Date: Wed, 8 Aug 2007 05:31:25 -0400
From: JesseFonda@bellsouth.net
Subject: Breaking the Stallion


This is a story of sex between adult sailors of the US Navy. Don't ask.
Don't tell.  You know the rules about age limits or being illegal to read
this kind of stuff so if you're not supposed to, or think you would be
offended don't read it.


			   BREAKING THE STALLION

			      By- Jesse Fonda

    After 3 years in the Navy I was transferred from Shore Duty in Hawaii
to a ship that I was to meet in the Philippines. I had made Electronics
Technician third class (ET/3) and it was time for a tour at sea.

    The ship was out on station when I got to the Philippines so I had to
wait for about six days until I was called into the Personal Office and
told that someone would pick me up at 1400 hours. We drove through the
jungle for about an hour and a half to a remote dock where the ship was
tied up.

    The ship was named after a dormant volcano. It is still a commissioned
ship of the line so I won't give the name but I'll tell you that ships
named after volcanoes carry ammunition, bombs and rockets to restock
aircraft carriers, destroyers, guided missile cruisers and any other ship
that fires shells, drops bombs, or launches missiles of any kind.

    In other words, I was, along with about two hundred and fifty other
sailors, living in one huge bomb.

    Any place we went we were docked or anchored as far from human
habitation as possible. Just in case. On most ships it is preferable to
smoke outside; on this ship you rarely smoked outside unless underway and
everything was battened down.

    I reported aboard for duty. The Officer of the Watch passed me off to a
1st class ET named Dotson. Dotson quickly let me know that he was a short
timer and would be leaving the ship before she sailed again. He was getting
out of the Navy. "Six years is enough," He stated firmly.

    Dotson took me through the Mess Deck, down a ladder to the Navigation
Compartment where I would live for the next year and assigned me a bunk
where I dropped my sea bag.

    We went through the rest of the check-in routine, Ship's Office,
Disbursement Office, Medical Office, Post Office, Departmental Office and
so forth, Leaving, picking up or filling out paperwork at each stop. Dotson
left me at the end of the chow line and took off.

    I ate and began to settle in.

    The evening of the third day, as the movie ended on the Mess Deck,
Dotson (by this time I had learned his first name was Harrison, (Harry to
my friends, you can call me Dotson) poked me in the arm, jerked his head to
the left and said, "Come on".

    I followed him up several ladders and down passages, past the
Communications Room (COMM room), through the Information Command Center
(ICC), to our Electronic Technician's space. He spun the wheel to lock the
compartment door, turned to me and said, "The rumor is that you're with
Internal Navy Investigations and looking to bust pot heads. Since I'm out
in three weeks I don't give a shit" and held out a joint.

    I thought, "Yes! There is a God". Took the joint, lit it, and took a
long drag, filled my lungs and passed it back. After we had each had two
tokes I said, "I'm not".

    "Not what?" he asked.

    INI." I answered.

    "I figured that out when you lit the joint," he said sarcastically.

    We sat and talked while we passed the joint back and forth, established
where we were from, where we had been stationed and the usual bullshit
service guys talk about. The joint was gone and I was trying to think of an
excuse to leave when Dotson said, "Smoking shit makes me horny. Wanna do
another one?"

    "Sure," I said, "why not?"

    What he had said finally made it through my brain which slowly formed
the thought which came out of my mouth, "Me too, Smoking shit makes me
horny too," I offered.

    His eyes narrowed as he looked at me through the smoke floating between
us. He set the joint on the edge of the butt can, stood and stepped toward
me and leaned against the workbench I was sitting on forcing me to spread
my legs.  Dotson put his hands on my thighs, leaned forward and whispered
in my ear in a husky voice, "How horny?"

    I wasn't at all sure what I should answer.

    "Very," wandered out of my brain and popped out of my mouth.

    His hand slid up my thigh to my rapidly hardening dick and he squeezed
it gently several times then moved a hand to each cheek of my butt and
pulled me forward, slid me off the workbench and crushed me tight against
his crotch so that I could feel his hard dick as he ground it against mine.

    "You like that?" He asked.

    He seems quite sizable my fuzzy brain thought and then prompted me, say
yes stupid and "Yes" came out of my mouth.

    He turned me around and pressed me against the workbench with his
stiffened cock pressing into the crack of my ass through my
Seafarers. (These are commercially made Navy dungarees, more fitted with a
zipper instead of buttons and more flair to the bell-bottoms. They really
show off your ass and crotch) He asked next to my ear, "You want it?"

