What We've Done

WARNING: The first part of today's posting is meant to be read to the tune of Linkin Park's "What I've Done". If you don't know the song, you can find it on the Internet. If you just don't care, well, read it in the more mundane manner.


In this hello
See your face
As you sit and cry
I've not one regret
From this fuck
Or our previous times

[Pre-Chorus:]
So why get mad now
the drama flows
What we've done

[Chorus:]
We got naked
To take cock as you well knew
My hot fuck toy
Hookup is all we've done

Put to rest
What you thought we'd be
While I drop you flat
With your hands getting so needy

So why get mad now
the drama flows
What we've done

[Chorus:]
We got naked
To take cock as you well knew
My hot fuck toy
Hookup is all we've done

For what we’ve done
I start again
To find another hot fuck toy
Today this ends
I'm not willing to date your hole

[Chorus]

What we've done
Forgetting what we've done


As you may have noticed, last nights fuck ended spectacularly. Yes, that is slight sarcastic.

The hot boy from the gym on base, married unfortunately, got weird on me last night.

I went to lift, hoping he would be there but not overly expectant, and ran into him during my second set. We talked briefly, quickly deciding to work out together. Now, even when there is a large disparity in what one partner can lift in comparison to the other, the mere presence of someone to impress and work with always helps your lift. At least, it does for me.

We went through the routine (biceps, back and abs), each choosing a few of our favorites to do a combined, hybrid workout. We finished, went to the locker room, grabbed our shit, and left together. Quickly.

We didn't speak at the gym regarding plans following our lift, but as we headed to our respective cars we both knew without words that he was coming over and getting fucked.

Hard.

We got to my place and barely made it through the door before he was on me. By this time I'd fucked him 3 times (this was to be 4), and he claims (which I believe) that I'm the only guy he's putting out to.

I didn't even need to pick him up. Before I could even close the door, he'd jumped on me, arms clamping tight enough to make my ribs crack, legs entwined around my hips and his mouth trying to suck the air out of my lungs.

I stood there, groping blindly at the door, finally getting it shut, and opened my eyes, staring at him as we sucked the fuck out of each others tongues.

I was hard. I was horny. I was ready.

I was wearing my typical gym garb, tank top and mesh shorts, while he was wearing some track style pants (no underwear included, I noticed) and a tight t-shrit. I moved, slowly, towards the table in the alcove of my kitchen, unwrapped his legs, and plopped him onto the table on his back.

I grabbed his waistband with my right hand, yanking the pants down to his ankles, then over his shoes. He lay there, table straining, a huge grin on his face, legs up and spread, naked from the waist down. Minus the shoes still on his feet, of course.

I stepped away, reaching for my easy pour bottle of Olive Oil (Bertolli, extra virgin which I'd used for a olive oil, pepper, Italian seasoning and balsamic vinegar dipping sauce the night before) that was sitting on my counter. I pulled my shorts and jock down a few inches, my hard cock and balls out and aching to be put to use and pulled off my tank top. I poured a generous dollup of oil onto my cock and turned back towards him and his hole. Before he could utter a word, I had my cockhead firmly against his rosebud, gave it a slight nudge and in went my head.

I sat there, enjoying the warmth, he had a hot little hole with just a bit of hair that always tickled my shaft, for about 4 seconds. Unfortunately, I wanted more and I didn't really want to wait.

I put my right hand on his shoulder, my other hand groping his cock, and shoved.

Hard.

His hole swallowed me without a hint of hesitation. Just the way I like it.

I gave an inward sigh, knowing it was dumb to fuck the guy bare, but trusting (or hoping more like it) that he was and is clean as a married Marine who claims to take cock only from me.

The fears were quickly pushed out of my head as he started to slam his hole against my groin, and I leaned forward, grabbed him harder and railed the fuck out of his hole.

It didn't take long, between his hole, the fact I was fucking him bare, and the use of Olive Oil (lots of friction), before I was getting close.

Some part of me was still thinking, and I pulled out of him, spraying my load all over his chest. It'd been awhile (2 days), and my nuts were pretty full. The first 3-4 shots covered his face and chin before it calmed down and simply coated his chest and abs.

I collapsed on top of him and lay there, kissing him, my cock dripping down his sides and onto the table top. The table groaned under the weight of both of us, and I quickly picked him up.

Standing there, looking at the jizz coating us both, I smiled at him. We went to the shower, where he rinsed off my cock and blew me. He got me going enough that I turned him around, and pumped his hole again, right there in the shower. Between the water, the fact it was, again, bare and little oil still lubing his hole, it took me only five or so minutes before I could feel my jizz rising. This time, as I got close, he refused to let go, clamping down on my hips with his fingers and thrusting backwards so that I impaled him fully.

I couldn't hold back; 7 good squirts shot deep into his bowels. He took my load, the fucking whore.

We finished up, got out of the shower, and lay on my bed, talking quietly in the afterglow of good sex.

At this point, it was about 2130, and I was beginning to wonder to myself what the little woman would be thinking about her husband not being home yet.

Almost as if on cue, he decided to admit that he and his wife were having serious marital problems, were in counseling, but that he was likely going to leave her.

Then, to make matters worse, he admits he loves me and wanted to leave her for me.

Shit, fuck and holy fucking donkey crap.

Now, someone who is obsessed (lets be frank people, if you are admitting to loving someone after 4 fucks and a total of maybe 6 hours spent with them, there is no other word to use besides obsessed) and in the service with you can be a complicated thing. If you shun him, he could go berserk and do something rash (i.e. stupid and out you both in spite) or just be a complete asshole and make things unpleasant, for revenge.

Either way, my mind whirled at the implications as I told him I was flattered, and thought he was a great guy, but that I couldn't really live with myself for being the reason to break up a marriage. The fact that I didn't even know he was married the first time we fucked helped alleviate the guilt (a little).

I agreed to meet him later in the week, and that it would be best, for now, for us both to take some time and process things.

Holy fuck.

So, now I've got a hot stud of a man who wants to leave his wife and be my BF. The problem is that while he's a great fuck, I have zero interest in him beyond that. Intellectually, interests (other than the gym), hobbies... we don't line up at all. He's a dude; a hot, in shape, good-looking, fun to fuck but dumb as a box of rocks kind of guy. Not my type to date. Plus, while I was on the thought, my stud of a pilot is coming out next weekend, and if I am dating ANYONE in the near future it is DEFINITELY going to be him.

I escorted him out, giving him a last goodbye kiss, and watched his taillights disappear into the darkness as I tried to think of ways to get myself out of my latest mess.

Goddamnit, why do I get so many crazies?

~Mike
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End State

The picture contest I announced in my posting "Mirror, Mirror On the Wall" technically never closed. Funny, considering I said originally it would run only a week.

Time to wrap that up.

To my readers out there, I wish I had received more audience participation. It's cool though; I understand that the exhibitionists are the ones that tend to write blogs, while the voyeuristic are those who tend to read. That into account, it becomes clearer as to why I received 5 entrants.

Anyway, to those of you who did enter, I have a big, hearty THANKS! I appreciate it.

Unfortunately, I am not like the American public school system. I.E. not everyone is a winner. So, the e-mails and comments have been tallied, and I am pleased to announce that Pete C, from NYC is the winner. Pete, thanks for reading, your comments, and above all, your participation. To all my entrants, it was great that you took the plunge and put yourself out there.

Pete, you'll be getting a signed jock, dog tags (please let me know how you would like them engraved), and a surprise.

Shoot me an e-mail offline with your contact information (address, etc) so that you may receive your booty, so to speak.

I had to say that; I missed the International Talk-Like-A-Pirate day.

Yaaaar.

I’m finally 100% better and extremely horny. I’m headed to the gym soon, called the married guy I’ve hooked up with once or twice and hoping that I’ll be ramming the fuck out of his hole afterwards. More to come on that tomorrow, if it happens. SOMEONE is getting their hole wrecked tonight though, that’s for certain.

Good times!

~Mike
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Of Danes and Men

OK, so everyone has their weaknesses. They can be "cat-people" or "kid-people" or whatever sort of noun-people they choose to describe themselves as in regards to a subject/issue/creature that makes them go weak kneed. Personally, the thought of little kittens makes me think fondly of burlap sacks with rocks, and the very sight of small children makes me reach for immune boosters. Drippy, oozy things, kids.

