A Marine Called Jason
(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2007-2015 by the Author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1
Waiting

I sat at the bar at Toby’s, waiting and praying that he would show up, afraid he wouldn't.  There was always that fear that gripped my guts when we were to meet up. Toby's Bar was typical of GI hangouts in Saigon; dark, smoky, not very fancy, with a few hookers, the whole package, except for one thing. Toby's also catered to gays.  Not openly, of course.  He didn't advertise it but word got around that it was safe for gay soldiers and Marines to go there.  It was enough of a mix of straights and women that the MPs never bothered the place.  Of course, Toby was strict as hell about flaunting it or being too obvious. Toby was a former Marine, big and muscular, one of the original advisors sent to Vietnam.  He liked it and stayed.  Nobody messed with him.

I watched every guy who came through the door, if only for a quick glimpse before he was shrouded in the darkness of the bar. Toby got me another beer without me asking for it.  I didn't know if he knew who I was waiting for but if he did he didn't say so.

"Did she stand you up?" he asked.

"Too early to tell," I said.  That was the way it was... a lot of times he knew better but you talked in heterosexual terms.  It was a code; one that even the straight guys respected if they found out about you.  It wouldn't have been that way in any other bar, but Toby was quick and quite capable of dealing with loud homophobia.  One time there were a couple of guys who looked like raw recruits who came in with the sole purpose of finding and beating up gays.  They didn't make any bones about it; they were there for fun.  They talked to each other loud enough that others could hear, as they looked around and tried to guess if this or that guy was gay. Toby put a stop to it right away.  Politely at first, till one of the stupid shits had the balls to ask him if he was gay, since they’d heard that he welcomed gays into his place. Toby played along with them. He nodded for them to follow him back to the rest room, with a real come on look.  They fell for it. Moments later, there was a lot of noise back there, then the back door was slamming shut. Toby came back to the bar without a scratch.  The other two guys came out, one embarrassedly nursing a bloody nose and the other one's eye already beginning to turn, and holding his stomach. Hell, anybody in his right mind would know better than to mess with Toby.

I didn't say who I was.  Brad Courter, 19, six feet even, 196 pounds, regulation jarhead, buzz-cut Marine.  My 196 pounds were good, solid muscle.  Most of us were; we had a workout room right in the barracks.  The guy I was waiting on was Jason Seaborne, also nineteen but his 195 pounds were spread over a five-ten frame that made him look heavier, more muscular.  He was Navy at the time, which I liked to kid him was a distant cousin to the Marines. More correctly, he was a Navy SEAL. Okay, you want all of it... he was a sniper. I thought of him as a brother Marine.

I started to get the sweats as the night wore on.  He should have been there an hour ago. My guts tightened at the thought that maybe something had happened to him.  As always, I tried to shrug it off.  It was something we both understood and lived with…him, obviously, more than me.  He was the Navy SEAL, doing covert ops.  I was just an interrogator at Intel...we dealt many times with the guys he brought in.  I tried more than once to imagine how I would handle it if he didn't come back from one of those missions.  I couldn't even think about it without getting sick to my stomach.

Finally, he was there.  I recognized his very masculine frame as he appeared in the doorway and his cocky, sexy walk confirmed it.  He had incredibly wide shoulders with balled muscles that looked like soccer balls and big arms sticking out of a muscle shirt and his pecs protruded in two solid slabs of steak-thick muscle.  He had a waist that made women jealous and his jeans shifted loosely around his waist, held up not by a belt but by his round, tight bubble butt.  He sauntered up to the bar and slid onto the stool next to me with that crooked smile as if he weren't late at all.  I didn't make mention of it either.

"You been waiting long?" he asked.

Toby brought him a beer.

"Only since noon," I said.

