This is a story about a journalist who is granted a rare, inn-depth interview with a Navy SEAL. The story is fiction.


Interview with a Navy SEAL
by Devon Campbell


The bar was dimly lit and busy. He sat across from me in the booth by the window but the window was frosted over so there wasn’t much light coming in.  He was handsome, as most of these men seem to be; his features dark and weathered which put him in the class of rugged. From his thick, corded neck, his shoulders and chest, and his bared forearms, you knew he was muscular to the bone. Even his face was muscular, and his big hand wrapped around the beer bottle looked lethal.

He had agreed to meet with me and talk under the condition that no notes were taken and he would not be taped. I agreed.  I would have agreed to anything he demanded to get to talk to him; hell, just to be this close to one of these mysterious, awesome men. So I would record him in my mind and rush to make my notes as soon as the interview ended.

“You’re a Navy SEAL.  Why do you do it?”

“Because I can.”

“There are a lot guys out there who can,” I said.

He corrected me. “No, not a lot.  Some, but not a lot.”

“It still begs the question.  Why?  When you come in from a mission you look like hell.”

“Most of the missions are hell.  Otherwise they wouldn’t send in the SEALs.”

“You come in dog tired, wet, dirty yet there’s still a look about you, like right now. I can’t quite put my finger on it…it’s like a look of contentment, almost satisfaction.”

“I don’t know about contentment.  I’m happy in my skin, if that’s what you mean. But there is satisfaction that we got the job done.”

“And determination. There’s that look of steely eyed determination, and that’s AFTER the mission is completed.  It’s the same look as when you go out,” I said.

“That’s always there. You lose that, you don’t get the job done.”

“You come back from facing unthinkable dangers, stalking the enemy, killing the enemy, I have to presume blood on your knife, blood and grime on your hands; how do you put that behind you?”

“When you get done with this interview, how will you put it behind you?” he asked.

“There’s a vast difference between what you do and what I do,” I said.  “I never thought it something I needed to put behind me. It’s an interview. It’s my job.  But you…..”

“Exactly, it’s your job,” he said.

“So it’s just a job to you.”

“We’re both doing what we were trained to do,” he said.

“So you’re back, you’ll have a hot shower, a hot meal, a good night’s sleep….how do you relax?”

“Well, that’s not quite the right order,” he said with his square jaw set and a tight trace of a smile. “First I’ll get my gear squared away, ready for the next mission.  Then a hot shower and a hot meal.”

“Can’t the gear wait?”

“No. Your gear has to be squared away at all times, ready for the next mission, which could easily come even before I get my hot shower and chow. There’s no guarantee that I’ll even get any down time. I’m screwed if I neglect my gear.”

“Fair enough. So you get your gear squared away and then a shower and chow, hopefully.  Then how do you relax?”

“Well, there’s one thing that’s almost certain….the good night’s sleep will come later.”

“From that smile that you’re determined not to let happen, I think I know what you’re telling me.”

“I think you do too.  But do you want that in your interview?”

“Yes, of course. Where do you go? What do you do to wind down?  This is the put-it-behind-you part.  What do you SEALs do to put it behind you and be ready for the next mission?”

“We don’t always have the chance to put it behind us before the next mission, but if we do……”

“Yes, what if you do?  Where do you go?  Who do you see?”

“Some see their families.  Most don’t.  Most don’t have any family close by.”

“Do you?” I asked.


“Then the question’s yours.”

“I won’t bring it to a personal level, not about me or anybody I know.”

“In general, then,” I said.  “I don’t understand why you’re dancing around the issue, but I’m going to venture a guess. You hang out with your buddies either at a bar or at someone’s pad; you get drunk and/or get laid.  That pretty much sum it up?”

“In general terms,” he said.

“But there’s more,” I said.

“Do you want to venture another guess?” he asked.

“There’s the time away from your buddies.  Time that none of you talk about. Not even to each other.”

“Alright,” he said, nodding.

“So you’re admitting it,” I said.

“I’m not denying it.”

“You don’t even talk about it with the guys you’re with,” I said.

“So why would you think I would talk about it with anyone else, like yourself?”

“Because I asked; your buddies wouldn’t ask….and you really would like to talk about it.”  I paused.  “So, where do you go these times; who do you meet?”

