(M/M) In the Marines and Abroad, Part 2 - NEW!

So here's the second part of the Marines series. I have ideas for a part 3 and 4 and perhaps at some point I'll get them on paper. In the mean time here's what I thought up today. Remember, the idea for this story is more about romance than ballbusting, so unlike most of my stories it doesn't end with a bursting. Otherwise, enjoy!

 

n.

 

In the Marines and Abroad - Part 2

 

Now that we had an official relationship, all Brad and I had to do was find the time and the privacy to pursue it, and that . . . . was not easy. Our base was crawling with troopers, at all hours of the day and in all areas. Privacy was practically nill. So for the first few weeks after our "truck liaison" we had to settle for lots of sack tapping.

 

At breakfast, lunch and dinner I would get random guys to give a light flick to Brad's crotch as they were passing by him. There he would be, getting some food when all of a sudden a quick, light slap would fly to his groin and make him clutch himself. No one else knew the significance of this, but it sort of became a "thing" in the company. When bored, give ol' Brad a quick sack tap to liven things up. And what's interesting is, he never tried to make eye contact with the person who tapped him. His eyes always came looking for me. And there I'd be, sitting down watching and waiting for my emissary to sack tap the man that I loved and lusted after. And I wouldn't just be watching him, I'd be watching his crotch. And, yup, every time he was tapped his cock swelled in his cammo pants. No one else noticed it, of course, but I did. I loved watching his fat monster swell and become rigid with fluid. It always made him sit down to eat awkwardly, as if having his pole strain against the fabric of his underwear and cammos made bending at the waste difficult and uncomfortable.

 

Since we couldn't make love with our bodies, we had to settle for making love with our eyes. At meals we would always sit apart but facing each other so that we could stare into each other's eyes while we ate. Every spoon of mashed potatoes was a kiss to his lips. Every swallowed greenbean was my mouth on his cock, sucking in his length. Every tongue across a spoon after a bite of peach cobbler was my tongue plunging into his hole, giving him the rimjob of a lifetime. And so we'd sit in silence, staring at each other from across the room while everyone else talked and joked and banged on about this and that. We were two heavenly bodies caught in each other's gravity amidst a sea of oblivious stars, circling around us.

 

Our big break came about three weeks after our initial sex. We were both assigned to the monitoring center located on the top floor of the only real building on base. It was a circular room filled with monitors and communication's equipment and it was the only place on base that did not, itself, have cameras. Not only that, but we were to be the only two people in there AND the doors could be locked from the inside. And we were set to monitor between 12 am and 5 am, when most of the rest of the troops would be asleep, quietly nestled in their bunks. It was all too perfect.

 

On the day of our monitoring duty we both had hardons all day long, and I personally sack tapped Brad three times, just so I could cop a feel, no matter how brief, of his mighty weapon. With our hormones all pent up and the expectation of hot sex that night you can be sure I was dripping baby batter all day long, through exercise drills, through showers, through guard duty, I was leaking like a mofo. They say that anticipation is half the pleasure, but for me it had the sweet pain of a broken tooth because my whole body and libido was straining against the constraints of societal bonds, bonds which prevented red blooded American's like me from having raunchy gay sex in the middle of the barracks in broad daylight amidst a sea of heterosexual guys who would probably throw up at even the idea of gay sex.

After a day of agonizing repression, 11:45 pm rolled around and both Brad and I showed up for the shift change in the monitoring room. Our marine base was crawling with cameras, eyes peering down to monitor all activity both within and without. Activity that was recorded and archived so that no enemy could infiltrate our base without someone knowing. We had guards on duty 24/7 at all entrances of the base and roving squads of men with German Shepard's patrolling the perimeter. And inside the monitoring center there were dozens of LED screens watching all of it happen. Our job, that night, was to keep an eye on everything and make sure the base was secure and safe. However, in both our minds was the notion that the likelihood of enemies choosing just this night and just our shift to launch an attack was slim to none, and therefore would could instead enjoy our privacy and pay little attention to the many monitors in the room.

 

When we got there, Leone and Travis were just writing down notes in the log about what had occurred on their shift, something Brad and I would have to do as well. They barely looked up from their writing until the clock hit midnight after which they were free to leave. They both nodded at us and Leone said in a loud voice, "The base is secure. Have a good shift, boys." gave Brad a friendly punch to the shoulder and left. A good shift? I think that was definitely something that could be arranged.

 

When the other two men had left we waited for about five minutes to make sure no one else came along to check on us, then Brad locked the door and stripped of his shirt. I stripped off mine, and I pushed him up against a wall and began to kiss him passionately, our dog tags clinking against one another. Then, knowing how much he loved nut-pain, I began to jerk my knee between his legs, slamming his swollen package against my knee-cap. He responded by grinding his nuts into my knee and practically swallowing my tongue, so eager was he to consume me. Then he threw his head back, "Oh, yeah, Oh yeah, fuck my nuts up, Russ. Give it to me good." I was pounding his potatoes for all I was worth, and he loved every minute of it. I could see his eye's roll back and his breathing become deep as he surrendered to each knee jab, each thigh slam, and it made him moan, lightly.

