A Marine Called Jason
(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2007-2011 by the Author)
 

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

Chapter 22
Roger's Visits 

I advanced in my job and became a foreman, in charge of my own construction sites. The pay was good. I was enjoying fixing up my place, and I especially enjoyed Hunter's visits. He was great helping me out.  One time he brought Roger with him and he proved to be pretty handy with tools, too. I was beginning to appreciate my niece’s choice in men.

Roger dropped by several times by himself “to help out.”  We didn’t spend much time working on the house before we were in bed.  Godd, he was hot.  Careful as I was, we became careless and nearly got caught one time.  We had gotten right down to sex; his cock found either my mouth or my ass--yeah, I had introduced him to fucking male ass--he was fucking me into next week when a voice came booming up the stairs.

“Hey, anybody awake?”

We both froze and Roger’s cock bolted like cold steel in my ass just before he pulled it out.

“Ohh, Shit!  It’s Melanie’s Dad!” he gasped as he climbed off of me and rushed to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

I slipped on a pair of shorts and a robe on top of that to hide my hardon. I went to the top of the stairs just as my brother was about to come up.

“I was on my way back from Columbus, thought I’d stop in.”

“Yeah, great, I’ll make some coffee,” I said, trying to sound happy to see him as I went down the stairs.  I was, actually, I just didn’t know if I was rid of another kind of happiness that I didn’t want him to see on my face.

“That’s Roger’s car out front,” he said.

“Yeah, he’s been helping me, along with Hunter, with some projects around the house. He’s just getting out of the shower. We were doing some plaster work.” 

Roger came down a few minutes later in his jeans and a T-shirt.  We sat around the kitchen table and talked for a while and I sweated it out whether my brother had caught any clue about me and Roger. Apparently, he hadn’t. He was jovial when he left and he never made mention of anything to either of us after that.

“I gotta remember to lock the door,” I said.

“Yeah, that was close,” Roger agreed.

“Can we finish what we started?” he asked.

“Yeah.” And we went back upstairs to my room.

I went to visit my parents from time to time out of a sense of duty but I never stayed long.  It was better that way and we got along. They came to see me only when I invited them, which wasn’t often. I didn’t really want them to feel comfortable enough to just drop in. I visited Dunnsport, and Jason, on a regular basis.  It was where he was and it was where I went to find him whenever I got lonely for him.  I took a flag to his grave on Memorial Day and Veterans Day and on the anniversary date of his death. Other times I took a couple of beers, drank one and left the other one on his headstone.  On the anniversary of his death I took a six-pack, drank two and crushed the cans and left the rest unopened.  I went back one time just to check and found the other four cans empty on his headstone. I wondered if someone drank them or just poured them out. I was sure there were those who thought leaving beer on a headstone was disrespectful.  It wasn’t.  Sometimes I talked to him, other times I sat and sipped my beer and stared at his grave and let the memories of our times together flood my mind. Sometimes I still cried. 

“You didn’t know it, but you were my hero,” I told him one time. “I’ve got your football; I sleep with it,” I told him another time. Always, I told him I loved him.

I visited his parents once. They welcomed me warmly and seemed to appreciate that I’d come, but I sensed something in them that made me feel uncomfortable; I thought perhaps they resented that I was alive and their son was dead. I never visited them again at their home, but gave them my address and phone number if they ever needed me.

One Saturday evening I was washing up three days worth of dishes that I’d let soak when the phone rang. It was Roger.

“Roger. What’s up?” I asked.

“A lot of shit floating around in my head.”  

I wondered, did I take this boy to raise?  But I greeted him warmly.  “We can’t have that handsome head of yours full of shit. Nothing serious, I hope. You’re not in trouble are you? Melanie’s not in trouble.”

“No, nothing like that. Just stuff. I need to talk to you if you’ve got time.  Hunter said you’re a great guy to talk to and help sort things out.”

“Sure, any time,” I said.

“When?” he asked. He sounded strangely urgent.

“Any time.”

“How about now?” he asked.

“All right, as soon as you can get here,” I said.

“Actually, I’m at the gas station at the turnoff,” he said.

“Okay. I’ll set us out a couple of cold ones,” I said.

I slipped on a T-shirt--I didn’t know why--and got two beers out of the fridge. I went out on the porch and let the screen door close easy behind me and set the beers on the small table between the two rockers.  A few minutes later he came driving up the lane. When he got out of the car he had an expression on his face that I’d never seen before, and his stride as he came up on the porch was determined; he was a man on a mission.  I twisted the cap off one of the beers and handed it to him as he sat down.