    Again I listened to my brain, which normally would have never let me
get into this situation, telling me, beg for it, if that's the only way to
get your ass fucked because that's what you really want, fool and "Yes",
slid out again.

    He moved away and sat back down in the chair. I turned and accepted the
joint he was holding out, took a deep hit and passed it back to him. I
knelt on the deck in front of him and began to undo his belt, snap and
zipper, releasing his fat cock from its confinement. He raised his ass and
I slid his dungarees and skivvies down to his ankles and buried my face in
his crotch, breathing in his manly scent.

    I had known I was gay for a long time. I had a boyfriend since I was in
tenth grade who was 4 years older than I. He was really pissed when I got
my draft notice and I explained to him I had decided to enlist in the Navy
for 4 years instead of going into the Army for 2. I just couldn't see
myself sleeping in a muddy foxhole.

    We had a big fight and broke up.

    I was determined to be the perfect sailor. I was always careful to do
absolutely nothing to give away the fact that I was Gay. I never figured
out how Dotson guessed.

    My name is Jensen (Peter, Petey to my family, Pete to my friends). I am
descended from Finnish/Russian immigrants, white blond hair, ice blue eyes,
a light complexion but I tan easily, with rosy cheeks, full lips and
delicate features.  A few people have told me that I am pretty for a
boy. What a load of shit. Five foot, nine inches tall with a pretty decent
build. I was on the swim team in High School and put on more weight and
muscle by working out in the Gym on the base in Hawaii.

    Dotson was HOT!  He was a good-looking guy, medium brown hair, and
hazel eyes, about three inches taller than I, with a nice, solidly muscled
body. You can't hide that when you're on a ship and use the same head. The
fat eight-inch dick that was a tongue's length away didn't hurt the first
impression.

    The tip of his dick soon found it's way between my lips and into my
hungering mouth. It had been three long years and I needed this badly. I
slowly worked his thick meat into my throat. I almost gagged at first but
backed off and tried again.

    My nose was finally nestled in his pubic hair and I began to get to
work sucking his long fat dick. Damn! This was better than eating Prime
Rib. A nice juicy tube steak, I gorged on it. I was going for the cream but
remembered I wanted to get stuffed so I eased off, looked up into those
beautiful greenish/brown eyes and asked him to "Fuck me".

    He grinned at me and said, "That was the idea pussy-boy". I stood and
began to undress. He took off his shoes, socks and kicked his feet loose
from his clothes.  Then he opened a drawer and took out a small tub of
grease. Yea! Real grease.

    I leaned over the workbench as he worked his slimy fingers up my ass,
first one, then two, finally three. He twisted and pressed them into me
stroking my prostate as he did. Opening his fingers inside me, twisting
them some more to open the way for his hard fat meat.

    He was big but it wasn't as if I hadn't been fucked before.

    I pushed out as if to take a dump when I felt his dick-head at my hole
and he pressed eight thick inches up into me. I moaned with a lot pleasure
mixed with a little pain as I felt his thick tool slide up, deep into my
ass.

    He let me rest for a minute and then asked if I was ready. I just
nodded my head and he began to pound the crap out of me. Starting slow he
increased the length and speed of his thrust until I was almost crazy for
it.  I pushed back with every push into me trying to get him in deeper. He
grabbed my cock and began to jack me. I tried to slow him down but before I
could, I began pumping gooey white cream from my balls up my seven and a
half inch tube, out through the miniature lips of my slit and over the
workbench. It didn't take long before I felt him start to swell inside
me. He growled, "Take it Bitch". He shoved it deep and began to fill my
sticky ass with his thick hot streams of cum.

    Dotson collapsed on my back. As we regained normal breathing his cock
had softened in me. He pulled it out with a soft plop. "Jesus! Dude, you're
good. I'm gonna tell my buddy about you, He'd like some of that", He
casually told me as we dressed. As he turned the wheel to open the door he
said, "You can call me Harry if you want". I had made my first friend on
board ship???

    Harry left for good nine days later. He had fucked me five times, twice
in the ET space and three times in the Sail Locker. It got easier each
time. There was no kissing and not much foreplay. We'd light a joint. About
half way through I'd haul his big dick out and start playing with it. He'd
get hard, wave it at me and ask if I wanted it. When I nodded yes we'd
strip. By the end of the first joint I'd be sucking him then he would just
grease me up and fuck me. If we got through the first one and started a
second joint he'd just pull his wet dick out of my mouth and shove it up my
ass and fuck me. After two joints I didn't care. It could have been dry. I
would have let him fuck me anyway.

