A Marine Called Jason
(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2007-2012 by the Author)
 

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

Chapter 55
Can I Get A Hardon 

Mitch, my therapist, was a total hunk, with muscles layered on top of muscles.  I’d seen him pick patients up in his arms and lift them off the bed with ease. Too bad he never had to lift me. I was more than pleased with the progress I was making in physical therapy. I was even bugging Mitch about when I could start some real exercise, like lifting weights.  He liked that I was impatient, but told me that I was rushing things.  At least I had advanced from my bed to the physical therapy department.

“Can I ask you a question?” I said at one of our sessions.

“Yes, but first, I have one for you. Where is your gown?”

“I threw it away,” I said “I asked somebody to bring me these shorts.”

“I don’t blame you.  Now what was your question?”

“Can I get a hardon?”

He didn’t even blink. “Won’t bother me any.  Do you feel one coming on?” he asked.

“No. That wasn’t the question,” I said. “Can I get a hardon?”

“Oh. Can you. Well, that’s outside my area of expertise….sort of.  Who’s your doctor?”

“Dr. Barnes.  Dr. Bernake is my shrink,” I said.

“I’ll have Dr. Barnes paged. If he’s still on the floor, I’m sure he’ll answer your questions,” he said. When he had called for Dr. Barnes, he went back to working on my thighs.  “Your muscle tone is remarkable for being inactive for so long,” he said.

“I was in pretty good shape before,” I said.

“Yes, that’s obvious.  It makes my job easier,” he said.

“I feel soft. I could have even better muscle tone if you would let me start lifting weights,” I said.

“You’re not ready.  Be patient,” he said.

“If I’m ready in my head, my body will follow my orders,” I said.

He gave me a blank stare. “Would you like to venture a guess who they’re paying to get you back in shape?” he asked with some sarcasm.

Just then Nurse Joe came in to take my vitals.

“Maybe Joe can answer your question,” Mitch said.

“What’s up?” Joe asked.

“Go ahead, ask him,” he said.

“I want to know.….can I get a hardon?” I asked.

“You haven’t experienced an erection since you woke up?”

“No.”

“Well, there was certainly plenty of activity while you were asleep,” Joe said.

“Oh, really?” I was surprised.

“Yes.  You shouldn’t be surprised at that.  You weren’t exactly in a vegetative state.  You were asleep. It would be no different from having wet dreams when you were a kid.”

“So did I, uh….have….wet dreams?” I asked.

Just then Dr. Barnes walked in. “Who’s having wet dreams?”

“Courter is concerned about his virility.”

“And what concern is that?” Dr. Barnes asked.

“I haven’t had a hardon since I came out of the coma.  I used to wake up every morning with one.”

You were a normal, healthy young man at the time of the accident, there’s no medical reason why you should not be able to attain an erection.”

“That was no accident, Doc,” I said. “It was an attack. I remember that much.”

“Yes.  I apologize for sounding as if I were minimizing it,” he said. “But, son, if you have any qualms about your condition, I suggest you find out for yourself.  I’m sure you haven’t forgotten how, but you’ve had other things on your mind. You’ve been back with us for such a short period of time, however, I would want you to remain on the monitor.  And Joe, I would like you to attach a note of your observations that I can place in his file.”

“Observations?” I asked, with a scowl.

“He will need to keep an eye on the monitor,” Dr. Barnes said. “I would, but I have patients waiting.” 

It slowly soaked in that the good doctor was suggesting that I jack off, while Nurse Joe watched.  Joe was closing the door.  He saw me glance at Mitch. 

“Don’t be embarrassed; he is your therapist,” Joe said.   “Consider it part of your physical therapy.”

“Am I understanding this correctly?  Did the doctor just tell me to jack off?” I asked. Despite how I felt about the big hunk, and Mitch, I was a little embarrassed to jack off in front of them.

“Yes, he did,” Mitch said, handing me a towel. “You can get started if you like, if it won’t embarrass you if I finish up with your legs while you do it.  Or you can wait till I’m done.”

“No, I got no problem with it.”

Nurse Joe was hooking me up to the  monitor.

“You’re not going to make notes in my file that I…..”

“It will be in such clinical terms that the average layman would have to read it twice to figure it out,” Joe said. “And anyone else will just smile,” he added.  “Okay….I’ll pretend not to look,” he said.

“It’s going to be pretty hard for me not to look when I’m working on your legs,” Mitch said.