He knew I was kidding, probably knew I was covering up that I was worried. It would embarrass him that I worried about him. He turned full circle on the bar stool, I thought to check the place out and see if there was anybody he knew or who might know him.  There was and he went over to a table to say hello. I was watching in the mirror over the bar. A waitress came up to the table with a half dozen beers and ran her cold hand down his bare arm.  His arm was so big that her small hand lay flat on the muscle. He cringed from the cold and laughed and smacked her on the ass.  A hooker came up to his other side and put her arms around his waist and squeezed his butt and said something in his ear.  He laughed and squeezed her butt hard and she left.  It was like that with him; with all Navy SEALs that I knew. They were quiet, unassuming heroes who took it all in stride.  I could have been jealous except that I was happy in my own skin, and I marveled that he was as comfortable with me as he was with women. He came back to his bar stool with that sexy little twist and swagger in his hips.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it," I said after first looking around to see if anybody was within earshot.  There was nobody except Toby and he didn't matter but you had to be always on guard about everything you said.

"I did," he said.

As always, I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of him; especially his huge arms sticking out of his shirt.  Damn, they were sexy.  It was easier for me to look at him in the mirror but I was still cautious.

Jason looked around the bar.  "Did you get a room?" he asked quietly and casually.

I nodded. We talked for a while, bringing Toby into the conversation when he had time to join us.  Jason downed the rest of his second beer and slid the bottle across the bar with a finality that said he was ready to go.

"Hey, Toby, if those two girls show up, tell them don't go away, we'll be back," he said in a loud voice as he stood down off the barstool.  It didn't matter whether Toby believed there really were two girls.  Somehow, I thought he knew better.

A few blocks away, down side streets and through alleys, was what was known as the Trent Hotel.  It wasn't originally designed as a hotel.  It was a two-story structure of unknown origin that had been converted to a maze of rooms and they put a hotel sign over the door.  On the way, Jason stopped off in a gift shop. I told him the room number, 238, and went on to the hotel.  He would spend a few minutes in the shop then leave and go down the alley and come into the hotel by way of the rear stairs.  The hotel clerk knew the routine.  It wasn't smart for two GIs to be seen going into a hotel together unless there were one or two women on their arms.

I went up the stairs to the room.  I'd already showered and gotten ready for him. I took a big dose of breath freshener and took off my clothes, down to my shorts, and turned the ceiling fan on low. It groaned softly as it came into motion then settled into a steady whir.  I never turned it any higher because it was loud and swung around in wide circles like it was ready to take off.  

The room was big but nothing fancy.  You might say it was furnished for the needs it provided.  The bed was wider than a single, with sheets and a thin blanket and two pillows. There was a tub and shower in the alcove bathroom off to the side, and a sink and mirror with a small window furnishing light. Large shuttered windows faced the street.  Smaller windows faced the alley. The only other furniture was a straight-back chair. There was no dresser because people didn’t bring bags to unpack. A single light fixture hung awkwardly off to the side of the ceiling fan.

I opened the shutters to let in warm, fresher air, and some light. I liked the natural light that shone in.  I was waiting on the bed when Jason came in. Sometimes I thought he kept me waiting on purpose just to build up the anticipation.

He double-bolted the door behind him and went over and closed the shutters over the windows facing the street.  He left the windows open that faced the alley and a blank wall.  He was always careful, afraid there might be somebody spying from a window across the street. He began taking off his clothes which always made me breathless, all the while with his eyes on me, and that thrilled me that he was so open about wanting me. I loved everything about him; his looks, eyes, sense of humor, most of all his body.  His triceps danced as he took off his boots and socks.  He stood up and his arms bulged as he took off his pants.  He climbed on the bed and knelt between my legs, still wearing his muscle shirt and his briefs.  He crossed his arms across his chest and pulled his shirt up, his torso spreading out wide when he pulled it off over his head.  I leaned up and placed my hands on his sides, high on the V where the finger-like muscles wrapped around his rib cage, then on up into his hairy armpits.  He tossed the shirt aside and his pecs settled thick and heavy on his rib cage when he lowered his arms.  Nice hair there, too, a spattering on each side around his tits then the neat, straight line down the center of his abs, disappearing under the waistband of his shorts. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband to shove his briefs down but I stopped him.