Dogs though...I am definitely a dog-person.

Shade, my rather large, sadistically fun black lab, is a hold over from a soured relationship. My ex and I got the dog together. Judging from the fact that I still have him, you can see who won that particular “who gets what” battle. While I love Shade and would never give him up, he wasn't my first choice for a dog. I wanted to go with something a bit more...exotic. And large. I'm a big guy, I wanted a big dog. Big, BIG dog.

For the dog aficionados out there, I have two words to say to you: Blue Dane.

If this means nothing to you, first, shame. Shame on you. Second, I will enclose a picture, for your education benefit.

There is a point to this, however, and a sexual point at that.

I'm sure just about every guy out there (minus the really, really, realllllllly nasty ones) has had a "pity fuck" at some point in his life. Indeed, I have mentioned it before in past blogs. The sort of guy where you can't quite bring yourself to say "eh, he blatantly lied, I'm gone" or you slam the door in his face. Instead, you just kind of groan and sigh inwardly, fuck the dude and get the hell away from him as fast as possible.

Well...sometimes that does not go according to plan.

I met up with this guy this weekend that I have been chatting with on M4m4sex for quite awhile (see, I'm expanding my repertoire of sites?). He's been on my "If" list for awhile. As in, If I get really horny and If he can send three pictures in a row that look like the same guy, I’d fuck him. None of his pictures were ugly, I had seen about 8 and all were good looking, but the variability between each pic had me a bit nervous. It is not a good thing when you can't tell if the guy is the guy or just using someone’s picture to fake it.

Anyway, I was bored, horny, still recovering from the flu, and not really willing to drive. He, however, was willing to drive, horny, and didn't care that I was recovering from the flu (see, I was nice, and I told him).

Either way, it was ass on delivery and that was good enough for me.

Right up until he got there.

He arrived in a totally fagged out Pathfinder. I don't know how you rainbow-accessorize a freaking PATHFINDER to look like a princess-mobile, but between color, accessories, various HRC/Rainbow/Equality stickers, he had managed it. That was my first "oh crap". Then he got out of the car and I got my second.

He was tall, taller than I thought, standing at 6'4" or 6’5”. I'm not really a fan of tall guys, but in addition to being tall, he was also thin. Freakishly, Calista Flockhart-thin.

Beyond the fact that it looked like he weighed 130 pounds, and was cannibalizing his body as he stood there, he was decent looking. He had no ass, 1.4% body fat (if that), trimmed brown hair and again, no ass. Just bones.

Oy.

I brought him inside, we got naked, I didn't bother with small talk and we went to work. He was a passably good cock sucker, and I let him munch on my root for awhile. I kept my eyes closed, imagining myself with some hot guy, or just about anybody else, instead of his emaciated form. He succeeded in getting me hard and hot enough to want more, so I wrapped my schlong, put on some lube and slid it in.

I couldn't even fuck him very hard. He could take it so-so, but if I slammed his ass hard, it was literally so bony that it hurt my groin.

Fuck.

I used his hole, keeping my eyes closed and just focused on cumming as fast as possible. I came, apparently he did too, and we cleaned up. I wouldn't say that I hustled him to the door... but I moved with more alacrity than was necessary. As I walked him to his car, I noticed something I didn't when he arrived.

Taking up almost all of the back of his Pathfinder was a massive, beautiful Blue Dane.

Holy. Shit.

Shade got out, and the two started going berserk barking at each other. His dog, I swear to you this is true, Prince, was moving back and forth so violently that the Pathfinder was rocking back and forth like a rowboat in high seas.

I finally muscled Shade back into my house, came back and looked at Prince. My fuck let him out, and I could only marvel at the dog. He was perfectly behaved, now that Shade was gone, beautiful, well kempt and absolutely massive.

I had to see this dog again.

Where before I was only playing nice to show him the door and get the hell back to my movie (Men in Black), now I broached the subject...

"Hey bro, I had a great time."

"Yeah," he said, "you're hot, and fuck do you know how to use a hole!" **shudder**

"Well," I told him, "If you liked that, I certainly wouldn't mind doing it again sometime, maybe I could head to you since you came here. Get another good fuck in," I added to make sure he didn't think I was pursuing something more.

"Definitely man, come over anytime!" and he quickly gave me his address.

So, I now have another fuck scheduled for Mr. Blue Dane. I'm definitely not into the guy, but the dog... Fuck. What a dog!

Oh well, I can do a few pity fucks if I get the chance to play and see Prince again.


~Mike
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***NOTE: Already, I have heard some comments. Apparently, there are Seinfeld and Will & Grace episodes where a similar occurence happened. Well. Tough shit. I hated Will & Grace and thought Seinfeld so-so at best. I wrote what happened because it did, not because I saw it on TV.

The Flu and You (and me)

I've been pretty good about updating this since I got back. I've told you about the trouble I managed to get myself into while I was gone and some since I've been home. Unfortunately, over the last two days I've progressed from feeling a bit rundown to death slightly warmed over. Yes; I have the flu.

Lucky me.

While I will continue to update, I'm afraid that the sex (and subsequent stories of it) is on a temporary hold; I'm not always the nicest and most considerate of tops, but I am not such an asshole as to give people the flu just to get my nut off. At least, not yet.

I'm going back to bed (scary, since it's only 0904 and I've only been awake for an hour). I was lucky enough to be put on quarters, so no work until Monday. Hopefully I won't look and feel like the walking dead by then. When the boredom begins to really set in, I'll write up some classic Mike stories...i.e., things that happened from my life before I started this blog.

Before I go, allow me 2 minutes to share what I learned today, courtesy of the long-winded Doc at the clinic and your friends at the CDC:


Every year in the United States, on average:
+ 5% to 20% of the population gets the flu;
+ more than 200,000 people are hospitalized from flu complications, and;
+ about 36,000 people die from flu.
+ Some people, such as older people, young children, and people with certain health conditions, are at high risk for serious flu complications.

Symptoms of flu include:
+ fever (usually high)
+ headache
+ extreme tiredness
+ dry cough
+ sore throat
+ runny or stuffy nose
+ muscle aches
+ Stomach symptoms, such as nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea, also can occur but are more common in children than adults

How Flu Spreads
Flu viruses spread mainly from person to person through coughing or sneezing of people with influenza. Sometimes people may become infected by touching something with flu viruses on it and then touching their mouth or nose. Most healthy adults may be able to infect others beginning 1 day before symptoms develop and up to 5 days after becoming sick. That means that you may be able to pass on the flu to someone else before you know you are sick, as well as while you are sick.

See? Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

Time to crash


~Mike
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Getting jiggy and bustin' rhymes

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Can You Hear Me Now...?

There are many things that are grossly unattractive in the bedroom: obscene amounts of body hair, weird noises, disgusting smells, unsightly drips and, abnormal body disfigurements (both self inflicted and natural). If I am going down on a guy, I don't want to taste pus or any other penile drippage. If I am tossing a guys salad, I don't want to discover that he is incredibly poor at personal hygiene or has more warts than a toad. I like the body in its natural, non-biosphere diverse beauty.

Amen.

Beyond the viruses, disfigurements and smells, however, there is another, I ashamedly admit, thing that turns me off.

Disability.

Now. I say this in a way that is open, honest and completely without rancor. I don't have a problem, dislike, or animosity towards the disabled; indeed, as a Marine in this day and age, many of my friends have faced everything from traumatic brain injuries (TBI's) to loss of limbs, loss of sight or worse.

That said, while I have no problem beings friends and brothers with these heroes, I am crass enough to admit that I find it hard to get attracted to someone with physical impairment.

Sometimes, however, it's hard to judge what the impairment is.

Saturday I was feeling frisky. I'd gone out earlier that night with Zane and the crew and partied it up. I'd ended up making out with some hot frat boy, or so he claimed, following the UW loss to Ohio State. Tailgates, you have to love them: free booze, free food, and tons of hot guys looking for a piece of something. They just don't always get what they think they need...

Anyway, I'd spent awhile working on this frat boy, got him to make out with me, but then lost him as the crowd swirled him away. Zane and the rest of the guys were getting frustrated and were pushing to go up to Capitol Hill and hit the gay bars. At least there, you know the targets are hunting as much as they are being hunted.

So what the hell, I let them take me.

