Date: Sun, 23 Dec 2007 04:54:21 -0600 From: FD Campbell Subject: A Marine Called Jason, Part II (Revised) This is a story of sex between adult male members of the MILITARY, specifically about the deep bonding between a Marine and a Navy SEAL who find comfort and more with each other in the lonely world of death and destruction that was Vietnam, and the tragedy that separates them. All legal disclaimers apply. If this topic offends you, do not read any further; and ask yourself why you are at this site. If you are under the age of 18 (21 in some areas) and too young to be reading such material or if you are in a locale or country where it is not legal to read such material then please leave immediately and come back when it is legal for you to do so. We'll be glad to have you back. This is a work of fiction, or more correctly, fictionalized fact. The author was never in Vietnam but many of the incidents as much of the emotion for another soldier are very read. Still, sny resemblance to actual events or locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental, although it is loosely based on real events and people. It took a lot out of me to write it; I hope you like it. The story is in no way meant to disrespect, demean, discredit or dishonor the men serving in uniform. On the contrary, the author has the greatest respect and admiration for our men in the military and it is the author's belief that men should be allowed to serve their country honorably, protecting all freedoms, including their own freedom to be who they are. If you meet the criteria then read on, enjoy, and kindly let me know what you think. On the sites that provide for you to rate the stories or leave comments, I value your thoughts and opinion; I would also like to hear from you personally. Personal stories and accounts of your own similar experiences are always welcome. Contact me at Peterbilt222@hotmail.com A Marine Called Jason Part Two (Revised) The day Jason was to be released from the hospital for duty I made arrangements for a pass so we could slip away and meet at the hotel. We decided to skip Toby's till later. I knew he would be ready for me. Long overdue, actually...and I was dam ready for him. I had visions of him fucking me like crazy the whole damned night, and working in a couple of suck sessions even though he was always hot for my ass. He never understood the pleasure I got from sucking his cock, or how I developed such a taste for his come; he only knew that I loved it. I was crushed when I arrived at the hospital to find him gone. I rushed down to the nurse's station. There was a different orderly on duty; one I'd never met. "Hey, there was a Navy SEAL in room...down the hall...name was Seaborne." "He was released. Two guys from his unit came to pick him up." I could barely control my emotions. I left the hospital and walked along the streets, oblivious of the bustling nightlife around me. Godd, I felt so empty. I spent the next few weeks in limbo, worrying, praying, wondering. I did my job because that's what I was trained to do but I felt like a zombie. There had been long absences before but I had a feeling about this one. Every prisoner they brought in, I wondered if Jason had been the one to capture him. I dug out a picture I had of Jason and used it in my interrogations, showing it to the prisoner to see if there was any reaction. None of them seemed to recognize him. I spent more than my share of time at Toby's, waiting, praying that he would show up, praying more that he was all right. Surely, he would contact my unit, but still, I sat at the bar in Toby's and drank myself into a numbness that would let me sleep. Despite my concern for Jason, or maybe because of it, I was getting hard-up, and my mind wandered to Steve, the young sailor I had broken in. I asked Toby about him. "I had to kick him out," Toby said. "He was coming onto guys, shit, acting like a two-bit whore. Some guy decked him for making a pass at him. I told him not to come back." Then he must have realized my reason for asking. "Look, I don't usually do this, but if you're interested...," he said glancing discreetly down the bar. I looked down the bar to see a burly Army sergeant sipping beer from a bottle and watching the goings-on behind him in the mirror. "Are you sure?" I asked, with a sudden tingling in my loins. "I mean, I wouldn't wanta have that guy deck me." "Would I steer you wrong?" Toby said. The guy was big; maybe fifty pounds bigger than me or Jason, with a thick bull neck and huge arms sticking out of his uniform shirt. I guessed him to be about forty; old enough to be my dad. I had never had any such thoughts about my dad, and I was surprised at the tremor of perverted excitement that went through me. "I've never seen him in here before," I said. "He just arrived in country a couple of weeks ago." "He's damned intimidating," I said. "He can be, so I hear," Toby said. "Have you ever been with him?" I asked. "No," he said with a surprised scowl. "I could count on one hand the number of guys I've been with who come in here, and even those, I didn't meet here. Its just not good business." "He's old enough to be my dad," I observed. I had never talked like that, so openly, with Toby, nor had he ever been so open with me, but by that time, he knew about me and Jason. "If you can't get past the age difference," Toby said with a shrug. "I wouldn't know how to meet him," I said, quick enough that Toby could tell that age wasn't a major factor. In fact, it was sort of intriguing to me. "How does he operate?" Toby laughed, shaking his head. "Shit, you're acting like a high school virgin trying to attract the attention of the quarterback for prom." "It's not been that long since I was a high school virgin," I said. "I've done all I can do for you. You're on your own," Toby said, holding up both hands in a defensive gesture. I wished he would at least introduce us, but that would look weird. I didn't think offering to buy the guy a beer would go over too well either. The longer I sat there, the hotter the guy looked; and setting Jason aside for the moment, I was horny for some hard, hot sex and this big stud looked like he could deliver. But he wasn't acting like he was interested, not in me nor anybody else in the place. I was beginning to wonder if Toby was off base. Then I got my break when he waved Toby over. "Get me another cold one," he said. "And set one up for everybody at the bar." "Yes, sir, sergeant," Toby said. So maybe that was how the guy operated, except that there were three other guys at the bar besides him and me, so there was no reason to believe that he was buying me a beer for any particular reason. While Toby was setting cold beers up on the bar and telling everybody it was from the sergeant at the end of the bar, the sergeant pulled out a wad of money and slapped it on the bar, then slid off the stool and headed for the restroom. I didn't need Toby's cue when he glanced at me. It was a pretty common way to meet up with someone but it was all I knew to do. I headed for the restroom. He was standing at the urinal, his thick thighs spread apart, his big hard butt flexed inside his pants. He took up dam near the space of two urinals but I managed to squeeze into the third one, standing to his right. "Hey, thanks for the beer," I said. "Yeah, no problem," he said. I tried to keep my eyes fixed on the graffiti on the wall in front of me. I dared a couple of furtive glances within my peripheral vision but that didn't reveal much because the sergeant held his cock in his right hand. I felt myself breaking out in a sweat, panicked that he would walk out of the restroom without us making connections. "Toby said you just got in country," I said. "Yeah, third tour," he said. "No kidding! Wow! How come they keep bringing you back?" "I come back on my own," he said as he gave his cock a few jerks. Then, without rhyme or reason, he switched hands to put his cock away. "After awhile, the place starts feeling like home," he went on as he pulled his fly apart with his right hand and put his meat away with his left. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Fuck, even hanging, he was big around as a beer can. Hard, it was going to be the size of a ball bat. "You married?" I asked. "Not anymore," he said. "Hard to find a woman to put up with a guy going all over the world to fight somebody else's battles." "You were in Korea?" I asked. "Yep. Once in the middle of it, and again with the peace-keeping forces," he said. "Look, son, the urinal ain't no place to tell war stories," he added, sounding rather impatient. "Could I join you at the bar?" I asked. "Okay with me." When we returned, I got my beer and went back to sit beside the sergeant. "Sgt. Randall," he said, putting out his hand. "Brad Courter, Marines," I said. "Well, somebody's gotta be second best," he drawled. I didn't take offense at his remark. He wasn't the type to put down any branch of the service. Things were looking up. I started asking questions about his military. He didn't volunteer anything but he answered my questions. "You said you weren't married anymore. How long were you married?" I asked. "About eighteen years." "That's a long time for it to break up," I said. "Like I said, she couldn't handle it. The straw that broke the camel's back was when my son enlisted. She blamed me for that. She could be right; he was always one to try to follow in my footsteps." "Nothing wrong with that," I said. "Depends on where my footsteps take him," he said "Did he join the Army?" "Yeah. He's over here," he said. "No Shit! Where? Is he in your outfit?" "No. He's up north someplace. I never know where, for sure." "Have you seen him since you came in country?" I asked. "We had a chance to have a beer together right after I got here, before he shipped up north. Haven't seen him since." "I don't know, I would like to say it would be neat as hell, being over here with your dad, but I guess for you, its got its downside. I'll bet you wish he was in your outfit so you could look out for him." "He's a Ranger. He don't need me to look out for him," he said. "Wow! I guess he don't. You must be proud as hell." "I am. I just wish his mother was." I was thoroughly enjoying talking to the man but there was still the itch in my balls that made me squirm on the stool, just being close to the guy. Friendly as he was, I didn't know how to get anything started. There was still the dad image for me, and maybe he was looking at me like his son. "You ready for another beer?" he asked. "Yeah, but let me buy," I said. "I still got money I need to get rid of. Reenlistment bonus," he said. When he twisted around on his stool to flag Toby, his knee came against my thigh. I didn't pull away and he didn't either. "For everybody again?" Toby asked. "Nope. Just me and him." Nursing the second beer, every time one of us twisted or turned on our stool, our legs would touch. We didn't exactly play kneesies but we didn't go out of our way to not touch. "I don't know about you, but I've had my limit," he said as he down the rest of his beer. "Yeah, me too." "You doing anything after here?" he asked, and this time, letting his knee rest firmly against my thigh. "No." "Do you know the Trent?" he asked. "Yes," I said, surprised. "I've got a room there. Number 216. Come on up if you want to. I'll pick up a six-pack and we can drink ourselves into a stupor." "I'll pass on the stupor," I said. "Give me five minutes head start," he said. Ordinarily, despite the itching desire, I wouldn't have gone with him. There was no way of knowing if it was set-up. But Toby had vouched for him and I felt safe. And excited. He left and I nursed my beer for a few minutes. "No go, huh?" Toby said quietly as he picked up the empty bottle off the bar. "On the contrary," I said. "It's none of my business, but what do you want me to tell Jason if he shoes up?" "Tell him I was in, then left. Try to find out when he's coming into Saigon again." The mention of Jason gave me pause about going to meet Sgt. Randall. If I left and Jason showed up...but then, I could wait all night. Shameful to say, but it was a case of a bird in the hand. Excited as I was, I took my time walking to the Trent. I went in the back way, took the stairs that led up behind the storeroom where the desk clerk couldn't see. I often wondered why they left the back door open, but I guess it was conducive to their business. I tapped lightly on 216 and a gruff voice told me it was open. "Slide the bolt," the sergeant said as I came in. He was taking off his shirt, and I fumbled behind me for the bolt so I wouldn't have to take my eyes off of him. His T-shirt was stretched to the limit over his upper body. His chest muscles stuck out in two wide, thick slabs and his big nipples protruded against the thin material. The sleeves were stretched around his huge biceps and I could see his stomach muscles ripple when he moved. "Which field do you play on?" he asked. "Huh?" "What position do you play?" he asked. I finally caught on. "Any field, any position," I said. "You're my kind of ball player," he said. "I wasn't sure, back at the bar," I said. "Go ahead, strip down," he said as he crossed his arms and tugged his T-shirt out of his pants. His lats spread out like the wings when he peeled the shirt off over his head his pecs settled on his rib cage with a little bounce when he lowered his arms. I couldn't help comparing him with Jason. He was heavier muscled than Jason and more hairy, with a thick mat of dark hair on his chest, a lighter flurry on his stomach and a dark trail separating the bricks of his ab muscles, leading into the waist of his pants. "Dam, I'll bet nobody gives you any shit," I said, openly admiring his bare upper body. I watched him undo his belt, his triceps and pecs snapping to attention. "I don't mind you looking, but I'd like for you to give me something to look at too," he said. Yeah, I was staring. I quickly pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside. "Fuckin' nice," he said with an admiring look. "I'm a lot smoother than you," remarked. "Not a problem," he said as he bent over to unlace his combat boots. He pulled them off then pulled off his pants and hung them over the back of the chair. The waistband of his white briefs pulled down in the front, under the weight of his manhood, and the pouch shifted from side to side and bounced when he moved. I could hardly wait to see him naked. I was surprised when he put his boots back on and tied them up, then pulled his shorts off. Fuck, he looked awesome standing there naked except for his boots. His thighs were massive, coated with a light flurry of hair that thinned out and faded a little as it spread over his hard, heavy-muscled butt. "For the record, I only play offense," he said. "Yes, sir, coach," I said. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant but I thought he was telling me that he was going to be in charge. Whatever, I wasn't going to argue with him. When he turned around facing me, I got an eyeful. He was hard, standing up at an angle, throbbing and quivering with each throb. "Holy shit," I swore softly, mentally comparing him with Jason, who set the standard for studliness. Jason was big; the biggest I'd ever seen, and Randall didn't match him in length; seven inches, maybe eight, but he had the thickest cock I'd ever seen. Fuck, it was bigger around than a beer can; more like the big end of a ball bat. I felt my asshole tighten at the mere thought of the guy trying to fuck me. But he'd said he was playing offense, which likely meant that I was going to get fucked, like it or not. Not that I minded terribly; I was just scared. The sergeant laughed at my outburst at his cock. "That don't scare you, does it?" he asked "No, I...I just never expected to see anything so big; so big around. It looks as big as my wrist." "Let's see," he said, reaching for my arm. He clamped his hand around my wrist to get a measurement between his thumb and forefinger. He had big hands, and there wasn't much distance between them. