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 6
Sgt. Randall, Army Ranger 

The day Jason was to be released from the hospital for duty I made arrangements for a pass so we could slip away and meet at the hotel before he reported back. We had decided to skip Toby’s. I knew he would be ready for me. Long overdue, actually… and I was damn ready for him. I had visions of him fucking me like crazy the whole damned night, and working in a couple of suck sessions even though he was always hot for my ass. He never understood the pleasure I got from sucking his cock, or how I developed such a taste for his cum; he only knew that I loved it. I was all primed as I walked into his room.  He wasn’t there. I rushed down to the nurse’s station.  There was a different orderly on duty; one I’d never met.

“Hey, there was a Navy SEAL in room 201… down the hall… name was Seaborne.”

“He was released. Two guys from his unit came to pick him up,” the orderly said.

I was crushed. I could barely control my emotions.  I left the hospital and walked along the streets, oblivious of the bustling nightlife around me. Godd, I felt so empty.

I spent the next few weeks in limbo, worrying, praying, wondering.  I did my job because that’s what I was trained to do but I felt like a zombie.  There had been long absences before but I had a terrible feeling about this one. Every prisoner they brought in, I wondered if Jason had been the one to capture him. I even dug out a picture I had of Jason and used it in my interrogations, showing it to each prisoner to see if there was any reaction.  None of them seemed to recognize him.

I spent more than my share of time at Toby’s, waiting, drinking, praying that he would show up, praying harder that he was all right.  Surely, he would contact my unit if he could, but still, I sat at the bar in Toby’s and drank myself into a numbness that would let me sleep.  If he could contact me… that was what bothered me.  What if he couldn’t contact me for some reason?  Despite my concern for Jason, or maybe because of it, I was getting hard-up, and my mind wandered to Steve, the young sailor I had broken in.  I asked Toby about him.   

“I had to kick him out,” Toby said disgustedly. “He was coming onto guys, shit, acting like a two-bit whore.  Some guy decked him for making a pass at him.  I told him not to come back.”  Then he must have realized my reason for asking. “Look, I don’t usually do this sort of thing, but I know what you’re going through.  If you’re interested…. you know, as a distraction…..,” he said, nodding and glancing discreetly down the bar.

I looked down the bar to see a burly Army sergeant sipping beer from a bottle and watching the goings-on behind him in the mirror. The guy was big; maybe fifty pounds bigger than me or Jason, with a thick bull neck and huge arms sticking out of his uniform shirt.  I guessed him to be about forty; old enough to be my dad. I had never had any such thoughts about my dad, or older guys in general, and I was surprised at the tremor of perverted excitement that went through me at the sight of this big, older stud.   

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly, with a sudden tingling in my loins. “I mean, I wouldn’t wanta have that guy deck me.”  

“Would I steer you wrong?” Toby said.

“I’ve never seen him in here before,” I said.      

“He just arrived in country a couple of weeks ago.”

“He’s damned intimidating,” I said.

“He can be, so I hear,” Toby said.

“Have you been with him?” I asked.

“No,” he said with a surprised scowl. “I could count on one hand the number of guys I’ve been with who come in here, and even those, I didn’t meet here.  It’s just not good business.  But how long have you known?” he asked with a curious smile.

“I didn’t.  It was all hopeful suspicions and wishful thinking,” I said.

Toby smiled, nodding.  Then he looked down at the soldier again.

“He’s old enough to be my dad,” I observed.  I had never talked like that, so openly, with Toby, nor had he ever been so open with me, but by that time, he knew all about Jason and me, and now I knew about him.

“If you can’t get past the age difference,” Toby said with a shrug.

“No, it's not that, I… I wouldn’t know how to meet him, he's so damned intimidating,” I said, quick enough that Toby could tell that age wasn’t a major factor.  In fact, it was sort of intriguing to me.  “How does he operate?” I asked.  “I mean, how are you sure about him?”

Toby laughed, shaking his head. “Shit, you’re acting like a high school virgin trying to attract the attention of the quarterback for the prom.”

“It’s not been that long since I was a high school virgin,” I said.

“I’ve done all I can do for you, steering you in his direction. You’re on your own,” Toby said, holding up both hands in a defensive gesture, then he walked away.

I wished he would at least introduce us, but that would look weird.  I didn’t think offering to buy the guy a beer would go over too well either.  The longer I sat there, the hotter the guy looked. I stole glances at his thighs bulging against his pants and tried to imagine them, hairy and hard and muscular, locked around my head.  Setting Jason aside for the moment, I was horny for some hard, hot sex and this big stud looked like he could deliver. But he wasn’t acting like he was interested, not in me nor anybody else in the place. He seemed like he was in his own little world. I was beginning to wonder if Toby was off base. Then I got my break when he waved Toby over.

“Get me another cold one,” he said.  “And set one up for everybody at the bar.”

“Yes, sir, sergeant,” Toby said.

So maybe that was how the guy operated, except that there were three other guys at the bar besides him and me, so there was no reason to believe that he was buying me a beer for any particular reason.