“You don’t have to pretend anything, neither of you.  I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t done yourself,” I said as I started squeezing the front of my shorts. They filled out pretty fast, much to my great relief, and I noticed that Mitch couldn’t help noticing. I can’t begin to describe the great sense of happy relief when I felt my cock start to rise to the occasion.  I think it was as happy as I was, and anxious to prove that it could still do the job.  After a moment, when Joe was fiddling with the monitor, I shoved my hand down inside my shorts and hefted everything out, tucking the waistband of my briefs under my balls. Then I pulled my shorts up to cover it; the door had come open.

“Uhh….shouldn’t we close the door?” I said.

“If you insist,” he said, laughing.

“Well, anyone walking by isn’t going to believe this is physical therapy,” I said.  “And I still don’t understand the reason for the  monitor.”

“Well, to put it in simple terms, your body isn’t used to the trauma.”

“Trauma? Since when is jacking off a trauma?” I asked.

“Since your body has been in a state where it hasn’t had to react to the simplest thing, like moving your fingers.” 

Mitch closed the door and I began pulling on my cock. Godd, it felt good. It was standing tall and proud out of my fist when he turned around.

“Damn!  How big is that thing?” he blurted.

“It was over nine inches,” I said.

“I don’t think it shrunk any,” he said.  “Geezuss, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cock that big.”

“Let’s just hope everything works as well as it looks. Okay if I start?” I asked, nodding to Nurse Joe and the monitor.

He laughed. “And if I said no, would you wait ten minutes till I’m through here?”

I ignored him and started jacking my cock slowly. I was surprised that I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about it.

“It’s all right if I enjoy this, isn’t it?” I asked at one point. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be purely clinical therapy, does it?”

“That’s the whole point of doing it, isn’t it?” Mitch said as he began disconnecting the electrodes and removing them from my legs. He laid them aside then began massaging my thigh muscles with his fingers.

“Ohh, that feels good,” I said.

“And you’re not talking about my hands, are you,” Mitch joked.

“That, too,” I said, laughing. I moved the towel he’d given me higher up across my chest.

“Oh, you’re a shooter, huh?” he remarked.

“I was,” I said.

“I hope you’re not disappointed,” he said. “If you don’t get the power and distance you want, there are exercises you can do for that, too.”

“Oh, really?  I never heard of exercises to improve your cum-thrust and distance.”

“Yes.  They’re called Kegels,” he said.

“Tell me about ‘em, maybe I’ll start doing them anyway, just to improve performance,” I said.

“It’s really not a bad idea to get in the habit,” he said. “There are several methods. One is to be sitting on the toilette with a full bladder and when you start to piss, you clamp down and stop the flow. Do it several times.  If you can’t cut off the flow of urine, you definitely need to do the exercise.  It wouldn’t hurt to make it a practice every time you take a piss.  But you can do the exercise any time, any place.  A good idea is to do them every time you stop at a red light.  Before long, seeing a red light will remind you to do them.  Doing them will generally increase the intensity of your ejaculations and erections, although it doesn’t look like you need any improvement in the latter.  It will also help you hold off longer.  It’s recommended that you do about two hundred a day.  But if you set a pattern, like when you take a piss, or stop at a red light, you won’t need to keep count.”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that,” I said.

Nurse Joe’s smile turned into a chuckle.  “Trust me, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about your cum-thrust and distance.”

“Yeah, you said there was some activity while I was asleep.”

“Activity on the scale of volcanic eruptions,” he said.

“Oh?”

“All systems were go,” he said.  “Ask the other nurses how often they changed your gowns.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Damn, I just noticed, your hand doesn’t fit all the way around that thing,” Mitch said.

“Nope.  Haven’t been able to touch my thumb and finger around it since I was about seventeen.”

“I’ll bet you were the darling of the locker room,” he said.

“Well, I don’t know about darling,” I said. “But I was one of the biggest guys in the locker room.”

Mitch’s big hands were working higher on my thighs, relaxing the muscles after the tingling caused by the electrodes.  His thumbs moved further into my crotch till they were touching my balls as my own fist lifted them up and down with each stroke of my cock.

“Since you’re my physical therapist, shouldn’t you be doing this for me?” I said jokingly.

“You don’t need my help with things you remember how to do,” he said.

“Whew, this isn’t going to take long,” I said softly. “Not nearly as long as I think I remember. And fuck, it feels good.”

