I SPENT the morning by the pool until the midday sun became too intense. After a long run on the treadmill in the basic hotel gym and a couple of lousy movies on TV, I began to get ready for the night ahead. It was going to be the biggest event of the week and one I couldn’t afford to mess up. It may not have been on a night the locals considered a weekend, but Jackie convinced me that, in her experience, the foreign soldiers still came out in droves on Sunday nights. The venue was the largest on the island by far and was fast developing the reputation throughout the military community of being the best place to go to let off steam.
“Do you think you’ll see that Damon chap tonight?” Jackie asked as she sipped wine on the sofa of my hotel suite.
“God, I hope not,” I said as I looked over yet another script for my pitch to the men that night. It was getting harder to say the same thing about their bravery and commitment, but in a different way, and still sound sincere.
“Your nose will be as big as his cock if you continue to tell such lies, Master Wells,” Jackie laughed. “I don’t believe for a second that you wouldn’t want to run into him again.”
“Okay, I admit he was a great fuck who made my legs go wobbly—”
“Charming description,” Jackie interrupted.
“—but again, Jacks, it’s just a great memory to take home. I would rather not be reminded of how he ignored me afterward.”
“Darling, who cares about arrogance when you’re being punched in the kidneys while performing fellatio on grateful militia?”
“Let me know tomorrow night, you little minx,” I said, pinching her side.
“I should imagine Peter will be a little more delicate with me than Damon was with you. But then again, who doesn’t like a bit of rough every now and again?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Jacks, there’s a fine line between ‘rough’ and ‘assault’.”
“That’s just semantics, sweetheart,” Jackie said after finishing the last drop of wine in her glass.
WITH the capacity to hold 3,000 people, The Bay was not only at capacity but had a line four-deep running down the street and around the corner. Jackie’s information certainly turned out to be correct. Inside, the place was so packed that the girls seemed to evaporate into the crowd as they walked around with free beers. The only indications of where they were in the sea of soldiers were the hollers and wolf whistles of the men as the girls walked past.
There was an odd atmosphere that I hadn’t felt before. I couldn’t tell whether it was the soldiers’ collective expectation of the girls’ performance or their impatience.
I pitched the Beer Box so the girls would appear from the end of the dance floor in an attempt to create a stage area that would afford everyone on the floor and the balconies above the best view. Since we expected a big turnout, Jackie suggested that we station two of the girls at the door to hand cans of beer to the men with a smile upon arrival. This assured that everyone got at least one free can of Side Line that night, as there was no way the girls could hand out enough by walking through the crowd. The remaining crates of beer were distributed to each of the bars after Jackie convinced the owner to allow the barmen to pass it out as it was requested until the last can was handed out.
After two hours, I gathered the girls into the box to change into their cheerleading uniforms. Jackie stood beside me with a large Side Line branded box holding all the promotional giveaways for the night to ensure for maximum distribution.
“Welcome to Side Line night here at The Bay! Are you having a good time?” I punched the microphone toward the men, and the cheer raised the roof. Jackie dug her hands into the box and threw a load of key rings into the crowd like they were beads at Mardi Gras. “We hope you’re enjoying the free Side Line beers from our girls as they make their way around. You can also get some from the hardworking guys behind the bar.”
Jackie lobbed foam beer koozies into the sea of outstretched hands.
“Be sure to have a can of Side Line in your hands later so you can participate in a special giveaway we have planned for you!”
Jackie threw several rolled up T-shirts into the crowd.
“Now, we know some of you guys will be staying here in Bahrain, but the majority of you are heading on to Afghanistan or Iran. We would like to take this opportunity to extend our personal thanks to you all for the hard work and bravery you show every day to protect us. I hope you guys all know how highly you are regarded.”
I looked over at Jackie. “Do you have anything else we can give these guys?”
Jackie shrugged and turned the box to the crowd to show it was empty. “Nothing left, boys. Sorry!” she said, looking sad.
“There must be something more we can give these guys.”
On cue, the girls in the box hollered and whooped. A few seconds later, five red bras, each branded with “Side” and “Line” on each cup, flew up and over the top of the box in different directions into the crowd. I looked over at Jackie, whose eyes were trained in the direction where one of the bras had been caught. A small scuffle had broken out, and we watched as a couple of men tugged and ripped the bra in two, each refusing to give up their prize.
