Date: Sat, 08 Oct 2005 02:05:14 +0000
From: Bill Drake <billdrake@hotmail.com>
Subject: Naval Tradition 4

Naval Tradition
Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. It is gay erotic fiction
explicitly depicting sexual acts between male relatives. If that offends or
disturbs you, read no further. If not, sit back, unzip, pull it out, and
enjoy.

Comments to billdrake@hotmail.com. More of my stories available at the
Authors page of Nifty archive, or at a Yahoo Group:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/drakestories/


Naval Tradition


Jim's Story
Part 4

Coming of Age
Atlanta, Spring 2001


My life changed forever spring of my junior year. Our school was playing in
the Southeast Regionals in Atlanta. It was day 3 and our team was still in
the running. We'd never made it that far, so after our Saturday afternoon
win, most of the guys on the team were jazzed up and ready to
party. Already word was spreading around that Todd Burnham had some liquor
in his room and that party was to start at 8.

At 7:45, I was just getting out of the shower when I saw that the guys I
was rooming with, Michael and Jason, were already dressed in jeans and
T-shirts and were getting ready to head out the door.

"Sure you're not coming, McGrath?"

"Nah, fellas. Gonna hit the gym, maybe I'll join you guys later."

Jason laughed, his cute dimples deepening. "Jesus, Jim, dontcha ever give
it a rest. Let loose a little."

"Let him be, man."  Michael came to my defense. "You know how he is about
his gym routine. And fuck, it's his arm that got us here." Then, turning to
me, "just join us later on, bud. Room 417."

I felt bad being so standoffish with my friends.  But I knew I had to stay
disciplined if I wanted to get a scholarship for college. And the whole
weekend I'd been a little withdrawn. I kept thinking about my best friend
and now blowjob buddy Paul. I shouldn't have had any right to complain. I
was getting my nuts drained anytime I wanted. All I had to do was lower my
sweatpants and my gridiron-built friend would hunker down and wrap his
expert lips around my tool. No questions asked or words needed.


I loved every second of the sex, only I started to feel guilty. I knew I
should be reciprocating, knew that I wanted to touch and worship every inch
of Paul Jackson, knew that I had feelings for him I couldn't communicate to
him because I was so goddamned scared. So I let him be the queer and think
I was a cool straight guy who just liked getting his rocks off.

I figured this trip away from Norfolk would allow me to clear my head,
think about other things. Boy, was I wrong. I never played better baseball,
but the minute the game was over, I kept thinking about Paul, about my
teammates, about men in general. By day 2, lust was coursing through my
veins. Finding the hotel gym was the only thing that helped me relieve the
tension.

So that's how I was spending my Saturday night, in the gym hotel, resting
between bench press sets by standing in front of the full wall mirror,
gauging my progress. As no one was in there, I'd taken off my shirt and was
standing dressed just in my gym shorts. I was proud of my muscle and of my
definition. Firm, wide shoulders knotted up as I did each bicep curl.
Pulling the dumbbell up with intense slowness, I gritted my teeth and
watched the veins bulge on my arms throb. I put them down and heard a the
door open.

"Oh, hey. Looks like I'm not the only one getting a workout in on a
Saturday night."

The man entering was obviously a businessman staying at the hotel, probably
in his late 30s, medium-height and built with a compact frame clearly kept
up by gym visits squeezed in between business meetings. I don't know how I
knew - I wasn't the brightest kid at 17 - but I just sensed he was
important in a way businessmen in Norfolk/Va. Beach just weren't. It wasn't
the way he was dressed. He'd come in workout attire of shorts and a
long-sleeve white T-shirt emblazoned with a corporate race logo. As I sat
down and pumped out another set of arm curls I examined the taut muscle
rippling beneath the cotton knit material. I could even see the small erect
nubs protruding at the tips of his pectorals.

I looked up and took in the well-groomed, handsome face, his straw brown
hair cut in a typical Finance District medium-short style, and silver blue
eyes that twinkled at me despite the serious demeanor of his expression.

His gaze locked on mine, and all of a sudden I felt self-conscious about
being shirtless.

"Yeah, I thought I'd be the only one here myself," I said.  "Sorry for the
informal dress code."

"No problem, don't mind me." We continued with our workout in silence. I
really pushed myself, in part to get my mind off everything, and in part to
not look so pathetic in front of the man sharing the gym with me. He
certainly had his routine down with focus and it clearly gave him good
results.