“The place….places…..will remain nameless, as will the men.”

“All in general terms, like you said.”

“The guys are men who understand,” he began.

“Because they’ve been there and done that,” I added.

“They know the pent-up emotions. They know the body’s demand for release. And getting drunk doesn’t do a thing to release those pent-up emotions.  Getting drunk only buries them for a while; they’re still there when you sober up.  It takes an explosion….”

“I think I know what you’re trying to say.  But you’re still not saying it. Would you like to give me an example….something explicit?  Could you do that, without revealing what you’re so desperately trying to conceal?”

He thought for a moment then said, “Two come to mind.”

“Good.”  We paused again, while I waited and he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

“It’s not something I’ve ever talked about,” he said.

“Take your time,” I said.

“There was this one time….we’d just gotten in from a mission.  We were in some God-forsaken place….a jungle.  It was drizzling rain. We were dirty and sweaty so the rain felt good on our bare skin; we’d taken off our shirts for the rain.  We got back to our encampment, which was more or less permanent. It wasn’t built for us but it was abandoned and we’d taken it over.  There were wooden structures, like picnic shelters, with heavy canvas wrapped around them. There were four of them plus a large wooden platform in the center that was used for PT so we didn’t have to slosh around in the mud. One of the four structures was the chow hall and kitchen, such as it was. Another bore a resemblance to a hospital room. The other two were barren of anything that might identify their use so we took them as our barracks.  There was also a shower rigged up in a clump of trees that resembled one of those water towers they used to have along the railroad tracks. Primitive, but it bore some semblance to civilization there in the ass end of nowhere.”

“Like I said, we’d come in from a mission, tired and dirty and sweaty, in need of a shower, hot food and sleep.”

“After you get your gear squared away,” I said.

“That’s a given,” he said. “Hot food wasn’t going to happen but that left us two out of three. Me and another guy took one of the open-air hooches; the other three guys took the other one. We were shedding our gear when Rod, I’ll call him, said, `Wish somebody would tell me why this always leaves me so fuckin’ boned up.'”

“I laughed.  It was the first time I’d heard him say something like that. I told him maybe it was because he was just naturally horny. He said sometimes he felt like he was going to OD on testosterone, because he always felt such a rush when we get back.  I told him maybe he could find a moss covered knothole. I was joking but he wasn’t laughing.  He was standing there holding his shorts he’d just taken off, ready to toss them in the pile with the rest of his cruddy clothes. I was down to my shorts too, my thumbs in the waistband, about to shove them down.”

“Then he said, `Why do we fight it?’

“I didn’t know what he meant. He said he’d seen me crawl in the sack with a full blown boner more than once so he knew that I knew what he was talking about. He was looking at me with a look I’d never seen before.  It unnerved me a little, also something I’d never felt before around him. It unnerved me even more when he came toward me. My eyes took in his massively muscled frame and fell to his equally massive cock.  The guy was hung like a stallion.  I’d never seen him hard but if what he had swinging was any indication, Geezuss; he must tear a woman up.”

“I didn’t know what to expect.  I wasn’t afraid of him but I sort of braced myself for the unknown.  He came up squarely in front of me and grabbed my shorts and yanked them down before I could grab hold of them and then he grabbed hold of my cock. I thought, what the fuck and asked, `What’re you doing? I was afraid the guys in the other hooch would see us. Without a word he let go of my cock and clasped his hand around my hip and wrapped his other arm around my shoulder. I tensed up. He pulled me hard against him so he was right in my face.  I could smell his sweet breath from the gum he’d stuffed in his mouth on the way back from the mission. We never used gum or mints or even deodorant on a mission because it could be smelled by the enemy so he smelled simply like a man. He moved his hand up from my shoulder, around the back of my neck and he pulled me in closer, smashing my mouth on his own.  Christ, he was kissing me!! Geezusss, what if the other guys could see!  His other hand took hold of my cock again, squeezing and pulling on it.”