Jackie turned to me with a glance of alarm. She took a deep breath and nodded for me to go on.
“Are you ready to meet the girls?” I shouted enthusiastically into the microphone as the drum music began to play. The crowd went hysterical. I usually saw this as a great sign, but tonight it unnerved me. There was a touch of tense desperation in the air, like the men weren’t just looking at the girls with good-natured horniness, but rather with a kind of collective sinister leer that put me on edge. As each of the girls marched out of the box through the slit in the curtain, I introduced them by name as they twirled their batons into the air, caught them, and then struck a pose. After the last girl came out, they continued with their routines, each move impeccably executed and perfectly timed.
As the girls performed, I held the microphone away and spoke into Jackie’s ear. “We may have misjudged this. We’ll keep it short, let them finish the routine, do the pyramid, and get them changed back into jeans and T-shirts. Then we’ll get them safely behind the bar handing out the beer.”
Jackie nodded and then slid behind the girls into the box to await their retreat from the stage so she could tell them the new plan for the evening. I saw the bar owner and, while the crowd was distracted, I beckoned him over to ask his permission for the girls to stay behind the bar for the rest of the night. He hesitated at first, since he knew the guys would be more amped up if the girls mingled with the crowd. But the look on my face made it clear that this wasn’t so much a request as a demand, and he relented.
The girls formed their pyramid, and the crowd erupted with such intensity that the stamping feet and applause shook the floor. Everywhere I looked I could see guys with hands in their pockets adjusting their hard-ons or pulling their T-shirts down to disguise the ever-growing thick line forming in their jeans. But this time, far from getting a thrill out of it, I was scared as hell. The girls dismounted and formed a line to take a bow.
I took hold of Emma’s hand, since she stood at the end of the line, and pulled her against me to whisper in her ear. “Get in the box, get changed, and get Jackie to lead you around the wall and into the back. Do not stop, and do not speak to anyone one.” I tried to keep my voice light so as not to alarm her. Emma nodded and led the girls through the curtains.
I waited as long as I could before taking the microphone again, hoping the girls had enough time to change.
“Gentlemen! Once again we want to thank every one of you for taking the time to come out and see us tonight!” I could hear some kind of chant growing louder from the back of the room. “We at Side Line also have some great news for you all!”
The chant progressed forward through the crowd and became louder and clearer. “Girls, girls, girls.”
“Guys, please, if I can I have your attention for a moment,” I said, holding up a palm to try and quiet the crowd. “We have some great news that we don’t want you to miss.”
“BRING BACK THE GIRLS! BRING BACK THE GIRLS! BRING BACK THE GIRLS!” The chant had changed halfway across the room. It didn’t sound like a good-humored request, but rather more like a demand.
“Guys, please, if I can please have your attention for a moment.” I slapped the microphone with the palm of my hand, sending three muffled bangs out of the speakers. The noise dissolved in my ears as the chanting subsided. I looked behind me and saw Jackie at the back of the box, nodding. I turned back to the crowd.
“Side Line wants to have the chance to sponsor a cause dear to your hearts. If I can ask you all to look toward the back bar.” All heads turned. I whipped my head around while the crowd was distracted and saw Jackie leading the girls away. “Can you see on the bar in the back there are pens and slips of paper? We want you take a moment to jot down the name of an organization that helps support veterans.”
A group of men near the front of the stage was following the girls with their eyes as they left the box to walk around the back wall. I tapped the microphone again and stared down at them, making it clear I was watching them.
“Side Line beer has agreed to make a substantial donation to various charitable funds. So whether it’s placing a working dog with an injured veteran or organizations that support veterans’ families during their deployments, the money will go to good use.”
Heads nodded, and it seemed my words were appreciated. Gradually, the atmosphere began to shift.
“But we need your help, guys. Please give us your suggestions tonight so Side Line can begin the process of helping those in need and supporting military families who need assistance.”
There was applause. It was enthusiastic but a little somber. Our attempt to give the girls a chance to get to the back and tame the frenzy we caused seemed to have worked.
I stepped off the stage and made my way to the back of the bar just as the club started playing its regular music again. I leaned against the doors with the girls in front of me and watched Jackie walk over to the bar owners. The girls were beaming and looked energized, with massive smiles on their faces. I was a little confused at first, but then realized that they hadn’t seen the fight over the bra and were only concentrated on their performance, so they only saw a sea of men who appreciated their efforts.