We went to Purr and I was there maybe 45 minutes before I decided to call it a night. I wasn't having a great time, and I didn't really feel like doing the gay scene for the night. I snuck out and headed back for Zane's apartment before they even knew that I was gone.

And what did I do the second that I got home? Grabbed my laptop and got onto Manhunt of course!

I had 24 messages waiting for me (I'd advertised Friday night that I would be in Seattle and available for the weekend) and I looked through the messages for the best one.

One quickly caught my eye: he was my favorite height (5'9"), had a great, tight body, toned but lean with the size of frame that I could easily hold down and rail and fling around all over the bedroom. Or kitchen. Whatever. He sported light brown hair in a buzz cut, which usually didn't do much for me, but he had a perfect hairline for it and a cocky grin to match. I love cocky, hot jock bottoms. Fuck.

I was sold.

His message was blunt and to the point:

"Saturday night, you, your cock, my hole, send me a text." Below that he had his number and his name, Eric.

Ding, we have a winner!

I texted his cell saying simple "This is Mike. Fuck now?"

I waited all of 3 minutes before the response came back.

It was simply his address and apartment number.

I was out the door in 2 minutes.

I got to his place, and it was pretty nice. I knocked on the door, a huge grin forming when the boxer clad stud before me smiled, and then all hell broke loose.

I've had aggressive bottoms before, but this one took the cake. Before I could get out a word, he'd grabbed me by the shirt, pulling me forward so hard he almost tore the cloth clean off my body.

I stumbled forward, he wrapped himself around me and kissed me so hard I wanted to check my fillings and make sure they were still there.

Good gods!

He unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them down to my knees in one pull. I stood there, a bit stupidly, still stunned at this boys aggressiveness. I was about to say something again, when he grabbed a fist full of my jammers (a type of underwear for you uncultured swine unfamiliar with the term) and ripped them clean off my body.

Now, I liked the aggressiveness, it was kind of a turn on with the switch in roles and definitely demonstrated he was into me. But, come on, he just ripped a $40 pair of underwear into shreds. I mean, that's just not cool.

His head started bobbing on my cock, and had it been good, I'd likely have enjoyed the hell out of it and forgotten about the torn jammers.

Unfortunately, it was, without a doubt, the singular worst blow-job I have ever gotten in my life. Hands. Down. My dick literally hurt afterwards, I think he was actually trying to eat it. I mean, if you have toothmarks on your rod after sex, there is something very disturbing and very, very wrong with the sex you just had.

I told him to stop.

He didn't.

I said it again, louder, trying to pull him off simultaneously.

He sucked harder causing me to almost deck him.

I screamed in his ear, leaning as far forward as I could, and he didn't even flinch.

That troubled me; I'm a pretty big guy, and the Marines, if nothing else, have given me the ability to be extremely loud.

Finally, tearfully, I pried him loose with about the same sensation you'd expect of a razor toothed leach the size of a chihuahua. He looked up at me with a surprised look, and I asked what the fuck his problem was. Couldn't he tell it hurt? I asked him, told him, begged him to stop. He stared at me, and it was then that I noticed something.

He was looking at me, but he wasn't looking at my face. Or rather, he wasn't looking at my face the way a normal person would.

It seemed as if he was looking at my mouth.

Oh, shit.

I covered my mouth as discretely as I could and coughed, then with my mouth still obscured, said that I was about to take a crap on his rug if he didn't give me a million dollars. He didn't bat an eye, or even give a sign that he'd heard me.

Certain, I dropped it, looked at him, and without making a sound, mouthed "Are you deaf?"

Even without a sound made, it was an uncomfortable, tense silence.

Then, he nodded.

I could understand someone not wanting to share their disability on an open forum like Manhunt. I could even applaud the fact that the boy was hotter than his pics, which is saying something, and he was everything he had advertised.

I could not, however, forgive the fact that it felt like I needed stitches on my cock, that he was horrible at cock sucking, and that his noises/moans were non-existent. Having sex with someone who can't hear you talking to him, the moaning slightly off, too quiet or too loud, the necessity of using only certain positions if I wanted any kind of verbal feedback... it just didn't appeal to me.

In fact, if he hadn't masticated my cock, I'd have likely gone limp instantly upon realization that I had a part-Helen Keller in the room with me.

OK, that's a bit harsh, I know. But, when your cock is screaming in pain and the hot fuck you were looking forward to plow turns out to be a huge disappointment instead, I feel moderately justified. It's been 2 days and I can't even beat off!

I didn't say another word. I pulled up my jeans over my bare, underwear-less ass, and left. Since I'd turned away, he wouldn't have heard anything I'd said anyway.

Goddammit. So now it's Monday night, I didn't get laid, and it will be who knows how long before I can even beat off.

Fuck.


~Mike

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Newest Entrant...

I guess I am running the Reader Picture Contest until further notice...

The latest entry, from Pete in NYC.

~ Mike

Pete
New York City, NY
Advertising
6'0
197
Top/Bottom - depends on the guy
8.5'' Uncut
Reading TopMarineBlog naked

Out of Many, One

It's Friday. All I can really say to that is thank the gods. Holy shit.

In favor of getting back to basics and faithfully describing the exciting aspects of my trip, I've written nothing about life since I've been back. Or about anything, really, outside of sex.

Back to the real world...

I've been back since the first of September, and came home to quite a mess.

I had piles of bills, junk mail, a very pissed off pooch, and the fun time of getting back into my routine at the gym.

Blah. Blah I say unto you.

I wish I could say that they found someone else to do my job while I was gone...but all that happened is that I came back to find a shit load of things to do, all with suspense’s either passed or rapidly approaching.

How's that for a fucking "welcome back".

I've been spending most of my free time hitting the gym, talking with Josh (I'm not whipped, but just enjoy talking to him... yes...that's it). I've spent a few days with Zane and the rest of the guys, gone out drinking, and hanging out in general.

Nothing really too surprising going on.

I've managed to meet up with a regular fuck and a new fuck since I've been back... nothing really outside the mainstream. The regular is average in just about every way: average looks, average skills in the sack, average quality fuck, nothing special but nothing bad. In his favor, he has eagerness and extreme reliability; having someone willing to drop anything and head over at any time has definite advantages.

The new guy looked like his pictures...mostly. It was one of those situations where you know the guy who shows up is the guy in the pic, but not nearly as hot. I mean, people DO take good pictures, and no one uses bad pictures of themselves. So, I was a bit disappointed in his looks, and while he wasn't the worst hole I’ve been with in the sack, he wasn't great. Definitely sub-par. I like bottoms who let me know they enjoy what I'm doing, either getting vocal or moving around, who get aggressive, who DO something. He was a complete limp fish, letting out maybe a moan. I think.

So, I made it quick, showed him the door and closed it before he could ask or say something. Meh.

I beat off twice later that night over the cam with Josh. I told him about both guys (I'm comfortable enough to do that, although I didn't mention the Navy boy on the plane), and he mentioned how he'd hooked up with a regular top. Apparently that would be the last time as he had screamed my name mid fuck and the guy was less than appreciative about it.

Hell, I don't know what his problem is, I think it's fucking hot!

Maybe I'm just biased...

I'm considering what to do tonight... From Wednesday afternoon till now I've received about 17 different messages from new and old fucks wanting to meet up tonight or tomorrow.

I'm not really in the mood for a sex-rampage, but maybe picking one and having a quick romp will be good.

Hmm... Decisions, decisions.


~Mike

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Up, Up and Away

So, I met a hot pilot stud of a man and spent three weeks keeping his hole moist with my cum. I briefly hooked up with a cute Army guy and got blown in the shower, and didn't really talk to again.

That’s two of three.

As the exercise drew to a close, I was pretty bummed. Josh was leaving a few hours before me and headed back to the East coast, and we both knew it would be awhile before we saw each other again. After spending every free moment I'd had for the last 3 weeks with him or inside him, it was a hard thought knowing he would soon not be there.

The day came and went, he almost cried, eyes shining with tears, while I was quiet and gruff. We hugged, he boarded his bus and that was the last I saw of him.

Minus the tons of pics, cams and vids we've exchanged back and forth since then.

At that moment however, even though I was depressed Josh was gone, and facing a sharp decrease in my sex life, things were back on track to be normal. IE, The Way Things Were.

The Army, in its infinite wisdom, chartered a commercial 747 to take us from the AFB back to the local McChord AFB in Washington. Fortunately, the flight was maybe half full; there was tons of room to sprawl out and relax.