“I resisted but my efforts weren’t enough.  He had arms the size of my thighs and his grip was like a vise.  He forced me into the kiss. I still resisted but only in my head. I was horrified at the little eddies of pleasure coursing through me.  When he tried to force his tongue in my mouth, I set my hands against his thick shoulders to shove him the fuck away but he was a powerhouse and my strength was waning. I fuckin’ moaned. I relented when his tongue shoved through my lips, so deep in my mouth it was lashing at the opening of my throat.  I let out a squealing whinny; it reminded me of a young mare back on the farm, whinnying when the stallion mounted her, and I wondered what was happening to me.”

“I felt my cock growing in his hand, and felt his hot cock against my thigh, harder than before.  He said, `Admit it; you want this as much as I do. We all do, but nobody’s got the balls to admit it.'”

“I managed to break away enough to speak and I told him I didn’t want whatever the fuck he had in mind; I wasn’t gay.  He said it had nothing to do with being gay. It was just helping each other out.  I told him I didn’t need any help and if he did, it was at the end of his arm; told him to go jack off. He didn’t like that.  He erupted in a surge of strength and slammed me back against the wall so hard it dazed me and I felt the boards give. Next thing I know, he’s dropped to his knees and he’s taking my cock in his mouth! I gaped down in disbelief at this rugged, massively muscled stud with his mouth wrapped around my thick cock, and he was taking it like he’d done this before.”

“I wondered about the other three guys in the other hooch. I looked over that way to see Washington, a big colored guy, carrying Salazar over his shoulder out in the downpour.  When I say big, Washington was six-four, 260 pounds and he was all muscle. Guys stopped what they were doing just to watch the big stud walk to the showers, and coming back.  Salazar, on the other hand was little by comparison, a hundred pounds lighter, also dark skinned but he was more olive.  He was some kind of Mediterranean descent. They were both naked.  Salazar wasn’t showing any kind of resistance. Wouldn’t have done him any good; Washington had one big arm holding Salazar on his shoulder and there was no getting away.  Washington was often referred to as the black stallion, and for good reason.  He was massive all over.  His cock swung around like a radiator hose, smacking his thighs as he walked.”

“He carried Salazar out to the wooden platform, like he was going on stage for a performance.  Maybe that’s what he was doing; wanting to show off. He pulled the smaller man off his shoulder so he could stand down but then he picked him up again and Salazar wrapped both legs around his hips and held onto his massive neck.  I watched, rather awed, as the man’s cock rose to the occasion. He reminded me of stallions I’d seen getting hard to breed a mare.  It took about fifteen seconds to get enough blood pumped down there to cause his cock stick straight out, then another three seconds for it to lift higher, towards Salazar’s spread butt.  This wasn’t forced, although Salazar had no chance of getting out of it….but he reached around and took hold of Washington’s cock and guided it to his ass.  Then he held onto Washington’s neck and slowly lowered himself onto the massive cock. When he’d impaled himself Washington started fucking him.  He fucked the poor guy to a frazzle.  He was literally like a rag doll in the man’s hands. It was the hottest sex I’d ever seen, then and since.”

“You said there were two times,” I said. “Wanta tell me about the other time?” I asked, hoping it was like the first story.

“It was, uh…..a group thing.  Oh, first, we found out later that the guys in the other hooch had a three-way.”

“Was it just that one time with you and……I forgot his name,” I said.

“No.  No, it wasn’t.  But we’ll leave it there,” he said.

I didn’t press him.  “So what about the group thing?  You all five got together after that?”

“No, not the five of us.  It was another group. We met up in an old abandoned barracks that was used only for training missions. They were old WWII barracks, located way at the back of the base; no traffic or anything. It was pretty overgrown back there. We were up on the second floor. There were no lights, just candles set around so we could see to find our way around. The windows were covered with blankets. There was a bunch of us….I don’t know, eight or ten guys. SEALs and a couple of Marines they invited. Everybody pitched in for the beer.  I was relatively new, just finding out about the subculture that flourished in a special few of the units. I was surprised to learn that it was a strip down, grope and play party.  If the brass would just let women come on the base….that’s what everybody said; the excuse they used as justification. But they were awfully comfortable with everything.”