After I was done I decided to take advantage of the sauna, which I'd had
the foresight to turn on before my workout. I took a quick dip in the small
shower they had, then hopped into the blasting heat with just my towel
wrapped around my waist.

After a tough workout, the heat felt nice and relaxing and soon I
half-drifted off, until the door opened again and a rush of cooler air
entered. It was the handsome businessman.

He sat down with the towel wrapped around his waist, only when he sat he
spread his legs the white terry cotton material just hung over the man's
meaty genitals, barely covering them. That gave me a good look at his
massive, powerful thighs. They looked like those Ironman contestants' legs,
lean and bulky at the same time. Only they weren't shaved, a coating of
dark hairs cascaded the length of his thighs, knees and calves. Below hung
a pair of extra-large feet, that I guessed had to be at least size 13.

When I looked back up, the man's gaze was on me, as his right hand absently
swiped at the beads of sweat forming on his round pecs.  His blue eyes and
white smile beamed. "You were pretty intense in your workout. You an
athlete?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sir? Been a while since I've been called that. You must be a Southern boy,
right?" His accent was Northern and polished, though I couldn't place it.

"Yes'r," I replied trying to minimize the "sir," which now felt awkward
since he seemed to be mocking me a little.

"That's cool," he breathed out, shutting his eyes as the room filled with a
new burst of white steam. We both breathed heavily as we adjusted.

After a minute, he continued. "What do you play? You're built but not quite
bulked up for football." His eyes openly appraised my body.

"No sir, varsity baseball. My team's here for regionals, in fact."

He took in a breath as the hiss of a new gush of steam filled the
room. "Where are your teammates now?" he continued.

"Partying," I laughed.

"And you're spending your Saturday here in the hotel gym working out." His
gaze was hard upon me know, as if he was trying to read my every
expression. Man, his body was magnificent, his abs crunched up into a
knotted series of ridges, his chest heaving and powerful, his bicep and
forearm muscles bunched up in post-workout tautness. And there was the
package between his legs, bunching up underneath the towel, which seemed to
be growing. My heart skipped a beat.

"So are you," I grunted in the heat.


"Yeah, guess we're alike, huh?"

I could feel the double entendre, burning my defenses in the heat of that
sauna, pushing me toward forbidden territory. "I guess we are."

His eyes took a minute to ask me, silently. I actually nodded. My pulse
race, maybe his did too.

"I bet you could use a nice shoulder massage right now."

I reached behind my head and felt the tenseness in my delts. His gaze
traced the hair growing in my armpits and up the ridge of bicep muscle. As
befits a baseball man, my arms were my best asset. "Yeah," I assented,
"sounds nice."

He smiled and spread his legs.  Those thick thighs welcomed me in as I sat
down on the bench below and leaned my sturdy back in between them. It felt
comfortable and right, especially when his powerful fingers started
kneading my shoulder muscle.


"Mmmm," I muttered.

"Feel good, huh?" he laughed. I nodded and relaxed into it. Then my hand
brushed against his foot. Accidentally, but the contact felt great, better
than the massage somehow. I started to pull away but pushed back forward,
rubbing the top of his large foot with my throwing hand. I explored,
remembering the joke the guys on the team had about big feet meaning big
cocks. I was a good size 12 myself, my brother John and my dad both a
whopping 14. The thoughts swelled up in me, thoughts I was able to
suppress. But my dick went perpendicular from my legs, and I turned my
head. Hard, hairy thigh muscle ran along my face and lips. I felt smothered
in the steam-slickness of this man's flesh. Then I bumped into something
else. Hot, heavy, hard cock. I stuck out my tongue and tasted it. It was
still spongy-firm and salty to the taste. I licked more, and the prick
responded by growing more and upward. I still didn't know how much man meat
this fellow had swinging between his legs, but I attacked it with gusto,
licking and sucking at every centimeter of cock I could.

My first dick.  Now I knew what Paul Jackson felt. Why he craved it. This
man, whose name I didn't even know, held some mysterious power over me. His
cock ordering me silently to worship. And yet, every inch of his hardon,
every bit of turgidness filling into the cylindrical, uncut shaft, was a
compliment.  Telling me I was desirable. Wanting me. There, in that wet,
deserted steam room, a circuit formed between us, experienced man and a
virgin cocksucker.


