Boot Camp
by Samson Velos


Chapter 2

“Geez! I don’t know if I can do that or not. You must have some practice!” I was still catching my breath. Other than the episodes with Harris I’d never really done anything with anybody, and with Harris it was pretty much just jacking off together. Not really touching each other much. And with my girlfriend, we basically just kissed and groped a bit through our clothes.

“Well, there’s two guys in my neighborhood back home.” Clayton replied. “Sometimes we go down to the creek and jack each other off. We all have girlfriends, but they won’t do anything with us.”

“So, when you told me you were worried about how small your dick was you’d already shown it to some other guys – what did they say, and why did you need to ask me about it?”

“They didn’t say anything. We just jerked each other off and didn’t talk much. And they probably didn’t know if theirs were super big or mine was super small. And neither did I. I wanted your opinion because now, being in the Navy and all, we’ve both seen a lot more dicks and have a better idea of what’s normal.”

“Well,” I said. “Normal is one thing and small is another. Your dick is normal, it’s just a little below average in size. Anyway, it’s my turn to do you.”

“Would you just massage my shoulders and back a little bit first?” he said, turning his back to me as we stood there. “These Navy mattresses suck and give me a backache.”

I put my hands on his shoulders, squeezing and rubbing them, then down his biceps to his elbows.

“If you want me to do your back, you’re going to have to lie down.”

He flopped himself on his stomach on one of the two beds in my room. I took a moment and looked at him there, stretched out in front of me, and realized that I had never really considered the male form. It had its own attractiveness, different from the female form I had always focused on. I stepped to the bed and let the fingers of my right hand graze his leg, beginning at the top of the curve from his ankle down to the beginning of his calf and then slowly up to the hollow of his knee. At that point, his soft, downy hairs gave way to totally smooth skin. I spread my fingers outwards and moved the palm of my hand up his thighs, pausing just below the rise of his ass. I jiggled his ass a little and then hopped up on to him, knees bent and spreading my legs froggy style, and used both hands to squeeze his butt cheeks. Then I scooted up a little and began massaging his back.

As I began applying rhythmic pressure to his back, leaning in and then leaning out, my soft dick would roll around on his ass. Slowly, my cock got a half hard-on. I watched as my movements made my dick move up and down, side to side on his butt cheeks. Damn! Those cheeks were silky smooth and milky white! Sometimes my dick got hung up a bit in his crack, which excited me and made me harder. I continued this for some time. Clayton began to grind his hips into my mattress, making circular motions with occasional thrusts. Now my dick was plenty hard. Clayton was groaning now. His grinding got faster. I stopped massaging his back and grabbed my dick by the lower end of its shaft with my right hand and put the head just a bit in between his ass cheeks. I put my left hand behind me, on his thigh, for support. He kept grinding while I jiggled the head of my cock in between his ass cheeks.

“Don’t fuck my ass!” Clayton shouted.

“I’m not – I’m just playing around with your butt!”

He kept groaning and grinding. “OK – just don’t fuck me!”

Neither one of us could last much longer. He gave a quick thrust and stopped. I jiggled the head of my dick faster.

“Clayton, this is hot, this is hot!” I came.

Clayton began his circular grinding again. He grunted out a short “Uhh! Uhh!” He came.

We were still and quiet. I lifted myself up and off the bed. Without speaking I handed him some tissues from the writing table to wipe my cum off his ass. I wiped my dick a little and put my skivvies on. He rolled off the bed and grabbed some tissues for his own dick. The sheets were a mess. We looked at each other.

“I’ve never done anything like that before, Clayton.”

“Me either. I’ve just jacked off with other guys. I never did anything like this.”

More quiet. More staring.

“Do you want to do it again sometime?” he asked me.

“I don’t know. I’ve got to think about it. But after you get dressed, you’re going to have to go down to the laundry room and take care of my sheets!”

“Yeah, all right, all right,” he said with a half-smile. He pulled his clothes on, yanked the sheets off my bed and headed down to the laundry room. I sat in my skivvies on the chair in front of the writing desk wondering if I were queer.

I tried to think of anything that might have happened to me when I was growing up that might have made me enjoy what we had just done. The only thing I came up with was a brief scene when I was about 7 or 8 and going to swim classes. I went with other neighborhood kids, about 3 or 4 girls and one other boy, Timmy. One of our mothers would usually take us. After our swim lessons we were supposed to shower and change back into our street clothes. I remembered one time when Timmy wasn’t there. I was showering by myself when one of the swim instructors came into the shower. He seemed like an adult to me, but he must have been just a high school kid working a summer job.

We would always start our showers wearing our swim trunks, then take them off and wring them out and finish showering without them. I had already removed my trunks when the instructor came in to the shower. I was a little taken aback. I was uncomfortable with the idea of him taking his trunks off in front of me. Mainly, I remember thinking that he would have hair around his penis and balls and I didn’t want to see that.  Then he turned his back to me to pull his trunks off, which relieved me. “OK” I thought. “I won’t see his hairy penis.”

Being a swim instructor, he had a dark tan and when he stepped out of his trunks his gleaming white ass stood in contrast to his otherwise smooth, brown skin. That’s where my memory stopped. I had no recollection of what happened after that point. But I did remember liking the look of his pale butt and his sharply defined tan line.

I also thought about the consequences if Clayton and I were to get caught. This was well before “don’t ask, don’t tell” and we would certainly be dishonorably discharged if we were found out. We could even be sent to the brig!

Just about then, Clayton bounded in from the laundry room.

“I got the sheets going in the washer,” he said. “So, do you think we could do something like this again?”

Clayton didn’t seem to have any of the reservations I was experiencing. In fact, he sounded downright enthusiastic!

“Clayton, you’re just going to have to give me some time. This is new to me. Let me think about it.”


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