“After a few beers, guys were starting cracking jokes… jokes….and getting friendly and then clothes started coming off.  This got my attention like you wouldn’t believe. Some of the friendlier ones were helping each other off with their clothes. I was standing sort of back in the shadows, half hidden beside a wall locker where I was watching this youngish looking guy….a kid, really, in the soft, dim light….standing off closer to the door, like he wanted to be prepared to escape. I thought he might be scared at what he saw happening. I was more curious than scared. I took off my own shirt and hung it on a hook inside the locker. Something made me want to impress the kid, and protect him; rescue him from a fate that was no doubt whirling around in his head.  I moved out of my safe place and moved across and down the aisle where he was standing. Closer, he seemed to be cowering.”

“I said, `Hey’ as I approached him.  He said `Hey’ back. He was young all right; still a teenager.  He looked too young to be there; too young even to be in training.  I pointedly asked him if he should be there.  He reared back, a little defensive, and said he was a diver, and he was invited. Anyone that new to training wasn’t normally invited to social functions like this and I told him that.  He told me again….this time sounding irritated….that he was invited.  I backed off a little and told him I was glad he was there; and I was.  He was young and you could see the innocence in his eyes, even in the dim candlelight. I asked if I could take his shirt; warned him that things were going to be heating up.  He seemed surprised but he tugged his T-shirt out of his pants and let me peel it off of him.  I laughed softly and said, `I take it all back.  The way you’re put together, I guess you do belong here.'”

“That put him more at ease with me. I patted his stomach…he had abs like steel plating….and asked him if he’d always been built like that. He said he started working out when he was fourteen. I asked, `How long ago was that, a year ago?’  “Then I pointedly asked him how old he was. He said seventeen.  I told him I’d never seen a seventeen year old built like he was. He said he wanted to be in shape to get in the SEALs.  I said `Well, you did that, but how’d you manage to get assigned right to SEAL training?’ He said his grandfather was friends with a Navy commander who was friends with their congressman. I told him, “Okay, that got you in but it’s not going to get you through BUDS. You know that, don’t you?’  He said not to worry; he would get through BUDS on his own merits.  I moved between the bunks, sat down and patted the mattress.  `Sit down, let’s talk.'”

“He sat down, putting some safe distance between us. I said, `Don’t be afraid, I won’t bite,’ as I reached over and squeezed his leg just above the knee.”

“He glanced to the other side of the room and said, `I see what’s going on.'”

“`And you don’t want to be part of what you see going on?’ I asked.

“He said he didn’t know.”

“I asked him if he’d ever had a blowjob; he said no.  I asked him if he’d ever gotten laid; he said no.  `But don’t tell that around; I don’t want anybody knowing I’m still a virgin.’

“I told him okay, it would be between him and me.  He said, “I don’t know if I can trust you.'”  I riled up over that.  `Something you better learn hard and fast.  If a SEAL says something, you take him at his word.  You show mistrust….even a hint of it….you’re done.’  He said he was sorry. I told him it was okay this time but not to ever show mistrust of a fellow SEAL. Then I asked him if he wanted to get laid.  He said Hell, yeah, but looked around again and noted that there were no women.  I tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the other end of the barracks, where there was a guy on his back with his legs thrown up high and wide and another guy on top of him, fucking his brains out. He looked and blinked, his mouth dropping open. It was no doubt the shock of his young life.”

“He said, `Geez, I didn’t know guys did that.’  I told him, yeah, guys do that.  Then I laid it on the line.  `Look, you’re gonna get fucked tonight before you get out of here.  You want me to break you in?'”

“He looked at me like he’d seen a ghost. I mean, I could see him turning pale in the dim light.  `No way.  No fuckin’ way,” he said.  I said, `Way. And more ways than one. You were invited for a reason.  No way out of it.'”

“I didn’t know if he was going to cry or try to run. I was ready to stop him if he tried.  I told him, `I’ll be easy with you. And it won’t be one-sided.  You can fuck me, too.  In fact, you can fuck me first if you want to.’  I heard him swallow.  `You would let me….do that?”  He was truly shocked.  I told him sure, I would like for him to.  I was trying to soften him up; make him think about it…..if a stud like me would take it up the ass it couldn’t be so bad, and he would believe he could do it.”

“I told him to stand up and when he did I pulled his shorts down.  His cock popped up like a steel spring.  He was big, and thick and fuck, he wasn’t done growing.  My mouth was watering.  As I reached down to finish taking his shorts off I took his cock in my mouth. He choked on a gasping moan and bit down on the palm of his hand but he couldn’t stifle his `Ohhh, Christ!’ that gave me a thrill.  I sucked him for a little bit then released his cock. “How’d that feel?'”