"Wait.  Leave them on... let me look at you like this for a minute."

He dropped his hands down to his sides and knelt there, a little awkward, with a goofy, embarrassed smile on his face.  I let my eyes rake up and down his muscular body, zeroing in on his tiny briefs.  They weren't regulation, although they should have been.  The military would save a lot of money on material if they were regulation.  There was barely anything to them; two thin strips curved up over his hipbones trying mightily to support the weight in the pouch stretched around his manhood. They barely contained his massive manhood, and dipped down so low that you could see the curls of hair over the waistband.

"You ought to be on a recruiting poster," I said

"Like this?" he said, laughing.

"If I was in charge of recruiting."

"Is that enough looking?" he asked, shrugging his heavy shoulders.

"Yeah.  Are you getting anxious?"

"You know it," he said. He shoved his briefs down and lifted each knee to pull them off.  His big cock hung out proudly, not yet hard but thick and meaty, with a network of bulging veins.  My breath caught in my throat.  His cock was easily six/seven inches, hanging, with a network of bluish veins under the silken sheath that gave it a bit of a gnarled, virile look when he was hard.  He never got hard fast.  It was like he took his time, no big rush, it would be hard when the time came.

"I don't know how you carry all that around," I said.

He laughed as he ran his hands up and down my thighs several times then tugged at my shorts.  I rose up so he could take them off of me. I watched his muscles bulge and ripple and it was a moment of feeling ravished as he stripped me naked. He tossed my shorts to me and his eyes shifted to my own cock but didn't linger. He was just noticing, with no particular desire for it except that it made me a man and a man was what he wanted at the moment.  Jason was straight, but in that first conversation at that first meeting, when the conversation got around to sex, he’d said just because he was straight didn’t mean he didn’t like sex any way he could get it and that included other guys if that opportunity presented itself. He was straight, but there was desire in his eyes.

"Godd, you look good to me," he said as he leaned over me on his hands and knees and clamped his mouth over my right pec.  I gasped and moaned as he flicked my tit with his tongue then sucked on it.  The bristle on his face felt good.

"Your tits getting bigger?" he asked.

"If they are, you made them that way," I said. They would get bigger with him sucking on them. Yeah, he did that to me just like he did with his women.

He reached down and lifted my left leg around his hip and I lifted them both, tilting my butt up for him. He slid his cock up and down the crack of my butt, made slick with his precome.  His cock was hard now.  Hard and big.  Hard and HUGE.  I trembled a little inside with the familiar anticipation.

"I know you like some foreplay but I am so damned horny," he said, poking his cock at the slick hole.

"I've told you the foreplay is seeing you come through the door, watching you take off your clothes and walk toward the bed. It's all the foreplay I need."

"You're something else, you know that?  So damned unselfish."

"I'll be anything you want me to be."  I said

I felt the pressure of his cockhead against my clenching hole.  He picked up my shorts and handed them to me.  He was always afraid I would make too much noise. I never knew why it mattered. 

"I'm okay," I said.

"I like to see `em in your mouth," he said.

I let him stuff my shorts loosely in my mouth.

“Sometime I’m going to bring one of my old jockstraps for you to chew on,” he said, smiling.

Oh, Godd, when he smiled, I went weak in the stomach. He pushed and I pushed my asshole back at him with that little twinge of fear that always came over me the moment before I was about to be penetrated and impaled on his huge cock. I tried not to remember the pain.  I could feel the awesome power behind his cock, drawn from his tight, hard butt muscles.  Suddenly his cock popped through, leaving me wide-eyed as it always did when he entered me, a lot of it from the excruciating pain, some from the sheer anticipation of the pleasure that I knew would follow.  He barely paused before he sank all the way in me, all ten-plus inches, up to his balls.

"Ohh, Goddddd!" I moaned softly, muffled, as his cock throbbed deep inside me. The weight of his balls felt wonderful against my butt.