While Toby was setting cold beers up on the bar and telling everybody it was from the sergeant at the end of the bar, the sergeant pulled out a wad of money and slapped it on the bar, then slid off the stool and headed for the restroom.  Toby glanced at me.  It was a pretty common way to meet up with someone but it was all I knew to do. I headed for the restroom.  He was standing at the urinal, his thick thighs spread apart, his big hard butt flexed inside his pants.  He took up damn near the space of two urinals but I managed to squeeze into the third one, standing to his right.

“Hey, thanks for the beer,” I said.

“Yeah, no problem,” he said.

I tried to keep my eyes fixed on the graffiti on the wall in front of me. I dared a couple of furtive glances within my peripheral vision but that didn’t reveal much because the sergeant held his cock in his right hand. I felt myself breaking out in a sweat, panicked that he would walk out of the restroom without us making connections.

“Toby said you just got in country,” I said. My voice sounded unsteady.  Fuck I was acting like a high school virgin.

“Yeah, third tour,” he said.

“No kidding! Wow!  How come they keep bringing you back?”

“I come back on my own,” he said as he gave his cock a few jerks.  Then, without rhyme or reason, he switched hands to put his cock away.  “After a while, the place starts feeling like home,” he went on as he pulled his fly apart with his right hand and put his meat away with his left, but not before I got a brief look.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Fuck, even hanging, he was big around as a beer can. Hard, I imagined it was going to be the size of a ball bat.

“You married?” I asked. 

“Not anymore,” he said. “Hard to find a woman to put up with a guy going all over the world to fight somebody else’s wars.”

“You were in Korea?” I asked.

“Yep.  Once in the middle of it, and again with the peace-keeping forces,” he said. “Look, son, the urinal ain’t no place to tell war stories,” he added, sounding rather impatient.

“Could I join you at the bar? I would like to hear more,” I asked.   

“Okay with me.”

When we returned, I got my beer and went back to sit beside the sergeant. 

“Sgt. Randall,” he said, putting out his hand.

“Brad Courter, Marines,” I said.

“Well, somebody’s gotta be second best,” he drawled.

I didn’t take offense at his remark.  He wasn’t the type to seriously put down any branch of the service and I wasn’t about to suggest that he was second best. Things were looking up. I started asking more questions about his military.  He didn’t volunteer anything but he answered my questions.

“You said you weren’t married anymore.  How long were you married?” I asked. 

“About eighteen years.”

“That’s a long time for it to break up,” I said.

“Like I said, she couldn’t handle it.  The straw that broke the camel’s back was when my son enlisted. She blamed me for that.  She could be right; he was always one to try to follow in my footsteps.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” I said.

“Depends on where my footsteps take him,” he said

“Did he join the Army?”

“Yeah.  He’s over here,” he said.

“No Shit! Where? Is he in your outfit?”

“No.  He’s up north someplace. I never know where, for sure.”

“Have you seen him since you came in country?” I asked.

“We had a chance to have a beer together right after I got here, before he shipped up north. Haven’t seen him since.”

“I don’t know, I would like to say it would be neat as hell, being over here with your dad, but I guess for you, it's got its downside.  I’ll bet you wish he was in your outfit so you could look out for him.”

“He’s a Ranger.  He don’t need me to look out for him,” he said.

“Wow!  I guess he doesn’t.  You must be proud as hell.”

“I am.  I just wish his mother was.”

I was thoroughly enjoying talking to the man but there was still the itch in my balls that made me squirm on the stool, just being close to the guy. Friendly as he was, I didn’t know how to get anything started.  There was still the dad image for me, and maybe he was looking at me like his son. 

“You ready for another beer?” he asked.

“Yeah, but let me buy,” I said.

“I still got money I need to get rid of. Reenlistment bonus,” he said.

When he twisted around on his stool to flag Toby, his knee came against my thigh.  I didn’t pull away and he didn’t either. 

“For everybody again?” Toby asked.

“Nope.  Just me and him.”

Nursing the second beer, every time one of us twisted or turned on our stool, our legs would touch.  We didn’t exactly play kneesies but we didn’t go out of our way to not touch.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve had my limit,” he said as he downed the rest of his beer. 

“Yeah, me too.”

“You doing anything after here?” he asked, and this time, letting his knee rest firmly against my thigh.

“No.”

“Do you know the Trent?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, surprised.

“I’ve got a room there.  Number 216.  Come on up if you want to.  I’ll pick up a six-pack and we can drink ourselves into a stupor.”

“I’ll pass on the stupor but I would like your company. I like talking to you,” I said.

“Give me ten minutes head start,” he said.         

Ordinarily, despite the itching desire, I wouldn’t have gone with him.  There was no way of knowing if it was set-up.  But Toby had vouched for him and I felt safe.  And excited.  He left and I nursed my beer for a few minutes.

“No go, huh?” Toby said quietly as he picked up the empty bottle off the bar.

“On the contrary,” I said.

“It’s none of my business, but what do you want me to tell Jason if he shoes up?”