I noticed Nurse Joe was watching my fist moving up and down on my cock instead of the monitor, and I was sort of getting off on him watching.

“Getting close?” he asked.

“Oh, Yesss!” I hissed, pressing my head back in the pillow. “Ohhh….Oh, man, it feels like….I’m gonna turn….inside out…. Ohhh….Ohhh, here it comes!” As I held the towel up as a shield I realized that Mitch was assisting me; he had my balls in his hand, holding them up so my fist was pounding against them. My legs began to tremble and my stomach tightened like a drumhead. Suddenly, I let loose.  The stuff shot out of my cock like a white-hot rocket, in a long, thick rope that I didn’t think was ever going to detach itself, and then sailed over my head to splatter loudly against a cabinet door behind me.

“Holy Shit!” Mitch exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“Geezuss!” Nurse Joe whispered.

The second and third salvos shot out over my head and shoulder before I could adjust my trajectory downward and bring the towel up to catch the stuff.  I was shooting with such force that my butt was lifting up off the table, my body arched and jolted with each spasm of my cock.

“My Godd!”  Mitch gasped again.

“Ohh, Geezusss,” I moaned. “Ohh, Godd….it’s so good….So fuckin’ good,” I whimpered. I had no idea how many times I shot, but my climax seemed to go on forever.  I shot so hard my asshole hurt and there was a dull ache in my prostate.  By the time the stuff was only streaking up across my stomach and chest, even my arm was tired, and I never remembered that happening before. It was so incredibly intense that I had to force my body down from its stiffly arched position, pressing my butt hard against the table.  Cum continued to come out in smaller spurts, landing on my stomach, then it boiled out and cascaded down over the head of my cock and my fingers.

“Holy shit, man, you don’t need Kegels,” Mitch said.  “Damn, that was like watching a stallion!”

I was exhausted, my chest heaving to catch my breath.

“I think I must’ve been….saving that up….for a while,” I gasped.

“Did you count those?” Mitch asked Nurse Joe.

“Yes. Sixteen!” he said.

“You fired off sixteen fuckin’ loads!” Mitch exclaimed. “And that’s not counting the short spurts at the end and all that boiled out at the last.  Damn, you really drained the tanks.”

“Whew!  I feel it.  I ache inside,” I said. “What’d the monitor say?”

“The monitor went off the charts,” Joe said.

“I think I made a mess.  If you’ll get me some paper towels I’ll clean it up,” I said as I tried to sit up.  I winced from the soreness in my gut.

“No, you stay right there till the monitor settles down. I’ll clean it up,” Joe said.

“But you shouldn’t have to……”

“I don’t mind.  Considering your condition, it’s a beautiful mess,” he said. “I think you’re well on the way back to normal.  I’ll see that Dr. Barnes gets these results. He’s going to be very happy.”

I thought it was an odd thing for him to say, that it was a beautiful mess; as strange as Mitch and the way he had massaged my thighs while I was jacking off, and holding my balls in his hand.

Joe was wetting some paper towels to clean the cum off of me. Mitch took one and said, “I can do this. Go ahead and report your results to Dr. Barnes.” 

When Nurse Joe was gone and Mitch was wiping up the cum, I was prompted to ask, “Could I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“When I asked if I could get a hardon, you, uh….said my question was sort of out of the realm of your expertise.”

“I should have said professional expertise,” he said.  “But it was, shall we say, well within my realm of personal expertise.”

“Oh. Then that….that’s why….I mean, you were….”

“Yes, that’s why I don’t mind cleaning up your mess, stud,” he said as he carefully lifted the towel from my chest.  “Damnn!” he swore as he folded the towel over the big pool of cum that was soaking up in it.  He tossed it in a metal bin then took paper towels and cleaned the stuff off the cabinet.  He wet some paper towels and wiped the cum off of my chest and neck and stomach then lifted my cock to clean it off.  But instead of using the paper towel, he glanced toward the door and shoved the chair against it then leaned down and took my cock in his mouth and sucked it all the way down his throat!

“Uuhnnnnn!” I groaned with surprise as he sucked and milked my cock with his throat. “Ohh, Goddd!” It only lasted a few seconds but it was the most wonderful few seconds I’d had since I came back.

“That should answer all of your questions,” he said with a sly grin. “Damn, dude, you just shot off another minor load in my mouth,” he said, smiling, as he tucked everything back inside my shorts.  Then he pulled the chair up and sat down with my chart and began writing.