I had an entire window row to myself, kept my legs draped out into the aisle, and slept as much as I could, trying not to think about Josh, or what I was going to do when I finally needed sex.

That wasn't long in the coming, it turned out.

The flight was full of people I'd never met before, Army, Navy, AF, and a few other Marines. Some had been at other sites for the exercise, some were flying home on leave or for other assignments. Regardless of why they were there, I knew very few.

Actually, only another Marine with whom I was not on the best of terms.

I got up and went to the bathroom, came back to my seat to find someone sitting in my row.

Great.

"Excuse me... but I'm using this row," I told him. The fact that we'd been in the air for 4 hours at that point was a bit odd… I wasn’t sure why he had moved all of the sudden, maybe sitting in the wrong seat by accident?


"Oh, I'm sorry. I just needed to..." he trailed off, then stared out the window.

Great, just what I needed, a nutball.

So I sat down next to him, letting the silence lengthen.

Truth be told, I didn't really mind.

He was shorter than I usually prefer, about 5'7", but adorably cute. He was young, maybe 20 or so, maybe, and had a slight latino look. Or maybe he was just tan. Either way, he was wearing gym shorts that showed legs with sprinter's calves, with a sprinkling of dark hair. Very very hot. His tank top was the equivalent of an upper body G-string, and revealed as much. He had a great chest, no upper body hair at all, and a nice flat, toned belly.

Black hair, brown eyes and a great smile with his left front tooth slightly chipped, and the kid was pretty damn good looking.

So short though.

Anyway, we sat there for awhile, me waiting for him to speak, him just staring out the window. Finally, he turned to me and said in a faint whisper, "I saw you with Ray."

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Now, I'm not really terrified of being outed... I mean, I wouldn't like it, and I would face a lot of shit before I got processed out from guys at the base, but it didn't scare me in the sense of "oh my god, I'm going to die, what will I do?" sort of way.

That said... it still took me a few minutes to close my mouth and have my stomach make its way back to its normal place in my body.

I opened my mouth two or three times to say something, but it didn't seem to be working. The kid smiled leaned closer, and whispered even more softly, "And I fucking want that cock of yours."

Well, shit. I just got picked up by a hot Navy boy at 37,000 feet.

I was not about to complain.

I got up and headed to the aft latrines. The flight, as I'd said, was empty and as you approached the back of the plane it was emptier still. Everyone in back was asleep, most of them passed out from the amount of liquor they'd had. I opened one of the cubby hole like stalls and held it open.

The kid was right behind me.

We closed the door, I picked him up and we started to kiss. I didn't really know what to expect, but he didn't wait for instructions. As we kissed, my neck hurting from bending so low, he managed to wiggle out of his shorts, leaving them on the floor. I ripped, literally, his torso-thread off his body, and he was standing there butt ass naked for me. And damn, what a sight.

He was definitely extremely toned, and for my biggest surprise, hung not much less than me. A good 8, 8.5. On his shorter frame, it looked more like 10". It was almost comical.

I stood there staring, but I didn't have long, he pulled my t-shirt off, and went to work on my jeans. In a second, I was sitting on the toilette cover, naked, the boy between my legs sucking me off.

Fuck it was hot.

I usually don't cum from head... the night with Ray, as I mentioned, was surprising in that it got me off. This kid... he knew how to treat a big cock. He sucked my load from my balls in less than five minutes.

I don't really know what I was expecting, I mean, he'd blown me, I'd cum, I figured that was it.

No, not quite.

He spit my load out onto my cock and smeared it all over my cock head. I started to ask, "Uh, wha-" are you doing... but I only got part of the question out.

Before I could finish, he'd turned around, aimed my still mostly hard cock at his hole and sat down.

Fuck.

He was tight... not as tight as Josh, I don't think that possible, and not as tight as Chris... I knew I wasn't his first cock, but I wasn’t very high up on the list either.

He sank about half of my cock in before I could tell it was really hurting him, and he started to withdraw.

Fuck that shit, he should have known what was going to happen with a big cock he wasn't used to.

I grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him down and thrusting up.

I managed to get it all in, but he was definitely fucking squirming to get off. He wasn't screaming, but the noises coming from him were definitely not happy.

I let go of his shoulders, put my arms around his waist and sat there like that, allowing him to get used to it while I kissed his neck.

Slowly, his hole relaxed, he stopped trying to escape and his head lolled to the side as I kissed and licked my way up and down his neck and shoulder.

Fuck yeah, nice hole, mile high club, and a hot boy. What's better than that?

He started the movement again, slowly going up and down on my cock. It didn't take long before I was behind him, standing, him leaning over the toilette, arms before him holding him up. I plowed the holy fuck out of that kid. I don't even think I fucked Josh that hard (well, yeah I did, but still). He took it and was whispering for more. And more he got.

Positions were hard to manage in that place, so I kept him there like that, and just focused on using the hole before me. Cum, for all you perverts out there, doesn't make the best of lube. As the friction increases it starts to get sticky and clumps up, especially with a bigger cock (more area to cover, so it happens faster). I don't know how long I spent fucking his hole, but before long I thrust one last time and blasted my second load up his hole.

Ahhhhhh, fuck thats hot.

As I sat there, post orgasm, I noticed the ropes of cum all over the bathroom wall. Apparently, he'd gotten his nut too.

I stood there, leaning on his back, kissing his neck again, while my mind reeled. I'd been away from Josh for maybe 9 hours, and I had already fucked another dude. Not just that, but I'd fucked him bare, goddamnit, and bred his hole.

Oy.

I wish I could say that had been it... but it was a 10 hour flight, and we still had a long way to go.

I never learned the Navy boys name, and I never learned how he'd seen Ray and I go at it... I didn't ask, name or how, and he didn't volunteer the information. But wherever his final destination was, whoever he went home to, he went with a load in his stomach, and 4 up his ass.

So, that was my time in the far far away land for almost a month. Yes, I had some decent sex, met some hot guys, and had some fun.

I've since been tested, twice, and so far clean. I have no doubts about Josh, but that boy... can't take too many chances.


That finishes my trip... now I just need to catch up to the guys I've met since I've been home...


~Mike

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Fæder ure, þu þe eart on heofonum...

Finally!

For my long time readers, you know that I have what used to be the ultimate homo phone (a RAZR). Unfortunately, the thing sucks. I mean, yes it’s slim, and for awhile, was the cool thing to pull out of your pocket and be seen with. That was the upside.

The downside, I found, was that the phone itself was slow, taking forever to move between menus. The battery life was horrible, the reception less than great, the feel of the buttons were horrible, and, to top it off, it could hold very few numbers/names and text messages. How the fuck am I supposed to ho around if I can't store stuff in my fucking phone???

I finally caved.

For those of you living under a rock, and therefore missed the announcement, Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple, just announced a price reduction for the iPhone. I couldn't force myself to spend $634.22 (the cost of the 8gb model with military discount), but I could damn well force myself to spend $324 and change on the now discontinued 4gb model.

I just got it!

The phone is a-fucking-mazing. It is going to completely revolutionize my sex life! Now I can access any site, any e-mail account, anything, anywhere and easily at that. It’s great, gets tons of ooo's and ahh's and I've already transferred some hot porn onto it as well.

So, I give the iPhone two big-Dicks up!



On a separate note...

I wrote the day before yesterday that I worked on improving my Interservice relationships. Which was very true. And I did, as I related with Josh. I don't love him, 3 weeks is a bit fast to jump to that, but definitely interested in him… but I still ended up doing two other dudes.

While I'm not a fan of the Army in general, they are too beaucracy bound and large to do things efficiently or well, a hot specialist (the army rank title for pay grade E-4) was in a tent 3 down from me. Even better, he sat right next to me in the TOC, where we both worked.

He was taller than Josh, about 6' even, brown hair, hazel eyes and maybe 170 or so. He was not ripped like Josh (I mean, seriously, I've never seen anyone in real life who is), but he had a nicely toned body with some really hot tattoos. His uniform, even better, jutted out from his backside due to a nice big bubble butt.

I spent almost all of my free time with Josh, and when we weren’t hanging out or fucking the shit out of him, I was at work. Fortunately, work meant I was next to this cute specialist.