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock. "Shit!" I swore. "It's bigger than my wrist!" "Not much." Maybe the inch and a half that separated his thumb and forefinger wasn't much to him, but it calculated out to one huge cock. That wasn't counting the big, bluish veins scattered all around the surface that were going to take up room. Still, I was excited, and I saw the excitement in his eyes as I peeled my shorts off and stood naked before him. Right away, he let me know that he was the boss, the coach, on defense. He clasped his big hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees. I swallowed hard, wondering how the hell I was going to handle it, let alone do it justice. He clamped his hands around my head so I would know what I was expected to do. I wet my lips and opened my mouth as far as I could; so far I thought my jaws might lock. I spread my lips around the curvature of the head, washing the precome off with my tongue. He tasted good. I stretched my lips the rest of the way around the head and locked them around the gristly rim, and my mouth was full. I went through the motions of sucking him, but there was too much cock to do it right. "I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna be able to suck you like I want to," I said. "You were doing fine with your tongue. I like tongue," he said. He locked his hands around my head again and began fucking my mouth. I wrapped one hand around the shaft of his cock to control his thrusts. If he got carried away, or went sadistic on me, and slammed his cock into my throat, I was dead meat. "What we're gonna do is, I'm gonna blow you a load to get primed, then I'm gonna fuck you," he said. Okay, I thought. Who was I to argue with him; he was the coach. But I was scared out of my wits about being skewered on his big cock. After awhile my jaws adjusted and I was able to suck him better. I think part of it was adding to my excitement by running my hands up and down his massive thighs, and feeling his thick pec muscles, but I still couldn't get much more than half of his cock in my mouth. I loved his body, though. He left no doubt that he was the coach. He pulled his cock free and turned around with his butt in my face. He had a great ass; big and heavy and hard, and hairy; a lot more hairy than Jason's. He grabbed my head and smashed my face in his butt. When my tongue made contact, he reached back and pulled his butt apart, exposing the hairy pit with his hole hidden somewhere at the bottom. I whinnied with excitement from having to search through the hair to find his hole. I found it and tongued his ass for awhile then he turned around and fed me his cock again. "I didn't tell you, but you're gonna swallow my load," he said. I nodded in obedience without missing a lick. It never entered my mind to take his load in my mouth then spit it out. Besides, his precome tasted good and I hoped his come would, too. He didn't tell me when he was ready to go off but I could tell. His big butt muscles trembled and flexed hard in my hands and his powerful thighs trembled. His cock was like a cannon. It swelled out and got hard as steel, then bolted and bucked in my mouth, then went off. I was nearly jolted backwards by the power of his load shooting out the thick barrel. The second blast filled my mouth and the third was running out the corners of my mouth. "Swallow," he ordered. I gulped it down and swallowed as fast as he gave it to me. He didn't come as much as Jason, but it was thick, and I could smash the globs between my tongue and his cock. He didn't linger, maybe because his legs were shaking so bad. He pulled out and cupped his hands under my arms and pulled me to my feet; actually he lifted me off my feet. He went to the bed and stretched out on his side, moving over to make room for me. I saw a small tube of lube that he'd slipped under the pillow. When I joined him on the bed, he pushed me onto my stomach but then tilted my head up and kissed me. It was a hard, passionate kiss; not a tender passion, but the passion of one man for another. In his case, it was more lust than passion. I kissed him back, just as hard. I thought he was going to suck my tongue out. At the same he was playing with my butt, rough, squeezing my butt muscles so hard it hurt, but I didn't complain. He broke the kiss and stuck his fingers in my mouth. "Give me some spit," he said. He used his slick fingers to probe my ass. He wasn't brutal, but he wasn't gentle either about shoving his long, thick finger deep in my ass. I wondered why he didn't use the lube. "Aawooohhh," I cried softly when he found my prostate. He twisted his finger around, stretching my hole. Then he gave me a second finger, and a third. He shoved hard, till I thought he might try to shove his entire fist inside me. I reached for the lube. Scared as I was, I wanted to feel that big cock boring into me, but I was also half afraid that he might try to fist fuck me. "Ah, you're ready for it," he said, laughing softly, when I held the uncapped tube out to him. "Yes. I know you're the coach, but your boy wants that big cock," I said. "Yeah...my boy," he said huskily. "Wish it was my boy," he added, his voice sort of trailing off. I didn't know what to make of his remark. Was he wishing that it was his own son lying here beside him, about to be fucked by his own dad? The idea jolted me a little, but excited it me, too. "I'll be your boy for now," I offered. Not that I'd ever had any such thoughts about my father, but suddenly, in the heat of the moment, it excited me to think of him as a dad. Fuckin' weird, but I couldn't help it. "Yeah, let's get this all nice and slick for you, son," he said, as he lubed up his cock then worked his fingers around inside me. The more I tried to psyche myself up for it, the more scared I got. He was going to tear me apart. I don't know if he sensed my fear, but when he moved on top of me, he clamped one hand over my mouth. "Spread your legs out more," he said. I did as he said, offering myself for the slaughter. His cock spread my butt muscles apart then I felt the heat of it against my hole, then felt the pressure behind it. He gave me a few nudges then bore down, hard and unrelenting. I tried to relax, and felt my asshole give, and the next instant he burst through the tight sphincter muscle and sank his cock all the way to his balls. I reared up, wide-eyed from the pain, clenching my butt muscles hard against the intruder. It hurt so bad I couldn't even cry out. I think I might have screamed but there was no sound; I just felt it reverberate in my head. I saw stars, then blackness hovering over me; Godd, it hurt! For the first time, if I could have, I think I would've tried to get away, but he had me pinned so tight I couldn't move. "Hang in there, son, it's gonna start feeling good in a minute," he said. My asshole clenched angrily around the thick intruder and thankfully, I could feel the pain gradually subside. His cock was like a steel bar inside me, rubbing against my prostate each time it throbbed, and that massage effect soon emerged over the pain, and finally subdued it. When he could see that I was calming down he removed his hand from my mouth. "Feeling better, huh?" he said, hovering over me like a giant. "It's not hurting...so bad," I conceded nervously, but I kept my butt muscles clenched tight as I could. "It'd be a lot easier on you if you relax your butt muscles," he said. I tried and the sergeant bore down harder, twisting his hips around, causing his cock to lob around inside me. He picked up on my moans and eased his cock out a few inches. I groaned louder when he shoved it back in. It felt like he was splitting me apart with his cock. "I'm gonna fuck you now," he said as he pulled all the way out then plunged back through my hole. "Awwhhh," I cried softly. He did it again, and again, till I was anticipating the plunge, even lifting my butt up to meet his thrusting cock. Then he drove in hard and deep and began fucking me. "Relax your butt muscles so I can get in deeper," he said. I followed the sergeant's orders and he skewered me deeper. I was mesmerized by the big man hovered over me, driving his huge cock into my body. He slid his powerful arms under my armpits to get a grip on my shoulders then let his weight down on me. I loved his hairy chest against my back, and the feel of his hairy thighs rubbing against mine. He was a magnificent man and I found myself wondering what his son looked like. I don't know how long he fucked me. He seemed to just go on and on, without any visible effort of trying to hold off. I wondered if this was part of the reason he wasn't married anymore, if perhaps his wife wasn't able to accommodate his size on a regular basis, or hold up under the incessant pounding of his cock. As for me, he had me on the verge of coming almost from the start. His cock was so big that no nerve ending could escape the steady friction and my prostate was under siege with every thrust and throb. I didn't try to hold off. I ached to let it go, and it felt like I might explode from the pressure building up inside me. "I wanta come," I gasped finally. "I have to come, sir, I can't stand it; I feel like I'm going to explode. Please, sergeant, make me come." He didn't say anything. He just kept fucking me, except he would throw in a twist and turn with his hips and corkscrew his cock into me. He was playing hell with my prostate, and I was about to go berserk with my face buried in the pillow. He built me up then leveled off; then took me a little higher, and leveled off again. Suddenly, he raised up and put one arm around my stomach to pull me up to my hands and knees. I could feel the cool breeze of the fan against my sweaty back. "You wanta come?" he said, clamping his big hands around my hipbones in a vise-like grip. "Yes, sir, sergeant, please, you're driving me crazy. You can fuck me again, but please, just let me come." He shoved my legs apart with his knees, which forced my hips up and my butt at a tilt, and started fucking me. "Ohh, Goddd," I groaned, tossing my head back, as his cock found new territory inside me. I could feel his sweat dripping onto my butt, and the room resounded with the loud smack-smack-smack of his hard loins against my ass. Next, he took a vise-like grip on my shoulders and began pounding me like a jack-hammer. He fucked me so hard and fast that I was afraid the bed might collapse. I couldn't breath; he didn't give me time to breath. All I could do was hang onto the steel frame of the headboard and pray for a climax. Finally, it happened. The sensation of exquisite ecstasy overtook me and I suddenly felt like I was imploding and exploding at the same time. I started to cry out but quickly buried my face in the pillow to stifle it. I choked and groaned and nearly sobbed as my climax wracked my body, only vaguely aware of the great ropes of hot semen streaking up across my chest and the back of my arms. I was more aware of the sergeant blowing his load inside me; the heat, the power, of being filled with his come. And at some point, his meaty fist wrapping around my cock to jack me off with my own come that he used as lube. Maybe I blacked out for a minute, I didn't know. I only know that I opened my eyes to his rugged, handsome face hovered beside mine, smiling with a trace of concern. "You okay, son?" he asked. "I think so," I gasped breathlessly. "You sure emptied the tanks," he said. "Shit, you come like a pony." I shoved my knees back to lie flat on the bed, and Sgt. Randall rested his considerable weight on top of me. I tightened my asshole around his cock to see if it still worked and to see if his cock was still in me. "Am I too heavy? Want me to pull out?" he asked. "No, you don't have to. This is fine," I said. I couldn't lie under his weight very long. When I squirmed under him he raised up, slowly extracting his thick cock from my ass. He left a hole gaping so wide that I could feel the cool breeze up inside me. I tried to clench my hole but it didn't close. Over the next few hours he really got into calling me son when he fucked me and force-fed me his cock and referring to himself as dad, but I couldn't tell if he was really thinking of me as his own son, or if it was just a term between an older and younger guy. I definitely got the impression that he was comparing me with him. I decided I loved having sex with an older man, but there was just something too perverted about calling him, or even thinking of him as my dad. "You got a picture of your son?" I asked as we were getting dressed. He finished zipping up his pants then dug a picture out of his wallet and handed it to me. "Dam! You're right, he don't need anybody looking out for him," I said. He was a ruggedly handsome, square jawed and steely eyes, a muscular neck and face. He looked tough. "He's the kind of guy you want covering your back," the sergeant said. "I'm sure glad he's on our side," I said. Yeah, I would definitely like for him to cover my back, I thought. "I'll be he left some broken hearts back home," I said. "I hope you get to meet up with him again." I left the hotel alone, barely in time to make it back to base. My legs were shaking and I was walking funny. It felt like somebody had pulled a ball bat out of my ass and left a big, gaping hole. I admit, I looked for him every time I went back to Toby's, but Toby said he had been shipped out to another unit to train the Vietnamese. I was beginning to sink into a state of depression over Jason. Toby was good about keeping tabs on everybody, and he hadn't heard a word of his whereabouts. At first I prayed but then abandoned the effort. After that I cried. Yeah, more than one night, this big, tough Marine cried in his bunk. Then out of the blue, I got a call at the orderly room from Toby! I gasped when I heard his voice, and a hard pressure in my chest cut off my air. "What's up?" I managed to ask. "Good news," he said. I let the air gush out of my lungs in a great sigh of relief, and stifled my sob of happiness and relief. "Is he...there?" I asked. "No, but somebody from his unit was in, and he's all right." "Where the hell has he been?" I asked. "Went someplace for some special training, for a special mission of some kind." "Geezuss, they've got him so highly trained now, he can carry a bayonet in his ass," I said. "The guy delivered a message from him, for you; said he would be getting in touch as soon as he could." I bit my lip, trying to fight down my emotions over the phone. "Thanks, Toby," I said. "Yeah," he said. "You okay, buddy?" "I am now," I said. I wasn't. I could barely keep my composure till I got back to my bunk. When I did, I crawled under the blankets and cried. I didn't sit around the barracks waiting for a call. Sometimes the Army's communications wasn't that good. I was at Toby's every night. Lenient as the CO was, the first sergeant reminded me that I was abusing my pass privileges. Then one night I walked in the door at Toby's and there he was, sitting at the bar, at the same stool, like it had been reserved for him. I stopped cold in my tracks at the door. I couldn't go in. I couldn't face him; not in the bar. I choked up just seeing him. I wasn't sure he had seen me, but Toby saw me just as I turned to walk away. I walked hurriedly to the park across the street and made my way down the winding paths that bordered the small ponds, to a bench hidden by the trees. I sat down and hunched over and began sobbing so hard I thought my heart would rip loose. The son of a bitch, didn't he know how much I loved him? I pondered going back into Toby's, but thought better of it. I was in no condition, and I would be lousy company. Finally, I washed my face in the pond, and feeling down trodden and empty, I headed back to the barracks. The bustle around me helped ease the hurt, at least for the walk back. Saigon was like that; intoxicating. I walked up to the guard shack to show my pass. "You're back early," the guard said, handing it back to me. He was used to seeing me come in barely before my pass