“Fuck, Mitch, you are full of surprises.”

He just smiled.

“How’re you going to write that?” I asked.

“I simply record my observations,” he said.

“But how, I mean.”

He didn’t reply; he just kept writing. When he was finished he laid my chart aside and started to help me up to take me back to my room.

“What’d you write?” I asked.

He picked up the chart and read, “The patient displayed no impairment in his ability to get an erection of incredible size, he recalled without difficulty how to jack off, and experienced an ejaculation of sixteen shots of thick semen, of such force that it landed against the cabinet door some seven feet away.”

“No way!  You didn’t write that!” I said, reaching for the chart, but he jerked it away.

“Sorry, I can’t let you read your chart; you’ll have to ask Dr. Barnes to go over it with you.”

“You guys are assholes,” I complained.  Then I asked, “Did I make that big a mess when I had those wet dreams?”

“No. You weren’t bone hard.”

As he was wheeling me back to my room, I was still feeling the tingling effects between my legs and in my asshole from the tremendous come I’d just had, and remembering how Mitch’s mouth felt on my cock for those few seconds.

“Listen, Mitch, those few seconds of heaven back there, when you were cleaning me up….any chance that could happen again?” I asked.

“Every chance in the world,” he said.

“Any ideas on how, when or where?” I asked.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said.

He got me back in bed and was about to leave when he noticed me rubbing my arm, up around the tricep.

“Are you having a problem with your arm?” he asked with concern.

I laughed.  “Only that I’m not accustomed to that kind of one-arm exercise,” I said.

He laughed. “And you wanted to start lifting weights. Just use both hands next time.”

My therapy was moved from my room to the therapy room, to a special corner of the gym where Mitch finally let me start lifting light weights, but under his supervision as a form of therapy, not serious working out.

I told him I wanted to use the shower at the gym instead of the one back in my room. 

“All right, but only with assistance,” he said.

“What, you think I can’t lift a bar of soap?”

“Rules,” he said.

The next day after I was finished working out I asked Mitch if he might stand by while I took a shower there.

“Not stand by,” he said.  “Someone has to be in the shower with you.”

“Are you going to wash my back?” I asked sarcastically.

Just then Joe walked in with a rolled up towel in his hand.  “Not me, I’ve got another patient to see, There’s your shower buddy,” Mitch said.

“Oh.”  Fuck! I was going to be showering with Big Joe!

“Are you done pumping iron?” Joe asked cheerfully.

“He’s done.  He’s all yours,” Mitch said.

I thought, don’t say that unless you mean it.  We went back to the shower.  It wasn’t a full scale gym and the shower was small, to accommodate only two or three people. Joe started taking off his clothes.  I did the same.

“I appreciate you doing this,” I said.

“Mitch said you threatened to kick his ass if he didn’t let you shower here,” he said.

It was a pleasure watching Joe undress, and all the while I was wondering if the shower might be even more pleasurable. I wondered if I would get a hardon, being in the shower with him.  Part of me hoped so.  I had on only my workout  shorts and T-shirt so I was naked first.  I started to go in the shower.

“Whoa. You can’t go in there by yourself,” Joe said.

“I know, rules,” I said. 

It would be fair to say that Joe had a killer body.  It was hard not to notice, so I noticed. He peeled down his shorts and a killer cock fell free.  I noticed that too, pretty openly.

“You ready?”

“Are you going to hold my hand?  Or wash my back?” I joked.  He just laughed.

The shower was uneventful except for the pleasure of watching Joe and his occasional hand on me when he thought I needed steadying.

“Mitch says you wanta go back to being a combat Marine,” Joe said as he soaped up his broad, hairy chest and stomach.

“Not back to it.  I wasn’t a combat Marine before, I was in intelligence.”

“Well, you’ve got my respect for wanting to do it,” he said.

“And you’ve got mine for what you do,” I said.  “It’s hard not to notice how you’re put together, and your size, the way you lift the patients.”

“Yeah, they call me and Mitch the lift trucks,” he said with a grin.

“Listen, was that really put on my charts….you know, about me jacking off?”

“In medical terms, yes.”

I wondered if Mitch had told him how he’d cleaned my cock with his mouth.

Badly as I wanted it to turn out otherwise, like I said, the shower was uneventful.  But I had my suspicions about Nurse Joe; his remark about it being a beautiful mess lingered.