I chatted him up over the weeks, learning a lot about him. Where he grew up, what he did for fun, etc. Neither of us had very busy jobs in the TOC, so most of our time was spent bullshitting, when he wasn't chasing one of the better looking chics there. He was cute, but not on the team.

Damn.

Or so I thought.

It wasn't until 3 days before we were scheduled to go back to the AFB and fly back stateside that I realized he was far from totally straight.

I'd just finished fucking Josh, this time managing to stay fairly clean doing it. He, the poor guy, was exhausted and elected to go back to the tent and crash. I still wanted a shower, so I grabbed my shit and went up to the bathhouse.

It was 0330 or so and it was, again, completely empty. I heard the shower running, but figured it was just left on. I got naked, grabbed my soap and face wash and went in.

Inside, rock hard, eyes closed, facing the wall and jerking off was the specialist.

Zing!

I moved as quietly as I could, sneaking up behind him, pausing about 2 feet away before saying loudly "Having fun, eh?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin.

He turned, a nice 7" cock rapidly shrinking as he moved, face scarlet with mortification. He looked like he wanted to crawl into the floor.

I'd rather he did something else.

"Shit. Mike. Um. I didn't know anyone was here. I mean. I was, uh. Mike..."

I laughed. "Relax Ray, I'm not going to tell anyone I saw you yanking your crank. Shit, I like showering up here late at night for the same reason," I told him smiling. To prove my point, I grabbed my now semi-hard cock and started to stroke.

Slowly. Very, very slowly, using the whole of my fist from base past the head and down again. Porn style.

I stood there, staring him in the eye, slowly stroking my rock hard cock, which I'd thought was done for the night as I just pumped two loads into Josh, waiting for him to react.

He swallowed, looking nervous, and then looked down. His eyes went wide when he saw my cock, red, swollen and lonely. I don't thinking he realized it, but the tip of his tongue touched his upper lip in a hungry gesture.

That was all I needed.

I let go of my cock, reached out and took ahold of him by the shoulders. Unresisting, he went slowly to his knees, kissing my pecs, my belly button, and finally swallowing my cock as he went.

Fuck yeah.

He was a pretty goddamn good cock sucker, he never gagged and he took my dick until his nose was buried in my pubes. Fuck, it was amazing!

One hand gripping my ass, the other juggling my nuts, he went to town.

I didn't mind a bit.

I just stood there, hot water spraying down on us, both of my hands now on his head and started to really fuck his throat. He tilted back a bit, opening up the back of his gullet and I just plowed his pie hole like I would an ass. Hard. Fast. Deep.

I looked down at him, kneeling there on the stone floor of the shower, eyes closed, face happy as he slopped my cock and almost stopped him. I was so, sooooo very tempted to spin him around, plunge my cock into his hole, and pump it full of my seed.

Having been with Josh, starting to care for him and breeding him daily... I couldn't bring myself to do that to another guy.

Fuck.

Apparently that was all I needed to start going soft. As in limp. Although, this bullshit emotion thing was starting to make me feel a creampuff, too.

God fucking damnit, I'm not supposed to feel bad about fucking hot guys!

Shit.

Sensing that something was up, as my cock started to go slightly limp, Ray redoubled his efforts. The increased pressure, sucking and added hand did what I thought wouldn't happen. With a grunt, I rammed my cock down his throat and fed him my third load of the day.

As I stood there, cock drained, quickly going limp in his mouth, I felt conflicted. It was a damn good blowjob, and I definitely appreciated it, but I felt bad hooking up with someone who wasn’t Josh. Which, considering Josh and I were simply hookups and nothing serious, was ridiculous.

This is why I just fuck and stay away from the dating shit. It just complicates things.

I didn't wait to see what Ray wanted or thought, I grabbed my shit, wanting to get out of the shower fast and went back to the changing area.

I wasn't followed.

I dried off, brushed my teeth and left before Ray even came out.

I didn't see him the next day on shift, and the last day of the exercise was spent sitting next together (fucking assigned seating) in stony silence.

He's a nice guy... but he's no Josh.

Oh well.


~Mike

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Interservice Relations: A How to Guide on Establishing Ties

So. It was 2426, or 0026 depending on your preference, when we made it back to the LSA. Most guys were having "dinner", the evening meal being served in the mess tent. As much as the slop being called "oriental chicken with rice" appealed to me, I had USDA Grade AAA+ prime beefy Air Force ass panting for my cock.

I was rather inclined to accede to that desire.

The tent was lit up as the Black shift had left and none of the Gold shift guys had yet gone to bed. I went straight for my bunk area, pulled out my running clothes, changing as quickly as I could. I grabbed a tiny gym bag/back pack that I used and stuck a poncho and a blanket inside. I glanced over to Josh's cot, and it looked like he was possessed; he was trying to put on a tank top while simultaneously put on his socks. He teetered, lost his balance and fell over.

We were the only two in the tent, so I walked over, picked him up, squeezing his hot bubble ass as I did, and whispered, "enough games stud, get that fucking hole moving," and gave him a slow teasing kiss before I turned back to my preparations.

If he was spastic before, it only got worse now. I'm not sure which was better; how badly he wanted it, or how funny it was to watch him get ready.

Soon we were both dressed, and with my bag over my shoulder, we left the tent and moved out of the LSA. We didn't talk, didn't waste the time. As soon as we hit the road, we broke out into a run. Shit, at that moment you could have signed both of us up for the Olympic team. We passed the second mile and began to get into the remote area I ran to yesterday. I didn't have a specific point in mind, rather I figured I'd know something when I saw it.

It was a clear night, and at this time no one else was out. I saw a bit of a trail through the brush off to our left, and without hesitation, steered us there. We slowed to a walk as we entered the tree line and began to hunt for a place.

Guys in the military, you know what happens when you're on a camp, base, post, whatever, and you go into the woods. Training uses much of an installation and you always find leftovers. About 200 yards from the road, we came upon what looked like graves; they were, in reality, the filled in remnants of foxholes (fighting positions).

I figured this was more than fitting.

I opened my bag, took out the poncho and spread it out over the mound. I then removed the blanket, using it for a bit of cushioning, and turned to Josh.

The horny bastard was standing there, naked, wearing nothing but his running shoes. That and a grin from ear to ear.

I grabbed his hand, pulled him close and kissed him. This time, I didn't let up.

I probed every tiny bit of his mouth with my tongue, our spit swapping back and forth. He turned out to be a bit of an aggressive little bottom slut, trying to invade my mouth. I let him for a minute, acquiescing as our tongues sparred, giving ground to him. While we tongue wrestled, I moved my hands all over his body.

Fuck, was he hot! There was not a bit of fat on him. Everything was firm to the touch, from his pecs to his thighs and most especially his ass. I could feel his nipples digging into my skin, standing out like stone peas on his chest. His cock was rock hard, stabbing me in the groin and leaking more precum than I've ever seen flow from a guy. I paused in our kiss to stare and make sure he hadn't actually cum, there was so much of it.

It was humid out. Our bodies were slick and covered in sweat from the run, and getting sweatier by the minute.

I couldn't stand it.

I'd gone a week without ass, the foreplay and kissing stuff, which I greatly enjoy, could come later. At that moment, I needed hole.

I picked him up and at the same time dropped down to my knees. If the impact on the earth was a bit jarring for me, it was very jarring for him. It didn't quite knock the wind out of him, but it certainly gave him pause.

As I picked him up, he instinctually wrapped his legs around my waist, likely thinking I was going to hold him and make out. So, he lay there on his back, dazed, legs around my waist, with me kneeling, cock against his ass.

That was all I needed.

Between my precum, our sweat, and his precum, I didn't worry about lube. Quite frankly, had I been dry, I still wouldn't have worried about lube.

At that moment, there was only one thing I cared about, and it was getting inside Josh. Fast.

So I did.

Using my thumbs I spread his cheeks, shifted my hips a bit and stabbed. Hard.

I've never wanted to be inside a guy so fast, so badly as I did right then. Between the lack of sex, and the hot fighter pilot jock spread before me, I couldn't control it. I speared him on all 9" in one fucking push.

All he did was grunt.

Holy fucking shit.

If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you'll remember Chris, the construction worker I had a thing for but lives in Wyoming (see blog post "The Morning After Pill"). Beyond the fact that Chris was hot, had an amazingly tight ass, he was also the last guy I'd fucked bare.

Shit, had I been missing out.