 

However I longed to feel his dick in my mouth, so eventually I stopped kneeing him and kneeled in front of him as he stood there, pressed against the wall. I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, and pulled his pants and underwear down. His gorgeous cock popped into view, and his two swollen nuts hung below. I grasped his balls and began to squeeze them while I sucked his dick into my mouth and began to piston up and down on it. This time he was leaking precum, no doubt due to the pounding I'd just given his nuts, and it was heaven. That sweet musky taste/smell that, for me, added such a dimension to sex with a guy. That sticky sweet taste coated my lips and tongue and I savored it. Meanwhile I dug my thumbs into his testicles, making him moan and sweat. I also loved the way his pubes tickled my nose as I deep throated his cock. He had a lovely little treasure trail and small patch of hair above his cock. The rest of his muscular body was as smooth as a baby's bottom, and that was just perfect.

 

I could feel his body tense and pulse with my oral activities and I relished it. I loved kneeling before my putative boy friend so that I could suck on his thick meat. And I could tell he was loving my thumbs pressing into his giant orbs. But eventually he pushed me away, no doubt not wanting to bring a premature closure to the evening with a premature ejaculation. He was breathing heavily as he walked towards the center of the room and began to untie his shoelaces and take his combat boots off. I also undressed until I was only in my socks and walked over to where he'd sat in the main chair in the center of the room. I straddled his now mostly naked body and sat on his lap, his cock rubbing up against mine, and I kissed him. With longing, with pent up passion, with a feverish sort of frenzy as I was about to give myself to this man who I'd drooled over for more than a year.

 

Between kisses I whispered into his sex-flushed ear. "I knew this was going to happen so I cleaned myself out today and haven't eaten anything for two days. And . . ." I said holding up a small tube, "I brought lube." He grinned, and I grinned back and we kept kissing. I pressed my woody against his and let our cock juices mingle, for he was oozing prejack as much or more than mine was. Things were getting slippery and hot. I stopped kissing him and lubed up his dick and stood up, legs on either side of the chair. With my left hand I grasped his rigid rod and with great care guided it into my hole. My hungry, eager hole. Very carefully I sat down on his dick, and all he could do was sigh with pleasure. Just as slowly and carefully I lifted myself back up, but not so far that his dick popped out, and ever so gently I began to ride his dick. Up and down, up and down. I could feel his cock-head massage my prostate. I could feel his penis fill up my gut, and I loved it. Sure having a dick up your ass feels like you're taking a dump, but that tingle from the prostate makes it all worthwhile, and the romance of riding a man you love and feel passionately about also makes it all worthwhile. I rode his cock for a good twenty minutes, with the two of us staring into each other's eyes. And yes, there was some pain, but it was a good pain, and yes I made sure to go slowly enough that he didn't cum, because I wanted that night to last as long as possible. And so I rode him. My man, my hot sexy man.

 

But Brad, in the end (insert joke), simply couldn't get off without nut pain, and that's a hard thing to accomplish when you're riding a man, so I let his dick pop out of me and kneeled in front of him. And I wanted to find some ways of causing him pain that didn't involve percussion. While he sat there, naked and cock glistening with my ass juices I pulled out his nuts and then sucked them into my mouth. I began to suck on them really hard and at the same time pressed them with my tongue. Brad sucked in his breath and then let it out with a hiss. This was clearly pained he was not expecting nor was used to. Then I switched to popping his balls between my molars - squeezing down and then letting them up. I could actually feel his tortured nuts swell. They were filling up my mouth, and I was brutalizing them. I could feel Brad's naked body twitch with each chomp and each squeeze. But his dick? Never once deflated. I could feel it pressed against my forehead as I buried my face in his crotch. With great vigor I sucked, squeezed and even twisted and pulled on his whole nut-sack until I'd turned my man in a sweaty, moaning bag of meat. When I finally tired of abusing his eggs I stood up and then pressed my knee into his sack, grinding them into the hard plastic seat of the chair. This caused literal geysers of precum to erupt from his piss-slit. Huge geysers. Which coated his dick and my thighs. Brad was moaning, "Fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh shit, SHIT."

 

But again, I didn't want it to go too far, and so I stopped, sat down in the chair opposite of him, and let him suck me off for a while. He seemed equally as happy to do so, and I enjoyed it. With my balls he was gentle. He gentle held them and tugged on them a little, and I meanwhile instructed him on how to suck a dick properly. I showed him how to make his hand an extension of his mouth, how avoid scraping the cock with the teeth and how to get a really good suction because suction is where it's at when it comes to dick sucking.

 

Our sexual escapades went on for about two hours as we took turns pleasuring each other, me abusing him, and him being gentle with me, until at last we each came, him inside me and me on his chest. We did our best to time things, and we came almost at the same time.

 

As we sat together, kissing gently, I murmured in his ear that I loved the thought of a bit of him would be inside me for the rest of the week and he chuckled. Our sweaty bodies, laying gentle together, surrounded by blinking lights and crackling radios and moving images.

 

"Well," he said finally, "I think we've had a good shift. Perhaps we'd better get some work done, otherwise someone might get wise."

 

"OK." I said, looking around, "Now where'd I drop my shirt?"