I didn’t know any other way to work out except full force, and within a couple of weeks I had outgrown the weights Mitch was letting me use and I was begging him to let me use heavier weights. I got impatient with him.

“What is the problem?” I complained rather bitterly.  “You’re holding me back, dammit.  I know my way around the weight room. And I tell you what, I’m going to sneak down there when you’re not around, so you might as well just let me do it.”

“Let me talk to Dr. Barnes and Dr. Bernake,” he said.

“What the hell has Dr. Bernake got to do with it, he’s only concerned from my chin up.”

“Dr. Bernake is kept advised on all aspects of your care and progress,” Mitch said.

Both doctors signed off on it and I was allowed to start real workouts, without Mitch’s constant supervision.  And I was allowed to use the shower at the gym, without assistance but with close supervision. Since Mitch was my therapist I was under his supervision.  I loved the real workouts, especially having Mitch’s hands on my body when he assisted. Once I invited him into the shower with me but he declined.

“Not a good idea,” he said.

“What if I was to stagger or faint?”

“Don’t even try to fake it,” he said.

My appetite improved and I started putting on some weight. But Dr. Bernake wasn’t finished messing with my head.

My sessions with Dr. Bernake took place at various places on the hospital grounds.  Once I was instructed to go to a certain designated location where Dr. Bernake would be waiting.  I knew it was to see if I could find my way by the directions I was given, to a park bench at Memorial Fountain.  The good doctor stood up to shake my hand when I came up to him. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked as he sat back down, motioning for me to sit beside him.

“Is it okay if I sit on the ground?”

“Wherever you’re comfortable,” he said.

“I’m feeling really good,” I said as I sat in front of him with my knees cocked up.  “Mitch is letting me work out in the gym.”

“Yes, he says you are progressing quite well, physically.”  He smiled and glanced down at me.  “Quite well.”

“I bet I know what you’re reading,” I said, a little embarrassed.

“Well, it’s good to know that all systems are go,” he said.

“Back to my head, Doc.  You keep probing around and I wonder why is it so important that you know where I’ve been the last twenty six months?  I’ve been lying in a hospital bed. None of the rest of it is real.”

“And why do you keep fighting me? You’re still in the Marines. Do you want to go back to being a Marine?”

“Yes.”

“Then work with me,” he said.

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

“I want you to remember.”

I closed my eyes and tried to go back.  There were some things that kept flashing back, but I didn’t know which of my pasts they were coming from.

“And don’t make things up; I can spot that a mile away,” he added.

“I’ve got two pasts, Doc, one real and one not real. It’s hard to know which one I’m going back to.”

“That’s what we’re trying to sort out,” he said.  “I’m only trying to help you remember. You have to sort out which of your pasts those memories come from.”

“Well, I was living in a big house in the country, there was a woods and a creek. It was a beautiful place.” Dr. Bernake didn’t say anything. “Are you writing this down? Or don’t you believe me?” I asked.

“Yes, I believe you, and yes, I’m writing it down. Go on.”

“I was back in Vietnam…..”

“In which past were you there?”

“I….I don’t know.”

“Do you remember anything that happened there?” he asked when my voice trailed off.

“Not really. It’s pretty foggy,” I said.  He looked at me like he didn’t believe me. “You need to know, Doc, there are some things I might remember that I’m not going to tell you,” I said.

He didn’t say anything; just looked at me, waiting.

“There was this boy who came to live with me,” I went on. “This was when I lived in the big house in the country. I don’t know where he came from; he just needed a place to stay, and I had that big house to myself.”

He was flipping some pages, looking for something.

“In the moments when you were waking up, the staff reported you saying some things….there was a lot of excitement, and you weren’t completely coherent so it can’t be said with any certainty that they are exact quotes, but you apparently mentioned someone named Jase.  And or Jason.”

“Jason Seaborne,” I said.

“Yes, he’s been in touch with us.”

“Lately?”

“No, his contacts are intermittent.  Who is Jase?”

I thought for a moment, trying to remember.  “I don’t know,” I said.

“You called out for him to come back….send him back….I can’t reach you….don’t leave me….and then….Dad, don’t leave me….I love you, son. I have to wonder if you were somehow aware of your parents’ death, if perhaps it was mentioned in your presence and you somehow grasped it, subconsciously. Perhaps it was your father calling you son.”

“No. I….I was the dad,” I said with certainty that I didn’t understand.

“But you have no children,” he pointed out.

