Date: Sun, 29 May 2016 15:54:09 +0000 (UTC)
From: clover2209@yahoo.com
Subject: Air Force Weenie

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This is a work of fiction. All persons are intended to be age 18 and above.

AIR FORCE WEENIE

By anonymous.a


I recently moved to a new neighborhood and if I've not said it before
(which I have), let it be known I love being here.

This neighborhood is quiet. It's peaceful. Everybody knows everybody else –
well, obviously that's not true. But more people know each other here than
any other place I've lived.

But mostly I love it because it is blessed with an abundance of
good-looking fellas, almost all of whom are members of the Air Force.

Because our neighborhood consists of mixed residences, with townhouses and
stand-alone homes, we have a mixture of servicemen, everything from cute
little freckle-faced airmen fresh out of basic and three to a townhouse, to
young officers and their wives living in the houses. My next-door neighbor,
for instance, fits the latter category. He and his girlfriend – and I
know she's a "girlfriend" and not a "wife" because she told me while I
struggled to get her damn lawnmower started while he was deployed – are
fairly nice though a little suspicious of an older guy like me living next
door. "Older" is relative, as I'm in my late 30s opposed to their
mid-20s. Still, I don't think I'll be invited to any of their late-night
backyard bashes, the kind that result in multiple sleepovers into the next
day because everybody was too drunk to drive home the night before.

The guy's name is Kevin and he's a big ol' strapping Texas boy, with short
blonde hair atop a surprisingly feminine face. His features are delicate,
if that's a way to describe a narrow nose and wide, thin lips. You can see
his cheekbones nicely. The rest of his body is pure football player –
solid muscle on a well-proportioned frame. I'd say he's about 6-feet 1 and
180 pounds. In other words, he fills out a pair of Levis the way they were
meant to be filled.

Kevin enjoys woodworking and the garage serves as his shop. Often, to
escape the stifling heat, he'll relocate to the driveway, which is where I
see him. We usually wave and exchange hellos, and that's the way it's been
these past few weeks. Until the other day. ...

I had just pulled into my driveway after a long, miserable day at work,
when Kevin walked out of the garage and made eye contact with me. I got out
of the car and his gaze never faltered; this would be more than a simple
hello, I thought.

"Hey neighbor, sorry to bother you," he began, "but I'm trying to replace a
switch on our freezer and the lid won't stay up. Could you hold it up for
me while I get the damn thing replaced?"

Could I? Heck yeah I could. Anything to get closer to this dream of male
flesh. We shook hands and I introduced myself. He told me his name and
motioned for me to follow him into the garage, where the freezer was
located. It was one of those chest-style appliances and sure enough, he had
removed the arm that holds the lid upright when you open it, so he could
get at the light switch. Nobody likes rummaging around in a freezer without
a light.

As I held the lid up he got to work. Amid the occasional curse over a
dropped wrench or screwdriver, he told me his story. He was 24 and newly
promoted to first lieutenant in the Air Force, where he was an avionics
engineer. "Not a technician," he pointed out. "An engineer. Which will
serve me well when I transition into the private sector." He was from a
little town outside of Abilene, Texas, and joined the military to escape
that godforsaken cow town. So far he had been stationed at bases in
California and Japan, then here. He met his girlfriend in California and
after a year of TDY in Japan, he had returned to the States and she
followed him here.

"But I don't think we're going to stay together," he said, which caught me
off guard. People typically don't divulge that kind of information to
somebody they just met. I was intrigued (for obvious reasons) and prompted
him with a question: "Why not?" I tried to make it sound casual.

"Mmm. I hope you won't think I'm some kind of freak when I say this," he
said, grunting as he yanked on the switch assembly. A stubborn bolt held it
firmly in place. "But I just love sex. You know? Just plain ol' sex. I
don't think a body can have too much sex in this life – hell, it's one
of the few things about being an independent adult that gives you pleasure,
you know?" He got the assembly loose. "I mean, you work your ass off to
earn a living and pay your bills, you keep your place up, you try to give
back a little something to the community – I'm thinking of running for
Town Council – and after sleep, work, and everything else, your day is
almost totally consumed with keeping your head above water. But an hour's
worth of sex makes it all worthwhile."

I chuckled. "You got no argument from me," I said.

"Problem is, SHE doesn't like sex," he said, fishing the new switch
assembly from a small cardboard box. "At least not as much as I do. And
there's a lot she won't do."

My interest level spiked. If nothing else, I might get to hear this
gorgeous lug talk about some of the things he likes to do in the sack. I
asked him what those things were, and as he described them, my imagination
began to feed.

"For starters, she'll only do it in a couple of positions, most often
missionary," he complained. "She won't try anything new, and when I try to
get her to try something new she starts complaining about the size of my
dick. She says it makes her pussy feel like a warehouse."

Oh. My. God. I nearly dropped the lid. I couldn't see his crotch from this
vantage point, and thus guesstimate the size of that "warehouse"-sized
schlong, but I did sneak a peek at his ass. His shirt had ridden up above
his jeans, exposing a swath of his back, just above those meaty glutes. The
suggestive swirl of hair I saw there meant he had a hairy butt crack, just
the way I like 'em.

"She won't let me fuck her between the boobs. She's so afraid I'm going to
sperm her face."

I was simultaneously sympathetic and jealous – sympathetic on his
behalf, and jealous of the girlfriend. I would kill to have him sperm MY
face!

"She would never, not in a thousand years, lick my asshole." He wrinkled
his nose and in a fussy imitation of her minced, "Gross! It's dirty."

My cock had already grown into an iron poker. I was sure it was leaking joy
juice. I looked down to see if there was a wet spot on my slacks – not
yet, thank God. But I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to endure
this stimulation without something unexpected happening.