“`Oh, fuck, I can’t even describe it!'”

“`That was a first for you, wasn’t it?'”


“`Ready to fuck?'”

`Yeah, if….if you are.'”

“`I was ready when I first saw you.’ I stretched out on the bunk on my stomach and told him to climb on. He was nervous as hell; I liked that. But he found his way, like any red blooded American boy-Marine. I kept my legs together. He straddled them and poked at my butt till he found the path to bliss. I let him know he was on target by humping back against his cock, then I lay still so he could make penetration.  I winced a little when he pushed through; he had a head on him the size of a baseball.”

“He gushed, `Oh, Godd!’ as he sank all the way in.  I let out a little moan myself as I discovered just how big he was.  When he was in he laid across me and that felt good too, all that young muscle pressing and writhing against me, which felt almost as good as his cock inside me. This kid was the total package.  We lay like that for a long moment while his cock throbbed and bucked inside me, getting acquainted with my ass. Then he started fucking me. He was a good fuck.  No, he was a GREAT fuck; far beyond anything I expected from a virgin.  He had some moves. Fucker had me seeing stars a couple of times. He didn’t make me cum, though, but that wasn’t his fault.  I’ve developed staying power and I was trying to hold off, for him as well as me.”

The man squirmed in his seat and I wondered if he had a hardon from telling me his story.

“Did he cum?” I asked the SEAL.

“Did he ever!  The bunk was shaking; I was afraid it might break down under the pounding he was giving me. And I was hanging onto the steel frame for dear life.”

“So, did you fuck him?” I asked.

“Yeah, but after we recuperated.  Couple of times guys came over wanting to join in but I kept him to myself. I mean, when you’ve got something that good you don’t wanta share.”

He sounded like he was finished.  I knew there was more, even besides him fucking the boy, but he wasn’t telling me.  I didn’t press it. It was his story and I was grateful he’d opened up as much as he did.  I told him that.

“There’s more,” I said.  “More besides you fucking him.  But I’m not going to hear it, am I?”

He shook his head no.

“Your eyes are still dancing,” I said.  He smiled and frowned.  “I watched your eyes the whole time you were talking. They danced with excitement, and anticipation to tell me more. They’re still dancing, but now you’re hiding the rest of the story.”

“You’re good at your job,” he said.

“So are you.”

“Just answer me one thing then we’ll bring it to a close.”

“Maybe.  Ask it,” he said.

“He’s still out there, isn’t he, in that safe place where you go. He’s there, waiting for you to come back in.”

“You’re good at your job,” he said again.

We both laughed.

“I only wish I was as lucky,” I said.

“Yeah, I am lucky,” he said.

“No, I meant as lucky as him.”

To my dismay, he let it pass.  “What’re you going to do with your story?” he asked.

“Publish it,” I replied.

“You can’t publish what I just told you.”

“No, not the way you told me but there’s still a story there.  But the way you told it, I might publish that on one of the gay sites.  With your permission, if course.”

“Can’t think of anything I said that would give me or anybody away.”

“I’ll let you read it first,” I said.  “One more question?”


“Do you keep the boy to yourself, or are there other SEALs that see him?”

“Yes, and no.  Every man’s got his quiet place but it’s his and his alone, along with whoever he’s chosen to share that time with him.”

“The chosen….I envy them,” I said.

“It’s the way life is,” he said with a shrug

It was time to end it.  “I’ve taken up enough of your time.” I stood and put out my hand.  He did the same.  “Thank you for your service. I know that probably gets old but I’ll add this….I envy your service. I envy your courage. You are a man among men.”

“Now you’re embarrassing me,” he said as we shook hands.

His hand wasn’t that much bigger than mine yet it seemed to dwarf mine. It was muscular….deadly.

“Be embarrassed,” I said.  I stood in a pause.  “For the record… there a chance I could ever be in your quiet place?”

He thought for a moment then replied, “I wouldn’t rule it out if we cross paths again.”


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  1. I enjoy the story. Would be there a follow-on?

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