“No, but there was a boy. The boy I mentioned, who came to live with me.  I took him as my son.”

“Was the boy Jase?  Or Jason?” he asked.

“Not Jason,” I said. “The boy would have been Jase.”

"You're sure."

"Don't ask me if I'm sure.  I'm not sure of anything."

“I am very reluctant to mention this, but it could possibly hold a key to something we’re searching for.”  He paused.  “The individual reporting this is very certain that he heard these words.  Very certain because he was quite shocked.”

“What words?” I asked.

He read from his pad, “It was you, Jase.  It was you fucking me.”

I stared off, pretending I didn’t hear him. He sat quietly, waiting for me to respond.

“I don’t know what that means, or why I said it, if I did,” I said finally.

“Early on, you asked about someone named Jason Seaborne. You asked if we could make contact with him.  Turns out, he made regular contact with us, checking on you.  You got very emotional when you learned that.  Do you recall who he was?  Was he your combat buddy in Vietnam?”

“I remember him. Those memories have come back,” I said. “No, we weren’t combat buddies. He was a Navy SEAL.  But we knew each other; got pretty close.”

“Interesting that he was the first person you asked about, over any family members,” he pointed out. 

“Did I?” I didn’t remember that. 

“Are Jase and Jason perhaps the same person? Jase is a nickname, perhaps?” he asked.

I thought for a moment then stood up.  “Jason didn’t have a nickname,” I said.

“Then we haven’t established who Jase is,” he said.

“He’s not Jason, I know that.  They’re not the same person,” I said.

“You sound very certain about Jason, yet not so much about Jase, the boy.”

“I’m certain Jason didn’t have a nickname, and that Jase is not Jason. They’re not the same person, if Jase is a real person at all,” I said again. “It’s not all clear in my mind, Doc, but I think this is one of those things I’m not going to tell you about even if I do remember,” I said, leveling my gaze at him. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was keeping from him, but the names were somehow very personal to me.  I didn’t know if he took anything from that, but if he did, he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t write anything down.

We continued for a half hour or so as I paced around the bench where he sat.  Then he came back to Jason.

“Let’s go back to Jason Seaborne. You won’t talk about him.  Am I expected to take something from that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You’re the expert,” I said. “Look, I don’t know what purpose this serves. What exactly are we trying to accomplish? That I’m of sound mind? That I’m stable enough to be a combat Marine? I can’t figure out where we’re going with it.  And I’m finding myself trying to dig up answers that I think you want to hear. Frankly, I don’t think it’s going anywhere, or serving any purpose.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re getting tired of my company,” he joked.

“I am,” I said. “I just want to be let out of here and go back to doing what I do best.”

“You were in Intelligence. I am trying to determine that you are able to go back to doing what you apparently did very well; getting into other people's heads for information, much as I am trying to do yours.  But first we have to sort out your head.”

“Then it’s not serving any purpose. I’m not going back into Intel,” I said. “I’m going to be a combat Marine.”

“Oh. Have you told the Marines of your plans?” he asked with a little smirk.

“Doc, I’m going to stop trying so hard to remember shit, because when I do I don’t know if it’s from my real past or my time in a coma. You don’t seem to be able to determine that either, and I’m not going to spend the next twenty six months trying to separate the two.  I want to get on with my life, back to being a Marine.  I can sort things out as I go along, while I’m building a third past. If you think about it, I’m probably so fucked up in the head, you could keep me here for the rest of my enlistment, picking my brain and trying to sort things out that I don’t need sorted out. So why can’t you just sign off on me and declare me sane.”

He laughed. “There was never any doubt about your sanity,” he said.

“Then what are we doing here?”

“I do have to sign off on you, but we are here to help you, not so much for the Marines as for yourself.”

“The best thing you can do for me is to let me go back to being a Marine.  I don’t know how much I’m going to remember, or when, but I don’t see the point of trying to recall stuff from the past twenty-six months.  None of that was real. What purpose does it serve to interpret a dream?”

“You make a good point,” he said.  “But you’ve said you have trouble identifying between two pasts.”

“I just want to get on with my life, Doc, and right now I feel like I’m swimming in quicksand.”

He closed his writing pad and stood up. “Let’s walk,” he said. “If you think of anything you want to say, fine, but I won’t ask any more questions.”

“I found my way here to the fountain,” I said. “That was a test, to see if I could, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.  Did you ask directions?

"No,"

“Does that count for something? Is that in your notes?”