“Girls, great job,” I said, smiling so as not to scare them. “But I think these guys are getting a little full-on tonight. For the rest of the night, you are to stay behind the bar and hand out the rest of the beer sparingly. Please don’t engage in too much conversation over the bar, and work in pairs.”
Jackie returned and took over, smiling. “Girls, the owner has just brought in some soft drinks for you all. Have a quick break, and then we’ll head back out.” She turned to Nikki. “Since we girls are an odd number, I will be working with you.”
The girls headed off into a back room, and the smile dropped from Jackie’s face. “What the hell did we expect?” she asked, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. “We’ve been turning them on all week. Of course they were going to become rowdy.”
“This isn’t our usual crowd, though, Jacks. Usually these gigs are one-off and hardly ever have the same people night after night.”
Jackie slapped her palm against her head. “We should never have thrown the bras out.”
“It seemed like a good idea when we talked about it earlier. The reaction was just stronger than we imagined.” I pulled the cigarette out of her hand and took a drag. “It was scary to watch, though, huh?”
Jackie nodded slowly. “The owner has been an absolute dream, but then again I suppose he doesn’t want any trouble either.”
“Do you want to call it a night?” I asked.
Jackie pondered this for a moment. “Do you think we’re overreacting? I mean, they are all highly disciplined military men. I can’t imagine they would cause a ruckus.” She took another puff of her cigarette. “But then again, if anything did get out of hand, we’d be next to useless trying to control it.”
“How do the girls feel about it?”
“They’re all fine. They’re having a great time. I think it’s the most appreciative audience they’ve ever played to, so they feel like stars.”
“Okay, how about we have them stay behind the bar for twenty minutes so we don’t just disappear immediately? They should be okay there. Then we’ll get the owner to grab us taxis to meet us in the back and leave early.”
Jackie mulled it over for a moment before she agreed. She joined the girls to explain the plan of action, while I returned to the bar with a smile on my face. I mingled with the guys as much as I could to gauge the atmosphere. But whatever Jackie and I thought we felt seemed to have dissipated. The crowd was still in high spirits, but the overall demeanor was calm.
The squad filed out to the bar to another round of cheers from the soldiers. I watched from the public side of the bar as the girls handed beers to guys who obviously were pleased to see them again, but didn’t look like they posed any threat. I shook off my caution a bit and leaned over the bar to Jackie to tell her that everything seemed to have calmed down.
Just as I was about to speak, I saw an arm reach across the bar and firmly take hold of Emma’s elbow. I raced forward, knocking two guys out of my way before snatching the hand off Emma and pushing its owner back into the crowd. Only then did I recognize that it was Brandon, the tall Navy SEAL we’d met at the beach the day before.
Understanding that he was probably just trying to get Emma’s attention, I held my palms up in apology for my overreaction. His friend, however, who I didn’t recognize, took my reaction as hostile. He shoved me, and my back slammed into the bar. He raised an arm. Instinctively, I leaned away from the blow, but his clenched fist still careened off the side of my head. My ears started to ring instantly. I turned to assess where the next punch would come from, but suddenly felt my body being forcibly thrown to one side by a single strong hand. A huge balled fist shot past my face; there was a flash of an anchor. One of the girls screamed behind me as I saw Damon’s fist crash into Brandon’s face and then, without skipping a beat, onto the nose of his friend who had struck me.
The crowd parted as the club’s security guards stampeded toward the bar. Arms were thrown around shoulders like straitjackets, and we were all pulled out the door and pushed onto the sidewalk.
I threw my arms up before another punch could be thrown. “Calm down!” I shouted as Brandon got on his feet and took a step toward Damon, who was examining the blood dripping from his knuckles. Jackie flew out the door and stood between all of us like a referee at a boxing match.
“Simmer down, boys,” she said calmly as her eyes darted between each of us. “Let’s not get out of hand. I am sure your superiors would rather not pick you up from a jail cell tonight.”
Her words seemed to hit home, and everyone backed off.
“Jackie, get the girls in a cab and back to the hotel.”
“Already done. The cab was waiting for them when this all kicked off. I’ve sent them on ahead.”