    It may seem strange but modern ships still have Sail Lockers. Canvas is
used to fill in space between the handrails on ladders and to make the
'Irish lace' around the Quarter Deck. It's used other places that need
dressing up for visitors and also for covers for all kinds of things like
gun mounts and cranes. Fitted, sown and painted Haze Grey.

     The Sail Locker was located forward of the Deck Force space where they
store buckets, swabs, brass polish, paint, solvents and other supplies for
keeping the ship in tip-top ship-shape condition.

    Harry wouldn't tell me who his buddy was. He assured me he would talk
to him before he left but gave me no hint of who he might be. In the mean
time I had spotted several guys I hoped it was.

    One was a cute redheaded Signalman named Stansbury, who slept two cubes
down. (There were twelve guys to a cube, four cubes in our living space).
Another was a tall, medium brown skinned Corpsman named Escobar. Yet
another was a well put together blond Radioman named Cochron and a handsome
coffee colored guy named Harris. The more I looked the more possibilities
there were. Then I noticed 'The Snipe'.

    Snipe is a term for all Engineering Division guys. They take care of
the Engines, plumbing, electrical wiring and mechanical equipment. They
wear red stripes.  Mine were white. Normally the two don't mix.

    The first time I spotted him he was carrying his tray of food from the
serving line onto the Mess Deck. He looked around and sat down with his
buddies on the other side of the space. He was too far away for me to read
the name stenciled on his shirt.

    The second time was when I stepped through the door to the main deck.
He was heading inside, walking towards me with no shirt on, his cover (hat)
tilted back. I held the door open and he nodded thanks as he passed.

    He was at least 6 foot 3 inches tall and built like a brick shit
house. Brown wavy hair, (not very long of course) big brown eyes with long
black lashes that any girl would envy, and he had a great tan. I still
didn't know his name.

    The morning after Harry Dotson left we went to sea.

    That evening, after dinner, I went to do the three Ss. I saw the head
was taped off.

    The sign read.

        CLOSED
          WET
          PAINT

    I asked one of the guys where a head was that we could use and he
pointed down a passage and said, "Engineering Division". I headed that way
with my towel wrapped around my waist and my shaving kit. Found the head,
sat down to take a shit and 'The Snipe' came in.

    He went to a sink opposite me, brushed his teeth, and then shaved. I
was done and wiping when he took the towel from around his waist and turned
toward the showers. He was hung like a horse with balls to match.

    I was starting to hope it wasn't him.

    It was almost as if he had done it on purpose to give me a good look
but I wasn't sure because the move seemed so natural and he never even
glanced my way.

    I brushed my teeth and shaved then headed to a shower stall. By the
time I was finished he was gone.

    That evening after the movie I went out on the main deck and leaned on
the rail watching the phosphorescent water racing by and lit a cigarette. I
sensed someone come up behind me in the dark and heard a smooth deep voice
ask if I had a light. I turned my head. It was 'The Snipe'. I handed him a
pack of matches, he lit up and handed them back. He leaned on the rail next
to me and after about a minute asked, "Thinking about Harry?"

    "No, not really," I answered, "but I was wondering who his friend is."

    He put out his hand and drawled, "O'Neill, Jack O'Neill, from Texas"

    I shook his hand and introduced myself, "Peter Jensen, Pete", I said,
"from Virginia".

    "You interested in going for a ride Cowboy?" He asked. We weren't
talking about a pony ride here folks; we're talking riding a full-grown
Stallion.

    I told him, "I'm not sure I'm big enough to ride a horse that size but
I'm willing to give it a try".

    At least he had given me a chance to check the equipment before I
committed to mounting it.

    "You're on Partner," he said, "Harry told me you're an excellent rider
but nobody's gonna make you ride something too big for you. Do you know a
place to go?" He asked.

    After checking around to see if anyone was watching I led the way
forward to the Sail Locker. It's in the bow of the ship just above the
Chain Locker.  (Where the anchor chain drops when you winch the anchor up)
The area is completely sealed off from the main part of the ship.  In case
of a collision or a fire from the paint and chemicals stored in the Paint
locker adjacent to it, there is no way either water or fire can get into
the ship itself. The only entrance is through a hatch set into the deck,
hidden from view by a big crane.

    He helped me un-dog the hatch. I went down the ladder first, felt my
way, helped by the dim moonlight filtering down from the open hatch, back
to the next compartment and flipped the light on. He climbed down then,
lowering the hatch as he did and securing it from below. He sauntered into
the Sail Locker space and we secured that door.