“Yes, and yes.”

We walked a ways in silence.

“I would like to ask one thing,” I said.

“Speak.”

“That part about Jase, or somebody, fucking me. I don’t know what that was all about, or if I actually said it, but like they said, I wasn’t coherent. I’m wondering if you can strike that from the records.”

“My files are strictly confidential,” he said.

“We both know nothing about a corporal is confidential, Doc,” I said. “You could be transferred and your files turned over to someone else.”

“That would not relieve my successor of the rules of confidentiality.”

“I don’t trust government confidentiality,” I said.

We were at the main building and I stopped at the door.  “We both know I’m going to be re-evaluated, both physically and psychologically, to see if I’m fit to remain in the Marines.  The file you have on me is going to be called into consideration in determining my fitness to be a Marine.  Those few words could bury me, and that’s not fair, because nobody even knows what they mean.  You know damn well somebody is going to read that and determine that I’m gay.”

“These notes have not been transcribed for entry into your official file,” he said thoughtfully.  He started to reach for the door but I put my hand against it.

“No. I’m not going to go forward with that doubt hanging over me.  You tell me on your honor that you’re not going to put that in my file.  If you don’t, I will go completely nutso and they will have to discharge me.”

He smiled through a frown.  “Well now, that wouldn’t look good on my record, having one of my patients going nutso on me,” he said.

“No, sir, it wouldn’t.”

He bit his lower lip. “I can’t be seen tearing a page out of my notes and giving it to you,” he said as he stepped over to a bench.  He sat down and unzipped his writing pad and flipped through several pages then began writing something.

“I am not writing anything of significance,” he said.  “But it will appear that I am, when I tear this page out and give it to you.”

He tore the page out and gave it to me; the page that had the damning words written on it. 

“Thank you.”

“I think you would be too fine a Marine to let go to waste,” he said.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

“I’m not worried about that. I know you won’t disappoint yourself,” he said.

After several more sessions I was released by Dr. Bernake and then Dr. Barnes held my life in his hands.   I got impatient with him.  He kept examining me and was always pleased with my progress.  He even watched me in the gym a couple of times.  Then I learned that he wouldn’t release me until Mitch did.  The next session, I asked Mitch about it. 

“I gotta ask you something.  You’ve said I’ve surpassed your expectations in my recovery efforts.  Is there any good reason you’re holding me back from being released?”  I thought it might be because he liked having me around, and I liked being around him, but we’d had only a couple of sexual encounters the whole time.

“Not anymore,” he said, smiling.

“What was the reason?” I asked.

“Waiting for you to bitch about it,” he said.  “But I am going to miss you.”

I was surprised when Dr. Bernake showed up with Dr. Barnes the day I was released from the hospital. They were both cordial in telling me goodbye. A captain came into my room as I was gathering up my stuff, to give me my leave papers and my orders.

“Seems not right to be getting leave, sir, after being half-assed AWOL for twenty six months,” I said.

“You’re weren’t AWOL. We knew right where you were,” he said. Then he put out his hand. “Good luck, Marine.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As he left, Nurse Joe came in.

“Hey, I was hoping you would pop in. I wanted to tell you good-bye,” I said.

“I’m more than just popping in. You can’t get out of here till I turn in your paperwork,” he said.

“Dr. Bernake released me and Dr. Barnes discharged me,” I said.

“That’s only verbal. They won’t let you out the front door till I turn in your discharge papers.”

“Sounds like you outrank everybody,” I said, laughing.

“I pretty much do,” he said.

“I would like to tell Mitch good-bye,” I said.

“That can be arranged,” he said with a tight grin. “In fact, it has been arranged.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take the elevator to the third floor, go to room 38-D.  Mitch will be there….to say goodbye.”

“Oh. All right, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.  When you come back I’ll take your papers down to the front desk and you can be on your way.”

“I wish I’d gotten to know you better during my stay,” I said. “I, uh….I enjoyed our showers together,” I said quietly. 

He laughed. “Room 38-D,” he said again. With that, he walked out of my room.  I stood there, bewildered.  I didn’t know if he was being rude or what. Maybe he just didn’t like goodbyes.

When he left I headed for the elevator.  On the third floor I went up and down several hallways looking for 38-D.  I finally found it at the end of a long hallway where the lights had apparently burned out, or they were simply turned off. I tried the door but it was locked.  I tapped on the door.  Seconds later it opened and Mitch peered through the crack.  I could see there wasn’t much light in the room either.