I looked at Damon’s hand and put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked back and drew himself up to full height. I turned to the other two lads. “Look, guys, we don’t want any trouble. Brandon, I saw a hand grab for one of the girls, and I reacted. It’s as simple as that. If I’d seen it was you, I wouldn’t have jumped the gun so much. That was my fault, and I apologize.”
Brandon’s anger showed through gritted teeth and a throbbing vein in his neck. “Yeah, but it doesn’t excuse this prick!”
Damon moved forward, but Jackie countered his move and slammed a palm on his chest to hold him back. Damon sneered at Brandon. “I just floored both of you fuckers! You want to go again?”
“Look, mate, it’s my job to protect those girls, and he was just helping me out,” I said, also standing between them. “Jackie’s right. Do you guys really want to explain this tonight to whomever you answer to? Let it go.” They looked at each other once again and seemed to weigh what I was saying. “Look, free drinks all night on Tuesday night for you and whoever you bring along if we can all just let this go.”
Brandon spat blood onto the curb. Pinching his nose to stem the blood flowing from his nostrils, he nudged his friend, and they sulked down the street.
“Jackie, would you take Damon back to the hotel so we can patch him up before he heads back to the barracks?” I asked, passing her my room key. “I just have to make nice with the club owner.”
I ARRIVED back at the hotel to find Jackie halfway through bandaging Damon’s wrist. The hotel’s first aid kit lay open, with small empty packets of antiseptic wipes strewn across the table. The tops of Damon’s knuckles had been wiped clean and bore small cuts that, considering the amount of blood that I had seen, didn’t appear to be as bad as I expected.
“It seems our young warrior here has injured his wrist while defending young Emma’s honor,” Jackie said as she carefully secured the bandage with medical tape. She eyed him up and down. “And might I just add, what a magnificent display of brutality it was!” She winked at Damon.
“How are the girls?”
“Oh, darling they’re fine. Emma was a little shaken, but once I explained what happened, she was delighted that you jumped to her defense,” Jackie said, returning the tape to the first aid kit. “All the girls are with her now sharing a cheeky bottle of wine in her room.”
“And are you okay?” I asked.
“My love, I wasn’t the one dodging punches, was I? I am absolutely fine.”
“Why don’t you go and join the girls, Jacks? I can finish off here and get Damon back on his way.”
Jackie rose from her seat and gave me one of her all-knowing smiles before she turned and knelt to give Damon a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, young man. You’re our hero,” she said, looking quite small next to his large frame.
Jackie waltzed out the door, slowly closing it behind her as though she was sneaking out of the room without making a noise. I emptied the remains of the ice bucket into a hand towel, twisted off the ends, and put the makeshift ice pack onto Damon’s knuckles. I sat in the chair across from him and applied a little pressure onto the towel. He winced.
“Thank you,” I said with all sincerity.
“No problem,” Damon replied flatly.
“I’m sorry about the other night, calling you up on stage.”
“Why? You made me look good in front of my buddies,” he said, still in an even voice.
I removed the towel to see if the swelling had gone down, but his knuckles still looked enflamed and puffy.
“I’ll run downstairs and grab you a cab back to the barracks,” I said, fumbling with the medical tape. “Will you get in trouble if you’re back late?”
“I don’t have a curfew tonight. It’s one of only two nights this week that we’re free from it.”
“Oh, okay. In that case, do you want me to ask the hotel to call a doctor to check this hand out?”
It was the first time he smiled that evening. His face softened, even if the tone of his voice didn’t. “No, I think it’s okay. I’ve done a lot worse to myself and lived to tell about it.”
“I’m sure you have.”
Damon looked down. A smattering of dried blood was matted in the blond hairs on his forearm.
“Do you want to wash off before you head back? You look in a bit of a state.”
“Yeah, if that’s okay.”
“Can I get you a drink? I think there are some whiskey miniatures in the minibar.”
“Anything but whiskey,” he said, grimacing.
Damon got up and walked to the bathroom. I heard water running as I searched the room for a glass that Jackie and I hadn’t used before we left. Expecting that Damon was only washing his arm in the sink, I walked into the bathroom to find him shirtless with his belt buckle unhitched. His free arm was extended, testing the temperature of the water in the shower and I noticed he had a star tattooed on the front side of each shoulder.
“Clean glass,” I said as I reached across the sink to grab the tumbler that sat behind the tap.