    He surprised me by putting his hand on my shoulder, turning me firmly
to face him, taking me in his arms and kissing me. Our tongues introduced
themselves and started a game of tag. He gently bit my lower lip as he
started to unbutton my shirt. His lips nuzzled my neck as I unbuttoned his.

    As he undressed me and I stripped his clothes off our mouths
continually wandered back searching for each other's lips so our tongues
could play together some more.  It was slow, easy and we made it fun. He
seemed very gentle and was in no hurry.

    All trepidations I had about taking on this particular horse hung,
Texas stud began to melt away.

    I knelt in front of him and spent a lot of time licking and lapping at
his huge cock and low hanging balls. I tried to take his dick in my mouth
but couldn't get much past the head. He was just too big. It was thicker
than my forearm. I managed to get one nut at a time in my mouth and rolled
them around on my tongue. We enjoyed that immensely and we were both soon
moaning with pleasure.

    I licked his nipples until they were hard little knobs, took them
between my teeth and bit them gently, First one then the other moving back
and forth as long as he let me. When he couldn't stand any more he tasted
and then nibbled on mine. I pressed his face to each one in turn as he
munched until I was going bananas.

    I have about six blond hairs around each nipple and four in the center
of my chest. Jack O'Neill's broad chest was covered with soft dark fur, a
treasure trail led down to a lush bush surrounding that stupendous
Zucchini. His balls were the size of plums dangling in a fuzz-covered sack
that swung gently with the rocking of the ship. I walked around him
admiring his naked body. I devoured him with my eyes. He was magnificent. A
patch of hair in the small of his back spread down over his cheeks, was
very thick in the crack of his ass and continued down to cover his legs to
the tops of his feet.

    I had him lie on the pile of canvas. My tongue tasted every hair.

    Every scent and flavor on his warm skin made my cock ache and throb.

    He was my dream guy, tall, dark and handsome. I knew this was going to
be the night of nights when he took my wrist, stood and gently pulled me
around in front of him and told me, "It's my turn to soak in your beautiful
body."  He pushed me back on our canvas bed. I thought he was laying it on
kind of thick.  He was the one that was the hunk, not me.

    Jack O'Neill went over every square inch of my trembling body with his
eyes, hands and mouth. Every finger and toe, dick and balls, the inside and
outside of elbows and knees, my chest and back, my belly and cheeks, my
palms and the bottoms of my feet, arms and legs were kissed, licked or
sucked. Some places got all three. I never knew where he would go next.

    He forced his tongue into my most intimate recesses, ears, navel,
pitts, piss slit, between my fingers and toes, the crack of my ass. There
wasn't a dry spot on my body.  His tongue searched into my puckered opening
as if he had every right in the world while his large callused hands held
my butt cheeks spread apart.

    I wondered if this pile of canvas had ever been used this well before.

    I was totally at his mercy. I wanted my ass to be filled with him more
than I ever wanted any thing in my life and he was ready and willing and
able to fill me with cock.

    He dug a tube of KY from the pocket of his dungarees and began to
prepare the way. He pressed me back on the canvas pile and I lifted my legs
and held them back as he worked the lube into my willing ass, stretching me
open slowly but firmly. Starting with two fingers then three. I was
squirming and pressing down on four of his fingers as he continued to
massage my prostate.

    I was still a little scared but finally ready to try. I got up, kissed
him and gently pushed him down onto the canvas again, positioned myself
over his huge fuck pole and began to stretch my ass even more as I started
to impale myself on his huge thick tube.

    He constantly encouraged me in soft whispers. He told me, "You have the
most stunning blue eyes, the softest, smoothest skin, a beautiful suckable
dick" as he caressed me with his hands and eyes. "Pete your lips are as
full and sweet as cherries warmed by the sun". He groaned as I leaned
forward and kissed him tenderly. "You have the tightest hottest ass" and "I
don't care how long it takes".

    Several times Jack told me, "Pete, you don't have to do this". Each
time he said that I became more determined to go through with it just to
prove to him I wanted to, I could and I would ride him. He softly
whispered, "Pete, I want to fuck you more than anything in the world".

    I wanted to be fucked by Jack more than anything in the world.

    How could I back out? He was a gorgeous, sweet, and gentle man and he
had me hot enough to blow up the ship just by standing there.

    It seemed to take forever to slowly absorb the stallion sized penis
into me, working it in oh so slowly until I had completely surrounded his
cock with my wet slippery ass. My brown eyed pucker griping tightly the
base of his enormous cock.