Chris, tighter than some of the virgins I've been inside, had NOTHING on Josh. I've never in my life been inside any hole, man or woman, that was as tight as this kids pucker. It wasn't just that half inch firm grip you get just from the sphincter around your cock; it was a tight, moist, hot vise that ran the entire length of my tool. It was absolutely amazing.

Scared that I'd cum if I moved an inch, I held it there. I stared down at him, and the look on my face must have been interesting, 'cuz the little shit started to laugh.

He pulled me down, giving me a sloppy wet kiss as my cock pulsed inside him, wanting to explode. The kiss ended and he just whispered, "I'm good, stud."

Cocky, arrogant little fucking shit.

So, I wiped the smile of his face.

Fingers pinching his nips, hard, I put my weight against the back of his knees with my shoulders, pushing his legs back and exposing more of his hole. I shifted my hips, angling my cock to stab upwards and began to pound. He lay there, mouth going wide, hands gripping my biceps hard enough to make me wince, as I rammed him. I knew right where his button was, and while he was tight and knew how to work his hole, it was pretty obvious he had never had a hung power top who knew how to really use a bottom go at him.

It lasted about a minute.

Usually the bottoms tease tops for exploding too fast.

This was not the case, here.

Between the nipples and my merciless pounding of his prostate, Josh couldn't last. His head tilted back and he screamed. "HOLY FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM!"

And cum he did.

He fucking exploded; no other word covers it. The first few spurts went past his head, landing somewhere in the dirt. The next several landed on his forehead, cheeks and chin, before the orgasm began to slow and he covered most of his chest and abs in his goo.

He wasn't the only one.

If he was tight before, his orgasm tightened it tenfold. As soon as his fuck-hole clamped down on my dick I got one more thrust before I came. I filled that boy up to his fucking tonsils with my cum. I fucked him bare, bred him and didn't give a shit. All that mattered at that moment was making him take every last tadpole I had in my nuts.

It was the single most powerful orgasm I've ever had in my life. It almost hurt.

It was incredible.

I collapsed on Josh, cum splashing down the sides of his chest, both of us panting. I lay there looking into those grayish-green eyes and smiled.

"Mike. That... Shit. I don't know WHAT that was. I've heard tops claim to be able to make bottoms cum just from fucking...but I've never really believed it. Fuck!" he said.

Fuck indeed.

I didn't say anything, I just lay there, my cock going semi hard inside him, my cum leaking out of his hole slowly, forming a growing puddle beneath us.

I've never seen so much sperm from just two orgasms. It was everywhere.

Fuck, that was hot!

We lay there for awhile, silent, me on top, him beneath, and just stared at each other.

I could tell, from the look he had, he was pulling a Chris. By that, I meant, getting attached.

The problem was, I couldn't say I wasn't either.

Goddamnit. I find a hot guy, a fighter pilot jock stud boy, easily the best ass I've ever been in, I fuck him bare our first time and have the best sex of my life, and I get a whole three weeks to spend with him before I go back to the Seattle area and he goes back to the East coast.

Shit.

With that thought I sighed. Loudly. He looked at me with a "Is something wrong?" look on his face, but I just smiled. If I only had three more weeks, I needed to make sure I enjoyed it.

The thought got me hard.

I lowered my head and kissed his mouth.

Last time I'd railed him and abused his hole. Now I focused on pleasuring us both, moving my cock in circular motions to hit everywhere inside his cum-sloppy asshole while thrusting slowly into him.

We didn't make it back to the LSA until 0545. And then we still had to shower.

We looked like something out of a horror movie; hair stuck up from dried cum, bits of dirt and brush stuck everywhere, it was disgusting.

It was fucking hot!

Luckily no one was awake. We grabbed our shower stuff and went to the bathhouse. It was empty; even the native there to take names was gone. We undressed, got into the shower, and washed each other off.

It wasn't a great idea, with open showers and all, but I couldn't resist picking him up, thrusting him against the wall, and sinking my cock into him one last time for the night.

Judging by how he panted, moaned and eagerly took load number six, I think he wanted it too. Just a little.

I spent every day for the next three weeks inside Josh. We never went at it that long again, it was almost 0700 by the time we made it to our racks, but not a day went by with him not carrying at least two of my loads inside of him.

I don't condone bareback sex... lord knows there is enough stuff out there to catch, but I trusted Josh, and sometimes, with a guy like that, you just have to say fuck it.

Josh was the hottest guy I've ever had the pleasure to fuck, and more than that, the little shit took a bit of me with him when we left. We're already planning his visit in 3 weeks, and I plan to spend 95% of that time in him, in bed. Well, mostly in bed.

We'll have to plan an arboretum trip and relive our outdoors fucks sometime...


~Mike

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Back to Basics

It's been awhile since I have gotten down to what most people want to read: sex. Hardcore, unadulterated, talking-about-plowing-boy-hole, hot fucking, dirty, sex.

Far too long.

Anyway, this is about my life, in and out of bed, and sometimes that gets sidetracked. But. That also means I'm more than a bit behind in relating some of the guys I've gotten myself into.

Quite literally.

Let’s get started addressing that.

So, I found myself in a land far, far away, about 36 hours after I was informed that I would be going on temporary duty to "assist" in a training exercise. Now, the training itself sucked monkey nuts. It was boring. I did very little, and most of the time even when I was needed, it involved very little actual participation. That's the fucking Army for you. Draw in people from all the services for 3+ weeks of fun when in reality we could have done it in 3 days. Fun.

So beyond the fact that I got to spend time in a tent, where it was hot as balls and the locale smelt of kimchee, I had a semi decent time. I got to do a lot of reading, which I enjoy. I got to meet some cool guys. Most importantly, I worked on improving my inter-service relationships.

Three relationships, in fact.

Ever since Top Gun came out, the thought of having sex with a hot, cocky, swaggering fighter jock loomed large in just about EVERYONE's mind, to some degree. Men, women, whatever. You go to Pensacola, Panama City, anywhere where there is training and/or bases for pilots and you can can witness this first hand.

Trust me, I'm certainly not immune to this fantasy either.

Imagine, however, if you have one such swaggering, insanely hot, Tom-Cruise-would-mortgage-his-scientologist-soul-to-look-this-good pilot who is stuck in a tent with you for three weeks. Further imagine that the latrine, shower, and sleeping facilities are all open; no dividers, no privacy, no surprises. Everything is seen.

That is the position I found myself to be in.

Thank. God.

After the third day of living together, even in a 23 man tent, I knew my hot pilot was a fag. Call me crazy, but the fact that he spouted a very obvious, and rather nice, tent in his PT shorts the first time I stripped naked in front of him may have clued me in. That, and the fact that somehow from then on he always managed to be at the showers at the exact same time as me.

I was showering three times a day.

Hmmm.

Josh. What a stud! Blond hair, 5'10" (he claimed 6', but there is no way in hell), and a solid 175 pounds of utter cockiness. His eyes weren't blue, which you would assume for his coloring of hair and skin, but rather a grayish green that seemed to change colors, very noticeable and very VERY hot. The man looked like he'd been a gymnast at the Academy, if he had told me he was, I'd have believed him. His abs were popped, his arms defined, and he had an ass on him that could quite easily de-shell a pistachio in half a second or less. Capped with a quite nice 7.5" or so cut cock, he was a looker.

And he knew it.

Fortunately, he was also horny as fuck, and wanted dick. Judging by the way he followed me around like a lost puppy, chatting me up in that cute, adoring little-brother way every second I was within eyeshot, it gradually came to dawn on me who he wanted it from. I mean, you beat me over the head with a bat often enough and eventually I get the point.

No, I knew after about 30 seconds with the stud he was a 'mo. About 2 minutes past that, I knew he was a bottom. The problem as those first few days went by wasn't getting him into bed; it was, quite literally, FINDING a bed. As I've said, there was no privacy anywhere, no dividers, no way to get a hot piece of ass unseen. The exercise was on 24 hour operations, split into Gold (day) and Black (night) shifts. There was never a time you could find a quiet corner somewhere and pillage some hot hole.

It took me a few days to get my bearings of the cantonment, see what I could/couldn't get away with, and get the schedule for the exercise down.

Once I managed that and I knew the When, and I definitely knew the Who, What and Why, all I needed was a Where.

