Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Snapshot: Ex-Navy

I'm not quite sure what it means for a kid to retire from the Navy at 23.  That's what he said to me on Grindr when I asked him if he was working today.  A short while later, I had the beefy, thickly built kid stripped of his shirt and then twisted his arm behind his back to fold him over onto my kitchen island.

He called himself a bear but he was smooth.  Even cub was a stretch.  Pale.  Large tattoo of a cross over his back made even more prominent from the bright, white canvas it was on.  Another of hands cupped in prayer underneath, passages written to his side.  And now, his ass full of my cock.  And as full as his ass was, my place was completely empty.  The slap of skin on skin echoing across the tile floors of the kitchen.  His grunts cut rapidly in the air with nothing to impede it.  I was just moving into this house and needed to unleash the stress of jamming all my shit together into a small little box on wheels.  Poor lad.  And I didn't have much time.  I was there just to let a couple people in to turn on the utilities, deliver new furniture, and all the other things you have to do make the transition of home to home smooth.  It was a hard, quick, relentless fuck that lasted just a couple minutes before I shot inside him.  And when he felt my cock pulse inside him and paint his insides white, his ass sucked my cock in and he shot off, hands-free, christening the cabinets.  He shot hard.  Didn't get a drop on his jeans that were bunched around his ankles, shoes still on.

When he left, I noticed he walked kinda funny.  And no, that wasn't from me.  And that made me ache a bit.  The ex in ex-Navy.

I was sad.

I wanted to take it back and do it differently.

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