One thing I hadn't realized before then - how would I? - was how sensitive
one's tongue is. I could sense every ridge, bump and vein on his rigid
manstalk as my mouth explored from top to bottom. I discovered that even
the dick skin that looked smooth by sight had its own texture, tempered
only by the moisture of the steam room and the brininess that overwhelmed
my taste buds. From the response in his stalk I could tell he enjoyed my
exploration, but he wanted more. Reaching down, he opened my mouth with his
fingers and stuck the head in. Just the head, holding still as I licked
around the smooth knob. It was wet from the steam and the precum.

"Yeah, man, suck it," the man cooed. Effortlessly, the round head pushed
inward. It was an all a blur. The firm hand stroking the back of my neck,
right where my hair tapered off. The depth of his voice, urging me on. His
downy brown hairs and firm, six-pack belly pressed hard against my
forehead. The saliva I was producing in such copious amounts.

By now I was kneeling directly in front of my new friend, and I had about
four inches of his wonderfully hard cock stuffed into my mouth, as I sucked
and bobbed my head. Spit ran out of my mouth, down the engorged shaft and
over his ballsac. I held onto his spread legs, running my hands up and down
his sinewed quad muscle.

I could begin to sense a change in my suckee. My novice cocksucking
notwithstanding, his demeanor grew more urgent. His breath quickened. His
hands were rubbing the short bristles of my hair and occasionally would
push me down onto his erect dick. His inner thighs clamped against my lat
muscle.

Fuck, if Paul could see me now I thought. I was getting used sexually, just
like I'd used him, and it turned me on. Big jock at school, demi-god in my
hometown, there I was, my knees pressing into hard wet tile and my jaws
stretching, accommodating. Learning how to pleasure another man.

The thought jolted suddenly to my balls. This whole time it had been about
his dick, how I could get used to the size, and to suck it without gagging
or biting. Now, I felt the incredible urge to get off myself. Fortunately,
I had plenty experience in pulling my pud - quickly, urgently my right hand
descended to my prick and I jerked it furiously. I went at it harder than
I'd ever done alone in my bedroom, but then again I was turned on like
nothing else. This was intense.

The man I was sucking noticed. "Man, kid, you're hot to trot.  Go ahead,
get your nut. I'm almost there myself."

I don't think I realized what that meant - not fully - until all of a
sudden the cockhead that was tickling the back of my throat swelled in
pulses then hard fast shots of sperm jetted into my esophagus. The first
one almost made me cough, but I resisted the urge just in time for the
second to go flying straight down my throat. This time I
coughed. Thankfully, the man pushed my head back so that his cock withdrew
to the tip of my mouth. The rest of his load filled the front of my palette
and I began to enjoy this. So this was what a man's cum was like! Warm,
abrasive and thick. God, I was so worked up I shot right then. The juice
I'd saved up the whole trip.

When I finally backed up off of his cock, I felt proud, accomplished. My
first dick. Sex that was far more intense than with the few girls I'd
screwed. It was quick, raw and masculine. More than anything, I felt like
an adult now. And I was hooked.

My guy caught his breath and smiled at me.

"First time, stud? You did great." He stood up, his prick still tumescent,
and I followed his lead, gathering myself up onto my feet despite the rush
of blood to the head. Even now, his silver-blue eyes mesmerized
me. "Thanks, I needed that."

"Sure," I muttered, not knowing if I should split immediately or talk.

I was grateful when he patted my shoulder in a familiar gesture. "Come on,
big guy. Let's shower before it gets any later."

As we showered off, we introduced ourselves and talked. His name was Dan
and he lived in Chicago but came to Atlanta frequently on business. He had
a partner, another male, he lived with, but they had an agreement when
either one was travelling. The look of shock on my face must have been
pretty noticeable.

"You don't approve? Of what? That I have a gay lover or that we have an
open relationship?"

I blushed and stammered. "Oh, it's not that. I just never have met
anyone...  not who would say they're gay." Even the word gay seemed heavy
as I said, yet I felt like a fool, like some goddamned hick. "Norfolk's a
pretty small place, you know. And well... " I was going to add how this guy
was just so masculine, but I didn't.

"Don't worry. No offense taken. And I guess I can come on pretty
strong. But, fuck kid, when you get out of Norfolk, maybe before, your
going to make some men pretty happy. "

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You got it. Looks, body, big dick, the right attitude. You're the real
thing. And you're still pretty young. You're going to be beating them off
with a stick... That is," he added after a pause, trying to read my
reaction, "if you decide you're into men."