His shirtless upper body was even more magnificent than I had imagined. He didn’t have the typical dream muscle body that was worked and sculptured to perfection in a gym. His was a body that had been earned through hard, masculine work. His wide lats and thick back were shaped from years of carrying heavy military packs for countless miles. His arms bulged from lifting duffle bags from camp to camp. His shoulders were rounded and cut from supporting the strap of a heavy firearm. His lean, tapered abdominals were covered with light blond hair that ran down toward his belt. His massive chest, cut from demanding drills from screaming commanders in training, held a tattoo on his left pectoral muscle that was covered with light brown chest hair. It looked like an eagle with splayed wings sitting on a globe and an old-fashioned anchor running through it. Above, in italic writing, it read Semper Fi.
After stealing a lingering gaze, I returned to the room and poured the vodka. Since the ice bucket was empty, I headed out into the hall to the ice machine. When I returned I could hear the intermittent splash of water hitting the bottom of the bathtub. The door was slightly ajar, so when I walked past, I got a glimpse of him, one bandaged hand stretched out of the shower while the other ran a soapy washcloth over his body. I stopped and watched for a moment, like the same peeping Tom I was as a kid staring at Jamie in the school shower.
Damon’s body was tanned and golden down to his hips until a white box of flesh showed where he wore his shorts. The white lather from the soap ran down his stomach and off his cock, as thick flaccid as it was hard, like a thick stream of bubbly white piss. With one arm still outside the shower, he turned to rinse his back. His skin glistened under the water, apart from a jagged scar that ran about eight inches vertical from his shoulder blade. I followed the trail of water as it cascaded off his high, round ass and fell like a waterfall from the bottom of his plump muscular cheeks. I was so strongly aroused that shakes replaced my hard-on. I felt as though my brain was filling with blood instead of my cock. I sat at the small desk in the room and waited to hear the water stop.
When Damon emerged from the bathroom, a white towel was wrapped around his waist, and he carried his bundle of clothes, which he dropped on the floor next to the bed. The air conditioning hit his hot flesh and the residual water on his skin began to rise in steam.
“Semper fi?” I asked, pointing to his tattoo.
“Always faithful,” he said, placing his palm to his chest like he was covering his heart or about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance.
“Personal or military motto?”
“Both,” he replied.
I sat back on the chair and took a sip of vodka. Damon walked over to me and stopped in front of my knees. Unclipping the knot, he let the towel fall to the floor with a damp thud. He stood with his hands to his sides, presenting his cock to me as it began to swell. My gaze traveled up his body until they met his. He towered above me and looked down, nodding to his cock as if to give me permission to begin.
I didn’t move. I remained stoic and unbothered by his exposure. His face changed to a mixture of confusion and impatience. What was I waiting for? Didn’t I owe him for his act of heroism at the bar? Or was he confused why I wouldn’t be acting a little more grateful to have the chance to take him in my mouth? We stared at each other like two cats down an alleyway. He eventually broke his stare and bent over to pick up his towel.
I truthfully was grateful to him, but I wasn’t about to suck his dick as a reward. I felt like I needed to delay his pleasure and quash his vanity for a moment to make him understand that, unlike last time, sex was about two people, not just one. I wanted him, probably more than he wanted me. But I wanted us to have sex, not just him being serviced and getting what he wanted. As he reached for his towel, I knew that this little game of cat-and-mouse would eventually lead him to get dressed and walk out the door.
I caved. Like I knew I would. I wanted him too much.
I moved off the chair and dropped to my knees, my head bowed in an accidental show of subservience to his cock. I ran my hands up the sides of his thick thighs and around to his ass, still clammy from his shower. His muscled cheeks tensed and hardened like covered stone. I kneaded the flesh of his ass with my fingers slowly until they began to relax, only to feel them tense again as I took his cock deep into my throat.
“That’s it, buddy,” Damon said.
I varied the speed and intensity, but I soon learned what he enjoyed the most by way of his fingers tightening his grip on my hair. I pulled my fingers down over his scrotum like a reverse claw from an arcade grab machine. This must have been a new trick to him, as he began to sound like he was attempting to catch his breath from the pleasure. His whole body showed signs of his heightened arousal. His fingers worked furiously into my hair. His abdominal muscles tightened and relaxed with every thrust into my mouth, and his face and neck became flushed, like he was holding off coming too soon.
The knuckles of his injured hand began to swell again. The tight bandages on his wrist caused the veins of his forearm to fill with blood until they were raised under his skin, giving him the look of a boxer fresh from a fight.