“Tell him I was in, then left.  Try to find out when he’s coming into Saigon again.”

The mention of Jason gave me pause about going to meet Sgt. Randall. If I left and Jason showed up, I would never forgive myself…. but then, I could wait all night, or a week.  Shameful to say, but it was a case of a bird in the hand. And I took some comfort in knowing that Jason would probably do the same thing. Still, I felt guilty the way the worry had so easily given way to lust.  I called Toby to the end of the bar as I was leaving.

“Listen, if Jason does come in, tell him I’m at the Trent, room 216.”

Toby scowled at me. “That could be a hairy situation, him walking in on you and the sergeant,” he said.

“I’ll deal with it,” I said. “I can’t take the chance of missing him.”

Excited as I was, I took my time walking to the Trent. I went in the back way, took the stairs that led up behind the storeroom where the desk clerk couldn’t see me. I often wondered why they left the back door open, but I guess it was conducive to their business because a lot of guys used it. I tapped lightly on 216 and a gruff voice told me it was open.

“Slide the bolt,” the sergeant said as I went in. He was taking off his shirt, and I fumbled behind me for the bolt so I wouldn’t have to take my eyes off of him.  His T-shirt was stretched to the limit over his massive upper body. His chest muscles stuck out in two wide, thick slabs and his big nipples protruded against the thin material. The sleeves were stretched around his huge biceps and I could see his stomach muscles ripple when he moved.

“Which team do you play for?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“What position do you play? Quarterback or center? Pitcher or catcher?” he asked.

I finally caught on.

“Anny position,” I said.

“You’re my kind of ball player,” he said.

“I wasn’t sure, back at the bar,” I said. “You’re kinda  intimidating.”

He laughed.  “Go ahead, strip down,” he said as he crossed his arms and tugged his T-shirt out of his pants.  His lats spread out like bat wings when he peeled the shirt off over his head and his pecs settled on his rib cage with a little bounce when he lowered his arms.  I couldn’t help comparing him with Jason.  He was heavier muscled than Jason and more hairy, with a thick mat of dark hair on his chest, a lighter flurry on his stomach and a dark trail separating the bricks of his ab muscles, leading into the waist of his pants.

“Damn, I’ll bet nobody gives you any shit,” I said, openly admiring his bare upper body. I watched him undo his belt, his triceps and pecs snapping to attention.

“I don’t mind you looking, but I’d like for you to give me something to look at too,” he said.

Yeah, I was staring. I quickly pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside.

“Fuckin’ nice,” he said with an admiring look.

“I’m a lot smoother than you,” I remarked.

“Not a problem,” he said as he bent over to unlace his combat boots.  “How old are you anyway?” he asked as he pulled his boots off.

“Nineteen. Almost twenty.”

“About my son’s age,” he said, but I couldn’t read anything into it.

“I hope that’s not a problem,” I said.

“No. Why should it be?  I like ‘em young and full of cum,” he said, laughing. He pulled off his pants and hung them over the back of the chair. The waistband of his white briefs pulled down in the front under the weight of his manhood, and the pouch shifted from side to side and bounced when he moved.  I could hardly wait to see him naked. I was surprised when he put his boots back on and tied them up, then pulled his shorts off.  Fuck, he looked awesome standing there naked except for his boots. His thighs were massive, coated with a light flurry of hair that thinned out and faded a little as it spread over his hard, heavy-muscled butt. 

“For the record, I only play offense,” he said.

“Yes, sir, coach, but I doubt I’ll be able to put up much defense against you,” I said. I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant but I thought he was telling me that he was going to be in charge, I was going to be the water boy. Whatever, I wasn’t going to argue with him.  When he turned around facing me, I got an eyeful. He was hard, standing up at an angle, throbbing and quivering with each throb.

“Holy shit,” I swore softly, mentally comparing him with Jason, who set the standard for studliness.  Jason was big; the biggest I’d ever seen, and Randall didn’t match him in length; maybe eight inches, but he had the thickest cock I’d ever seen.  Fuck, it was bigger around than a beer can; more like the big end of a ball bat and just hanging, it was the most virile looking hunk of man meat I'd ever seen, with big, bluish veins that gave it an almost gnarled look.  I felt my asshole tighten at the mere thought of the guy trying to fuck me.  But he’d said he was playing offense, which likely meant that I was going to get fucked, like it or not.  Not that I minded terribly; I was just a little scared.  "Fuck, that's as intimidating as you are," I said.

The sergeant laughed at my outburst at his cock.

“That don’t scare you, does it?” he asked

“No, I… I just never expected to see anything so big; so big around.  It looks as big as my wrist.”

“Let’s see,” he said, reaching for my arm.  He clamped his hand around my wrist to get a measurement between his thumb and forefinger. He had big hands, and there wasn’t much distance between them. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock.

“Shit!” I swore.  “It’s bigger than my wrist!”

“Not much,” he said.

Maybe the inch and a half that separated his thumb and forefinger wasn’t much to him, but it calculated out to one huge cock.  That wasn’t counting the big, bluish veins scattered all around the surface that were going to take up room, nor the even larger head that was going to lead the charge in penetrating me.  I imagined it alone would be the size of a baseball.