“What’s up?” I asked after a moment.

“So much shit,” he said. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Start at the beginning, all the rest will follow,” I said.

“I’m not even sure when the beginning is.  Goes clear back to grade school, I guess,” he said. “Nothing of my doing but I had a natural gift for athletics.  I was the proverbial natural-born jock. My Dad even jokes that I wore jockstraps instead of diapers.  College was never discussed, it was a given. I was scouted by several colleges, so you know I’m on a football scholarship.  But college was really my parents’ idea.  Like I said, we never really talked about it for them to find out what I wanted.  Now, I’m having second thoughts. I’ve been thinking about going into the military.  The Marines, specifically. Hunter said you were a Marine.”  He laughed, still without looking around. “Only thing is, I don’t know if I could make it.”

It was my turn to laugh. “You gotta be kidding. You and the Marines could be made for each other,” I said.

“I don’t mean the physical part, or even the mental,” he said, but he didn’t say what the problem was.

“What part then,” I asked.

“I don’t know….the psychological….” He paused and looked at me. “What’s been happening between you and me…..well, it’s like a veil has been drawn back from a big mirror and I’m all of a sudden seeing myself for who I really am.  And as a result of that, I….well, I don’t know if I could handle being around all those other Marines….I don’t know if….I mean, I..…”  He let his voice trail off.  “Bottom line is, I’m sort of having doubts about which side of the fence I wanta be on.  I don’t know if I’m straight or gay or somewhere in between,” he said.

“Let’s try to put things in perspective, Roger.  You’re a horny, twenty-some-year-old with enough hormones to explode a bomb. Having sex with another guy doesn’t mean you’re gay or bi.  Hell, it’s sex; your cock doesn’t give a damn where you put it.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, I guess that’s true but up till now, sex with Melanie was God aplenty. But there’s just stuff…..”  He stopped again.

“What kind of stuff?” I asked, thinking he might have experimented around with some other guy, maybe on one of his buddies and he was having remorse.

“Well….you, for example.”  He glanced down then looked at me again.  “You seem to really like giving head; it’s like you enjoy it as much as I like getting it, and I’m the one on the receiving end.”

“It’s up for grabs, who gets the most out of it,” I said.

“Well, it makes me wonder. And you really go ape when I fuck you.  Even I know it hurts at first, and I wonder what you can be getting out of it, except making it good for me.”

“That is part of what I get out of it,” I said.  “There’s more to it of course--a lot more--but that’s part of it. You sorta go ape yourself when you fuck me.”

He was quiet for a moment, sipping his beer.

“So, what’s this stuff that’s bothering you?” I asked. “You’re dancing around it, Roger, whatever it is that you really came to talk about.”

“Well, like I said, I’ve got my eye on the Marines, but I think I need to learn more about myself….my feelings….before I sign on the dotted line and get myself into a situation I won’t be able to handle.” 

“You definitely need to think it over before you sign on the dotted line, but what do you hope to learn?  What, exactly are you looking for?”

“You said none of it makes me gay or bi, but I’ve been on the receiving end….you know what I mean?”

I laughed. “If you wanta find out what it’s like to have a cock in your mouth, the way you’re built, you could probably find out on yourself. I don’t think you mean you wanta try getting fucked.”

He glanced around with a sheepish look. 

I raised an eyebrow, surprised.  “You’ve had those thoughts too?” I asked.

“I’m curious about what you get out of it,” he admitted.

“None of those thoughts or feelings makes you gay. They make you curious, and that’s pretty normal.”

“I think I might be too curious,” he said.  “Can I have another beer?”

“Sure.  But don’t count on driving any too soon,” I said.  I got us both another beer.  The way he downed nearly half of it, I was sure he was chugging his courage. He didn’t say anything for a moment.

“You were saying you’re too curious?” I prodded him.

“What we’ve been doing, it’s all new to me. But the curiosity has been there all along, I know that now. Little things, like I’ll take the urinal next to a certain guy, hoping I can get a look at him.  In the locker room, I’ve always had to force myself to not look at guys too openly.  And when a new guy comes on the team, I can’t want to get a look at him undressing or in the showers.  What I really want to ask is, when did you start to understand your feelings?” he asked.