"Ohhhh, Fuucckkk!  I've wanted this so bad," he gasped.  He held still with his cock buried deep in my guts.  "You okay?"

I pulled my shorts out of my mouth. "You always ask that and what do I always say?"

"But I know it hurts," he said.  "You tell me it doesn't hurt.  But you can't hide it, hard as you try."

"It hurts like hell, but not for long and it’s nothing I can't handle," I assured him.

He squeezed his butt muscles several times, forcing his cock to nudge at my innermost being, then slowly he withdrew most of the way then slid back in several times; then he set his rhythm and he was fucking me.

"Ohhh….Ohhhhh….Awwhhhh, Godd!" I moaned softly.

"Ohh, yeah… you are so hot and tight," he whispered.

"That's a true miracle, considering the size of your cock stretching me," I said.

"You must have muscles in your shit, to be so tight after all these times," he said.  "And so alive!  Fuck, it feels like a bunch of tiny fingers in a satin glove squeezing my cock."

He leaned over me and kissed my chest as he fucked me with a steady rhythm.  He kissed down my abs then back up across my chest and along the side of my neck.  He had a light bristle on his face even though he had shaved.  He always had it, and I liked it. I turned my face toward him a little but he moved back down my chest.  He always avoided my face and my attempts to kiss him.  He rose up and looked down at his cock going and in and out of me. 

"Fuck, that is so hot, watching your asshole squeeze around my cock, watching your hole stretch and pull out when I pull back.  Looks like it's gonna turn inside out."

"Sometimes it feels like it," I said.

He leaned down and began kissing my chest again.  He really liked my tits. He loved making them swell so he could suck and nibble on them. He kissed back and forth across my chest, down my abs to the safety point where he didn't get too close to my cock, then moved his full lips up across my chest to my neck. His lips sent shivers all through me.  When he was kissing up my neck again...lingering there….I broke the spell.

"Why don’t you go ahead," I said.

"Go ahead and what?' he asked.

"Kiss me.  I think you want to.  It's all right."

He trailed his lips back down to my chest and sucked my tits again. Then he raised his head and looked at me.  His thick, powerful neck was so sexy and it made me weak inside, he was so handsome.

"I wish you hadn't said that," he said hoarsely.

"Why?" I was afraid I'd fucked things up.  I well knew how macho he was and maybe the idea of two guys kissing turned him off.  We had never done it before.

"I was afraid you wouldn't want me to," he said.

"How come you didn't want me to say it?" I asked.

"Because now there's nothing stopping me," he said.  He lowered his head, his face close to mine.  His eyes shifted all around as if he were trying to recognize me, then his eyes met mine. We gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment.  I think it was a moment of indecision for him, maybe doubt.

"I may never do this again but I want to do it once, see what it’s like," he said.

I think I whinnied when his lips brushed over mine, or maybe it was him, or both of us.  I didn't kiss him back at first.  I didn't want to appear too eager; I wanted him to lead the way down this new path of pleasure. I wanted the experiment and the experience to be all his, because the doubts were his.  He flicked his tongue out and traced it back and forth on my lips.  I let them go slack and he took my lower lip between his lips.  I whinnied softly as he washed it with his tongue. When his lips parted, mine were parted to welcome his tongue.  When our tongues touched and sent a shiver through me, I began kissing him back.  He lashed his tongue around mine and I sucked it into my mouth.  It was definitely him who squealed when I did that.  It turned into a long, experimental kiss, with more passion than I think either of us expected. It was almost more an act of love making all by itself.  Finally he broke away with a tiny gasp, his head hung, his eyes half closed.

"Geezuss, I wish I hadn't done that," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I think I liked it."

"You liked it but you didn't want to like it," I said dryly.

"It was hotter than any kiss I remember with a woman."

"I guess I shouldn't say I'm glad."