He moved us onto the bed, where he lay on his back and waited for me to strip to my briefs and get into position. I turned off the main light and switched on the two bedside lamps, focusing the intimacy in the room solely on the bed. I got onto one elbow and began sucking his cock and tugging lightly at his balls. My occasional involuntary groans were met with exaggerated exhales from him as my moan vibrated in my throat and onto his cock.
He rested his hand onto the back of my head, only applying pressure if I dared to stop deep-throating him. I occasionally glanced up at him, only to see his head tilted back onto a pillow, causing his Adam’s apple to protrude as he caught his breath and swallowed. He released the back of my head, and his body leaned to one side as I continued to suck. I could hear the buckle on his discarded jeans chink on the floor as he attempted to retrieve something from the pocket. Upright again, he encouraged me to continue with a couple of well-timed thrusts of his hips. I heard the rustle of foil and the click of a lighter. I looked up and saw him take a long draw of a cigarette.
“Comfortable?” I asked with a rasp of sarcasm. He nodded his head and returned his hand to the back of my head to push me back onto his cock. I heard the sound of gliding wood as he opened the drawer of the bedside table. His cock was at the back of my throat when I felt the sharp sensation of heavy ice on top of my shoulder blade. He had put the ashtray on my back.
The anger boiling within me only fueled my arousal. I pulled at my briefs enough to slip them halfway down my ass cheeks and far enough down to pull out my cock. I pushed my hips back onto the bed and felt the rough cotton of the sheets against my balls. The ashtray edged its way down my back as I sucked his cock even harder. I felt a hot, needle-like pain roll down my back as Damon missed his target and flicked hot ash between my shoulders. Damon seemed to enjoy this even more as I let out a small cry of pain that vibrated onto his cock.
With a cuffed palm, Damon slapped my cheek twice to indicate for me to stop.
“I’m getting too close and don’t want to cum yet, buddy.”
I pulled away and got onto my knees to slide up and kiss his neck. His arm straightened, and his hand found its way to my cock. He closed his hand around it and gave it a gentle squeeze to get a feel of its girth. He pulled at it once, then released it. His hand found my chest, and he pushed me back and looked down.
“You’re uncut?” he asked.
“We’ve already fucked once, and we’re twenty minutes into this, and this is the first time you’ve noticed? What does that say about you”—I looked directly into his eyes—“buddy?”
He took hold of my cock and rolled the tip of his thumb around my foreskin. He had a curious look of fascination on his face. “Man, I have never….”
“…been with a guy as God intended him to feel?”
“It’s fucking hot,” he replied, still not taking his eyes off my cock while he rubbed a small drop of my precum around the top of my foreskin.
If you had realized that I had a cock in the first place, perhaps you could have appreciated it sooner, I thought to myself as he motioned me to shuffle back so I lay at the end of the bed. He got onto his knees and leaned forward, pulling my foreskin to the top of my cock before closing his mouth around it. I felt his tongue push it back as his head lowered onto me. I looked down at his muscular shoulders and V-shaped trunk, and he raised his ass upward. His cocksucking technique was a little clumsy and slow, but all was forgiven since it seemed to be a new experience for him.
I tapped his shoulder. “Turn around and get on your stomach,” I instructed.
“No. Sorry, man, but there ain’t no way you’re fucking me. I don’t do that,” he said, as if the idea was ridiculous to him.
“I just want to kiss your back,” I said as my hands gripped his shoulders and twisted them around so he faced away from me.
“I don’t know….”
“You don’t know what? It’s not all about you, fella. Come on, my turn.”
He seemed reluctant for a moment but slowly spun on his knees and lay facedown. He pulled a pillow under his chin and folded his arms around it to get comfortable.
Jutting his legs apart with my knees and balancing my hands on either side of his ample lats, I began to gently kiss the top of his right shoulder until I felt him relax. I put the weight of my head into the last kiss before I dragged my stubbled chin across the top of his back to his left shoulder where I landed, licking his skin. I centered my lips between his shoulder blades and ran my tongue down to the arched muscles at the small of his back. He moaned, so I repeated the move, but this time extended the trail down to the top of his buttock. His ass cheeks clenched immediately, but relaxed as he felt my tongue in the center of his shoulder blades again.