expired. Not that it would have made any difference. Like I said, I was in good standing with the CO. "Yeah, I'm beat. Too many nights out in a row," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I stepped out of the shack and walked toward the gate. "Hey, buddy." I think I froze in my tracks at the sound of his voice. I know it took me seconds to turn toward him. There he was, sitting on the edge of the wide stone and mortar base of the fence where the heavy steel posts were embedded. I walked over to him, too breathless to speak. "Toby said you left," he said. "How come you left?" I turned my head away. I couldn't look at him. I was afraid if I did, he wouldn't be there when I looked back. "I went looking for you. Couldn't find you, so I figured I would wait here," he said as he stood up. My heart was pounding and my lungs didn't seem to work and there was an awful pressure building up in my chest. I was about to explode with emotions that would prove embarrassing to both of us. "Okay, maybe I shouldn't have come," he said quietly, talking low so the guard wouldn't overhear. I think he was embarrassed that it might look like we were having a lovers' quarrel. "I was...in the park, across the street," I said as I raised my head and looked at him. Our eyes met and I could see the bewilderment in his. The poor guy, he didn't know what the hell was wrong and I couldn't tell him. Suddenly, I shoved past him and walked several yards down the street in front of the compound. I heard him say something to the guard then heard his footsteps, catching up to me. "Hey, you might need this," he said, handing me my pass. I took the pass and stuffed it in my shirt pocket and kept walking. We walked for over a block without saying anything. I wanted to get somewhere, be someplace where I could let it all out if I couldn't control it. "You wanta tell me what the fuck is going on?" Jason asked in a gruff, impatient voice. "I don't know if I can explain it so you would understand," I said in a surly tone. I crossed the street, walking toward the park, and Jason followed me. "Try me," he said. We ducked under the low hanging trees that all but hid the entrance to the back of the park. I found a secluded spot with a bench beside another small pond. I stood looking down at the pond for a long moment. "Look, if I've fucked up, you gotta at least give me a chance," Jason said. I turned to face him squarely. "You didn't fuck up. I'm the one who's fucked up. I get fucked up every time you leave and go back out there, to wherever it is you go, and I don't know where you're at or when you're coming back, or if you're coming back." "None of us knows that," he cut in. "The day you were discharged from the hospital, I went to meet you...I had a pass, and a room." "Geez, I'm sorry. But I couldn't help it. There were two guys there to pick me up, there wasn't time to see you or leave word." "I know," I said with a sigh. "Well, hey, I'm back, for what its worth," he said I started to laugh, but choked on my emotions instead. I thought I had them buried, but they came up again like vomit. He didn't see it at first. He asked me again how come I left Toby's and that's when I lost it. I sat on the bench, hunched over with my face in my hands, and I lost it. I didn't feel a bit bad about crying, or embarrassed when Jason sat down and put his arm across my shoulder. GIs cry all the time. If anybody happened by, they would just think I had lost a buddy. "Geezuss, Brad, what the hell...?" "You stupid fuck, you don't have a clue what its worth for you to be back," I managed. "When I started to walk into Toby's and say you there...shit, I worried day and night and tried to tell myself that you were okay, and when I saw you sitting there, I was so fuckin' relieved and happy, I...I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it." His arm tightened across my shoulder, in a gesture of compassion that I'd never seen before. He held me till I was settled down, without saying a word. I don't know what I expected him to say. Nothing, really. It was enough to just have his strong arm on my shoulder. "I'll do my best to make it up to you, if you'll let me," he said in a hoarse voice. It sounded like he was choked up himself. "You don't owe me anything," I said. "It's this war. This fuckin' war keeps getting in the way and screwing things up." We were leaving the Trent Hotel the next morning to part ways and return to our units when we came across a vender selling newspapers, sounding almost hysterical. I bought one to see what was going on. Hell, maybe the war was over. I must've gone pale when I saw the headline. "Shit, look at this! Dhin has been assassinated!" I handed the paper to Jason. Jason took the paper to read the story. He looked pale. We didn't know what impact it would have but of course it was big. "Geezuss!" he swore softly and dropped the paper like it was hot. "What?" I asked. "Qui Nhon," he said in a whisper. "I was at Qui Nhon." I looked at him, confused. He leaned against the side of the building for support. "Jason, what's the matter?" "I took him out," he said quietly, staring blankly at me. "What?" "I shot the fuckin' president of Viet Nam." Now I was numb. News that a politician had been blown away wasn't particularly devastating to me, or even news at all for more than a day or two, but this was the president of the country, and Jason was saying he had done it! "What're you talking about? They said you were sent someplace for special training." "And they just happened to have an assignment for me....another target.... something that just came up, they said, and since I was there. The fuckers set me up. They used me as their assassin." "You didn't know?" "No. All they told me was that hey told me he was very big.....a VC general.....and I shouldn't miss." "How do you know it was Dhin?" "They had my position already picked out for me, down to the precise spot. Shit, man, a sniper always picks his own location. His entourage came down this narrow road and stopped in a small clearing and this so-called general got out of his vehicle......" He leaned down and picked up the paper and studied the photo. "But how do you know it was Dhin and not the VC general like they said?" I asked. "Hell, I didn't even know what the guy looked like till now." "I had him in my scope. I had his face right here," he said, holding his hand a few inches from his face. He looked down at the photo again. "It was that man's face. And the colonel told me when I reported back; `this mission never happened.'" We stood there for a moment, both of us reeling in disbelief. "Hey, if somebody decided the needed to be taken out........," I said. "Don't you understand, dammit? I killed the president of a country!" he blurted. "That makes me a political assassin. My next payday, I will be getting paid as a political assassin." "Okay, you pulled the trigger. It was your steady finger, you sharp eye, your steel nerves, your brass balls, but you didn't pick the target. Somebody at the top did that. It makes you a Navy SEAL doing your job, following orders, not an assassin. What if you had known? Would you have refused to do it?' "I don't know. No....if somebody decided he needed to go, I couldn't refuse to follow the order." He started walking. I caught up and threw my arm across his shoulder. "You gotta deal with this, Jason," I said. "They fuckin' used me, dammit! The training was a farce. Fuck, I didn't need training, I'm the best they've got; they knew I was the best they could find to do the job. They brought me to Qui Nhon for the sole purpose of carrying out an assassination." "Okay, you're going to take out the President Dhim. You know it; they tell you up front. What's different?" "Well, for starters, I would've been so nervous, I probably would've missed," he said, half laughing. "Shit, if there was any chance of that they wouldn't have sent for you. Shit, you'll probably get a medal." "Didn't you read the story? He was shot, ambushed by unknown assailants. They don't give medals to unknown assailants. Besides, it didn't happen, remember? I shouldn't even be talking to you about it." "Well, you probably shouldn't mention it to anyone else," I said. We were at the intersection where we had to part ways. I almost offered to walk him a little further in his direction but it wasn't an appropriate thing to do for a SEAL. "Get some sleep when you get back," I told him. "Yeah." "When will you be back in town?" I asked. "I'll call you when I get back in," he said. "You're going out again, right away?" "It's what I do," he said. "You know sometimes I think I gotta feel your balls just to see how big and hard they are." "Not here," he said, laughing. Chapter Six Too much time passed and Jason didn't show up at Toby's and I never heard from him. Night after night I went to Toby's to see if he was there or if he'd been there. Meanwhile, there was talk of Americans crossing over into Thailand and Cambodia and Laos. He could be anywhere. One night Toby handed me an envelope along with my beer. "What's this?" I asked. "I was supposed to give this to you after he was gone for three weeks." "It's from.......?" Toby nodded. I took a long drink of beer then tried to open the envelope. Toby finally took it and opened it for me. My hands shook as I took the paper out of the envelope. Hey, Buddy. Don't Panic! This doesn't mean I bought the farm or anything. It only means I'm not back yet for whatever reason, and there're some personal details I want you to be aware of. You know that we always have to leave a letter behind when we go out on a mission, sort of a last will and testament; a final letter to be given to next of kin or a buddy or somebody who gives a shit. I've put it off too many times, and the LT has been riding my ass about it. So am hereby designating that if comes down to it, that letter will is to be given to you, because you give a shit about me. All you have to do is make yourself known to my CO and show him this letter. Among other things you'll have to collect my personal shit. You can do whatever you want with it; there's nobody back home who would want much of anything I've got. Also my GI life insurance is made out to you. No strings, do whatever you want with it. Except, I want you to buy Ling something. Damm, she was the best damned piece of ass I ever had when I needed it the most! (Well...maybe not the best!) So, having said that, you certainly deserve the rest. This is not good-bye; it's a "hey" to tell you shit I should have told you a long time ago but we never got around to talking much about serious shit. If anybody asks, I am damned proud to be Navy SEAL. I am damned proud of who I am and what I do. Okay, I guess they will let you know if and when the time comes. Meanwhile, we need to assume that I've simply been relocated somewhere and I just can't tell you where. I'll see you when I can. When I get back I want us to both go see Ling together. But hey, you don't have to wait on me! I love you, Brother. Your Buddy, Jason My hand was still shaking as I gazed at the letter, the words now a blur on the page. "Do you need something stronger?" Toby asked as he shoved a beer glass in front of me and poured it half full of Jack Daniels. I handed him the letter. "Do you want me to read it?" he asked. I nodded. He held it down to read it by the light under the bar. "I didn't know he had to leave a final letter behind when he went out," I said. "It stands to reason," Toby said. He finished reading the letter then folded it and put it back in the envelope. He slid it across the bar. "He's just telling you stuff he put off telling you before," he said. "Is he?" "Well, yeah. He gets relocated all the time." "I'm going to try to believe that." "Promise me something," Toby said. "What?" "I want you to come in here every night you can get a pass, just so I know you're okay. And to be here when he walks through the door. I have a feeling he's going to need that, and so do you." I choked up, realizing that Toby cared about me, but more because I was scared to even wonder if Jason would ever come through the door again. I had the awful gut feeling that he was in Cambodia or Thailand or Laos. I choked up because it was the first I realized that I truly loved the guy. I know, I'd said it to him but it hit me full force now. My life began to crumble around me. I know Jason would expect me to hold it together, but I couldn't concentrate on my job and I got called into the COs office for a gentle ass-chewing. The first one was always gentle. Watch out for the second one. "You having girl problems?" he asked. "Yeah," I lied. "Its not one of the whores down on Bailey Street, is it?" "No, my girl back home." "Well, hell, that's worse," he said. "I can't give you any advice, all I can tell you is, to get your head on straight, we've got a job do. Very important work and you are one of the best I've got. I can't afford for you to go haywire on me. I'm issuing you a three-day pass to Bailey Street. Sometimes all it takes to clear a man's head is to clear his balls." "Yes, sir." I took the pass and headed for Toby's. I had to see if Jason had been in, then I would go to Bailey Street. There was no word from Jason. I didn't hang around. I headed for the Dragonfly on Bailey Street where I found Ling. She was happy to see me but she was busy. I told the madam very emphatically that I wanted Ling. She was taken aback by my tone and said she would try to arrange it. She sent me upstairs to Ling's room to wait. I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't know what the hell I was going to do with a prostitute. I hadn't been with a woman for so long, I didn't know if I even remembered how to fuck.....if I could even get a hardon for Ling. But there was a sense of obligation or something, even duty, to myself and to the Marines, and to Jason. I had to be a man, for him. I had to be the man he left, for when he came back. Ling came through the door and my breath tightened in my throat at the sight of her in that red dress. Godd, she filled it out! I felt the stirring in my loins and knew I wasn't going to have any trouble. "How is your friend?" she asked. "He's fine. Great," I said. "Where is he? Why he not come?" "He's tied up. He'll come next time." She turned for me to unzip the dress and I helped her out of it. Again, she was naked underneath. "I do this for you?" she said as she began unbuttoning my shirt. I dropped my hands to my sides and let her take my clothes off. I tried to close my eyes and imagine that it was Jason taking them off of me but her hands were too soft and gentle. I gasped when she took my cock in her mouth and longed for even the image of Jason on his knees sucking my cock into his mouth, but even the image wouldn't come. I looked down and saw Ling's tiny mouth distended around my cock like her pussy had been stretched so around Jason's thick meat. I got hard in no time and all my fears vanished. Ling urged me back on the bed and crawled up between my legs. I closed my eyes and let it happen. I'd told the madam, in an attempt to bolster my own confidence, that I wanted Ling for the whole night. She dam near killed me. She got me started and I couldn't stop. I didn't bother to count how many times I fucked her, or she fucked me, or how many loads I shot. I just knew my balls ached from being drained so dry and the backs of my thighs hurt and even my butt was sore from the exercise. I wasn't accustomed to being the fucker. When I left mid-morning the next day I got a room at the Trent Hotel. On the way in I gave the clerk some extra money and told him to have somebody bring me up some cold beer. I took a shower to wash off the stench of all night sex then stretched out on the bed. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. "Come in, its open." A boy came in carrying a six-pack. He closed the door behind him and came over to the bed, his eyes raking over my naked body. "You want...here?" he asked timidly, motioning at the nightstand beside the bed. "Yeah, there'll be fine," I said, raising up on one elbow to get the money I'd laid out for his tip. He put the money in his pocket. "I open one for you," he said as took one beer from the pack and popped the top. He handed it to me. "Anything else you want me do for you?" he asked. It was unmistakable what he had in mind, from the way he was looking at me. "No more money; I like," he said. "Okay, sure, go ahead," I said, wondering if the clerk had intentionally sent this particular boy to me. He crawled on the bed between my legs and began sucking my cock. He was good, and I appreciated the attention. I lay there under the soft breeze from the ceiling fan and watched the boy slurp and slobber and suck my cock while I sipped my beer. I took my time about working it up. He seemed grateful for the load I gave him and said he would come to my room anytime, just let the clerk know and ask for Tommy. "Yeah, thanks, I'll remember you, Tommy," I said. I sacked out for most of the rest of the day, except to get something to eat. Late in the afternoon I showered again and stretched out on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling fan while I waited for time to go over to Toby's. "Did you get word?" Toby asked with a smile as I walked up to the bar. "No. Did you?" "No, but I thought you might have, from the look on your face and the bounce in your step," he said. I laughed and took a sip of the beer he put in front of me. Just then the young sailor came up to me. The cute one....Steve. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a room at the Trent would you?" he asked in a hushed tone. "Yeah," I said with a frown. "Why?" "I've got this.....this guy, and we don't have anyplace to go, and I've spent all of my money. I don't even have cab fare back. I'm not asking you for money, I'd just like to use your room for a little bit." It was weird but I was actually thinking it over. The poor kid sounded desperate and I didn't have any specific plans for the room except to go back there and sleep after I got done at Toby's and wherever else I decided to go. "Okay, but I'll have to let you in the room." "Okay! We'll meet the guy outside," he said. "No. You guys go in the back way. I'll go in front and meet you at the room." "Okay." I watched the boy's slim, tight butt sticking out in back of his uniform and the sexy swivel-walk. I didn't know what the situation was between Steve and the other guy, but I knew what it would be if I was the one going with him. We would finish our lessons. At the hotel I picked up my key and went upstairs. I let myself in and waited at the door. I did a double-take when I saw them coming down the hall. He was another kid! I waved them inside and closed the door behind us, then turned to get a better look at the guy before I left them alone. He was typically small stature of the Vietnamese, flawlessly smooth, tanned skin, with the absolute beauty of their race. He was drop-dead cute and innocent-looking, slender but nicely built, much like the boy who had given me such a great blow-job. "How old is he?" I asked Steve with a frown. "Eighteen," he said. "Eighteen, your ass," I said. "He's more like fourteen." "No, he's got papers," Steve said. "I've got a pass," the kid said. "A pass?" I questioned. "He's in the army," Steve explained. I didn't question them further. Like I said, you can't tell their age. I started to leave. "Do you want to stay?" Steve asked. I hesitated at the door. Dam, what an invitation! Steve was cute in his own true American way, and the kid was cute in his Vietnamese way and the two of them made a perfect pair. They were made for sex, although I didn't know what kind of sex it was going to be, except that there wasn't a woman in the room. "Are you sure it's okay?" I asked. "Sure. He don't mind," said Steve. "Stay," the kid said. I stepped over and bolted the door. They were already taking off their clothes. The young soldier....Dwang was his name....was naked first. He seemed in a real big hurry. He was slim but very nicely put together. Nice pecs and incredible abs and an unbelievable little butt. I was surprised how big his cock was. From what I'd seen and a lot I'd heard, the Vietnamese males weren't overly endowed, which was the reason that Vietnamese women loved American GIs and their big cocks. Then it hit me. Dwang's looks were more chiseled and square-featured than most and it dawned on me that he was AmerAsian. His father was an American! I guess that explained his big cock. He got on the bed to wait while Steve and I got naked. Steve was next out of his clothes. I watched his compact body as he stripped. Steve was well-hung, too. Not as big as me; neither of them were, but on his stature, his cock looked plenty big. I wanted to bury my face in his wash-board abs and work my way down, but I didn't want to blow my cover; he thought I was straight. I didn't know how it was going to go down but these two guys were hot, and I got the impression that they were both hot for me. I was down to my briefs and they were on the bed watching intently, expectantly, for me to take them off. I did it slowly, like a strip, but casual as hell. I straightened and tossed my shorts aside and stood with my much bigger cock hanging out proudly. "Holy Shit!" Dwang said. "Bring that thing over here." I started to but stopped in mid-step. I was suddenly awash with guilt as I thought of Jason and wherever he was, whatever he was going through, or maybe even dead and suddenly I couldn't do it. I'd shacked with the big, burly sergeant and I'd just gotten my cock sucked by the Vietnamese boy but things were different now, after the letter. "I like to watch," I said as I backed up to the chair and sat down. "Oh, no, you're going to torture us, with that beautiful cock and we can't touch," Steve said moaned. "I'll leave if it's too much for you," I said. "No! No, don't leave. Stay and watch. It'll make things hotter if we can watch you at the same time. You're gonna jack off, at least, aren't you?" "Depends if you guys make me hot enough," I said. They did, no problem. It was weird. They watched me sitting there slowly jacking my cock more than they paid attention to each other. It was like I was the source of their lust. But Jason was the source of mine, even in his absence and I was sorry I had agreed to let them use my room; sorry that I'd let the boy suck my cock. I would have preferred to be alone with my cock and my thoughts and conjure up images of Jason from my past and jack off for him and drop a load for both of us. Steve didn't need any more fuck lessons from me. Dwang was insatiable, and wild. I think he could've taken on an entire platoon and left them for dead. He couldn't get enough cock and Steve was more than up to the challenge. Dwang begged me to let him suck my cock while Steve fucked him. I was tempted but I declined. The kid shot off three times before Steve finally came and he was still ready for more. "Fuck, you're a machine, give me a minute to rest up," Steve told him. "Or, you're going to have to come over here and take my place," he told me. "No, thanks, you guys need to leave," I said as I stood up, looking at my watch. "Oh, please, at least jack off for us," Steve begged. "I want him to see you shoot your load." "Yes, jack off and shoot your load on us," Dwang said. "Maybe some other time," I said. If I let them stay I wasn't sure I could stay out of the bed. They were disappointed but thankful for letting them use my room. I relented to Dwang's begging and let him give my cock a few slurps just before he left but I didn't let him get right down to seriously sucking it. When they were gone, I stretched out and gazed up at the ceiling fan again. It was mesmerizing, therapeutic in a way. I was lying in come but I didn't mind. I thought of Jason. No doubt, he would've jumped right in the middle of it with the two guys. But that's the way he was; it was what made him Jason. I had different feelings for him than he had for me. I lay for a long time, basking in the gentle breeze from the fan and fondling my cock then got up and showered yet again to wash off the boys' come, then got dressed and went back to Toby's. Jason wasn't there, and I didn't know if he ever would be. I returned from my three-day pass and immersed myself in my work. I was sometimes a little too exuberant in getting information out of the prisoners they brought in. I looked at each one of them as potentially the one who had taken Jason away from me; dead, wounded, a POW.....whatever it was, each one of these guys was personally responsible in my mind. The colonel walked in on one session just as I was squeezing the life juice out of a guy's balls. He was doubled over in pain and I wasn't letting go. Finally he screamed and blurted out what I wanted to know. "You ever hear of the Geneva Conventions?" the colonel growled, out of earshot of the prisoner. "Fuck your Geneva Conventions, sir," I snapped. "You heard him?" "Yes." "I got what I needed out of him," I asked angrily. "Yes." He stepped to the door and called in two guards to take the prisoner away. Then he turned back to me. "Get back on track with your interrogation methods, soldier. We don't torture." "That wasn't torture, sir." "Don't make me remind you again," he said. "Yes, sir." "It starts out squeezing a guy's balls, and advances to squeezing the life out of him. I've seen it happen." "Would that be so bad?" I said. "Sorry, sir, but once I get the information out of `em, I don't much give a fuck what happens to them after that." He glared at me and walked out. Despite what the colonel said and what I said, I wasn't about to ease up. I owed it to Brown and Anderson, the two guys who were in the blast that blew away the backside of our compound. It was my job to get information and I owed it to Brown and Anderson to do my job well. I didn't much give a fuck how I got a prisoner to break. I would just have to be more careful about letting the colonel catch me. I spent a lot of nights in the barracks, reading, playing poker, writing an occasional letter, bull sessions, the usual shit that goes on in the barracks. I was bothered and ashamed that a couple of the guys were starting to look good to me. Not that I would have the nerve to try anything with any of them but I'd never noticed before just how studly they were. I guess Jason's absence was making me horny. But it didn't last long enough at any given time to make me try anything with any of the guys in my barracks. I spent a lot of nights at Toby's, too, watching and waiting, hoping and praying, and going back to the barracks with the same empty, gnawing in my guts. Finally, in desperation, as is usually the case, I resorted to prayer. Real prayer, in a church, not the casual quickie that's uttered in passing. The church was like a shrine, with statues everywhere, candles flickering all over the place, the smell of incense heavy in the air. It was quiet and dark and there were only a half dozen other people in the place; one GI in combat uniform, another in civies, and some locals. I wondered if either of the GIs was there praying for the same reason I was. I shoved a folded dollar bill into the slot and lit one of the large candles, then knelt down on the kneeling bench in front of the large statue. It was warm from the dozens of flickering candles. I looked up at the statue on the wall, unsure who it was. One of the saints. I didn't care which one it was as long as he heard me. I said the prayers without specifically stating what I wanted. I was born and raised Catholic and there was something about praying to a saint for the safe return of a guy I was having sex with that didn't ring true with my upbringing. I couldn't say it, but I prayed for it, half of the time praying just that there was somebody listening and understanding. I was there for over an hour. When I left, I wasn't sure if it'd been futile, hypocritical or even an abomination but I left with hope in my heart, and trust in whoever the saint was. Just maybe there really was a special saint for guys like me and maybe he was listening. I was at the lowest ebb of my life. I did my job like a zombie, without feeling. I ate and slept and I drank beer at Toby's. Too much beer, sometimes. A couple of times I got a room at the Trent to get out of the barracks, and just lay there watching the ceiling fan go around and around while I drank myself into a stupor. I didn't let the Vietnamese boy suck me off the one time he brought my beer up to me. Those turned out to be the best times. I went back to Ling once but it was no good. Oh, it was good, but it left me yearning for the only thing that could satisfy me. I began to have panic attacks as I faced the realization that Jason might not come back. Toby was the guy I leaned on most. He didn't have to say anything and most times he didn't. It was enough to walk in to see him behind the bar, smiling, and have him shove a beer at me. Sometimes we talked, but it was usually about everything but Jason. I don't know which of us was avoiding it. I was making circles on the bar with the bottom of my beer, creating a pattern. "Look, the Olympic rings," I said. He laughed. Without looking up, I said, "What if he doesn't come back, Toby?" I looked up when he didn't say anything, and he was just looking at me. "You can't talk like that," he said. "What if he doesn't?" I asked again. "I don't know." "When did you know?" I asked. "About what?" "About me. And Jason." "Pretty early on," he said. "Am I that easy to spot? I know he isn't," I said. "No. But with all the guys who come in here, I've got a trained eye. You would be surprised. Others would be just as surprised about you." "What about Jason? What do you see there?" "I see him on a one-way street," he said. "You do have a good eye," I said. "He's straight as a ram-rod." "Ram-rods can be bent," he said with a grin and a twinkle in his eye. "Not broken, but bent." "Not this one," I said. He laughed. "Do you see something I don't see?" I asked. "You know him better than I do," he replied. "Do you see something I don't see?" I asked again. "I see that he cares an awful lot about you. I don't know if it's like a brother on his part, or what, but wherever he is, I'll bet you're on his mind right now as much as he's on yours. And I know if there's any way on God's green earth, he will make it back....." "You didn't finish," I said. "I don't think I have to.....do I?" I shook my head. "No," I said quietly to the bar. The probabilities were waning but my hope stayed alive. I supposed I would maintain hope as long as I lived. I didn't go back to the church right away. If the good saint hadn't heard me, or chose not to do anything, I wasn't going back to beg. But I did, finally. I knelt in the back of the church and prayed and cried and begged till it felt like my heart had been ripped out. I started at a hand on my shoulder. In a split second I imagined it would be Jason standing there when I turned around. But it wasn't. It was a priest. "Son, is there something I can help you with?" he asked in perfect English that the Vietnamese speak so beautifully. I shook my head. "Don't try to handle it alone," he said in a kindly tone as he knelt down behind me with is hand on my shoulder. "I'll pray with you, for whatever it is. You don't have to tell me." "It won't do any good," I said, swiping the wet from my eyes with my thumbs. "Then why are you here, praying?" "I don't know. It's.....it's a place to be," I replied. "I've prayed to the saints and nobody listened." "You don't know that. Sometimes you have to give these things time. Things don't happen on our time." "How much time does it take for a saint? He's up there with the powers that be. He should have an in." He laughed softly. "Would you like to tell me what I'm praying for?" he asked. "You wouldn't want to know, Father," I said. I laughed softly. "If I told you, you would want me to go to Confession." "Confession is your decision. Just as being here is your decision." "If I told you what you were praying for, Father, you wouldn't pray for it," I said. "You