    We stayed very still as I became comfortable with his size, then I
began to slowly move up and down on his smooth stalk until about seven or
eight inches were sliding out and then back into me. I stopped and leaned
forward to kiss him yet again and told him I was ready. "You can fuck me
all you want, anyway you want, but please fuck me Jack O'Neill," I
whispered in his ear.

    Jack put his arms around me and we rolled over so that I was now on my
back and he slowly and gently began to fuck me. I wrapped my legs around
his waist and my hands were caressing his wide chest stopping to once more
tweak his nipples. He was gently moaning his pleasure. I was chanting,
"Fuck me Baby" over and over as he took long slow strokes pulling out until
the head was caught just behind my sphincter muscle and then sliding the
full length, deeply into me.

    I never thought it could be like this. I had never been filled so
completely, wanted to be filled so completely, fucked so deeply or so
well. I wanted this ride to last forever.

    I was pressing up on every down stroke trying to get more cock in me,
trying to get it in more deeply. "Oh Baby! Yes! Jack O'Neill, Fuck me!
Please, cowboy, fuck me!

    We quickened the pace, he took short jabbing strokes deep inside me,
then he would grind his meat into me. Torturing me, with indescribable
feelings racing up and down my body, I begged him for more. I arched my
back to rub my nipples against his studly hairy chest.

    He would pull out slowly and then slam it into me again and again. He
lowered himself on top of me pressing me down with his weight. He was
massaging my prostate with every move. We were bathed in sweat in the damp
tropical night air. I thought I would cum at any second. It was
incredible. It was delicious. It was Heaven. I wanted it always.

    He was truly a Master. I was his more than willing slave. He was firmly
in control of my self, my body, and my soul. I felt my heart melting into
his, becoming one with him. I would give myself to him permanently and
always.

    I never could leave him. I never wanted him to leave me.

    He fucked me longer and road me harder than I had ever been fucked or
ridden before. He would slow down, we'd passionately kiss, we'd fuck
tenderly and slowly for a while then he would begin to ram it into me
again, he would go in at slightly different angles. I would beg him, "Keep
screwing me" and he would answer, "Yes Baby forever. You are the best fuck
I've ever had".

    After a long time I felt him swell to stretch me even more, he pressed
his cock deeply into me and said, "I can't hold back anymore Baby. Take it
sweet thing."  And began to shoot thick streams of cum far up inside my
stretched and straining chute. When I felt the third shot I went off too,
covering our stomachs and my cock with my own creamy coating of cum,
matting our damp pubic hair.

     In the past I had found all sex to be good but this was light years
beyond good.

    I didn't want him to pull out. I was thrumming like a plucked violin
string. I wanted to keep this man's beautiful, well made instrument inside
my body forever but it was inevitable. He slipped out and rolled onto his
back next to me.

    After our breathing returned to normal we held each other tightly and
we whispered sweet nothings. We slowly and gently caressed each other's
bodies as I tried to explain to him what I was feeling and finally said, "I
don't ever want to be fucked again, except by you. I've had the best now,
Jack O'Neill, no one else will ever do."

    He held me in his strong arms and kissed me deeply again and again and
told me, "I feel the same thing for you Pete. I don't want to stud for
anyone else. Harry told me you were special. He gave me your name and told
me about you just before he left the ship so I'm sure I'm the only one who
knows.

    Usually with a new guy I'd break him in and let a few other guys know
he's available and soon about forty guys would be lined up to fuck him but
I'm not sharing you.

    You're my secret. I'm keeping this little filly in my own private
corral". He chuckled as he squeezed my butt cheeks and kissed me yet
again. "If anyone bothers you just let me know."

    I'm sure Jack was bothered a few times by guys that he cut off from
having sex with him but he was a big boy and handled it.

    Jack and I spent a lot of time together over the next nine months, on
board ship, in Hong Kong, in Japan, in Hawaii, in dry dock in California.
I'm sure more than a few people figured out that Pete Jensen belonged to
Jack O'Neill. Every chance we got we fucked. We almost got caught twice but
no one ever bothered me.

    Jack was Honorably discharged from the Navy three months before I was
and waited in San Francisco for me. It's been almost twenty years and Pete
Jensen is still the only filly in Jack O'Neill's own private corral and I
still ride the Stallion often and hard. In fact Pete Jensen considers
himself an Olympic Gold Medal contender in the equestrian division.

    After all, folks, Practice makes perfect and I practice every time the
Stallion is ready.

    Love to y'all Peter Jensen.

				  THE END

This story is dedicated to the memories of Justin Case, Eric Draven and
Axl.  Wherever you are guys, you are still remembered, missed and loved.


Direct comments to jf2411@bellsouth.net