“Completely and fully? It wasn’t till after I joined the Marines,” I said.  “Maybe I still haven’t fully come to grips with them yet.  I don’t know if I’m gay or Bi, and I don’t really give a shit.  What’s in a label anyway?  I still like women. A good-looking woman turns my head as quick as a good-looking stud.  I can get just as turned on with my face buried in some chick’s pussy as with a cock in my mouth.”  It was sort of a lie but a necessary one I thought.” I play both sides of the fence, but I admit I spend a lot more time in the pasture with the stallions than with the mares.”

“Sounds like you’re Bi, then,” he said.

“Well, you can’t judge or try to gauge yourself by me, that could really get you screwed up,” I said.

“You don’t think if I tried it, that it would help me decide?”

“Being gay isn’t something you decide, it’s something you are.  Or aren’t,” I told him.

“Okay, help me find out then, discover which it is.  I gotta  know to help me decide about going into the Marines.”

I rocked out of my chair and stood up. “Wait right here,” I said.  It was a spur of the moment decision and I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, but I went upstairs and got two things

that I thought would help set the boy’s mind straight. When I came back to the porch, he’d gotten us two fresh beers.

“I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need this,” he said, uncapping his.

“You know more about me than anybody in my family. I want to keep it that way, because I’m going to let you in on some of my life’s darkest secrets. I told you I discovered my true feelings, or faced them, after I joined the Marines. Actually, it was in Vietnam that those feelings jumped out and hit me in the face, when I met this guy. This may sound perverted to you, but he is the only person I ever loved. I brought him home from that hell hole and buried him under a bronze military marker in the cemetery over in Dunnsport.  He was a Navy SEAL. The toughest, bravest man I ever knew. He died before he was old enough to buy a beer.  The football that sits on my bed was his. His parents gave it to me. This choker necklace was his,” I said, fingering the necklace around my neck.

“That’s him in the pictures I saw hanging in your bedroom?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“If I was so inclined, I don’t blame you. He looks like a total stud.”

“I still die a little bit every night when I go to bed and lie there and look at him. His athletic jacket hanging in my closet; fucker’s weighted down with medals and awards.” I opened the blue velvet box I’d bought especially to hold the treasures and took them out as I spoke. “I’ve got his combat medals, a pair of his athletic shorts, a pair of briefs….I’ve even got the jockstrap he wore all through high school and all the time we were over there. It’s ragged and tattered, I sleep in it sometimes, and his Navy SEAL T-shirt. Those things are what hold him to me. They’re all I’ve got.”

Roger had everything in his hands now and was gazing down at them.  I handed the box over to him to put them back in it.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot more than that, like a lot of great memories,” he said.

“It’s all I’ve got to hold onto, or lay my hands on,” I said, making a swipe at a tear. Roger saw me.

“Looks like you really loved him. I don’t think that’s perverted,” he said. “I’ve got a buddy….a teammate….I sort of feel that way about. I would go through anything for him.”

“That’s how you know, deep down, for certain,” I said.  “If you ever feel that for another guy, then you know.  But I think you feel it too strongly for my niece.” 

He glanced away and took a quick swig of beer and handed the blue box back to me. “That’s some great stuff there,” he said. “And I don’t think it’s the least bit perverted,” he said again. “I think it’s great that anybody can feel that for another person, man or woman.”

I picked up the other box. “I’ve got something here that might help you make up your mind about a couple of other things,” I said as I took the lid off. I handed it to him, almost smiling at the surprised look on his face.

“Dildos?” he asked, his surprise turning to bewilderment.

“Yeah, I won them as a prize at a party one time, as a gag gift,” I lied.

“Must’ve been a hell of a party,” he said.

“Try those on for size; get some practice if you want, that’ll let you find out if you get anything out of it. Better start out with the small one.”

He picked it up and hefted it in his hand. “Feels real,” he said.

“It’s molded after the real thing,” I said.

“I don’t know where I would keep these,” he said.

“Do you want to spend the night?”

“I was hoping you might ask.”

“Try ‘em tonight,” I said. “That’ll satisfy your curiosity and you won’t feel like damaged goods like you might if you took the real thing and decided you didn’t like it.”

He picked up the bigger one, the nine-incher.  “Shit, I don’t know about this one,” he said, hefting its weight. “Hell, I don’t know about the other one. Geezuss, I don’t know how you take me.”

“Well, it sounds like they’re already helping you decide,” I said with a smile.

Roger wanted to hear about Jason and me.  I opened up and told him of some of the wonderful times Jason and I had together, right down to the intimate details. He reached over and picked up the blue box and went through the stuff again as I talked.

