Date: Wed, 18 Dec 2002 15:20:49 EST
From: JuilianJ@aol.com
Subject: the recruiter part 3

The Recruiter
By: Julien

This story is 100% fictional and is by no means depictive of the life of
any person, place or thing.  It contains sexual activities between males
and should only be read if it is legal to do so in your area.  Read at your
own risk and enjoy.  Comments are welcomed and would be very much
appreciated.  ENJOY!

	I hadn't been in this place in such a long time.  A matter of a
fact I wasn't legally allowed to step a foot in the bar but the owner, who
just happened to be my ninth grade teacher at one point in time looked
fondly upon me.  The look on my face must have told him that I wasn't in
the mood for chit chat so he just let me be sending drinks to my table in
the back.  For an hour and a half I watched as customers walked in and out,
men picking up women, women picking up men, men picking up men, women
picking up women and it made me bitter to know that I wasn't in on the mix.
All of my so called experiences could be counted on one hand and the ones
that happened to pass number five on the Dickter scale had to be with men
that claimed be going through an 'experimenting' phase.  So it was no
surprise that I had all but swore off anything serious.  Even Mr. True Blue
himself couldn't get me out of this dump.  And that's why it came as a
surprise when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around and saw him
standing behind me in -OH MY GOD! - In uniform.  Now this bar is by no
means a military hangout although an Army base is but two miles away but it
wasn't unusual to get a few MIU's (Men In Uniform) in here.  "Sailor!  Good
to see you!"  His voice held so much hope, whether real or imagined, for
me.  "Good evening SIR!" I announced standing up and saluting him.  This
got me a few stares and a laugh or two from a few of the patrons.  "Take it
easy Wallace, I'm officially off duty."  I relaxed my stance and motioned
for him to take the free seat.  He removed his hat and placed it on the
table.  "You want a drink?"  I asked hoping that my voice wouldn't announce
to him that I was nervous.  "No thanks.  I'm actually waiting for my wife."
And it was at that my heart took a deep dive down south.  "Oh." was the
only smart response I could come up with.  "So what are you doing in a bar
Wallace, under aged aren't you?"  Feeling his eyes burning into me I
lowered my line of sight to his chin.  "I'm not drinking sir."  "Quit
addressing me like that Wallace.  It's Marcel."  I knew that but it didn't
seem right to use his first name.  Damn the Navy for instilling me with
respect for the ranks.  "Sorry Sir.. Uh Marcel."  "That's better son.  So,
how are you liking sea duty?"  "It's good S...Marcel.  I enjoy it a lot but
the training is a lot of work."  He laughed and it was as if this was the
first time we had met.  "Well that's what serving is all about.  You have
to give it your all and it's a lot of work but the benefits are something
that will last you the rest of your life."  "I know and it's not like I'm
complaining, it's just the way is, know what I mean?"  "Yes.  Remember, I
was once in your shoes, a young sailor just learning the ropes.  Who knows,
you might decide that you want to recruit when your stint is over.  We're
always looking for a few good men."  And when he said that his eyes
twinkled and I felt my erection jump.  He looked over my shoulder and
waved.  When I turned around I saw a beautiful Hispanic woman walking
towards him.  She wore a short red dress that barely covered her thighs and
a look in her eyes that to me screamed, "I want to fuck."  Wasn't that why
people came into these places anyway?  She walked up to him and bent her
head to whisper something in his ear.  I had to look away as I didn't want
to see him smile that smile with her.  "Not now Jasmine." He said dodging
her efforts.  She stood back upright, attitude written all over her face
and began to tap her shoes.  "Well I got to be going Wallace but hopefully,
you'll stop by before your leave is up.  I could sure use your help in the
office."  Now maybe he was just being friendly but that one put the wind
back in my sails again.  "Ok."  I managed to get out as he saluted me and
walked behind his wife out the door.