"I don't know. I mean, I'm not gay, but that was fun."

We toweled off and got dressed again. As we left he thanked me again for
the blowjob and told me if I wanted to fool around some more to come up to
his room, number 1504.

I returned back up to the fourth floor, and trotted down to room 417. The
party was in full swing, and I did my best to join in with my buddies, but
the clichˇ was true: I was alone in the crowd. I'd just undergone a major
experience, and I knew I wasn't the same person I was before.


**********

I was able to steal away once more that trip. I made up some lie to my
buddies, then snuck my way up to the 15th floor. My heart skipped a beat or
two as I approached the door. I turned back twice before getting the balls
to go knock.

Dan was talking on a mobile phone when he answered the door but winked and
waved me in. He was dressed in a dark blue pinstripe suit, and it appeared
he'd just returned from a meeting. God, he was handsome. The blue shirt and
striped tie set off his ruddy complexion and sandy brown hair even more.

I sat down as he continued his conversation.

"...It's the kid from the sauna... Come back for more, I suppose." He
pulled the phone aside. "Am I right?" he asked. He didn't even wait for an
answer, but undid his belt, then his zipper. He stepped up to me, as his
suit trousers opened up and fell down a little. My face was pressed into
the cloth of his boxer shorts, the thin cotton not restraining the
hardening manmeat very much.

As nervous as I was, once I was there in his crotch, my lust rose, and I
was eager to repeat my performance from the night before, only to do it
better. Desperately, I massaged his basket and fished in for his growing
prick.

"Yeah, he came to suck me off again... Geez, Pete, this kid is your type to
the T: Blonde, All-American jock, dimples, doe eyes, the whole
works. Fucking fishing my cock out now, stud."

His prick was erect, warm and beautiful. Smaller than mine, but with a nice
curve to it. I began licking the length, getting more and more turned on,
taking time to pull out his ballsac and lavish his gonads.

"... What?  Yeah, no, he's just licking right now. Perfect pink meaty
tongue going to town on my tool. So hot... I dunno, Pete, 6 foot,
6-one... Real muscular. Big for a kid his age. I'd guess 180 pounds. Total
jock bod - great guns, smooth, trim waist."

I looked up and saw a sneer tempered with lust. His clean-cut suit-and-tie
demeanor contrasted with the nastiness of his phone conversation. Of our
act. Part of it was humiliating, but his fiery hot prick poked into the
side of my face, sticky with the remnants of my saliva which were quickly
drying. I edged my face down a bit and he swiveled his hips back til the
oval-pointed head made contact with my quivering lips. I wanted it bad but
was too nervous to move. He made the move for me, pushing forward and
spearing straight into my gullet.

The first couple of thursts were shallow, allowing me to get used to the
girth and mass of his cock pounding inward. Slowly, he pushed more, and
soon I was taking more than the day before.

"...That's it, kid. Open up for daddy...  Shit, Pete, he's swallowing my
fat bad boy. Yesterday was his first cock, and he's already getting the
hang of it... You know how these green boys are...yeah? here ya go..."

Tears welled up in the sides of my eyes and I choked in air trying to
breath. So it took me a second to realize that Dan's hand held his phone
right next to my face, so that every slurp and cocksucking sound would be
picked up for the listener on the other end.  Something about it made my
cock swell in my jeans.

"Hot, huh?" Dan finally said into the phone. "Yeah, well, look I'm gonna
finish this ride. Talk to you later, hon. Love ya." A beep sounded, and the
phone landed on the bed next to me.

I barely had time to breathe in before Dan grabbed my shoulders and started
pounding in and out. Last time, I'd been in control, struggling to suck
dick the right way, bobbing up and down in his lap. This time, what I got
was an old-fashioned, balls-to-chin face fuck. The stud's hands were talons
in my shoulders, his hips a pivoting hinge whose sole purpose was to drive
cock in and out of my mouth.

I didn't enjoy it the same as before. The brutal force and my struggle to
open up pretty much killed my erection. But there was something so sexual,
so primal, that I relished. Sex was a whole world I had a lot to learn
about.

He sprinted toward the finish line, which was fine by me. I had to admit I
felt a little used as soon as he withdrew his spit and sperm-coated cock
out and stepped back.

He plopped down on the bed next to me.

"Thank, big guy. Sorry if I was a little rough on ya."