“You guys had some great times together,” he said. He had left the dildo box open and I saw him glance at them from time to time.

Dusk was upon us and we went inside to make supper. Roger chowed down while he kept pumping me about Jason. It felt good to talk about him, and I appreciated that I had someone I could open up to about him. We watched a little TV then went to bed.  I picked up the treasure box.

“Don’t forget your toys,” I told him. I sort of guided him into the guest room instead of my own bedroom. He looked at me sort of disappointed.

“You’ve got some experimenting to do, on your own,” I said with a grin.  “Be sure to check out the back of the toilette tank.  It’s important,” I said.  I had set a Fleet there for him to use.

He shrugged and went in his room. I took him some lube and towels. “They make stuff to deaden the pain but you need to feel it for real,” I said.

“I’ll be okay,” he said.

I went into my room across the hall. I thought it odd that Roger closed his door. I left mine open. Perhaps he was embarrassed. Later I heard the toilette flush.  I read for quite a while then lay and gazed up at Jason’s pictures.  It was my way of communicating with him before I went to sleep. The pictures brought warm feelings over me, I think partly because I had now shared him with someone else. His GI Joe stood guard from his perch on my dresser and his football lay within easy reach.

I thought of Melanie, and wondered what she would think if she knew her stud boyfriend was spending the night.  I was about to turn off the lamp when Roger appeared at my door, with the towel over his arm and holding the dildos, a towel and the tube of lubricant.

“I was wondering if I might… well, stay in here for a little while,” he said.

“If I said no, it’d probably be the first time you got kicked out of bed,” I joked as I moved over to make room for him.

“I tried this one,” he said, holding up the smaller dildo. “Actually, I didn’t get it all the way in.”

“Well, then, maybe you’ve got your answer,” I said.

“No, I wanta try it all the way, and the other one. I thought you might help me out, show me what I’m doing wrong.”

“I can,” I said.  I took the towel from his arm and laid it between us and he laid the dildos on it.  He lay down beside me, on his stomach. I lubed up the small dildo and set the head between his taut buns.

“Relax ‘em,” I said.

He let them relax and I twisted and worked the rubber cock between them and prodded at his hole with the head.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yeah. I know it’s gonna hurt, but that’s okay. Give it all to me, even if I yell out.”

He didn’t yell, but he gasped and jerked his head back when I penetrated his hole.

“Squeeze hard on it,” I said.

I waited a moment then began shoving it in him, slowly, with a gentle, back-and-forth twisting motion.  I slowly bore deeper and deeper while his shoulder muscles tightened and his triceps bulged.

“Fuck!” he gasped as I shoved it in the final inch and twisted the rubber balls hard into his butt muscles.

“Let me know when you want to call it off,” I said.

“No, I’m not calling it off, not till I find out.”

“Calling it off would be finding out,” I said.

“No, calling it off would be chickening out and still having doubts.”

I couldn’t believe the guy could be so determined to find out if he was gay or straight, and I couldn’t help thinking this was a dumb way to find out, even though I’d given him the dildos.

When I felt his sphincter muscle begin to relax around the girth of the dildo, I withdrew several inches then shoved it back in. He gasped again and laid his head back, but without any  grimace of pain. I began fucking him with it and he gradually began to relax and spread his legs out wider and hump his butt up to meet my prodding. I concentrated on finding his prostate. It was a mean thing to do; the little love nut could trick anybody into thinking they’re gay. I found it, and he let out a little yowl and rose up on his hands and knees.

“Damn! What was that? I never touched that spot when I was doing it.”    

“Your prostate. Your love nut. The nerve center of your sexuality.”

“I didn’t even know I had a love nut,” he said.  
“Now you know. But it’s deceiving; don’t let it make up your mind for you,” I cautioned him. I fucked him with the smaller dildo for twenty minutes or so while he fought from jacking off.

“Ready to try the other one?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

I pulled the smaller dildo out and lubed up the larger one. “This is going to be easier since you’re stretched out, but it might not be a piece of cake,” I warned.  
“That’s okay, I’ll handle it,” he said bravely, jutting his butt back to me.

I plugged his hole with the larger head and pushed it through.  He tossed his head back again but his gasp was stifled. I worked all nine inches up inside him, using the same gentle twisting motion. He winced once when I must’ve hit something but he worked around it himself and bore back on the dildo.  I shoved it all the way in.

“Goddamnn!” he swore. “That is a cock!”

“No, it’s a dildo. A toy,” I corrected him.