That was the problem.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find a building I could get into where I could pork Josh. Short of an out-of-the-way porta-jon, there were no options. And the porta-jon, in my mind, was NO option; even I have some standards.

Between the jetlag (Seattle is 16 hours behind where I was), the fact that my shifts had changed, from Black to Gold, and the damn heat, I wasn't sleeping phenomenally well. I woke up on the fourth night at about 0330 and couldn't go back to sleep. After laying there in the dark, trying to drown the snores from the cot next to me, I finally got up, pulled on my shoes, reflective belt (it's a military thing), shirt and went out for a run. I figured I would sweat a bit less in the early morning.

Hah. I wish.

It was still humid as hell, and after about the fourth mile I was just as sweaty as when I ran during the day. At least it wasn't miserably hot, though.

As I approached the turn around point, I noticed my shoelace was untied and stopped to tie it. I looked up and was surprised by the amount of stars that I could see. It was dark; very, very dark. Looking around, I realized there was nothing around me, I was out in the middle of nowhere.

It hit me.

I tied my shoe, and ran like hell back to the LSA. I grabbed my shower kit, towel, shower shoes, and headed up to the bathhouse, whistling the whole way.

I'm glad that only a few of the natives were there, more so that I could claim not to understand them, because I was happy as a clam and sporting a semi the whole time I was in the shower. Let me tell you; 9" of cock at half mast is rather noticeable, and it made for a great deal of talking and pointing.

I saw Josh at lunch. He came over, flashed his bright white smile and launched into such a rapidly eager conversation I could only sit there amused and nod occasionally when he paused. The fact that I was rubbing my bulge under the table and imagining his thighs clamped down around my waist wasn't helping my attention much, either.

Coming back to reality, I cleared my throat and he lapsed into silence, looking at me expectantly. I told him about this morning, that I couldn't sleep and decided to go on a run. I mentioned how much nicer it was running in the cool morning, even if it was still humid. He nodded, and said he could understand that. Smiling, I set the hook.

"Well, awesome bro. I was hoping you would be interested in running with me. You know, it can be so much better doing it with a partner," I told him, huge grin on my face.

For a second, his face was blank. A microsecond. The next moment, he looked like he'd just been told he was the newest $324 million Powerball winner.

"Mike, that'd be fucking awesome! I need to improve my run time (doubtful), and I bet there are all sorts of...techniques... you can teach me," he said.

The fact that he reached down and casually rubbed at the crotch of his flight suit showed he wasn't hoping for pointers on his running technique.

I smiled back and just said, "Josh; be ready to learn more than you bargained for."

With that last rejoinder, I grabbed my tray, and left the mess tent before he could say another word. I wanted the cocky little slut to be panting, eager and ready for my rod.

I avoided him the rest of the day. When I saw him coming, I'd duck away, or launch into a conversation he couldn't intrude into. I could tell as the end of the shift came he was bursting with impatience and frustration. Just as I wanted.

Shifts were 12 hours, running from midnight to noon, noon to midnight. As I left the security checkpoint following the end of our shift, I heard a shout of "wait up" behind me.

I didn't.

Within seconds, I heard the pounding of boots on pavement pursuing me and finally a panting, flustered, bitchy pilot was walking beside me.

"Dude. What the fuck. You've been avoiding me all day. That’s fuc-"

He didn't get any further.

I spun to the side, grabbed him hard by both biceps, lifted him up off the ground and mashed my lips against his. It was risky; we were on the road going back to the LSA where anyone could see, but it was midnight and we were alone. Either way, I kissed him, tongue flicking his, mouth demanding, searching, grasping, devouring everything he had. He melted, going boneless, as I held him there, suspended above the ground. Only seconds, but feeling like hours, and I pulled back and set him down. He staggered. Turning, I resumed walking back to the tents.

After standing there for a minute, dazed, he caught back up.

"Um. Wow. So. Mike. You're..."

I laughed. "Yes, Josh, I like guys. Which you knew. Stop acting surprised and get ready for what’s coming," I told him.

"No, no, no," he quickly said, "What I was trying to say is that you are a fucking AMAZING kisser. Holy fuck, I've never felt anything like that before!"

I paused for a second, stopping again in the middle of the road. I looked at him, blond hair glinting slightly in the crescent moon light, teeth flashing in his grin. I looked down and noticed not only was he tenting, his flight suit sticking out noticeably as he stood there, but there was a spreading wetspot from his precum.

"Just wait for tonight, Josh. You'll see."

We kept walking back to the tents.

"Mike, I know you were thinking about 0330, but wouldn't it make more sense to go now? We could go on our... run, shower, then go to bed without having an interrupted nights sleep."

Thinking about that, I looked over at him and smiled. "You really want my fucking cock up your hole right now, don't you, you fucking slut?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"Yes. Fucking goddamn YES," he said.

Heh.

"Alright, fighter jock, lets go get changed."

I think you know what happened next.

~Mike

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And the voting continues...

Alright men. The lucky/brave few have posted themselves here for your review pleasure; now, head to the polls! Winner is getting a pair of TopMarine dogtags inscribed as they wish, and a signed pair or worn 2xist varsity underwear, with my scent still on them. Sick, disgusting, perverted... I figured it's just the right sort of thing for such a contest.

Please send those ballots in! Remember, comment with the name of the person and YEA or NAY and any additional comments in the body. Hope to get some results in the morning!

~Mike

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Sunday morning's wake-up surprise

All,

Woke up to several e-mails in my in box. Better late than never! Keep them coming,

~Mike

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BikeGuy
Cleveland, OH / Washington DC
6'2"
187
Vers Btm
8"cut















L
28
Milwaukee, WI
6.0
155(working on gettiung bigger)
Never measured my dick size (above average is all i can say)
Vers but no girlies on my back.

I like hot porn, hot guys, lots of books, movies and video games















Steve
22
Ithica, NY
5'10"
160
Bottom, love to get pounded
















Kyle
31
Chatanooga, TN
5'11"
156
Vers/Bttm.
Love toys!














Dave H
38
5'9"
150
All bttm
Luv tke charge dudes with big cocks

And the first entrant...

Mark
SoCal
33
6-2
220lbs
7c thick

Ex-DivII baseball player (3b); teammate to bond with; want to fucking win the lone Top Marine's "bat" and let him steal home.



Ok men, I have to say I am extremely disappointed thus far. I was hoping for at least SOMEONE out there to have testicles and show some guts. Very sad. Anyway, if no other entrants, Mark will win the prize(s)

~Mike

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Lately, I've been getting some interesting things from my readers. Pics, in various states of undress, invitations to everything from dinner to sex to a family BBQ (which is a bit strange for a first meeting, I think) and everything in between. I'd like to try something new to stir the proverbial pot.

You've all seen my shadowed mug shot, its up on the blog for all to see. Well, its my turn, and your turn: I'm doing a picture contest.

Here are the rules:

1) You can submit any type of picture that you wish, from a face shot, to a faceless body shot, to... whatever.

2) Judging will be done by you, my readers. All comments, and I mean ALL, will be added. The picture that gets the most comments in favor, wins.

3) The prize: 2 sets of TopMarine dogtags, inscribed however you want. Complete with silencers.



Now, to submit:

Each time I post an entry, I put a link that says "E-mail Mike". E-mail me your stats to include Name (first name or as much as you want to include), where you're at (however detailed you want, can be country, state, city, street, whatever), vocation (job field), Height, Weight, and any other info you want to include

So, a sample would look like:

Mike
Seattle, WA, USA
US Marine
6'1"
217 (getting bigger!)
Top
9"cut
Likes long walks on the beaches

I'll post your stats with your pic.


For the judges, that would be everyone who reads the blog, this is how to get your two cents in:
Write a comment. The title of the comment should read the name of the person you like, with YEA or NAY, and then anything else you want to add.

Example:

MIKE, YEA
He's hot and I totally want him to plow me!



I'll leave this open till Sunday night, and we'll announce the winners on Monday. Remember, anything goes. And I'll add in a special surprise for the winner, to make it worth your while.

I'll post the pictures and stats as they come in, I will stop taking judging comments Sunday, September 9th at 2000 Pacific Daylight Time.

Anyway, I figured it would be fun for me to see some of YOU, and for you to get an idea of who reads this crazy thing. Don't let me down guys, if I only get one or two I'm gonna be pissed!

I'm almost finished with some posts I am working on simultaneously, so keep checking back

Hoorah!