For some reason I was fighting back tears. "'s OK," I muttered.

"Shit!" he said as my tears began to flow. "I knew I shouldn't have done
that. Fuck, you're only a kid." He wrapped his strong arms around me and
pulled me to his torso. "Sorry, man. I thought you wanted it, too."

"I did..." I got out between sobs. I felt so ashamed. "Dan, I'm gay."

"Yeah, stud, so am I." He pulled back and looked me in the eye. "But you
know that already," he said and winked.

"I haven't told anyone before," I added, feeling a little better now that
I'd said it. "I don't think I realized it before this weekend."

"Oh, kid..." he exclaimed. He could read the hurt and anxiety in my
eyes. "I don't normally do this, but..."

Then he leaned forward and kissed me. My first man kiss, and it was
heaven. Full, powerful, masculine.

We made out like two lovesick newlyweds on that hotel bed for ten minutes
or so.

"Thanks," I said as we broke for air.

"You didn't get off earlier, did you, Jim?"

"No."

Dan knelt in front of me and slowly, passionately showed me how exquisite a
blowjob can be when it comes from an experienced man.


**********

I got back home to Norfolk at dusk that Sunday evening. My buddy Paul was
sitting on my front steps waiting for me. He'd been crying.

"Paul, man, what's wrong?" I asked tossing my bags to the porch and
ushering him inside. The minute I touched him on the back his crying grew
into downright sobs.

"Can... can we go to your room. I mean, your brother or dad."

I took a look around. The place was totally dark and empty. "Paul, man,
they're not here. Calm down and tell me what's wrong."

"Jim, I'm leaving."

"Leaving? Leaving what?"

"Leaving Norfolk.  Leaving you, leaving the team, leaving everything I care
for."

"Paul, I know things have been rough for you lately but..."

"It's not that dude, it's dad. He's been transferred." Paul's dad was Navy,
too, so the news wasn't a complete shock. When you grow up in a military
family, you get used to moving around a lot, at least for a while. Paul and
I had been lucky to be in Norfolk throughout middle and high school, til
now.

I felt my eyes water up. I understood and felt bad for the agony Paul was
going through.  But I felt it too, already knew I'd miss the hell out of
him when he left.

"Paul..." I started, clasping my arms around him.

"Yeah, and the thing that sucks is that I just found out Thursday while you
were away and already Mom wants me to go with her tonight to San Diego to
go stay with our aunt and look for a new place. I wanted to spend at least
another night with you, Jim, but it looks like I have forty-five minutes."

"God," I said, stroking his back. "I'm gonna miss you big time. "

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, dumbshit. What do I have to do..."

Already, I was kneeling. Paul didn't know what to make of my actions, til I
gripped the shorts he was wearing and maneuvered them down to his
ankles. Even then, he wasn't sure. Then, I leaned forward and mashed my
face in his flaccid cock, wetting up the rubbery, soft genitals with my
tongue.

"Jesus, Jim, you don't hafta do that. I know you're straight."

Naw, he still didn't get it. At least his cock was responding, rising to
the occasion. I'm glad Paul wasn't too big a boy in the dick department,
cause my novice cocksucking skills wouldn't have stood for more. I was
doing my best to open my jaw to fit the head and about three and a half
inches in my mouth. That seemed to be enough for Paul, who held still and
watched me bob my head on the top of his jockstalk.

"God, Jim! Suck me! I dreamed of this, but fuck if it isn't better in real
life.  That's right, a little more. I'm almost there, buddy. Gonna finish
me off?"

I couldn't tell if the last part was a question of a tentative statement,
but I knew the answer in any case. In an instant, I sucked in as much air
as I could through my nostrils and stuffed my mouth full of hard prick
ready to launch its sperm.

That's when I felt Paul's hands grip my head roughly to hold me tight as
his pissslit opened up and several thick volleys of jock juice. He tasted
different from my hotel man, it was nice and sweet. I liked it a lot.

I stood up and wiped the spittle from my face. "That's for what I didn't
have the guts to say to you, buddy."

I didn't know it was possible for a man to cry and smile at the same time,
but Paul sure did. I shut up his sobbing by inching my mouth toward his. We
made out for the thirty minutes he had before he had to go.

When we parted we both said we'd keep in touch like close brothers. And we
knew we would, but we also knew that something wonderful had been lost. I
went back to my room and cried all night.