Still, I was excited, and I saw the excitement in his eyes as I peeled my shorts off and stood naked before him.  Right away, he let me know that he was the boss, the coach, on defense.  He clasped his big hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees. I swallowed hard, wondering how the hell I was going to handle the massive cock, let alone do it justice. He clamped his hands around my head so I would know what I was expected to do.  I wet my lips and opened my mouth as far as I could; so far I thought my jaws might lock.  I spread my lips around the curvature of the head, washing the precum off with my tongue.  He tasted good.  I stretched my lips the rest of the way around the head and locked them around the gristly rim, and my mouth was full.  I went through the motions of sucking him, but there was too much cock to do it right.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna be able to suck you like I want to,” I said.

“You were doing fine with your tongue. I like tongue,” he said.  He locked his hands around my head again and began fucking my mouth. I wrapped one hand around the shaft of his cock to control his thrusts.  If he got carried away, or went sadistic on me and slammed his cock into my throat, I was dead meat. 

“What we’re gonna do is, I’m gonna blow you a load to get primed, then I’m gonna fuck you,” he said.

Okay, I thought. Who was I to argue with him; he was the coach.  But I was scared out of my wits about being skewered on his big cock. After a while my jaws adjusted and I was able to suck him better.  I think part of it was adding to my excitement by running my hands up and down his massive, hairy thighs, and feeling his thick pec muscles. But I still couldn’t get much more than half of his cock in my mouth.  I loved his body, though, and explored every inch of it that I could reach. I thought of Jason as I sucked him and wondered just how I would handle it if he happened to walk in.  More, I wondered how he would handle it.

Randall left no doubt that he was the coach.  He pulled his cock free and turned around with his butt in my face.  He had a great ass; big and heavy and hard, and hairy; a lot more hairy than Jason’s.  He grabbed my head and smashed my face in his butt. When my tongue made contact, he reached back and pulled his butt apart, exposing the hairy pit with his hole hidden somewhere at the bottom.  I whinnied with excitement from being forced and having to search through the hair to find his hole.  I found it and began tonguing his ass.

“Awwhhh, Yeahhh!” he moaned gruffly.  “Oh, fuck, yeah, eat that ass.”

I rimmed him for a while then he turned around and fed me his cock again.

“I didn’t tell you, but you’re also gonna swallow my load,” he said.

I nodded in obedience without missing a lick. It never entered my mind to take his load in my mouth then spit it out.  Besides, his precum tasted good and I hoped his cum would, too.  Godd, he tasted good and I was absolutely loving the feel of his monster-thick meat in my mouth. He didn’t tell me when he was ready to go off but I could tell. His big butt muscles trembled and flexed hard in my hands and his powerful thighs trembled.  His cock was like a cannon.  It swelled out and got hard as steel, then bolted and bucked in my mouth, then went off.  I was nearly jolted backwards by the power of his load shooting out the thick barrel.  The second blast filled my mouth and the third was running out the corners of my mouth.

“Swallow,” he ordered.

I gulped it down and swallowed as fast as he gave it to me.  He didn’t come as much as Jason, but it was thick; I could smash the globs between my tongue and his cock and get the full flavor of him before I swallowed.

He didn’t linger, maybe because his legs were shaking so bad.  He pulled out and cupped his hands under my arms and pulled me to my feet; actually he lifted me off my feet.

“You’re damned good,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said in a weak voice. I was so glad I’d pleased him, but I knew what was coming next.

He went to the bed and stretched out on his side, moving over to make room for me. I saw a small tube of lube that he’d slipped under the pillow. When I joined him on the bed, he pushed me onto my stomach but then tilted my head up and kissed me.  That surprised me.  It was a hard, passionate kiss; not of tender passion, but the passion of one man for another. In his case, it was more lust than passion. I kissed him back, just as hard. I thought he was going to suck my tongue out. At the same time he was playing with my butt. He was rough, squeezing my butt muscles so hard it hurt, but I didn’t complain.  He broke the kiss and stuck his fingers in my mouth.

“Give me some spit,” he said.  I did and he used his slick fingers to probe my ass. He wasn’t brutal, but he wasn’t gentle either about shoving his long, thick finger deep in my ass. I wondered why he didn’t use the lube.

“Aawooohhh,” I cried softly when he found my prostate.

He twisted his finger around, stretching my hole.  Then he gave me a second finger, and a third. He shoved hard, till I thought he might try to shove his entire fist inside me.  I reached for the lube.  Scared as I was, I wanted to feel that big cock boring into me, but I was also half afraid that he might try to fist fuck me, the way he was using his thick fingers.  I didn’t want him to do that.  I found the lube.

“Ah, you’re ready for it,” he said, laughing softly, when I held the uncapped tube out to him.

“Yes.  I know you’re the coach, but your boy wants that big cock,” I said.

“Yeah… my boy,” he said huskily. “Wish it was my boy,” he added, his voice sort of trailing off.

