
put Lonnie up on the bar.

Keeping eyeball contact with the stud who had put him up on the bar, Lonnie
began to dance. He had always loved to dance, but only alone, in his room,
moving to the heavy beat of the music he loved until he collapsed into his
bed, sweating, spooging into the running shorts he liked to wear. To lay
there panting and quivering as he pumped his jockstrap full of hot, smelly
cum. Now it was the same, only a thousand times more-so. Not just one, but
a hundred, more than a hundred hot human stallions were watching his every
move, and every move of his got more and more lewd as his fantasy became
reality.

His shoes came off first, kicked off behind the bar. Then one of the other
young extroverts up on the bar helped him unzip his new tunic and pull it
off over his head. Putting his white "Dixie Cup" back on, a job made more
difficult by the beer he'd been drinking. Dancing to the hot disco music
dressed just in his tight, white sailor pants and the form-fitting, virgin
white t-shirt that showed off every muscle and bulge of his hard-muscled
torso and six-pack belly really turned on the impressionable boy. And when
he turned around, squatted down and shook his booty, the
not-so-young-but-increasingly-horny older men watching became more and more
determined to take the boy somewhere private, as soon as possible! Lonnie
just laughed and teased as he smelled the randy men surrounding him,
obviously enjoying their attention and showing off as much as possible to
keep their attention and increase their lust.

The other dancers were stripping down further, some of them completely
naked, trying to keep some small share of the audiences
attention. One-by-one, they were being pulled down off the bar to make more
room for the remaining contestants. None of the boys had a chance to pout
over loosing though, the studs taking them off the bar were more than happy
to take their prizes to the bars notorious back room where the boys were
made to suck and fuck until they were delirious.

Lonnie was already delirious, and it showed. He LOVED dancing for older men
who were lusting after his body. He couldn't believe how turned-on he got
just being watched and occasionally groped. It was hot. He was
sweating. His tight new t-shirt joined his other clothes behind the bar. He
danced like he had never danced before. The sweat ran in rivulets down his
gleaming body, his dark brown aureola swollen, small nipples turgid with
need. Bending his knees Lonnie let the Daddy-Stud that had lifted him up on
top of the bar pull his silk shorts down until his pubes were showing over
the waistband.

Moving around the bar, Lonnie crouched to let different deserving Daddy
types feel and pull at his small patch of soft and curly blonde pubes. One
excited Daddy pulled out a tuft and started playing "He Loves me, He Loves
Me Not", putting the discard hairs in his mouth, chewing them thoughtfully.

Bit by bit, finger pulls and his hot body movements caused his silken
shorts to be pulled down his smooth, sweaty flanks. Long past the time most
guys erections would have flipped up and slapped their bellies, Lonnie's
thick shaft was still held down between his flexing thighs by the elastic
band of his shorts. The guys around the bar were getting more and more
raucous as the brains in the heads of their dicks took over. Cute little
bottoms like Lonnie just didn't have that much meat! Lonnie, almost in a
trance state, sweat pouring down his body, out of his armpits and crotch,
filled the air with male pheromones and danced ever more luridly. Hip
thrusting, throwing his arms about, snapping his body and his fingers as he
stood spraddle legged, sweat flying every which direction.

Lonnie moved directly towards his own particular Daddy-Stud, eyes locked
and lust jetting from every pore in his skin. Shimmying down until his
knees were within inches of the bartop, Lonnie teased the magnificent,
powerful male who reached up and took the boys tits between his powerful
fingers and thumbs and twisted them. Lonnie's head fell back. As he arched
backwards, his stud ripped down his panties. His engorged cock swung
ponderously upwards making a thick, meaty sound as it slapped against the
rigid corrugations of his quivering abdominals.

A deep moan pulsed over the noise of the room as Lonnie gracefully stood
and danced for his man. Gleaming spider-silk streamers from his cockslit
spun out over the crowd as the lust-filled boy jerked and twisted and
danced to the hot, raunchy beat pounding through his head. The other
Daddy's knew they had lost, but were happy to grab the nearest boy and
share the primitive lust filling the room as they watched the intoxicated
sailor boy entice his lover to be.

Lonnie was no longer cynical or confused. He was totally focused on the man
in front of him. On making the man know that he was, unquestionably,
available and ready. The stallion was all but curling his upper lip and
snorting the air. He signaled Lonnie to turn and Lonnie bent, swiveled and
shook his booty right in the man's face. Lonnie's bravado proved to be his
undoing. Two thick, callused fingers penetrated Lonnie's virgin
hole. Howling, his butt was straight-armed off the bar and carried, curled
toes barely touching the ground, to the nearest table. Impaled, screaming
with lust, pain, need, confusion. A half-dozen hearty whacks from a
callused palm were necessary to convince Lonnie to grab hold of the table
and to stay bent over. One of the bar boys spat a mouthful of fresh cum
over Lonnie's asshole and deepthroated the remains onto the stud-daddy's
massive cock. Lonnie howled when he saw the size of the thing emerging from
the bar boy's throat. It was at least as big as his and much more mature,
thick, veined and battered looking. Another loud slap to his ass reminded
him of his duty and he spread fur his man as the pug-faced stud moved
in-between his legs.

Screaming and penetration seemed to go hand-in-hand. Mastered, Lonnie
quickly adapted to the loss of his cherry and the massive intrusion into
his body. Ashamed, he knew, inside, that this is exactly what he'd always
wanted. A big, strong Daddy to take charge and give him the sexual and
emotional charge that he needed. Within minutes Lonnie submitted and was
doing everything he could to aid and abet the stud riding his back. Adapt
and survive, as the Marines said. And Lonnie adapted so well that his
Daddy-stud was the one in danger. Grinning, the powerfully built man pushed
his leather pants the rest of the way down and then laid down on Lonnie's
back, settling in for the duration. They held their audience in rapt
attention for over twenty minutes with as fine a display of assfucking as
had ever been seen on the San Diego waterfront. Lonnie finally blew his nut
all over the table and floor.

One of the bar boys handed Lonnie a bundle of his clothes as the Daddy-stud
carried him, naked and over his massive shoulder, out to the parking lot.
Lonnie showed up at the barracks the following Monday morning looking
somewhat used and abused, but with a silly grin on his face. Some of his
Corpsmen buddies took him to the shower to get rid of the raunchy smell.
When he told them what had happened they checked him out to make sure he
hadn't been damaged. When they expressed concern over his reddened and
puffy asshole, he made all three of them fuck him to prove that he was OK,
"and doing just fine, thank you very much." The smile on his face had more
to do with meeting his new Daddy after work than anything his buddies were
doing, but he sure appreciated the effort they were making, and had every
intention of returning the favor.

Moral: Naughty boys become Daddy's toys.