"Jesus. She won't even give me a blowjob. She has this thing about getting
cum in her mouth. She says she'd puke if that happened."

I wasn't thinking. My brain had gone on autopilot. I was so worked up that
rational thought no longer existed between the walls of my skull. I just
blurted, "She doesn't know what she's missing!"

Kevin stopped doing what he was doing and looked sideways at me, his
expression part surprise and part ... was that curiosity? Instantly I
recognized my slip-up and felt blood rushing to my cheeks. There was no
telling how these straight boys would react to discovering somebody close
to them was gay. Some were totally cool with it. Others reacted
violently. How would Kevin react? It didn't matter. I was busted. Totally
busted. There was no getting out of it.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to spring that on you," I began. "Yup. I like
guys. And I've got to say, your girlfriend needs to broaden her horizons."
I paused a moment, then continued, almost mischievously, "Or maybe you."

And I gave him a wink.

He smiled ruefully and said, "I'm about as straight as they get. I'm not
sure I could get it up for a guy. I'm not even sure I'd want to."

I gave him another devilish look. "You never know until you try."

He seemed to think it over for a long minute. And then, almost impulsively,
before he could change his mind, he slapped a hand against the garage-door
button on the wall next to the freezer, and as the metal door rattled down
the track, he began to unbutton his jeans.

"I am going to hate myself in the morning," he said in a low voice, "but I
have just GOT to get a blowjob. If I don't I'm gonna blow a gasket, sure as
the world."

I dropped to my knees in front of him. Beneath the jeans he was wearing a
pair of plaid boxers. Instead of taking them off he undid the fly and
fished out his dick, which had already grown half-hard.

Warehouse indeed. I've seen some gi-normous cocks in my day, but this one
would rank in the top 10. It was pale with a dark ring just south of the
mushroom cap, with almost no veins to speak of. I'm guessing the length was
8 inches, and the girth was impressive. I've never given much thought to
how wide a dick is, unless it's going up my ass. But this sucker was a
monster. I'd have to unhinge my jaw, like a snake, to fit it all in.

"If you hear a car pull into the driveway you better say something," he
muttered, flopping that now almost completely hard monster in my face. "She
gets off work in half an hour, but sometimes she comes home early."

Fuck that. No way was I going to be interrupted servicing this beauty. I
opened my mouth real wide and slid down on Kevin's cock.

He let out a moan as his dick entered my mouth and found the back of my
throat. I relaxed my throat muscles and took it all the way in, until my
nose was buried in the few pubes protruding from his boxer fly. I used my
throat muscles to massage his member and he groaned again, and said in a
husky whisper, "God, I've missed this." His hands found the back of my head
as he withdrew his cock and then rammed it back into my mouth.

His scent was dizzying, a manly smell interlaced with a bit of sweat and
piss. But the overall olfactory ingredient was musky sex, what the cock
gives off just prior to doing its business. So powerful was that odor I
could even taste it as I sucked on his dick and swallowed the spit that
gathered in my mouth.

Kevin began ramming his dick into my gullet and gave out little "Uh, uh,
uh"s as his hips bucked forward. My hands found his ass and squeezed. I
could feel the muscles flexing and unflexing as he pistoned his fuckstick
in and out of my mouth hole.

"I'm getting there," he whispered urgently. "What do you want me to do?"

I pulled off his cock for a hairsbreadth and hissed back, "Just fuck my
face, lieutenant."

He growled and crammed his cock back into my mouth and began a furious
pounding that left me dazed and, yes, I'll say it – confused. But it was
a beautiful confusion – the scalding heat of his crotch, that musky
buildup of sex scent, and the physical sensation of his fleshy tube making
its way down my throat.

His grunts began climbing the octaves and the muscles in his butt tensed
and then, BOOM, a gigantic explosion of cum filled my mouth. He gripped my
head like a vise and would not let me pull off as he continued to pump
delicious Air Force sperm into me. I managed to swallow some of it, but
some leaked out of the corners of my mouth and ran down to my chin. He kept
thrusting into me as the cum continued to spurt from that giant, twitching
penis of his.

Finally his urgency began to wane and I could feel his cock starting to
relax. I used this as an opportunity to swallow what cum remained in my
mouth, then clean up his dick, teasing a final dollop of joy juice from the
piss hole. I wiped up the cum leaking down my chin and slurped it up. His
sperm had a tangy, almost sweet taste.

He was in no hurry to put his dick away and continued to slather it with
suckings and tongue rubs and kisses. He took it out of my mouth and guided
it across my face, rubbing it against my cheeks and chin and
forehead. Finally, he let out a grateful sigh and pulled it back into his
boxers.

I got up off my knees. Now, I did have a wet spot on my slacks.

"That was fucking awesome," he said. "I can't tell you how much I enjoyed
that. I haven't had a blowjob in months, and you do a good job of sucking a
guy's dick."

I blushed at the compliment. "I've had a lot of practice."

He hit the garage door button and the door rattled back up the tracks,
letting in a gust of cooler air. I had no idea how much we'd heated up the
place with our exertions.

"If you don't mind I'm gonna need you to do that again in a few days," he
said, raising the lid to the freezer and resuming his work on the switch. I
told him I didn't mind at all, that in fact, if he wanted me to do some of
those other things his girlfriend wouldn't do, I could oblige.

He looked up at me, his eyes wide and a big smile creasing his face. "That
would be fucking awesome," he declared, his voice almost boyish. "I'm not
gay but like I said, I love sex. If she isn't interested then I'll just get
it somewhere else."

And at that moment a black Toyota Camry pulled into the driveway.

Kevin, now bent over the side of the freezer, looked up at me and
winked. "Nice to meet you, neighbor."

"Nice to meet you too," I smiled back.

Man, do I love this neighborhood.

---

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