“Well, it must be what a cock feels like,” he said.

I wanted to tell him a cock feels a lot better. I managed to purposely touch his prostate with every move. He was grinding his butt back on it and twisting his hips around and humping his cock through his fist.

“Ohh, Godd, Uncle Brad, this is feeling so good! I’m getting a pretty good idea what you get out of it now,” he moaned. 

I let him moan and groan and hump his fist and ram back onto the dildo.  I wanted him to feel it, so he would know the full pleasure of male sex and still know that he was straight as fuck.

“Ohhh… ohhhh, fuck… ohhh, Godd, Brad, it’s sooo good!  Ohhh, yeah, fuck me with it!  Oh, Shit, I never felt anything like this in my life!  It’s almost as good as fucking you!” He humped in silence for a few minutes then looked over his shoulder at me, eyes fluttering, like he was on something.

“Brad, I….I think I wanta try the real thing,” he said, his voice almost pleading.  “Would you fuck me? Show me what it really feels like.… the real thing.  Please? Fuck me, Uncle Brad, just this once. That’ll make me know for sure, having an actual cock inside me.”

“Roger, this is a dildo--a toy--getting fucked by a real live cock… well, with your doubts, I don’t want you to get all fucked up in the head over that.”

“I won’t.  If I don’t like it I’ll tell you to stop and I won’t ever do it again. Please!  I wanta feel your cock rubbing my love nut. Just show me what it’s like!  Just this once,” he begged.

I pulled the dildo out and moved up on my haunches behind him, my cock aimed and ready. I was already hard and his well-lubed asshole gaped open, the sphincter clenching, the inner muscles palpitating with anticipation. I wouldn’t hurt him; I wasn’t any bigger than the dildo. All I would do was make him feel what he wanted to feel.  I entered him with one strong thrust and ground my pubes hard against his butt, fucking him in short jabs, my balls smacking against him.

He choked on his outcries.  He wasn’t going to last long, and I didn’t want him to, as much as I wanted to fuck him all night.

“Gonna…. Come!” he choked, his right arm bulging as he jacked himself furiously. “AAAwwwwggghhhhhhhh!” he cried out like an animal and I knew he was losing it. His ass clenched hard around my cock. I kept fucking him, rubbing against his prostate, trying to work up my own climax. I felt a dozen or more tight contractions from the powerful spurts of semen he shot out on the bed. He was ebbing down when I gave him mine. I slammed into him harder than I intended, causing him to groan aloud, and deposited my own semen deep inside him.

“UUUhhnnnn,” he moaned. He must have felt it shooting in him.

The next moments were a blur for me. I clung to his hips to keep from floating off till he collapsed under me. I collapsed on top of him, our sweat intermingling. We were quiet for a long time except for our labored breathing.

“Geezusss!  Fuck!! What happened?” he asked.

Thinking I might be getting heavy, I rolled us over, keeping my arm locked around his tight waist so we would stay connected.  My cock felt too good inside him to pull out, and besides, I wanted him to ponder it.

“Geezusss, I soaked the bed,” he said.

We were both breathless, unable to talk. I didn’t want to talk; I wanted him to be in his own thoughts and sort them out now. We dozed off and woke up in the same position. He came awake first and woke me up as he was trying to work away from me, extracting my cock from his ass. I pulled back and it fell free and heavy. Roger got up and went to the bathroom. I heard nothing for a long moment then heard the shower turn on. He took a long time in the shower. Too long. I got up and went to check on him.

“You okay in there?” I asked, tapping on the door.

“Yeah,” he replied, rather short.

I went in the bathroom; I wasn’t so sure he was okay. I hoped I hadn’t fucked him up in the head. I was sitting on the stool when he opened the shower curtain. He looked at me with a weak, cute smile.

“One down, one to go,” he said.

“What?” I handed him a towel.

“I know what it feels like to get fucked, now I gotta find out what it feels like to have a cock in my mouth.  I tried doing myself like you said, but couldn’t get in the position.” He didn’t finish drying off.  Instead he draped the towel over his shoulder and started to go to his knees in front of me.  I stopped him with my hands cupped under his arms.

“Not here, not this way,” I said. “Let’s go in on the bed.”

“Hey, maybe we can sixty nine?” he asked as he stretched out on his back.

“No, that wouldn’t be a true test,” I said. 

By the time Roger left the next day he had all the experience he needed under his belt. I would not know for a long time after whether I had done him more harm than good.

To be continued...  

Posted: 02/20/15 rp