I didn’t know what to make of his remark.  Was he wishing that it was his own son lying here beside him, about to be fucked by his own dad?  The idea jolted me a little, but it excited me, too.

“I’ll be your boy for now,” I offered.  Not that I’d ever had any such thoughts about my father, but suddenly, in the heat of the moment, it excited me to think of him as a dad. Fuckin’ weird, but I couldn’t help it. 

“Yeah, let’s get this all nice and slick for you, Son,” he said, as he lubed up his cock then worked his fingers around inside me.

The more I tried to psych myself up for it, the more scared I got.  He was going to tear me apart.  I didn’t know if he sensed my fear, but when he moved on top of me, he clamped one hand over my mouth.

“Spread your legs out more,” he said.

I did as he said, offering myself up for the slaughter. His cock spread my butt muscles apart then I felt the heat of it against my hole, then felt the pressure behind it. He gave me a few nudges then bore down, hard and unrelenting.  I tried to relax as I felt my asshole give but he didn’t wait. I pushed out on my asshole and the next instant he burst through the tight sphincter muscle and sank his cock all the way to his balls.  I reared up, gaping wide-eyed from the pain, clenching my butt muscles hard against the intruder.  It hurt so bad it took my breath away; I couldn’t even cry out.  I think I might have screamed but I heard no sound; I just felt it reverberate in my head. I saw stars, then blackness hovering over me; Godd, it hurt!!  For the first time, if I could have, I think I would’ve tried to get away, but he had me pinned so tight I couldn’t move.

“Hang in there, Son, it’s gonna start feeling good in a minute,” he said.

My asshole clenched angrily around the thick intruder and thankfully, after a very long moment I could feel the pain gradually subside. His cock was like a hot steel bar inside me, rubbing against my prostate each time it throbbed, and that massage effect soon emerged over the pain, and finally subdued it.  When he could see that I was calming down he removed his hand from my mouth.

“Feeling better, huh?” he said, hovering over me like a giant.

“It’s not hurting….so bad,” I conceded nervously, but I kept my butt muscles clenched as tight as I could. 

“It’d be a lot easier on you if you relax your butt muscles. You’re all tensed up and that’s making it worse,” he said. 

I tried and the sergeant bore down harder, twisting his hips around, causing his cock to lob around inside me, really stretching me.  He picked up on my moans and eased his cock out a few inches.  I groaned louder when he shoved it back in.  It felt like he was splitting me apart with his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, Son,” he said as he pulled all the way out then plunged back through my hole.

“Awwhhh,” I cried softly.

He did it again, and again, till I was anticipating the plunge, even lifting my butt up to meet his thrusting cock. Then he drove in hard and deep and began fucking me. 

“Relax your butt muscles so I can get in deeper,” he said.

I followed the sergeant’s orders and he skewered me deeper. I was mesmerized by the big man hovered over me, driving his huge cock into my body.  He slid his powerful arms under my armpits to get a grip on my shoulders then let his weight down on me.  I loved his hairy chest against my back, and the feel of his hairy thighs rubbing against mine. He was a magnificent man and I found myself wondering what his son looked like; wondering if he was imaging that I was his own son that he was fucking.

I don’t know how long he fucked me. He seemed to just go on and on, without any visible effort of trying to hold off.  I wondered if this was part of the reason he wasn’t married anymore, if perhaps his wife wasn’t able to accommodate his size on a regular basis, or hold up under the incessant pounding of his cock.  As for me, he had me on the verge of cumming almost from the start after the pain went away. His cock was so big that no nerve ending could escape the steady friction and my prostate was under siege with every thrust and throb. I didn’t try to hold off either. I ached to let it go, and it felt like I might explode from the pressure building up inside me.

“I wanta come,” I gasped finally.  “I have to come, sir, I can’t stand it; I feel like I’m going to explode.  Please, sergeant, make me come. You can fuck me again, but Godd, I need to come.”

He didn’t say anything.  He just kept fucking me, except he would throw in an extra twist and turn with his hips and corkscrew his cock into me. He was playing hell with my prostate and my asshole, and I was about to go berserk with my face buried in the pillow.  I was moaning and whimpering like a teenage virgin being fucked by the fullback. He built me up then leveled off; then took me a little higher, and leveled off again.  He was torturing me.  I was ready to beg him.

Suddenly, he rose up and put one arm around my stomach to pull me up to my hands and knees. I could feel the cool breeze of the fan against my sweaty back. 

“You wanta come?” he said, clamping his big hands around my hipbones in a vise-like grip.

“Oh, Godd, yes, sir, sergeant, please, you’re driving me crazy. You can fuck me again, but please, just make me come.”

He shoved my legs apart with his knees, which forced my hips up and my butt at a tilt, and started fucking me hard.  Really hard.

“Ohh, My Goddd,” I groaned, tossing my head back, as his cock found new territory inside me. I could feel his sweat dripping onto my butt, and the room resounded with the loud smack-smack-smack of his hard loins against my ass.  Next, he took a vise-like grip on my shoulders and began pounding me like a jack-hammer.  He fucked me so hard and fast that I was afraid the bed might collapse.  I couldn’t breathe; he didn’t give me time to breathe.  All I could do was hang onto the steel frame of the headboard and pray for a climax.