couldn't." "Then I would pray for your wisdom and guidance," he said. "Trust me, son, I've heard it all." "I'm not going to ask you to pray for it, Father, but I will tell you why I'm here. I'm praying for a buddy. He's a Navy SEAL....a sniper....he's been out a long time and he hasn't come back." "That's more common than you think, for one soldier to pray for another." "I'm a Marine, father," I said. "Marines pray for each other, too," he said. "It's more common than they'll admit. If all the prayers stopped, war really would be more a hell than it already is." "But I.....I'm praying for his safe return, but for some of the wrong reasons." "What could possibly be a wrong reason, unless you wish to do him harm yourself, and I don't believe that." "He's....he's more than just a buddy, father, I...he's.....I love him." Even through my choked voice, the words rolled off my tongue with such ease that it surprised me. I couldn't believe I'd said it, especially to a priest. I tightened inside, waiting for his response. "No greater love......," he began. "No, father," I cut in. "Not that kind of love. I love him....as a man. We have sex together." There was quiet for a long moment before the priest responded. "I don't know the true meaning behind "no greater love" but I will tell you something that should ease your mind. In the confessional, there is never a week goes by that I don't have a soldier or sailor or marine or maybe even a Navy SEAL, telling me how they feel about a fellow GI. And often times its more than just being buddies." "And what do you do? What do you say?" "I give them absolution, encouragement, guidance, advice; whatever I think they need." "I couldn't confess, Father, it wouldn't do any good, because when he comes back, we're going to be together again. So, no absolution. What advice or encouragement would you give?" "Officially, as a priest, I would advise you to get your life back on track and encourage you to refrain from all of this. Unofficially, as a priest and a man, I would remind you that God made you what you are. You are in His image." "You think God is gay?" "No. I don't think God is a sexual being at all. He has no need for it; He passed that on, gave that gift to man. Nobody knows what that image is, but we must know that God understands, because He created your emotions, even the feelings you have for this man." "I don't know whether to be confused or relieved," I said. "You tell me, father." "You must decide that for yourself," he said. "But I believe this man....this Navy SEAL....is extremely fortunate to have someone who cares about him so deeply." I thought about that for a several minutes and when I half-turned to say something else, the priest was gone. I sat alone with my thoughts for a long time. I prayed some more and I felt relief that I wasn't ashamed of what I was praying for. In those moments I laid all my cards on the table. Dear God, if you'll bring him back safe I promise I'll walk away. Please, God, bring him back and I swear I'll never touch him again. I meant it but I didn't know if I truly believed it, or if God did, or if I could do it. Maybe I was signing his death warrant but that's the way it was. I was lying on my bunk after chow after having lost nearly all of my money in a poker game. Payday was four days away so I wouldn't be going on pass. The orderly poked his head in. "Courson, there's a phone call for you in the orderly room," he said. Suddenly I couldn't breath. I got up and walked....half stumbled....down to the orderly room, my legs like jelly. My hand shook as I picked up the phone. "Hello," I said timidly. I was scared out of my wits who might be on the other end. "Brad!" "J-Jason?" "Yeah." "Oh, My Godd," I gasped. I couldn't find my voice for a moment. "Something wrong?" the orderly asked. The orderly was the same guy who was on guard duty the night Jason had showed up in his full combat gear and I'd told him Jason was my brother. "You wanta take this privately?" he asked, pointing to the COs office. I went into the office and picked up the phone. "You still there?" Jason asked. "Yes, he let me take it in the CO's office. Where are you? What happened? Where have you been? Are you all right?" "Whoa. Whoa. Hey, slow down. One question at a time," he said. "Can you get out?" "I....I.....yes. Yeah, even if I have to go AWOL." "Well, stop laying there beating your meat and get your sorry ass down to Toby's." "You're there?" "Yeah. Waiting on you, buddy." My hand trembled so bad that the phone rattled when I hung it up. I couldn't function for a moment. I stood there in a daze till the orderly came in. "Can you get me a pass?" I asked. "That was my brother." "Fuckin' A," he said. "Shit, I can't let you go AWOL." The unlimited passes had been curtailed because of too many guys being gone at one time, but he came back with a pass signed by Sgt. Brown.....two passes, actually....but I wasn't sure if Brown had actually signed either of them. I half expected that the orderly signed them himself. "No three-days, colonel's orders," he said. "But here's an overnight for the rest of tonight, and another one for tomorrow night." "Thanks." "No problem. Tell your brother I said hey." I showered and shaved and got ready. Very ready. It'd been months since I'd seen Jason and I wanted to be perfect for him. I was dressed and checking my back pocket for my wallet. "Shit!" "What's the matter?" one of the guys asked. "I got a pass and I just realized I'm flat broke." Without a word, two guys dug money out of the pockets and handed it to me. Shit, I wanted to cry. I headed out of the gate with a new bounce to my step, like a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I reminded myself to go back to the church and thank saint what's-his-name for listening and taking some action. I guess it wasn't wrong that I prayed for him. I remembered my vow to walk away, and now I was running to him. I was nervous as hell as I walked into Toby's. I went to the bar, looking for Jason, but he was nowhere to be seen. "He left," Toby said. My heart sank, and I even felt a surge of anger. Why would he leave? He had just called me. "Did he say where he was going?" I asked. "No. He said you would know where to find him. He just got dropped off and he didn't want to stick around in full combat gear. Hey, do you want a beer first?" Toby asked. "You look like you could use something to calm your nerves." "No, thanks." "Good enough, he took a six pack with him," he said. I stepped away from the bar but my hand was still on it. "Toby, is he..... okay?" I asked. "He's great," Toby assured me. "Looks like he's been in the jungle for a month or so, but even that looks good on him." I half ran the distance to the hotel. I took the back stairs because I didn't want to appear so anxious going in the front. I walked down the hallway to room 238. If he said I would know where to find him, that would be the room. I paused at the door, my stomach in knots, my hand raised to knock. But I tried the door instead. It wasn't locked. I opened it a crack, half afraid to go in, afraid it might be all a dream that could suddenly turn into a nightmare if he wasn't really there and maybe my imagination was playing tricks on me. It was dark inside except for the soft light coming in the alley window. I could hear the soft whirring of the ceiling fan. I opened the door a little more. "Hey." It was Jason's voice. I went inside and closed the door. "Better bolt it," he said. He was sitting slouched down in the chair, still in full combat uniform and with a dark stubble of beard. He looked so damned handsome and sexy in the dim light, truly like a hero warrior returned from battle. I bolted the door. I couldn't move. He got up and came toward me, his equipment making soft noises as he moved. We went into each other's arms; for him, it was buddy-meeting-buddy, a bear-hug. It was more than that for me. I hugged him tight, drawing on the feel of his hard body beneath the uniform. "Sorry I came like this but they just released me and I didn't want to take time to change. I reported in then had them drop me off," he said. "You look....great...as always," I said. "I look like shit," he said. "I smell like shit." "No, you look studly as hell and you smell great." I wanted to know what had happened, where he'd been, but I was afraid to ask. I imagined that it had been so horrible that I would wait till he wanted to talk about it. "Well, you said you like to see me dressed like this," he said. "Yes, I do. I like to see you dressed in anything.....or not in anything." "We'll get to that," he said with a chuckle. "But first....." He dug into a pack lying beside the chair and brought out a camera. "You said one time you wanted pictures. I bought you this. Picked it off a......" He cut his words off as if he thought I wouldn't approve. "Yeah, I heard they're setting up PXs out in the jungle," I said. "Yeah." "Thanks." I was still so nervous I was breathless. "Hey, you're so nervous." he said. "Dammit, Jason, I've been so afraid...," I choked. "I'm back," he said, as he pulled me into his arms again. "Are you? I'm almost afraid to believe it." "I can prove it," he said as he smashed loins hard against me. He crooked his finger under my chin and tilted my face up. "Do you need some real proof?" he asked. I was stunned at his show of emotion, afraid to believe what he was going to do. Then he tilted his head and touched his lips to mine. I whimpered and he sort of moaned as the touch quickly turned to a hard, passionate kiss. I loved the roughness of his days-old beard and the musky of smell of him, the smell of the jungle. Even his lips were beard strong; I knew I was being kissed by a man. It was a long kiss that left us breathless. "I'm back, okay?" he declared again. "Yes, are you ever," I gasped. "So, do you want to take pictures first?" he asked. "I'm going to be taking this uniform off anyway, you could get all the pictures you want while I'm doing it." "Can I keep on taking pictures, after you've taken it all off?" I asked. "I told you before, take all the pictures you want. Take pictures till the film runs out." I could barely hold the camera as he took off his combat gear. It was such a sensual thing to see, this powerhouse of a man shedding the gear that made him a warrior, transforming himself from a killer to a man. When he was shirtless, still wearing his pants and boots and his web equipment belt, I told him to stop and pose for me. He was awkward at it but that only added to the pose. I kept taking pictures as he took off his combat boots and undid his belt. A tight smile came on his face as he unzipped his pants and shoved them down. Then I saw why. "I wore it for you," he said as his pants dropped to his knees, leaving him standing there in the tatted jockstrap. "And it brought you back," I said with a smile just as wide as his. Fuck, he looked good in it, the dam thing sagging pitifully but beautifully under the weight of his manhood. He took off his pants and socks and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jock while I kept taking pictures. "Leave it on," I said. By the time he pulled them off I was mesmerized to weakness. That's when I noticed the marks and bruises. "What are those marks? They look like....burns." "I got detained for awhile and they thought I ought to know something important," he said. "You were captured?" I gasped, the air draining out of my lungs. "It was nothing serious," he said, shrugging it off. "Hell, I got away. Bunch of dumb-asses." I wanted to ask more questions....how long he'd been a prisoner, what they did to him....it looked like cigarette burns....but it would've been a waste of time. I knew he wouldn't talk about it till he was ready. To him, it truly was nothing serious. "Now you," he said as he took the camera from my hand. "You want pictures of me?" I asked. "Naw, I don't need pictures of you. I've got those burned in my mind. I meant it's your turn to get naked." I hadn't gotten all the pictures I wanted but it didn't matter. I started to tug my shirt out of my jeans but he stopped me with his powerful grip around my wrist. "Huh-uh. I'll do it." I couldn't believe he was undressing me and it made me light-headed, part of it from his manly aroma. By the time I was naked we were both hard, his cock nearly bulging through the mesh pouch of his jockstrap. "Fuck, I need a shower," he said as he moved away from me. "No," I said quickly. He gave me a funny look. "I want you just like you are," I said. "Man, I smell like a horse, I haven't had a shower since..." "And why shouldn't you, you're built like one," I cut in. "All right," he said, nodding. "All right, if that's what you want, but you might change your mind when you..." "I won't change my mind," I said. Instead of going to the bed he sat in the chair, slouched down so his butt was half off the seat. His jockstrap was tented to the tearing point. He rubbed his hand over the pouch. "Why don't you come over and have a seat?" he said. I trembled inside as approached him. I was breaking my promise to God and I was thinking how I could reconcile that with Him. I didn't take a seat. Instead I went to my knees between his feet and moved up between his legs. I rested my forearms on his thick thighs and leaned down. He hunkered his butt up as I buried my face in his jock. I whimpered with joy as I mouthed the soft, ragged material, breathing in his musk. How long, I wondered, had his musk built up. I lapped my tongue in the apex of his thighs for more or it. I licked his musk away and mouthed his jock again for more. His cock throbbed anxiously, demanding to be released, to be serviced. I tugged the pouch aside so his balls were free and sucked one in my mouth. "Uuhhnnnnn," he moaned softly, laying his hand gently on the back of my head. I wallowed his nut around on my tongue for a moment then popped it out and sucked in the other one. He moaned again. Then I pulled the pouch off of his cock. It swung up tall and proud and demanding, throbbing and quivering. I licked up the shaft and lashed my tongue around the sensitive underside of the head, causing it to quiver violently. I pulled it down to take it in my mouth but he stopped me, cupping his hands in my armpits. "You know I don't like you on your knees like that," he said. "I want to be here. You deserve this," I said, refusing to be helped up. It was the wrong thing to say. He stood, lifting me to my feet. His hot cock pressed against my stomach. "I don't like for you to talk like that either. You're not my slave," he said. "Can't I indulge myself in hero worship?" I asked. "Not with me. I'm not your hero." "Yeah, you are," I said. "You may not like, but you are." "Dammit, Brad, I wish you wouldn't..." I put my fingers to his lips to shush him and pressed my hand to his chest and he slouched down so his butt was on the edge of the chair. I leaned down to wet his cock with my mouth but I couldn't raise up high enough to sit on his cock. I had to hunker forward and take it at an angle. The time we'd been apart, my ass had tightened up and it was a hard, slow entry. But even the pain felt good, because it was Jason's pain that he was giving to me. When I finally sat on his thighs, it felt like he was up inside me deeper than he'd ever been. We both held still till I got used to his size then I began to squirm around. He put his hands around my waist and urged me up so I had only about half of his cock in me. My legs weren't long enough for me to raise all the way up. He urged me back down. "Ohh, Fuck, that feels so good!" he moaned. "It's been so fuckin' long." I laid my head back, my eyes closed, and sucked in deep breaths of air as he began fucking me. I fucked him back, but he was in charge. "How do you like having the best seat in the house?" he asked. "Aw, fuck, I can't describe it," I said. "You wanta keep doing it this way? Let me know if you want to get on the bed," he said. "Any way you want it," I told him. He fucked me sitting on the chair for a while but he kept slipping down and the chair