He bent me more in half, my legs spread out wide, and pressed his body down against mine.  Our muscles strained and flexed and slid together with our sweat, barely cooled by the soft whir of the ceiling fan.  He fucked me, using long, steady strokes, his great cock gouging out the inner-most depths of me.  I was always amazed how I was able to take his huge meat so deep.  I wrapped my arms around his broad, powerful shoulders and hung on.  I kissed the hard column of his muscular neck.

"You feel so fuckin' good….your hard muscles....it’s so different from the softness of a woman," he said.  “The Vietnamese women are so tiny it’s like tossing a rag doll around. With you, it’s more like a challenge; somebody who can give me a run for my money.”

"Careful what you say, you might get to liking it too much," I joked.

"I already do," he said, laughing.  "And sometimes that scares me."

He fucked me hard, he fucked me gentle, he was on the way to fucking my brains out. He didn’t toss me around like a rag doll; and I gave him a run for his money.

"I gotta come.  I wanta come so bad," he whispered.  "I'll fuck you again but I have to drop this load I've been carrying around before I implode."

"Give it to me," I said.  He picked up his pace and I hung on for dear life and clamped my open mouth against his neck as he pounded me unmercifully with his big cock.  The bed creaked and swayed with his motions. I wished he had clamped his mouth over mine so we could have kissed all through his climax but I would not initiate it.  I held him tight, his muscles flexed hard and rippling, till suddenly he gasped and moaned and trembled and half sobbed. Then his cock was shooting great loads of hot semen deep inside me. I could feel it!  It took a long time for him to empty his balls; he had a lot to cum.  I fought to hold off myself.  I knew he would want to fuck me again pretty quick and I wanted to be ready and still primed for him.  He hovered over me, his great chest heaving and his abs rippling with his heavy breathing.  Beads of sweat dripped off his forehead.

"How long have you been saving that?" I asked, holding him close with my arms and legs around him.

"Since last time with you,” he said. He slowly withdrew his cock and toppled off to lie beside me, as if he didn't want the intimacy now that he had come.  He was sometimes like that. He wasn't exactly loving when we were together, especially after, and I was surprised when he shoved his arm under my pillow and pulled me close. Even under the pillow, his arm was so hard it was uncomfortable and I moved my head off his bicep, onto his shoulder.  He needed this so much.  Part of his sexual intensity was the release of all the pressure that he had to leave behind.  It was as if all his fears and emotions were drained out of him when he shot his load.  It was hard for me to imagine Jason being afraid of anything but he told me he was, a lot, when he was out there, and I thought he felt safe when we were together.

"It's always so intense after so long a time," he said.

"The last time was only a week ago," I said.

"You don't know how long my weeks are."       

"No, I don't. I don't think I could do what you do," I said.

"Maybe, but what you do is just as important.  It wouldn't do me any good to bring them in if there wasn't somebody skilled in getting information out of them."

"There must be a lot of them you don't bring in," I said.

He paused. "Most of them I don't.  They’ve been brain washed to believe that you’ll torture and brutalize them and most of them just want to be taken out. But it's their call," he said nonchalantly.  "All they have to do is drop their weapons, drop to their knees and put their hands on top of their heads. Except if they've done anything stupid, like killed or wounded one of our guys. Then I don't give a fuck what info they've got, they're wasted."

I could feel his muscles tighten even as talked.

"You're just doing your job," I said.  I never knew what to say when he talked about it.

"Yeah, fuckin-A-right, just doing the job.  And I'm damn good at it," he said.  Then he changed the subject.  "I'm sorry I was so selfish and I went off so quick, but I really needed it," he said.

"I could tell, you were so intense."

"I'll fuck you again and we'll take our time.  I'll find your spot and drive you up the walls."

"You do that anyway," I said.

We lay quietly for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling fan.

"You know, sometimes, when I'm laying out there waiting for a shot, I let my mind drift back to the time before with you,” he said.  “Sometimes I think that's what gets me through it."

"This is the first time you've even mentioned outright that you're a sniper," I said.