	And that is where I found myself stationed for the three weeks of
my leave.  After that night I had gone home and was pleasantly surprised
that the bitch had packed and left.  My father was in a forgiving mood and
gave it to me straight, "I'm tempted right now to give your ass a good
whopping for that disrespectful attitude you showed but I won't." and then
his look softened and I pulled me into an embrace that was so familiar to
me, "I know she hurt you.  She hurt me too but we have to learn to
forgive."  And when I made a move to say something he rubbed my back gently
and said, "I know it's gonna be hard for you to do and I understand that,
just don't make me feel like the asshole, ok."  I had agreed and our
relationship continued as is.  I told my father about seeing Marcel that
night and sigh how I felt about him.  My father was not judgmental but I
knew that he didn't take my feelings or me all that seriously.  According
to him I was 'dick whipped' and to hear my father use such terminology
almost gave me a coronary, "Please Daddy don't try to be down, hip or
whatever you want to call it, I beg of you!"  He had just laughed and told
me he was 'with it'.  My only reaction was a silent yeah right!  But back
to the present: here I was helping Marcel with a few clerical duties pro
bono and I was enjoying myself and while the work wasn't anything to brag
about, the company was all I craved.  Every time he turned to retrieve a
box from off of the ground or to pick up a piece of loose leaf flying
around due to somebody leaving the window open (guilty!) I took it as an
opp to check out the goods.  And boy oh boy, the goods were banging.  The
Navy must have made his uniform especially for him with me in mind.  I had
to catch myself a few times from over doing it but I think I did I pretty
good job of keeping my feelings in check.  On my last day there he
surprised me by inviting me to hang out with him at a new jazz club that
had recently opened, 'CLUB HOLIDAY' (makes you think of CLUB MED right?).
I was never one to be into jazz but I jumped at the offer not giving my
mind the opportunity to analyze what I was doing to myself.  "I can take
you home to change Wallace, then we'll head on out."  "What about you?" I
asked hoping that we'd make a detour at his house and I would get the
chance to see where my knight actually lived.  "I have clothes in the back.
I'll just change before I take you home."  And at that thought my woody
made its' most brazen appearance.  I must have turned twelve different
shades of red as I tried my best to will it away.  But by looking at his
face I knew he had seen it.  Not knowing what to expect I kept quiet until
it was time to leave.  Not being my usual talkative self Marcel asked me
what was the matter.  "Nothing, I uh...I'm just so excited".  Strike two
for the batboy.  Just the word alone brought me back to another state of
emergency.  This time, instead of keeping quiet like he did earlier, Marcel
did something I thought that he would never do.  With one hand still on the
steering wheel, he leaned over and gently stroked my dick through the
fabric.  I couldn't move, I couldn't speak - it was as if paralysis had
taken me over and left me I me a dumb, crippled, mute.  The longer he
massaged, the harder I got, the harder I got, the more my dick expanded
wanting desperately to be freed from its' confines.  "Uh, ah...I."  What
the fuck was I trying to say?  "Shh, don't talk, just feel."  And that's
just what I did.  I closed my eyes and allowed him to assault my cock dick
like there was tomorrow and even though I never felt his actual hand
touching me, just the thought of what he was doing had me cumming in my
pants.
	"And then what?  What happened?"  I was trying to relate the story
to Shane (my bunkmate) while at the same time trying to keep my erection in
check.  "Nothing!  I fucking creamed my pants, that's what happened.  He
took me home and like the idiot that I am, I told him I wasn't feeling
well."  By the look on his face, I knew he was thinking the same thing.
"You spaz.  How the fuck are you gonna let him feel you up then tell him
your sick.  He probably thinks you didn't like it."  "Oh I liked it, he
knew I liked it too.  Grinning like one of them cats."  "Cheshire?"  "Yeah.
Damn!  I feel so stupid, what should I do?"  Shane rubbed his head and
shrugged his shoulders.  We were at my house playing a game of poker while
waiting for our pizza to arrive.  "I can't ever face him again man, I just
can't.  He probably thinks I'm a fag or something?"  Shane looked at me and
smiled, "Well he wouldn't be wrong..."  "You know what I mean."  "I don't
see the problem Stephen.  He made first contact, not you, HIM!  So he
probably is at least familiar with what it means to jerk another guy off."
"He didn't jerk me off?"  Yeah, whatever.  The point is, he stepped to you.
And wife or not, I think you should let him know what's going on."  And as
I let his words sink in, I thought to myself what I would look like with a
new face because I just knew he wasn't down with this and most importantly
he wasn't down with me.

Comments and suggestions are appreciated.  Where would you guys like to see
this story go next?  Let me know.  ENJOY!