“Come in,” he whispered as he opened the door.

I wondered what was going on till I saw that he was stark naked!

“Geezuss, Mitch!” I blurted.

He put his fingers to his lips.  “Joe told me you were being discharged.  We wanted to tell you good-bye, and give you a proper sendoff.”

“We?”

“Yes, he’ll be up in a minute.”

“Fuck, Mitch, what….w-whats going on?”

“Get out of those clothes and I’ll start explaining while we wait on Joe.”  He tugged my shirt out of my pants and loosened my tie with his other hand.

“Joe?” I said, still bewildered. 

 “It would shock the socks off of everybody, but Joe and I have been lovers since he was first assigned here, about a year ago.  He was so excited when he was assigned to your case.  Man, we have drooled over you!” he said, laughing.  “He’s even called me in to witness your hardons when you were asleep.  But no, we didn’t take advantage of you. That would’ve been a gross breach of ethics. But now that you are awake and healthy….well, Marine, prepare to be taken advantage of.” All the time he was talking, he was taking my clothes off of me.  I was down to my shorts and T-shirt when there was a light knock at the door. It was Joe.

“Looks like I got here just in time,” he said, eyeing me and Mitch.  Right away, he started taking off his clothes.

“Joe?” I said, again, laughing.

“He can’t believe it about you,” Mitch told him.

“There was no way I was going to let you leave without saying a proper good-bye, not after all the frustration you’ve put me through,” Joe said.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“Oh, don’t apologize. You made up for it, being such wonderful eye candy.  I enjoyed our showers together, too, by the way.”

“So while I was lying there, off somewhere, and helpless, everybody was ogling my body?”

“Something like that,” Joe said. 

“The women nurses, too?” I asked.

“I think they fought to see who got to bathe you. And you got the longest, most tender and loving baths of anybody in the hospital,” Joe said, laughing.

“Mitch said my, uh….my hardons were on display.”

“Well, we didn’t sell tickets, but word got around pretty quick when you got one,” Joe said.  By that time, he was naked, and it was my turn to ogle his body.  Godd, he was built!  So was Mitch. I could tell that by the way they filled out their clothes, but this was naked built, and different from being in the shower with Joe.

“You guys must work out at the same gym,” I said.

“We do.  But you’re still overdressed, Marine, which essentially makes you out of uniform.”

“One of you wanta do something about that?” I asked cockily.

Then both reached for my shorts.  They both went to their haunches to pull them down while I peeled off my T-shirt.  I lifted one foot then the other then stood naked.  They both tilted forward onto their knees and buried their faces in my crotch, and I felt two warm, rough tongues on my balls.

To say that I got a proper sendoff would be a gross understatement.  Together, they sucked me dry, sharing my copious load of cum, and by sharing, I mean they swapped it back and forth till they’d swallowed it all.  That didn’t satisfy them, and they made me know that I wasn’t satisfied either. They both rimmed me.  Then they rimmed and fingered each other, and I realized that they were paving the way for me to fuck them.  I fucked them both. There was no furniture in the room, only a couple of mattresses covered with sheets, and a stack of pillows; obviously a clandestine love nest.  They knelt side by side on their hands and knees and I fucked them doggie style.  I fucked them laying on their backs side by side.  I fucked them standing up.  The most exciting thing was when they turned themselves up, butt to butt and I straddled them and alternated fucking them.  I shared my second load as well.  I started shooting into the open pit of Joe’s gaping ass then squeezed it off and directed the spurts into Mitch’s asshole.  I watched their assholes suck my cum into their bodies then I finished fucking it into them.  They finished it off by rimming each other to suck my cum out of each other’s asses.  I was in a daze. I couldn’t believe these two good-looking muscle hunks could be such hot cum-buckets.  Mitch was right.  It would shock the socks off the entire staff if they knew. The odd part was, I left with both of them thinking I was straight as an arrow.  I still have some regrets about that, when I imagine how great it would’ve been to be fucked by both of them.

We all three showered and put our same clothes back on. Mitch went his way and Joe and I went back to my room.  I was ready to leave.  Outside the room, Joe grabbed a wheelchair that was sitting in the hall.  He motioned for me to get in it.

“What?”

“I have to wheel you out,” he said.

“I just fucked your brains out, and his, and you’re treating me like an invalid?”

“Rules.”

To be continued...  

Posted: 03/06/15 rp