was pretty rickety and creaking. "We'd better move to the bed, this thing's going to collapse under us," he said. I started to raise up but he brought me down tight against his loins and locked one arm around my waist. He stood up and I locked my legs around his hips and he walked us to the bed. "Ohhh....Ohhhhh....Ohhhh....Ohhhhh," I cried softly with each step. "That feel good?" he asked. "Awww, Yess, it feels great when you walk," I said. "Well, then, let's go for a walk," he said, laughing. He walked around the room, his big cock lobbing back and forth inside me with each step. He walked over to the door and slid the bolt. "What're you doing?" I asked. "We're going for a walk," he said as he opened the door. "Shut the fuckn' door!" He laughed and closed the door. At the edge of the bed he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. "Awwhhh....Awwhhh....Ohhh....Ohhh, Fuck!" I moaned. "I think I could make you come this way," he said. "You know it." "Dam, how come we never thought of this before?" After awhile he laid me down across the bed and began fucking me for his own pleasure. I was glad he didn't shower. Always before he smelled like aftershave, or deodorant or body splash. Now he smelled of sweat and male musk and the smells of combat. Unlike most other times, he didn't get off and keep going. He kept holding off. When he did let go it was a hard come. He needed it desperately and I was glad that he could intensify his pleasure by using me. I didn't think he would ever stop coming. He filled me up so that his come was gushing back and running out around his cock. It was so intense that his arms were too weak to hold him up and he let his muscular weight down on top of me. "Goddam, I don't think I ever came like that before in my life!" he said. "Thanks, man." I cocked my head aside. "Thanks? Where'd that come from?" "Thanks, that's all," he said. "It was unbelievable, I just wanted you to know that." "Okay, but don't ever thank me again," I said. "Okay, if you're gonna get testy about it," he said. "I just want you to understand that I get as much out of it as you. Probably more," I said. "No, you couldn't," he gasped, shaking his head. "You don't know what a stud you are," I said. "Just like what you do, it's nothing to you." "Oh, that's not true," he said. "That sure as hell wasn't nothing." "You know what I mean; you don't realize what effect you have." "I'm getting heavy," he said as he started to push himself up. "No," I said as I wrapped my arms around his lower back and held him tight. "You're not heavy." We lay in silence for a moment. He was heavy but I didn't want him to move. I wanted to feel his muscular weight bearing down on me, and his cock inside me. It hadn't gone down completely and I could feel it swelling again. Jason gave me a few gentle strokes with it then began to slowly pull out. "You don't need this again so soon," he said as rolled off and lay beside me before I could stop him. "Shit, that was great!" "Welcome back," I said. We lay side by side for a moment then he shoved his arm under my head and pulled me to him. "I need to feel you up against me," he said. He was on his back; I lay on my side with my leg across his thighs, my knee pressed against his balls and my arm across his chest. He put his hand on my arm and squeezed my bicep. "Nice fuckin' arm," he said. I laughed. "Look who's talking." He was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet. A deafening silence, that needed to be broken but I thought Jason should break it. I thought it was he who had the most on his mind and I just wished he would share it with me. I wanted him to stop being a SEAL and just be a man; an ordinary man like the rest of us. Except he was no ordinary man. I don't think any Navy SEAL is. "I laid like this every night," he said in a soft, hoarse tone. "Holding somebody against you?" "Yes.....You," he said. I didn't say anything. I couldn't without choking up and I wasn't going to do that. I waited for him to go on. He didn't say anything for a long while. "After they let me start sleeping in a barracks, I actually slept on a cot. Of course, I shared it with a lot of little critters, but it was better than......" He stopped short and took a breath. "I could lay there and watch the moon and pretend, and play mind games with myself." He laughed softly. "If they'd known the moon shining in the windows brought even that little speck of comfort, they would've boarded up the windows. I thought about you, buddy. A lot. I didn't have anybody else to think about; no girlfriend back home, and you don't think about your mom or dad in a situation like that. It's like they don't deserve it and you don't want to bring them into it. So I thought about you. I brought you into it because I knew you could take it. It wasn't all thoughts about all the stuff we've done....the sex.... most of it was....well, more like after the sex, like we are now." I couldn't believe he was opening up to me like this and I hung on to his every word. "Better than what?" I asked. "You started to say...the barracks was better than what?" He heaved a big sigh like he wasn't going to answer and turned his head slightly away from me. "You brought me into it, Jason, I was your comfort, so you can't shut me out now," I said. "The, uh....Well, you have to understand, they don't like us Navy SEALs too much," he said. "We are their definition of hell. So we get special treatment." "Better than what?" I asked again. "Let's just say I lived in the water for awhile." "Oh, Christ!" I trembled with emotions. I think he got emotional too, because he didn't say anything else and we lay quiet for a moment. "Hey, I'm here," he said, finally, squeezing me tight. "How did you get out?" I asked. "My cock," he replied. "Huh?" Now he was joking again? It made me angry that he could make light of it so when I had nearly gone crazy with worry. "Goddamit! Can't you be serious about anything?" I yelled as I shoved away from him and stood beside the bed. "Whoa," he said, with a surprised, confused look. "What the hell set you off?" "You've been out there for months and I've been worried to the puke stage and you come back and make jokes about your cock. Fuck, are you made of steel?" He fought to keep from laughing and that pissed me off more. "I wasn't joking about my cock," he said. "You're going to have to explain that," I said. "Lay back down here with me and I will," he said. I lay beside him again and he pulled me in tight, back in to our original position. He laughed softly. "Well, I guess the dam thing's good for something," he said. "The guards who'd seen me made jokes about how big my cock was. The chief honcho overheard and had me brought up. They took me to his quarters and made me strip down so he could see for himself. His eyes bugged out and he just sat there and stared." I was afraid of where the story was going and I didn't want to hear it. I almost asked him to stop, but I didn't dare. He had brought me into it, I couldn't shut him out. "He had to feel it to make sure it was real," he went on. "Well, even after all I'd been through, you know how my cock is when it gets a little attention. I got a hardon and he sat there and gaped. They called in the other guards to have a look at me and I caused quite a stir. In the back of my mind I was scared out of my head of what they might be dreaming up to do to me. Suddenly the chief ordered everybody out of the room. Then he told me to jack off." "Did you?" I asked. "Yeah, hell, I had to. It felt real good but he got a little impatient because I was taking so long. He wanted to see me shoot. I tried to work it up as fast as I could but he was too impatient. He yelled a guard to come in and close the door then ordered him to his knees and told him to suck my cock. I thought the poor guard was going to pass out from shock. He just stood there with his mouth open and his eyes popped out but the officer yelled at him and he finally did it. He wasn't very damned good, but he speeded things up a little. When I was close I shoved the guard out of the way and the officer leaned up closer. I tried to tell him to move out of the way but he just stood there, and I couldn't move back, or move at all, I was...my ankles were chained to the floor. I don't think he believed I would shoot that far. Well, I went off, and it'd been awhile, so it was a gusher. He was standing five or six feet away and I shot all over his uniform. His mouth fell when I started coming and he looked down at the whitewash I was giving him like he didn't believe what was happening. He was a fuckin' mess. I was fuckin' scared out of my head. I thought he might get pissed because I'd ruined his uniform and cut my dick off or something. But all of a sudden he broke out in a big smile then he broke out laughing and called the other guards in to show them and tell them what'd happened. To make it short, I got moved into the barracks and they started treating me better. All I had to do was show off my cock and jack off every day or so. The chief liked to invite others to watch. I think he might have been gay but he didn't dare let it be known so he never did anything." I was okay with the story, as much as he told me, but he hadn't answered my question. "How did you escape?" I asked again. "I was being taken out on a work detail and the guard set his rifle down to take a piss, the dumb-ass. I grabbed it and whacked him in the back of the head with the butt and took off." "What about the marks and bruises?" I asked softly. "They'll go away," he said. "What about the marks and bruises?" I asked again. "Like I said, they give Navy SEALs special attention." "Jason......" "We're not going to go there," he cut me off. "It's over, I'm back." I didn't argue with him. He'd brought me into it, he could shut me down. "You shouldn't have told me," I said. He raised his head and looked at me with a confused frown. "The next gook I interrogate....well, the colonel better be there," I said, seething with anger. "Hey, you do your job, just like always. This has got nothing to do with you," he said firmly. I raised up, suddenly angry again. "It's got everything to do with me!" I snapped. "I meant....nothing to do with how you do your job." We were quiet for a moment till we both calmed down. "Okay, I'm glad you told me," I said. "Thanks for being there for me," he said. I gave him a bewildered look. "I said I played mind games with myself....well, maybe it wasn't all mind games. Those nights I laid in my bunk, and before that, nights I was laying out there in the jungle, waiting...when I was thinking about you, when I was holding you close....man, it was real. You were lying right there with me, up tight against me, just like now. You were there." He choked and his voice seemed to vanish. I was nearly overwhelmed with emotions. "I tried to be," I said. "With everything in me, I tried to be there." "Well, maybe it wasn't exactly like you are right now," he said, hugging me tighter. Then he turned over on his side, facing me. His cock stuck out, extended up over his belly was like lying on a log. He wrapped his powerful arms around me and hugged me tight against his thick chest. My own cock wedged into the crevice of his thighs. I fully expected to raise up and straddle his cock and ride it again but instead he spread his thighs so my cock fell between them. He squeezed his thighs tightly against my cock. I was totally surprised at his reciprocation, although some wouldn't have described it so. I clenched my butt which drove my cock between his thighs. "This is as close as you're ever going to get," he said as he sort of humped up against me. "I'll take it," I said as I began moving my cock back and forth between his thighs. He let me dry-fuck him for a while then told me he wanted to turn over. "Maybe you can get a little closer," he said as he turned over on his stomach and spread his legs out, propped up on his elbows. I was taken aback, breathless. Godd, was he going to let me.....there was no way! I knelt beside him, totally bewildered. I didn't dare believe what I was thinking. "Y-you....y-you're not......," I stammered. "No, you can't fuck me, but you can use my butt to get off," he said. I got between his legs and let some spit fall into the crack of his butt. I aimed straight then lifted my cock so it lay in the crack and began sliding it back and forth. I was delirious with lust as I imagined I was fucking the big stud. On the forward thrust my cock stood up at a sharp angle out over his hard butt muscles, dripping precome. Drawing back, I was careful that the head of my cock didn't thrust between his buns to find his asshole. I closed my eyes and I was fucking him. I wondered what he would do if I accidentally shoved my cock in him. "You can come on my butt," he said. He hunkered his shoulders and tossed his head back and humped his butt up for me as if I really was fucking him and he was enjoying it. I fought to hold back at first. I wanted it to go on and on but I knew that even though he was acting like he was enjoying it, he was doing it for me, and he would soon tire of the charade. So I let it build up till I was humping his butt so hard the bed shook. "Ohh....I'm....gonna....come," I hissed. "Yeah, do it, buddy....shoot it....give it to me....shoot it all over my butt." I overshot his butt by a long way. With my cock at a sharp upward angle, the first several shots sailed up and landed on his shoulders and the back of his neck and in his hair. One shot clear up over his head and hit the wall. I pulled back so the last of my load spurted onto his butt and the small of his back. I watched the stuff slide down into the crack of his ass and slid my cock in it. "Dam, Buddy! You exploded!" he said. "That stuff's hot on my ass." I was gasping and weak. I kept my weight up off of him but I didn't have the strength to move off. My arms were numb and trembling. "Lay down on me," he said. Godd, I thought, why is he doing this for me? I let my weight down on top of him and my come-slick cock slipped down into the apex of his thighs. My come was the lotion between our muscles. I laid my face on his shoulder in a pool of my own come. "I'm sorry I made such a mess," I said. "Feels like body lotion," he said. "I got it in your hair." "It'll wash out." I was in my own little heaven. I was so happy I wanted to cry but like a good, tough marine, I didn't. I felt Jason's muscles flex under me but he let me lay on top of him for a long time. He never made any move to get up. I finally had the strength and the will to shove myself up off his body. My come clung to our skin, stretched between us like liquid cobwebs. I stood off the bed. "Do you want the shower?" I asked. "Do you want to shower together?" he asked. I didn't know if he was kidding and I was afraid to say yes. I put my hand down to pull him up off the bed but he pulled me down on top of him again. "Just so you know, that was fucking hot," he said, hugging me tightly. "Think how hot it would be if it was the real thing," I joked, but he didn't pick up on it. He was serious about showering together. When I held back from following him into the bathroom he stopped and looked over his shoulder and asked, "Are you coming?" In the shower, I washed his back and shoulders to make sure all the come was washed off. He seemed to enjoy it so I reached around him and began lathering up his chest and stomach. I washed his manhood then went to my haunches and washed his thighs and his butt. "Why'd you do that?" I asked while I was on my knees. He turned around and helped me to my feet. "Do what?" he asked. "What we did," I said, nodding toward the room. "Pay-back," he said. "Pay-back? For what?" He looked at me, acting like he was trying not to. He had a funny look in his eyes, almost scary or panic, like a dear in the headlights. "For what?" I asked again. "For...being there...in that...in that goddamned cage in that fuckin' cold water and all those time when they... and in the cell with me......." He wrapped his powerful arms around me and pulled us together. "...when I needed you," he finished, choking back a sob. Then suddenly he turned away from me and leaned his head against the side of the shower, his shoulders wracked with sobs. It was more than I could take; I broke, too. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my naked body against his naked body and cried with him and tried to comfort him by saying nothing, but just by being there...when he needed me. He held me for a long time under the spray of the shower and I held him, for as long as he wanted me to. I would never have imagined that such an embrace....the two of us naked under the shower....could be anything but sexual, but it wasn't. It was the embrace of a Navy SEAL and a Marine who needed and were there for each other, and I was happy that he needed me. It was several moments before he stopped crying and tossed his head back to let the shower spray hit him in the face. "Fuck!" he swore angrily as he washed his face. I didn't say anything; there was nothing to say till he spoke. I was just happy that he felt okay about baring his soul to me. He stepped out of the shower first and was drying off while I finished showering. "Sorry I got so sappy," he muttered. "That wasn't sappy," I said. "But you go through it on your own, Jason, with your own courage. I wasn't there. Not really," I said. "You don't know that. I do. You were there," he said, his voice steady and strong, speaking more matter-of-fact. "All the night-dreams and day-dreams and everything I thought about to keep my mind off......." He brought the towel up to his face, purposely to cut off his words. Then he went on. "I put them all in a list in my mind so I would remember what all I wanted to do when I got back." He handed me a towel. "It's a long list," he said, and walked out of the bathroom. He was standing at the bed with his foot cocked up on the bed, drying his legs. "Now I definitely want some pictures of that," I said as I picked up the camera again. He laughed and began posing, making sure each one showed off his huge cock to its best advantage, even pulling it on it to get it hard. "Shit, I need a wide-angle lens," I joked as he displayed his huge hardon. "Something to show your grandchildren," he joked back. For a couple of shots he wrapped his hand around his cock as if he was stroking it. I also got pictures of him from the back, bent over. In one he pulled his butt apart for me. Then he stretched out on the bed, legs spread out, and began stroking his cock. He motioned for me to join him. When I did, he put his arm out for me to lie on and pulled me in tight against his body. Neither of us spoke for a long time, and I wasn't going to till he did. "You said I got through it on my own courage," he said in a soft, husky voice. "I was scared. For the first time, I was really scared. Hell, I was praying." "Welcome to the human race," I said. He cocked his head around and looked at me, his lips pursed in a tight smile that wouldn't quite come. "Sometimes I don't think you are human," I said. "So damned tough and macho and steely-eyed...fuck, cold in the eyes sometimes." "I have to be that way." "Not with me. It's okay to be human around me, like a minute ago. And a lot of us pray, stud. I prayed a lot these last many weeks," I said. "I spent a lot of time on my knees in the church, begging some saint to bring you back safe." "And I thought it was my jockstrap," he joked. "I even made pact with God," I said. "And broke it," I added. "A pact?" "A promise; if He brought you back alive and well, I wouldn't touch you again." He looked at me with a smiling scowl. "Why would you make a promise like that?" "Because I thought if I got my life back on the straight and narrow, he might listen," I said. "I didn't' realize your life was on such a crooked, wide path," he said. "I'm Catholic, Jason. What we're doing goes against everything I was taught." "I'm sorry I led you astray," he scoffed. "You didn't lead me anywhere; I found my way all on my own," I said. "I even told a priest." "About us?" he asked surprised. "About who I was praying for, and why. He didn't condemn me for it." "Then maybe God won't either," Jason said. "I mean, he's the boss down here, isn't he? He's got all the answers. Besides, I don't believe you were praying for me to get back just so you could have sex with me." "You know it's more than that," I said. "Then I don't think anybody's going to condemn you for caring about somebody." Then he smiled, one of those mischievous grins that made me tingle inside. "But since I made it back, whether it was the saint or my jockstrap that did it, sex was part of it, wasn't it?" "Sex would be all of it, if that's what you want," I said. "But its not," he said, his smile vanishing from his handsome face as he leaned down over me. "I want you," he said huskily, almost a whisper. "I want you so fuckin' bad." Then he brushed his whiskers against my face as his lips found mine. "You've got me, stud. Anytime." It was a long, passionate kiss; not hard and rough except for his beard, but I liked his rough beard against my face. When we parted, I told him, "I like your beard." He laughed. "You're nuts, you know that? You like my beard, you like me all cruddy and smelly, you like my jockstrap that's never been washed..." he let his voice trail off as he rolled over on to of me, nudging his cock into the apex of my thighs. I started to lift my legs up and he brought them the rest of the way to his shoulders. We didn't get around to the letter he had written to me. Chapter Seven I had a real hardon against the VC when I went back to work. Every one they brought to me I saw as one who had held Jason in that water cage or put their fuckin' cigarettes out on his beautiful muscles or tortured him in other ways. I seethed with anger every time they brought me one. I hated the bastards and I used that hate and anger to get out of them what I wanted. The war wasn't going well. It hadn't been for a long time despite the escalations, and if the colonel knew I was using unorthodox tactics to extract information, he didn't mention it. There didn't seem to be a plan, and worse of late, no purpose. A lot of us were beginning to wonder what the hell we were doing there. From the information I was extracting from captured prisoners I couldn't get any sense of a let-up or the slightest dissemination of the VC troop strength or any weakening of their resolve. From, what I could glean, they seemed to have an unlimited supply of living, breathing men that they could throw into battle. I talked to the colonel about it once and he told me I didn't have the big picture. I wasn't convinced anyone did. Unlike me, Jason never wondered about his purpose and he had his own plan. I had told Jason that I would like to see how he lived so one day when he was in the city he commandeered a Jeep and we drove off to his base camp. I don't know how far we went but it was like we were traveling deep into the bowels of nowhere. Finally we rolled up to the compound. It was like a small, busy city. Way off to one side was a baseball field, with several guys in combat boots and shorts throwing a baseball. I let my eyes linger in that direction for as long as I dared. Jason took me to his hooch where he lived with a squad of nine other guys. It bore some resemblance to our barracks except it was a tent with a board floor and it was smaller. It was hot and the six guys there had their shirts off or were in their shorts. "Guys, this is Brad Courter, from Intel," he said by way of introduction, then went around and introduced me to the six other men. I got the impression they weren't overly impressed with meeting anyone from Intelligence. I was impressed with them, though. Watching their tanned, sweat-glistening battle-hardened muscles when they shook hands, I was having fantasies about being their hooch boy. We didn't stay long; just long enough to chat. They did invite me into a card game but I declined. "Looks too serious to me, and I can't afford to loose any money this far out from payday," I said. "Glad somebody's got something to live for," one of them mumbled. Just then a lean, muscular guy stepped inside, his upper body glistening with sweat. "This is Jude," Jason introduced me. "Hey," he said with a wave of the glove on his hand. "You play baseball?" "I didn't make the majors," I joked. "Fuck, this ain't even the minors," he said as he walked over to a footlocker. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing in my foot locker?" one of the other guys growled. "I need your glove," Jude said. He found the glove and tossed it to me. "Get your glove," he told Jason. But Jason was hesitant. "We head back now or you spend the night," he said. "We don't want to be driving that route back after dark." It was a thought; spending the night. I envisioned being cooped up in the small, hot hooch with six or eight hard-muscled, sweaty guys and being passed around from bunk to bunk. It was only a dream, and it wasn't the reason I stayed. I stayed because I wanted to get in the ball game with these guys. Jason and I took off our shirts as we walked out to the field. "What position," Jude asked me. "Anywhere," I said. I took left field. Jason took over as catcher. He had the legs for it. The game was fun, and the guys on the field were a lot friendlier than the six guys in the hooch. It felt good to work up a sweat, and it was nice to watch the other soldiers' muscles all sweaty. It was anybody's guess who won the game, and I didn't think anybody really cared. By the time the game ended it was getting dark. We went down to the river to swim and cool off before chow; yeah, I was spending the night. Several guys were sent out on patrol after chow, four of them from Jason's hooch. I couldn't bow out of the poker game and I lost some money, but I didn't mind. Dangerous as it was, I liked the different atmosphere of being in the jungle with the guys who were in the middle of the fighting. "Brad, here, is the one who squeezes the Intel out of the gooks you bring in," Jason told the guys. "Getting any good stuff out of them?" one of them asked. "Its not what he gets out of them, its what the pricks at the top do with it," another said. I got the impression that Intel wasn't looked upon too favorably, and I tried to steer the conversation in another direction. I folded and backed out of the game and stepped across the aisle to sit on a footlocker and watch. "You wanta hit the rack, you can have the bunk down at the end," one of them said. "Is he on patrol? I don't want some guy to come back off patrol and find me in his bunk," I said. "He was on patrol last night. He's on his way back home in a body bag," the guy said, calm as hell. I felt strange sleeping in the dead man's bunk, but I didn't want to sleep on the rough, board floor. I had the feeling that they might have intruders scurrying across the floor in the night. As the others were getting into the bunks, I held back to see how they slept. All but one of them stripped down naked, including Jason. Again, I had to fight to keep my eyes from wandering or fixing on him or any of the others. Oddly, none of them seemed to even notice Jason's magnificent nakedness. A nightlight cast a dim glow through the hooch. I could make out the men in their bunks but only as masculine figures. The guy in the bunk next to me rolled onto his side facing me and I caught a glimpse of his hefty manhood hanging down over his thigh. I was terrified when I raked my eyes upward over his body and came into eye contact with him and saw the thin smile on his handsome face. He was coming on to me! For a fleeting few seconds, I considered the possibility. I could slip out of my bunk and crawl over to his and give him a blowjob without anyone seeing us. Or I could get up and go outside and maybe he would follow. But there was Jason to think about. It wouldn't be good for Jason if these guys knew about me. I turned over with my back to him and satisfied myself with the possibilities. But the longer I laid there the more I thought about it. Maybe the guy would consider it a favor, that Jason had brought me along for the purpose of servicing his friends. Nobody knew that Jason and I hung out together when he was in Saigon. I turned back over. The guy was till awake. When I turned over, he turned onto his side, facing me again. Our eyes met and the electricity sparked. Still, I couldn't bring myself to move. If Jason was awake, I didn't want him to see me. We waited, the two of us, eyeing each other in the dim light. Then I heard snoring. He swiped his hand down over his sweaty chest and stomach. "Shit, I gotta get some air," he mumbled as he got up and headed for the door. I was surprised he didn't bother to put anything on. I waited an appropriate but short moment and when I saw no movement in Jason's bunk I got up and went out too, also naked. I glanced down as I walked by his bunk and he was asleep. I hoped. Outside I looked around and saw the figure of a man step back in the shadows of some trees overhanging what looked like stacks of ammo boxes, twenty yards away. I walked in that direction, into the shadows and heard him whistle softly. I followed the sound down the narrow pathway till I found him leaning back against a stack of cases. He was stroking his cock. I glanced around. "Its okay, there's nobody else back here," he whispered. I approached him and went to my knees. There was no time or reason for inhibitions; we both knew what we were there for. He lifted his cock and laid the head on my tongue and I sucked him in. "OOOhhhhhh, Fuuuuccckkkkk!" he moaned softly. He thrust forward and I let him shove his rubbery cock all the way down my throat. "Ohhhh, Fuck!" he swore again. "Nobody ever did that before." I sucked him and he fucked my face. He didn't try to hold off. It was sex, pure and simple, for both of us. He needed it and I wanted it. It lasted about ten minutes, then suddenly he clasped his hands around the back of my head and humped my face for all he was worth. I mean, he pounded my throat with his big cock. Finally, he slammed his pubes against my face and held me there and ground his loins against my nose and belched hot come down my throat. He must've been saving it up for awhile; he shot off a hell of a load. I let him leave his cock buried in my throat; I was in no hurry to part, but suddenly I felt like a slut, sneaking out of Jason's hooch to service one of his buddies. The guy pulled his cock out of my mouth and put his hand down to pull me to my feet. "Fuck, I needed that," he said. "I could tell. How long have you been saving that up?" "Shit, four, five days," he said. "It felt like four or five weeks worth." "Yeah, there's always a lot. Do you take care of Jason?" he asked. "No," I lied, suddenly using that as a cover. "Not that I wouldn't like to, but he's so straight, I think he's got a ramrod stuffed up his ass. I don't know what he would do if I tried anything." "Probably the same thing I did; feed you his cock. If you could handle it," he said. "Fucker is huge." "Have you ever seen him with a hardon?" I asked. "Yeah, several times. HUGE!" He held his hands out about a foot apart. "No way. Nobody's hung like that," I said. "God's truth," he said. "Hey, want me to say something to him; tell him you gave me head?" "No," I said quickly. "No, don't do that." "How do you guys know each other?" he asked. "We don't really know each other," I said. "I met him in a bar, and we see each other now and then when he's in the city and have a beer." "Hey, I don't wanta sound selfish, but could we do that again?" he asked as he pulled on his rubbery cock. I went down on him again. The poor guy needed it and I wanted it. Jason and I headed back into Saigon the next morning. "Hey, sign me out," he told one of his buddies. "For how long?" "Till I get back," Jason said. There was no mention of me and his buddy leaving the hooch so I assumed Jason was asleep when we left. Back in Saigon he dropped me off at the Trent to get a room while he returned the Jeep