~Mike

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Lessons in Writing, 101

So, it typically isn't my style to insult my readers. I mean, you, my readers, are the purpose that I spend the time to do this. Other than the Prude post I did with the asshole whose opinions and irritating condescension, I have mostly enjoyed hearing and reading the replies from ya'll.

That said, there have been/are a few others (about 5 all told) who make constant comments (that I do not choose to post) and send me hate mail and/or e-mails of extremely graphic, persistent, begging nature. Guys: Don't beg. Ever. I don't care how hot the cock is, how young and ripped the hole is, it just is not worth your dignity. Plus, its a complete fucking turn off. If you want a "masculine top who is a man's man" and you beg worse than a virgin bitch on prom night...yeah, that type of guy isn't going to be turned on by it. Lord knows, I'm sure as fuck not.

So, this guy was one of my first readers. He started out very cool, yet over time the hints of "you're a great guy, not my type and not really looking off here bro" were mistranslated by him into "I need you, please, let me fuck you now."

So Jay, here is to you. I don't know how else to say it, so you now have your own post all about you.

Cheers bud!


*****Begin Message*****

I have talked to you for a while now and so one of these days this will come true. I want you to show up at my house and knock on my door...i want you to push your way into my house and when the door is closed i want you to lock your lips on mine. I dont want you to hold back so i grab your hand and help u rub on my cock. Then i take my hand and run it down your pants and grab your rock hard cock. We make out for a little while till u push my head down to your cock and make me lick it through your pants. Then you open my pants and ram your finger in my hot hole! i lube u up really well with my spit so that when i take your cock into my ass it slides right in. At first you moan pretty loud and i make u aware there is some pain but u force it in neway and fuck me bare, hard and good. So good that you moan and tell me you want more, and u take it. I stroke on my cock while u fuck my ass and u keep telling me to take your load! I take you in every position i can and you make it hurt hard and good!

u game?

Jay


*****End Message*****


Jay... sorry bud, but there is not a snowballs chance in hell that I will ever have sex with you.

Allow me, please, to detail why:

1) I do not care for guys significantly older than myself, sexually. I told you before I think you are a great guy, and being friends was no problem, but you couldn't do that. You're 15 years my senior; not my thing. Deal with it.

2) I work out, hard, and take pains to be in both good health as well as good shape. I am not a chubby chaser. You haven't seen a gym or a non fast food restaurant in a decade, at least. Not healthy. Can we say, diabetes?

3) Not a bear fan; bears are in Zoos. It's called a r-a-z-o-r. I don't mind body hair, not usually my thing, but you are a gorilla.

4) I am NOT, NOOOOT, looking to have bareback sex with someone I meet off the internet. I am not looking to have bb sex, period. If you are, I'll give you my commisseration now for your impending positive HIV test.

5) You live in Louisianna. Why the hell would I EVER go to Louisiana for sex???

6) You are clingy. Which you told me yourself. Never a good thing.

7) You write at a third grade level. Your conversation is even worse. I am not looking to fuck someone who can't add three to nineteen. Its just a turnoff.

And 8) I hate smoking! Bleh.

Anyway, I'm sorry that I had to resort to doing it this way. Unfortunately, no or not interested seems to have not been received. So, one last blunt time: I AM NOT INTERESTED.

More to come tomorrow guys,

~Mike

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Rant 2: Dr. Reality Check to ER...

So. I took some readers advice regarding how to get rid of Klingons, and not the Star Trek type. Some of you offered really good advice; some of you couldn't advise your way out of a wet paper bag. Either way; the advice that I took, and the other steps I took of my own devising... haven't been successful. There is something, it turns out, mighty powerful about denial and the magnitude of the human ego that just allows people to turn "GO. AWAY. I-DON'T-LIKE-YOU" into something that resounds within their minds as "I'm grouchy today, call me tomorrow, I love you". Good gods.

So. I was stuck in the middle of nowhere for 3 weeks. I got to see plenty of hot, hoooot guys (where I was, we had no privacy. Open tents, open shower, open toilettes...) but not much in the way of action (which is not to say none), and little to do in our free time.

And guess what I got to deal with when I checked my e-mail.

Here it goes:


***** Begin E-mail*****


From: ********** Mailed-By: gmail.com
To: *********
Date: Aug 27, 2007 3:21 PM
Subject: Dude, hello....?

Can i just say though; what was really difficult was knowing you could have sex with me one day and know that is was nothing to you....that you could just go and have sex with another guy, and then another any other time and I was absolutely nothing to you.

that said...regardless of how you feel toward me, I will be in Seattle this weekend. I hope we can hook up. I am going to LeFeaux at Julia's with my friends on Saturday night. I am buying an extra ticket for you. If you show up that would be great. If you don't, then I guess you don't.

I have already bought the ticket. If you don't want anything to do with me, then tell me so I can give the ticket to someone else. I hope that is not the case, but when I'm ignored on purpose like this, 90% of the time, it is the case.

XYZ


***** End E-mail*****


Now, you have to have a serious mind block to be doing something like this. It was almost two weeks before I was able to check my e-mail for the first time. I had a total of 34 missed messages from him. Some were funnier, most more pathetic, than the one above, but none details the pathos of the situation than this one.


So, he hasn't spoken to me in weeks. I was out of country (not that I told him that, hell I didn't even have time to tell my beloved readers, and he was far down the list from them), and not inclined to deal with drama from 9,000 miles away. But, when I got the latest e-mail in the series, and it says "I bought you a ticket even though you ignore me and I want you to come", that speaks to me of serious psychological and stalker issues. Furthermore, I don't appreciate having the time and money spent on the ticket used as a guilt-lever in an attempt to force my hand into a situation I have no desire to be in.

Men, I tell you this. If you are the type who wears your heart on your sleave and fall for a guy that you have hot sex with the very first time, you have issues. Period. Some of you told me I was a calous asshole and was mean to the guy, others told me I was spot on. My turn. If you think that sharing a meal and then fucking for a few hours equates to a fucking ring on the finger, wake up and grow a goddamn brain. Its sex. Period. Granted, many people, even myself, attach emotion to it, but thats ridiculous. NO ONE should think they have claim or expectations after A NIGHT. One. Uno. To think that, you are kidding yourself. If you both think there is something there afterwards and want to pursue it, thats one thing. But to think there is an expectation for the other party to, is pathetic.

A hookup is not meant to be the way to meet your husband. A fuck is not the way to look for your next love. For all you bottoms, and occasional tops I suppose, out there who took his side, then I tell you this: you do not live in the real world and your expectations on life and love are seriously skewed. More so, if you don't believe me, see a psychiatrist. I can guarantee you they will say you have serious emotional dependency issues if you think a night of play means he has to love you and become one. Get a grip!

Anyway, thats my rant. I spent most of last night, up until about 0400, balls deep in a boy or three. I'll fill you in soon, but for now... I'm taking a nap.


~Mike

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We Now Return to Our Previously Scheduled Program...

So, it appears that I have done something right. I went into this whole blogging thing as a way to share what I do with people, and get some feedback. Call it exhibitionsim lite.

Anyway, as you can tell from the dates between one blog and the next, which was done by my friend Zane, I was out of the loop for quite awhile. Here's the scoop.

Over the last 7 years the military has increasingly become focused on "jointness". For my military readers out there, you know what I mean. Since Rumsfeld, for better or worse, came onto the scene as Secretary of Defense, he forced the branches to merge services, participate more in training and merge doctrine where applicable and making sense. Some of this new focus on jointness works; sometimes it does not. Regardless, it is now the reality that we work with, so that is how it is.

What this means, however, is that we now support and work with the other services to a much greater degree than before hand. I was gone for 3 weeks after getting an extremely short notice (30 hours) to pack my things and prepare to deploy TDY (Army lingo actually, fitting since that was who I was supporting, temporary duty assignment) in support of a training excercise. Word to the wise; never let your supervisors know you have critical or rare skills sets if it isn't dicumented. Bad idea.

Anyway, I'm home. I've got piles of bills and mail, tons of e-mail and a lot of plans. I'll post again in a day or two, and I'll have some interesting stories. My last major blog, The Bitter Prude, generated 7 or so comments, and quite a few private e-mail responses. I'm going to talk about that first, then I'll give you a taste of what I was up to. So to speak.

~Mike

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