Finally, it happened. The sensation of exquisite ecstasy overtook me and I suddenly felt like I was imploding and exploding at the same time. I started to cry out but quickly buried my face in the pillow to stifle it.  I choked and groaned and nearly sobbed as my climax wracked my body, only vaguely aware of the great ropes of hot semen streaking up across my chest and the back of my arms. I was more aware of the sergeant blowing his load inside me; the heat, the power, of being filled with his cum. And at some point, his meaty fist wrapping around my cock to jack me off with my own cum that he used as lube.

Maybe I blacked out for a minute, I didn’t know. I only knew that I opened my eyes to his rugged, handsome face hovered beside mine, smiling with a trace of concern.

“You okay, Son?” he asked.  

“I think so,” I gasped breathlessly.

“You sure emptied the tanks,” he said. “Shit, you come like a pony.”

I shoved my knees back to lie flat on the bed, and Sgt. Randall rested his considerable weight on top of me. I tightened my asshole around his cock to see if it still worked.

“Am I too heavy? Want me to pull out?” he asked.

“No, you don’t have to. This is fine,” I said.

It was, but I couldn’t lie under his weight very long.  When I squirmed under him he rose up, slowly extracting his thick cock from my ass.  He left a hole gaping so wide that I could feel the cool air up inside me.  I tried to clench my hole but it didn’t close.  He wasn’t done.

Over the next few hours he really got into calling me son when he fucked me and force-fed me his cock and referring to himself as dad, but I couldn’t tell if he was really thinking of me as his own son, or if it was just a term between an older and younger guy. I definitely got the impression that he was comparing me with him. I decided I loved having sex with an older man, but there was just something too perverted about calling him, or even thinking of him as my dad.

I was exhausted by the time we were finished for the last time. He laughed as I crawled to sit on the edge of the bed then tried to stand.  He reached out to steady me.

“You’re not new to this,” he said.

“No,” I said.  “Well, I’m new to a cock that size.”      

“Come on, I’ll help you into the shower with me,” he said.

He steadied me to the shower and handed me the soap.  I washed him, loving every minute of feeling his hard muscles.

“You got a picture of your son?” I asked as we were getting dressed.

He finished zipping up his pants then dug a picture out of his wallet and handed it to me.     

“Damn! You’re right, he don’t need anybody looking out for him,” I said. He was ruggedly handsome, square jawed and steely eyed, a muscular neck and face. He looked tough, a lot like his dad.

“He’s the kind of guy you want covering your back,” the sergeant said.

Yes, in more ways than one, I thought.

“I’m sure glad he’s on our side,” I said. Yeah, I would definitely like for him to cover my back. “I’ll bet he left some broken hearts back home,” I said.

Sgt. Randall smiled proudly.  “He had so many girls after him.  Not just girls, hell grown women, some of them married.”

“No kidding!”

“Yeah, one of them was a real hot-to-trot mama.  She was always making little passes and hinting around at me but I kept reminding her that I was a married man. Well, then one day she was hanging over the fence and my son was mowing the grass--had his shirt off and wearing his old gym shorts--and she said she guessed she was going to have to concentrate on him if she couldn’t have me. He was already a big boy. Hell, he looked eighteen when he was fifteen. Couple of weeks after he did  turn eighteen, I found out she’d nailed him.”

“How did you find out? Did he tell you?  You didn’t catch them, did you? Did you keep an eye on him?”

“Naw, I didn’t bother keeping a very close an eye on him.  If it was going to happen, well, it was going to happen.  I didn’t catch them--wish I had, that’d been something to see--but no, she told me.”

“She came right out and told you she fucked your son?”

“Yup. I think she was trying to get me to fuck her so she would leave him alone, but I still didn’t weaken.”

“Was it just that one time?” I asked.

“I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it.”

“Well, I hope you get to meet up with him again real soon.”

I left the hotel alone, barely in time to make it back to base. My legs were shaking and I was walking funny. It felt like somebody had pulled a ball bat out of my ass and left a big, gaping hole. I admit, I looked for him every time I went back to Toby’s, but Toby said he had shipped out to another unit to train the Vietnamese.

I was beginning to sink into a state of depression over Jason.  Toby was good about keeping tabs on everybody, and he hadn’t heard a word of his whereabouts.  At first I prayed but then abandoned the effort.  After that I cried. Yeah, more than one night, this big, tough Marine cried in his pillow. Then out of the blue, I got a call at the orderly room from Toby! I gasped when I heard his voice, and a hard pressure in my chest cut off my air.

“What’s up?” I managed to ask.

“Good news,” he said.

I let the air gush out of my lungs in a great sigh of relief, and stifled my sob of happiness and relief.

“Is he… there?” I asked.

“No, but somebody from his unit was in, and he’s all right.”

“Where the hell has he been?” I asked.