"Yeah, sometimes I do sniper duty.  I volunteer for it.  I'm a good shot and I’ve got the patience, I feel like I have to do it.  Best in the squad, probably the best in the whole company."  He paused   “Maybe not something I should be proud of, but I am.”

“Why shouldn’t you be proud of it?”

“Well, it’s not something you can write home to Mom about,” he said.

“Actually, neither is this,” I said with a quiet laugh as I rubbed my hand across his hard stomach.

We were quiet again for a moment.  But it was one of those times when Jason seemed to want to talk, while at the same time he didn't want to.

"I know what you're wanting to ask me, but after all this time you never have,” he said.

"And I won't ask."

"And I won't answer you.  I will tell you, so far I've never had a miss," he said with a steely determination in his tone.

"I can't imagine doing what you do.  I wouldn't have the courage."

"It's not a matter of courage.  It's not like that.  It's a matter of doing what you've been trained to do."

"I know, you always make light of it.  You all do."

"What do you want me to do, strut around, bragging?  I don't need to.  You know I'm a stud without all the bravado," he said with a mischievous grin.

"You don't have to brag that you're a stud.  It's tattooed on your forehead. You're also a hero to a lot of people, including me and there's nothing you can say to change that," I told him.

"Is that why you take such good care of me?" he asked, laughing.

"You need to be taken care of and I like doing it.  Call it my contribution to the war effort."

"Fuck, you're a Marine just like me. You make your contribution," he said.

"I'm a Marine but not like you.  You're Navy.  The Marines only pays your salary," I joked.

"You guys love rubbing it in, don't you? You like to make it sound like we're the bastard kids at the family reunion."

"Sometimes you act like the bastard kids. But that's what makes you SEALs."

"I don't feel like a hero when I blow some poor guy away when he doesn't even know I'm there," he said in a somber, husky tone. “There’s a feeling of power that surges through me sometimes, but it’s nothing heroic.”

"You're doing what you were trained to do," I reminded him.  "And he must know you're out there, somewhere, waiting."

"But he doesn't know where, or when." He quickly changed the subject again. "Are you ready? I'm ready to start some more maneuvers," he said.

"Yes."

"Prepare to get fucked, Marine," he said as he rolled over on top of me.

"Yes, sir."

"I got mine, this one's for you," he said as he probed my ass with his hot, stiff cock.

And it was.  He made it good, as only he could do.  He probed at my insides from all angles, twisting his lean hips around in circles, making his huge cock lob around inside me so there was nothing untouched.  He concentrated on making it good for me as only he knew how.

"Ohhhhh… Ohh... Ohhhhh... Ohhhhh," I gasped as his cock slid repeatedly over my prostate.

"I found it, didn't I?" he said with a grin.

"Oh, yeah... ohh, fuck yeah...Like that!...Ohhh fuck me!"

He fucked me for over an hour the second time.  He always lasted longer after his first come.  He fucked me like a machine, as if he had no feelings in his own body, like his brain was on auto pilot.  On my back, he folded my body in half and pressed me like a hamburger, so tight I could hardly breathe. He truly did make it all for me.  He exhausted me.  I was a whimpering mess, almost sobbing from the pleasure of it by the time he made me go off.

"Ohh, Godd...Ohh, Jason…Jason, fuck me…fuck meee.... HARD...Ohhh, yessss, do it…awwwwhhhh, you're making me come!"  My cock quivered as it shot out great spurts of cum all over my shoulder and chest and stomach.

He didn't shoot.  I felt his cock still throbbing inside my mushed-up ass after I'd shot off.

"Geezuss, it feels like that thing's still hard," I said.

"Yeah, it is, but it don't matter."

I laughed.  "Feels like it matters a lot," I said, squeezing him with my ass.

"Hey, sometimes I am in control of my cock," he growled.

"Maybe, but not often," I chided him.

He rose up on his haunches and looked down at our juncture.

"I don't think your ass wants to let me go," he said. 

“Then don’t go,” I said.