he'd "borrowed" and we would meet back at Toby's. "Steve got it," Toby announced casually as he was getting our beers. "What?" It didn't register at first what he meant or who he was talking about. "Him and three others. Some gook tossed a grenade in the cab they were riding in, right downtown." "The fuckin' bastards!" Jason swore. "Probably mamma-san on her way to market," he added sarcastically. I felt sorry for Steve but my pain went deeper with the awful fear and reminder that it could happen to Jason. Suddenly I wanted to be alone with him. I wanted to be in bed with him and feel his naked body against mine. It was always such a comfort. But I couldn't just drag him out, so we spent the usual respectable amount of time in Toby's, laughing and talking with other GIs as they came and went. I was so relieved when Jason finally said we should leave. We headed straight for the hotel. "Dam, it's too bad about Steve," I said as we were undressing in the room. "Nothing we can do about it," Jason said. This time, like every other time, was like the fuck of my life. Jason always put everything he had into it. But he seemed jittery, and quiet, afterwards. I thought he acted like he wanted to say something. "Look, we never talked about it specifically," he started. "Guess there was no reason before....but my time is up in a few weeks." I was devastated to be reminded; I knew visibly shaken. I knew it but I'd put it behind me. "I guess I knew that," I said, calmly as I could. "It slips up on you. It did me. Good thing somebody's keeping track." He looked at me across the pillow. "Hey, I'm re-enlisting," he said, as if to reassure me. "For the same unit?.....the same duty?" I asked. "Yeah. Hell, I'm good at it; they need me," he said. "I'm going back to the world for a little bit; there're some people I need to see. My parents and my brother, and some old buddies." "And some old girlfriends," I put in. "I doubt if any of them are still around," he said. "You never mentioned you had a brother," I said. He never talked about his parents, either, or home in general, but I had to figure he had parents, but honestly, I didn't know if they were living. "It's not something that needed to come up," he said. "He's in law school. I'm proud as hell about that." "He's got to be damned proud of you, too," I said. He gave me a screwy look with a raised eyebrow. "Are you kidding? Him being in college, under the spell of those nut-ball professors, you can guess that we don't exactly see eye to eye on the war," he said. "I can understand why he can't be proud of me, though." "Why wouldn't he be?" "It'd be pretty hard for him to brag to his loony college friends about having a brother who's a Navy SEAL. Hell, he's probably back there burning me in effigy, or burning the flag or his draft card. He would disown me if he knew what I do." "Your family doesn't know what your job is?" "Nobody in my family knows anything about what I do," he said. "So far as they're concerned, I'm in the Navy." He laughed. "I don't know if I ever even told them I was in the SEALs," he said. He dug out his wallet and took out a picture and handed it to me. It had one side clipped off. "That's him." "Who was standing beside him that got cut off?" I asked. "Nobody. He was wearing a black armband on that arm," he said. "I cut it off." "There are people who are proud of you. I'm one of them," I said. He shrugged off my compliment. "If it weren't for my parents I wouldn't go back at all. There's nothing back there for me. I realized that when I went home after BUDS training. They said I'd changed." "No doubt you were a changed man," I said. "It affected my mom the most. It affected my dad, too; he just didn't understand any of it. My brother......" He paused and chuckled. "I think he was jealous as hell that his little brother put on the uniform and he didn't have the balls to do it. My mom, she just didn't want to loose her little boy. I told her, `Mom, you would have lost him anyway.' She said, "not to the war.' I think they just don't know whether to act proud or not, the way things are going back there." "Do you think they'll send you back to your same unit?" I asked. "If they don't, the country's not that big. We'll hook up," he assured me. He smiled. "Speaking of which........." I knew what he meant. He was ready again. So was I, anytime he wanted me. What we had together was feeling more and more like making love, although I doubted it was that way for Jason. Not intentionally, anyway, but it seemed he was becoming more gently attentive. Maybe it was my imagination or wishful thinking. but that time when he let me hump his butt, I would never forget, and I liked to think it meant something even though we never did it again. We were together every chance we got for the next several weeks. As time got shorter, our lovemaking, or sex, became more urgent and intense. It was as if we had to make every stroke of his cock, every spurt of come count. I know it was that way for me. Every stroke brought us closer to parting and I had no idea when I would feel his muscular body against mine again, that handsome smile looking down at me....his huge, hot cock plugging my ass or filling my mouth again, flooding my tonsils with its hot load of man cream. Jason wouldn't tell me anymore when he was going out; he said he didn't want me to worry. I was a wreck inside anyway, thinking about him getting out. Even though he was going to re-enlist, I was afraid he wouldn't be stationed close enough for us to see each other. And I worried. My worse fear was that something would happen to him before he went home. It happened all the time; a guy counting the days and suddenly his days are over. I never knew when I would see him again. The next time I saw Jason in Toby's he was wearing a short-sleeve knit shirt, open-collar that showed a couple of inches of cleavage, and a sling on his right arm. "What happened this time?" I asked. "You remember, you told me somewhere out there they had a best shot? I think I found him." "How bad?" I asked, trying not to sound overly concerned. "Pretty clean. It got me in the shoulder." "Dammit," I swore under my breath, "you act like you cut yourself shaving." "Hell, he missed his shot," he said, laughing. "Looks to me like he made it," I said. "Naw, fuck, I'm still walking. He missed his shot," he said. "Just as well, though, I can coast for the rest of my time till I go back." He leaned in closer, laughing softly. "Don't worry, I'm good to go." So we went. To the Trent. Not knowing when he would show, I didn't have a room but I got one....number 238....while Jason strolled around. I was closing the street-side windows when he came in and bolted the door behind him. "You're going to have to be on top and do all the work," he told me as he was struggling to get out of his clothes. "Let's start with this," I said as I brushed his hands aside. It was a pleasure to take his clothes off of him. Touching his muscles sent chills through me. He sat on the edge of the bed so I could pull his pants off and his briefs pulled down with them. His big cock hung out over his balls that rested on the mattress. I pulled his briefs all the way off and handed them to him. "Here, you might want to stuff these in your mouth," I said, jokingly. "I don't think so," he said, tossing them aside. He watched me undress. I was sometimes self-conscious the way he looked at me. Tonight he had a hungry look. I heard him swallow when I was naked and turned around to drape my pants over the back of the chair. "Oh, Fuck! Stay right there for a minute," he said. I looked over my shoulder to see him gazing at my butt. I clenched the muscles for him, one then the other while I dug the small tube of lube out of my pants pocket. "Ohh, Geezusss, man, if you only knew what does to me." "I think I do," I said. `Fuck, you've got an awesome ass!" I was getting hard just from him ogling my butt. He was hard from ogling it. "That was fast," I said, looking at his hard cock. "You don't know how bad I need this," he said, reaching out to squeeze one side of my butt. I squeezed some lube onto the head of his cock and spread it all the way down the shaft. Then I put some in my asshole and stepped up on the bed. Jason held his cock up for me to sit on. I squatted down till I felt the heat of his cock against my hole then bounced up and down on it to stretch the muscles. He thought I was teasing him. "Fuck, stop teasing....slide down on it and ride it," he begged. He should have had his briefs in his mouth when I rode down on his cock. He had to put his forearm across his mouth to stifle his outcry of pleasure. There was something sexy about being on top of the big stud with his battle wounds. And the wounds didn't affect his performance in the least. I didn't have to do all the work after all. I fucked him on top the first time but he took charge the second time, after I'd sucked him off. He bent me over the bed and gave me another ride that took the wind out of me. Knowing it might be our last time together, I was hoping we would have some quiet time, just lie together and talk and touch our bodies together. But it boiled down to sex. I took it and I gave back in kind, and satisfied myself with that. I had to dress him when we were finished. We left the hotel and stopped on the street where we usually parted company. Neither of said anything for a moment. "Hey, I'll come to say good-bye before I leave," he said. "You dam well better," I said. I was afraid he wasn't going to make it back before he left. It was down to mere days unless his departure date had been changed. I was at Toby's every night waiting for him. Two nights....three....four nights passed and I was getting panicky. If he couldn't make it back one more time, surely he would call. Unless...... Godd, I ached just thinking about it. Finally, the fifth night, Jason came into Toby's in his whites, without the sling. "You're out of the sling already?" I asked. "Not supposed to be, but I'm not going to wear a sling with my uniform," he said. "It's getting better fast; I'm exercising it." It was the first time I'd seen him in dress uniform and he looked stunning, if that can be said of a man. The way he filled it out in the chest and arms and shoulders was almost criminal. There was no room left in the sleeves. I thought he might have had the blouse tailored the way it tapered down to his slim waist. From there, his thighs fairly bulged against the white material and right where his thighs met, well, he could have been arrested for that. Geezuss, I was surprised they let him get by with a bulge like that, but then what could they do about it? I could see that he had on boxers, which was the reason he wore boxers, because you could see through the material of his uniform. Once when he turned, I got a look at his butt and almost got light-headed. There were medals on the left side of his blouse; over a dozen of them. It was the first I realized that he had medals, although it stood to reason that he would. He never talked about having any. I didn't recognize some of them but I did know the Purple Heart, Bronze Star and Silver Star, none of which I had. I had about six of the others. "Shit, you've got your own fruit salad started there," Toby said, nodding to the array of color on his chest. He laughed and shrugged like it was no big deal. It wasn't, to him. "Yeah, it breaks up the monotony of the white, don't you think?" Without it being said, we both knew this would possibly be our last night together for a long time. We said our goodbyes in a way that neither of us would forget. I had the small stash of extra cash on me that I'd saved up and when we left Toby's I turned down the street in the opposite direction from the Trent. I had suggested earlier getting a room at a better hotel but Jason said the Trent was okay; that it was where we ought to go. But that was for later. "You're going the wrong direction, or are we taking the scenic route?" Jason asked. "Have you ever been to Rick's?" I asked. "Not on my pay," he said. "When was the last time you had a steak?" "Shit, my memory isn't that long," he said. "Well, we're going to refresh your memory," I said. "Did you get a promotion you didn't tell me about?" he asked. "Hell, I don't even know anybody who can afford to eat there." Rick's was a high-class nightclub with gorgeous strippers and the best, and often the only steaks, in Saigon. The place was owned by a Frenchman who had been in Saigon well before the United States got involved, way back when it was called French Indonesia. Nobody knew how he got his hands on beef imported from the United States, and nobody cared. Jason drew a lot of attention in his dress whites, or more correctly, the way he filled them out. The hostess looked him up and down with a friendly smile. It wasn't lost on me, either. I wondered if she was the madam. I had heard that Rick's also provided escort services "I know you want a table up front," she cooed. Her attributes weren't lost on Jason either. He followed her rounded, rolling hips like radar. She showed us to our table and signaled a cocktail waitress. I put her off till after dinner. When the waiter came I took the menus and laid them aside. I ordered Porterhouse steaks, baked potatoes and salads. "And to drink??" he asked. "Hey, they've got Lowenbrau," Jason said. "Two Lowenbrau," I told the waiter. "Have you eaten here before?" Jason asked me. "Not on my pay," I said. "How are you affording it now?" "I had some money saved back. I thought the occasion called for something special," I said. "The occasion? You mean me going home?" "Yes, I wanted to give you a proper sendoff. "Hey, I'm coming back," he said. "Yes, but we don't know if you'll be stationed near Saigon," I said. "If I'm not, I'll find you," you can bet on that," he said. Eating anywhere with Jason would've been a special occasion, but Rick's made it more special. He savored every bite of his steak, as well as the Lowenbrau. "Do you remember how we met?" I asked. "How could I forget?" he said, laughing. "You dam near ran over me." "You were in the middle of the fuckin' street," I reminded him. "I didn't know where the fuck I was," he said. "When you bent over the front of my Jeep, I thought you were going to crawl right up over the hood and tear me apart." "I might've if I'd been able to crawl up over the hood," he said. "You did, enough for me to haul your sorry ass back to the guard shack," I said. "Yeah, I never thanked you for saving my ass that night." "Oh, I've been thanked a hundred times," I said. "Anyway, it was the guard on duty who saved your ass, not me. He let me take you inside the compound." "Who's bunk did I sleep in that night?" he asked. "You should be asking who else was in the bunk with you," I joked, laughing. Then I added in a more serious tone, "You don't know how I wished it could've been my bunk." "Well, I hope we've made that wish come true," he said. "Do you want to wait for the show?" I asked. "It's your call," he said. "No, you tell me. If you want to stick around...maybe you wanta hook up with one of the strippers and take her back to the hotel." "That wasn't part of the plan, was it?" he asked. "Plans can change," I said. "No," he said. "You made this night about me and you. Let's leave it at that." "Do you want to stay for the show?" I asked again. "It might help get me charged up," he said with a grin. "As if you need help getting charged up." I knew he wanted to stay and I was glad we did. I was surprised at the beauty and the talent; a good imitation of Las Vegas. It was after midnight when we left and headed for the Trent. I had gotten the suite; the only one. It was the same size room as the others but it had a small sitting room with a balcony overlooking the street and a big bathtub along with the shower. "Dam, this is nice. Are you sure you can afford all of this?" "Stop worrying about it." "You know what, I'm going to take a fuckin' bath," he said. "A nice long one. You wanta join me?" "Can you get out of your uniform?" I asked. "Yeah, I got i