“Went someplace for some special training, for a special mission of some kind.”

“Geezuss, they’ve got him so highly trained now, he can carry a bayonet in his ass,” I said.

“The guy delivered a message from him, for you; said he would be getting in touch as soon as he could.”

I bit my lip, trying to fight down my emotions over the phone.  “Thanks, Toby,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said.  “You okay, buddy?”

“I am now,” I said. But I wasn’t. I could barely keep my composure till I got back to my bunk. When I did, I crawled under the blankets and put the pillow over my head and cried tears of relief and happiness.

I didn’t sit around the barracks waiting for a call.  Sometimes the Army’s communications wasn’t that good, and I didn’t trust it.  I was at Toby’s every night.  Lenient as the CO was, the first sergeant reminded me that I was abusing my pass privileges. 

Then one night I walked in the door at Toby’s and there he was, sitting at the bar, at the same stool, like it had been reserved for him. I stopped cold in my tracks at the door. I couldn’t go in.  I couldn’t face him; not in the bar.  I choked up just seeing him.  I wasn’t sure he had seen me, but Toby saw me just as I turned to walk out.  I walked hurriedly to the park across the street and made my way down the winding paths that bordered the small ponds, to the bench hidden by the trees. I sat down and hunched over and began sobbing so hard I thought my heart would rip loose. The son of a bitch, didn’t he know how much I loved him?

I pondered going back into Toby’s, but thought better of it. I was in no condition, and I would be lousy company. Finally, I washed my face in the pond, and feeling down trodden and empty, I headed back to the barracks. The bustle in the streets helped ease the hurt, at least for the walk back. Saigon was like that; intoxicating.  I walked up to the guard shack to show my pass.

“You’re back early,” the guard said.  He was used to seeing me come in barely before my pass expired. Not that it would have made any difference.  Like I said, I was in good standing with the CO.

“Yeah, I’m beat.  Too many nights out in a row,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I stepped out of the shack and walked toward the gate.

“Hey, buddy.”

I froze in my tracks at the sound of the voice.  I know it took me seconds to turn toward him.  There he was, sitting on the edge of the wide stone and mortar base of the fence where the heavy steel posts were embedded.

I walked over to him, too breathless to speak.

“Toby said you left,” he said. “How come you left?”

I turned my head away. I couldn’t look at him. I was afraid if I did, he wouldn’t be there when I looked back.  

“I went looking for you. Couldn’t find you, so I figured I would wait here,” he said as he stood up. “I knew you would have to come out eventually.  So why’d you just walk out like that?”

My heart was pounding and my lungs didn’t seem to work and there was an awful pressure building up in my chest. I was about to explode with emotions that would prove embarrassing to both of us.

“Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have come,” he said quietly, talking low so the guard wouldn’t overhear.  I think he was embarrassed that it might look like we were having a lovers’ quarrel.

“I was….in the park, across the street,” I said as I raised my head and looked at him. Our eyes met and I could see the bewilderment in his.  The poor guy, he didn’t know what the hell was wrong and I couldn’t tell him.  Suddenly, I shoved past him and walked several yards down the street in front of the compound. I heard him say something to the guard then heard his footsteps, catching up to me.

“Hey, you might need this,” he said, handing me my pass that he’d retrieved from the guard.

I took the pass and stuffed it in my shirt pocket and kept walking. We walked for over a block without saying anything. I wanted to get somewhere, be someplace where I could let it all out if I couldn’t control it.

“You wanta tell me what the fuck is going on?” Jason asked in a gruff, bewildered, impatient voice.

“I don’t know if I can explain it so you would understand,” I said in a surly tone. I crossed the street, walking toward the park, and Jason followed me.

“Try me,” he said.

We ducked under the low hanging trees that all but hid the entrance to the back of the park. I found a secluded spot with a bench beside another small pond. I stood looking down at the pond for a long moment.

“Look, if I’ve fucked up somehow, you gotta at least give me a chance to make it right,” Jason said.

I turned to face him squarely. “You didn’t fuck up. I’m the one who’s fucked up. I get fucked up every time you leave and go back out there, to wherever it is you go, and I don’t know where you’re at or when you’re coming back, or if you’re coming back.”

“None of us knows that,” he cut in.

“The day you were discharged from the hospital, I went to meet you… I had a pass, and a room.”

“Geez, I’m sorry. But I couldn’t help it.  There were two guys there to pick me up, there wasn’t time to see you or leave word.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. 

“Well, hey, I’m back, for what it’s worth,” he said

I started to laugh, but choked on my emotions instead. I thought I had them buried, but they came up again like vomit about to choke me. He didn’t see it at first. He asked me again how come I left Toby’s and that’s when I lost it.  I sat on the bench, hunched over with my face in my hands, and I lost it. I didn’t feel a bit bad about crying, or embarrassed when Jason sat down and put his arm across my shoulder.  GIs cry all the time for various reasons. If anybody happened by, they would just think I had lost a buddy.

“Geezuss, Brad, what the hell…..?”

“You stupid fuck, you don’t have a clue what it means for you to be back,” I managed.