“I think you’ve had all you can handle,” he said. He slowly pulled his cock out and my asshole clenched the air before it began to close up. It always amazed me that it ever did close up after being stretched and battered by his huge cock.

He lay beside me and we watched his cock throb, glistening with our juices. He gave me his arm as a pillow.  His bicep was big enough but just too hard to be comfortable; but I didn’t tell him, and I didn’t move off of it this time.  Instead I let my head tilt down so my face was nuzzled in his armpit. The hair was damp and he smelled good, of fresh sweat and a trace of deodorant.  We dozed off for a while then Jason got up and showered.  I waited on the bed. I wanted to shower with him but he didn't invite me and I didn't suggest it. I hoped that he would sometime, in his own time.  All things in his own time; like when he'd kissed me.

"Got everything all nice and clean for you," he said, smiling, as he came away from the bathroom drying off, giving special attention to his manhood.  I leaned up across the bed, ready to take him.

"Naw, you don't have to. I was just kidding," he said as he kept drying off.

He never understood; it wasn't a case of have to.  I wanted to.  I always wanted to.  Godd, how I wanted to give him pleasure every minute I was with him, every way I knew how.  With his back to me he bent over to dry his legs.

"Ohh, damn, I wish you wouldn't do that," I moaned.

He laughed over his shoulder.  I moved over and sat on the edge of the bed. 

"Back up here," I said.

He stepped back and stood squarely in front of me.  I ran my hands up his thighs to his butt.

"You can go ahead and dry your legs," I said.

When he bent over his buns spread open, revealing the dark aperture of his most secret entrance, half hidden with a soft flurry of protective hair.  I leaned in and pressed my face against his butt and began licking the crevice.

"OHhh….Ohhhh, mannnn!" he moaned softly.

I flicked the hole with my tongue and licked his ass till his legs were shaking and he had to grab the chair for support.  I pulled his butt apart and drove my tongue through his hole.

"AAAwhwhhhh!  Awww, Fuck, I love it when you do that!" he cried.

“You damn near broke my neck the first time I tried it,” I reminded him.  

“I didn’t know what the fuck you were doing,” he said.

I dove lower and licked his balls, then went back to his ass.  He spread his legs wider. I wanted to crawl into his body and I think he would have let me. Finally, he couldn't take it any longer.  He straightened and turned around. His cock hit me in the face.  I dove for it and began sucking him.

"Ohhh, yeah…suck it...awwwhhh….ohhhhh, you got me so hot eating my ass...I wanta come again….suck it, Brad...ohhh, fuck, man, suck it... don't stop!... I'm gonna COME!… ohhh, take my load!"

I was amazed at the volume of his second load.  I swallowed and washed his cock with my tongue before letting it go.  His legs were shaking as he crawled up on the bed.

“Fuck, you turn my legs to jelly,” he said.

I went to shower.

I was still swallowing the taste of him as I showered.  He surprised me by coming into the alcove to talk while I was in the shower.  Not about anything important; nothing about his job, but it was nice having him there, watching me, like he wanted to be close to me.

We got dressed but didn't check out of the room, in case we wanted to go back. We left and went back to Toby's.  We took a table by the dartboard instead of sitting at the bar.  I thought maybe Jason didn't want to talk to Toby, didn't want him to be asking questions about us. Not that he would.  Nothing was said about the women who were supposedly going to meet us.  I thought Toby had figured us out by now. We sat and drank beer and I reveled in Jason’s company and dreaded the moment when he would leave.

We laughed and joked with guys throwing darts and once  when he shifted under the table his foot touched mine and he left it there and I could feel the pressure.  When the dart game was over he straightened in his chair and leaned in a crouch over the table.

“Tell me your ass is twitching for more,” he whispered with a leering grin.

“It is now,” I said, and it was.

“We didn’t check out of the room,” he reminded me.

“No, we didn’t,” I said.

He downed the rest of his beer and so did I.

To be continued...  

Posted: 02/20/15