“Will you relax, man?” I said. His head nodded into the pillow.
I slowly made my way down again, this time continuing onto the top of his buttock. He clenched again but immediately relaxed. I kissed slowly down his ass cheek, occasionally sucking a mound of flesh into a light gnaw before releasing. I kneaded the muscles of his ass with my hands, massaging them. His back rose as he drew a long breath of pleasure. I parted his ass cheeks, and with one firm stroke of my tongue, I licked over his asshole.
You would have thought I ignited a fire under him by the way he scrambled up the bed in an attempt to get away.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded with a look of shock and confusion. He pulled a sheet up around him like he’d been violated.
I spied him for a moment, not quite believing what I was hearing. “What do you mean?”
“You just licked my ass!”
“Yeah, so?” Damon’s brow furrowed, framing an intense stare of bewilderment. “You mean no one has ever rimmed you before?”
“Hell no! Fuck me, there’s even a name for it?”
He was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of it. He was still pulling and gripping onto the sheet like someone gathering their clothes after being sexually assaulted in a back alley.
“Really?”
The shame on his face showed as he shook his head. I looked at him and once again stifled the laughter that had started building up the moment he bolted for the headboard. I was bemused that he’d never experienced it before, considering how good a fuck he was the first night we met, yet got a kick out of being the cause of this kind of reaction. Here he was, a two hundred pound Marine, in my bed looking at me like he was terrified.
“Okay, fair enough,” I began. “Well, did you enjoy it?”
“What?”
“Did you enjoy it? Considering how fast you moved, I can’t imagine you felt it for more than a split second.”
Damon looked at me like he didn’t understand the question. His genuine expression only turned me on even more.
“Let me do it again,” I said.
“No way!”
“Come on, just for a minute. If you don’t like it after that, I’ll stop.”
The corner of his bottom lip disappeared between his teeth as he considered it. I slowly dragged the sheet off him and pulled at his ankle. Saying nothing, he got back onto his belly and placed his head back on the pillow, facedown as though he couldn’t bear to witness the act.
A muffled warning came from the pillow. “Don’t even think about sticking your dick in there, buddy.”
I tapped underneath his hips to indicate to raise himself so I could slide two pillows beneath him, raising his ass higher. The view was fucking incredible. The light in the room and his body draped over the pillows accented the lines of muscles like he was in a professional photo shoot. Closing my eyes, I locked in a mental photo before I ran my tongue from the back of his knee to the back of his thigh.
I held both of his ass cheeks in my hands, kneading them again until I felt him relax. I pulled them apart and teased him with just one small flick of my tongue before he clenched again, almost locking my jaw in place. I exhaled hot air over the spit trail on his hole until he relaxed. I flattened my tongue and took another long lap over his asshole. His body went rigid.
“Good, huh?”
There was no reply, so I continued. Each time I applied just a little more pressure with my tongue. His ass began to move in encouragement. I wrapped my arms around his thighs and locked him tight in position, knowing what I was going to do next would have him flying off the bed again. I nuzzled my stubbled jaw deep between the cheeks of his ass and rammed my tongue deep into his hole. He cried out as he tried to struggle free, which only made his ass rise higher and my tongue go deeper. He cried out again. I saw a fist withdrawing from beneath the pillow, and I was sure it was aiming behind him at my head. Instead, it shot around and slammed into the headboard.
“Holy fuck!” he bellowed. “Stop! Stop!”
I slipped my tongue out only to ram it back in as far as I could and moaned heavily into his ass. The sensation of the vibrations of my groan deep in him sent what sounded like an agonizing scream into the pillow. Before I knew it, he had scrambled up the bed again. His whole body was shaking.
“Fuck, are you okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned that I had hurt him somehow.
He looked stunned. I followed his index finger as it pointed first to the pillow he had been lying on, then to the sheet, and up to the trail of hair that led down from his navel to his pubes. There was cum everywhere.
“I’ve gotta go,” he said as he bounded from the bed and bundled up his clothes from the floor. He threw them onto the chair and began to get dressed.
“What’s the problem?”
“Nothing, I just have to get back to the barracks. I have an early start in the morning.”
I stood up, naked with a hard-on that refused to go down, and watched him scramble to get dressed and out the door. He didn’t look back at me. Instead, he looked agitated that his clothes weren’t going on fast enough.