“Well, I sort of do,” he said. But he didn’t, not the way I meant it.

“When I started to walk into Toby’s and saw you there…. shit, I worried day and night and tried to tell myself that you were okay, and when I saw you sitting there, I was so fuckin’ relieved and happy, I… I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I would’ve embarrassed both of us, like now.”

"You're not embarrassing me," he said.  His arm tightened across my shoulder, in a gesture of compassion that I’d never seen before.  He held me till I was settled down, without saying a word. I didn’t know what I expected him to say. Nothing, really. It was enough to just have his strong arm on my shoulder.

“I’ll do my best to make it up to you, if you’ll let me,” he said in a hoarse voice. It sounded like he was choked up himself.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I said. “It’s this war. This fuckin’ war keeps getting in the way and screwing things up.”

“You wanta go fuck?” he asked in a low, mischievous tone.

I choked on my laughter.  “You know just what to say.”

“Well, there’s not much that goes wrong in this world that a good fuck won’t cure,” he said.

He was right, and somehow, his saying it made things all right for the moment. 

We were leaving the Trent Hotel the next morning to part ways and return to our units when we came across a vender selling newspapers, sounding almost hysterical.  I bought one to see what was going on.  Hell, maybe the war was over.  I must've gone pale when I saw the headline.

"Shit, look at this!  Dwong has been assassinated!" I handed the paper to Jason.

Jason took the paper to read the story.  His face fell and he looked pale.  We didn't know what impact it would have but of course it was big.

"Geezuss!" he swore softly and dropped the paper like it was hot.

"What?"  I asked.

"Qui Nhon.  He was assassinated at Qui Nhon," he said in a whisper.  "I was at Qui Nhon."

I looked at him, confused.  He leaned against the side of the building for support.

"Jason, what's the matter?"

"I took him out," he said quietly, staring blankly at me.

"What?"

"I shot the fuckin' president of Viet Nam."

Now I was numb. News that a politician had been blown away wasn't particularly devastating to me, or even news at all for more than a day or two, but this was the president of the country, and Jason was saying he had done it!

"What're you talking about? They said you were sent someplace for special training.”

"And they just happened to have an assignment for me... another target... something that just came up, they said, and since I was there.  The fuckers set me up.  They used me as their assassin."

"You didn't know?"

"No. All they told me was that he was very big... a VC general... and I shouldn't miss."

"How do you know it was Dwong?"

"They had my position already picked out for me, down to the precise spot. Shit, man, a sniper always picks his own location. His entourage came down this narrow road and stopped in a small clearing and this so-called general got out of his vehicle... I supposed to take a piss…."  He leaned down and picked up the paper and studied the photo.

"But how do you know it was Dwong and not the VC general like they said?” I asked. “Hell, I didn't even know what the guy looked like till now."

"I had him in my scope, man.  I had his face right here," he said, holding his hand a few inches from his face.  He looked down at the photo again.  "It was that man's face. And the colonel told me when I reported back; ‘this is not a confirmed kill. This mission never happened.'"

We stood there for a moment, both of us reeling in disbelief.

"Hey, if somebody decided he needed to be taken out......,” I said.

"Don't you understand, dammit? I killed the president of a country!" he blurted. "That makes me a political assassin.  My next payday, I will be getting paid as a political assassin."

"Okay, you pulled the trigger. It was your steady finger, your sharp eye, your steel nerves, your brass balls, but you didn't pick the target. Somebody at the top did that. It makes you a Navy SEAL doing your job, following orders, not an assassin.  What if you had known?  Would you have refused to do it?'

"I don't know.  No... if somebody decided he needed to go, I couldn't refuse to follow the order."  He started walking.  I caught up and threw my arm across his shoulder.

"You gotta deal with this, Jason," I said.

"They fuckin' used me, dammit!  The training was a farce.  Fuck, I didn’t need training, I’m the best they’ve got; they knew I was the best they could find to do the job. That’s why they sent for me. They brought me to Qui Nhon for the sole purpose of carrying out an assassination.”

"Okay, you're going to take out President Dwong.  You know it; they tell you up front.  What's different?"

"Well, for starters, I would’ve been so nervous, I probably would've missed," he said, half laughing.

"Shit, if there was any chance of that they wouldn't have sent for you. Shit, you'll probably get a medal."

"Didn't you read the story?  He was shot, ambushed by unknown assailants. They don't give medals to unknown assailants. Besides, it didn’t happen, remember? I shouldn’t even be talking to you about it.”

“Well, you probably shouldn’t mention it to anyone else,” I said.

We were at the intersection where we had to part ways.  I almost offered to walk him a little further in his direction but it wasn't an appropriate thing to do for a SEAL.

"Get some sleep when you get back," I told him.

"Yeah."

"When will you be back in town?" I asked.

"I'll call you when I get back in," he said.

"You're going out again, right away?"

"It's what I do," he said.

"You know sometimes I think I gotta feel your balls just to see how big and hard they are."

"Not here," he said, laughing.

To be continued...  

Posted: 02/20/15