“So, that’s it, huh? You’re just going to fuck off?”
“What the fuck do you want? A cuddle?” he replied as he pounded a foot into his boot.
“You’re a fucking piece of work, man. Okay, off you go,” I said as if to dismiss him.
He stood up to his full height and pulled in his breath in what I could only describe as a deliberate show to make his chest look bigger. His attempt to appear intimidating was cut short and replaced with a look of horror when a sharp knocking came at the door. He whipped his head from the door to me and then back to the door.
“Calm down, it’s probably just one of the girls,” I said, making my way to the door. He barged past me and shot into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I peered through the peephole to see Jackie looking a little anxious. I moved my body to one side and opened the door wide enough to let my head show.
“Hello, Jay, just wanted to let you know all the girls are okay and tucked up in bed,” she said in a cheery voice before mouthing “Are you okay? I heard shouting.”
I nodded quickly. “Thanks for letting me know. I’m just out of the shower and about to head to bed. See you in the morning,” I said before mouthing “Damon is still here.” I tipped the top half of my body a little into the crack of the door to show I was nude.
“Okay, sweetheart!” Jackie said brightly. “Sleep well!” She ended by putting a manicured thumb and pinky up to her ear. “Call me,” she whispered.
I closed the door and heard the click of the bathroom lock. Damon stepped out looking antsy and peered through the peephole. Convinced that he had the all clear, he turned the handle, opened the door, and slipped out without another word.
Jackie’s appearance had finally made my cock go flaccid. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and called Jackie in her room.
“My darling, I don’t want to hear all the sordid details over the telephone. You must tell all over wine! And after tonight, I think we could both do with one. I’ll be right round.”
I looked at the disheveled bed and the cum that was seeping into the sheets and pillow. “Actually, Jacks, I had better come to your room.”
As I threw on my sneakers, I saw a hint of folded leather peeking out from under the bed. Damon’s wallet must have fallen out when he retrieved his cigarettes from his pocket. I picked it up and threw it onto the bedside table, knowing that I would get to see him at least once more at some point to return it.
“OKAY, okay,” I said, battling through Jackie’s laughter.
“You are his little plaything!” she roared. “Jay, you’re his bitch!”
I took a sip of wine. “I couldn’t believe it. Typical American, take what you want and then fuck off. You watch, I bet this war will be the same.”
Jackie spluttered into her wine. “Oh yes, darling, and you’re just the poor British bystander being pulled in against his will. God love you for taking one for your country.”
“And now I have to face him again to give him back his wallet.”
“What was in there?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t look in it. Knowing my luck, it will be a picture of his wife.”
“Or his gun.”
“Or his wife with a gun.” I took a sip of wine. “The guy is a dickhead.”
“What’s really bothering you, Jay? Be honest.”
“I’m not sure. He has a touch of arrogance about him. He acts like I should be grateful to suck his dick. He’s blasé about the fact that once he’s got what he wants, he’s not interested anymore. He’s….”
“He’s built like a brick shithouse, has a huge cock, and you hate that he is getting the upper hand,” Jackie interrupted. “You’re mad because he is using and taking advantage of you to get what he wants—”
“Jacks—”
“—but what you really hate, what bothers you the most, is that you’re secretly loving every second of it!” She squealed in delight.
I chewed on my lip. “I hate you, Jackie.”
“Darling, of course you do!”
“I’m not usually that type of guy.”
“And I’m not that type of girl!” Jackie protested. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t long for a young farmhand to take me roughly in a cornfield, only to leave me disheveled and alone while he makes off in his tractor.”
“Excuse me?”
“My point, darling, is that if you’re enjoying it, don’t let it bother you! It’s not like you’re going to marry the guy.”
“True,” I said, pouring out another glass of wine. “So, tell me more about this farmhand.”
I RETURNED to my room in the early hours, a little merry after my drinks with Jackie. I knew I was going to have a bit of a hangover in the morning so I grabbed the bottle of water off the bedside table, knocking Damon’s wallet to the floor, where it landed and flapped open. Beneath a clear laminate cover designed to hold wallet photographs, I saw Damon’s face. He looked a touch younger, but still a few years older than the young brunette girl with her arm around him. The little girl pictured between them, who resembled Damon so much, couldn’t have been any older than ten or eleven.
“Always faithful, my ass,” I said, flipping the wallet shut, then slamming it in the drawer.