College was getting to be a drag. I mean, like I figured that leaving High School
and going to college would open up the world for me. At least a little bit. Four
years in a Florida High School just isn't the best environment for a young stud
looking for sex with another young stud. I mean, get serious! But with all the
studying, gymnastics practice, visiting my parents and trying to write papers and
complete assigned projects, my social life was hurtin'. Or more like
non-existent.

At five foot, five inches tall and one hundred and six pounds, I'm not exactly
what you'd call a brute. Neither the football team or the basketball team are
beating on my door trying to get me to join up, but I'm doing OK with gymnastics.
I'm on the freshman team. I don't think I'll ever be Olympics material, but the
coach is seriously considering me for a spot on the varsity team. He's been
giving me special attention, and even arranged a one hour a week special training
session with just he and I.

The coach is an ex-Marine, and with his burly body and buzz haircut, he looks it.
Ever since I first saw that commercial on TV where the shining knight turns into
that fantastic Marine in Dress Blues with that cool sword, I've had the serious
hots for going to bed with a Marine stud. I don't think the coach is going to be
the answer to my dreams though. He's so straight, he makes a ruler look like a
plate of spaghetti. He is nice to me though, and has spent some time telling me
about Marines and boot camp and what it is to be "One of the few..."

So anyway, my freshman year went by with me making only a few friends and having
my sex restricted to jacking off and watching a couple of blow jobs shared with a
couple of old buddies from High School who went to work instead of college. Just
before summer break the coach told me that if I'd sign up for at least one
academic class during the summer he'd put me on the special training squad he was
running for the varsity gymnastics team that summer. If I worked out OK, I'd be a
member of the varsity team in the fall when the new school year started. There
were only two other freshmen who had been invited so I felt pretty special. I
talked it over with my dad and he decided that it was more important for me to
take the offer than to work that summer. He said that if I got at least B's in my
classes (there were two I wanted to take) and made the team, he'd not only spring
for the tuition and books, but he'd give me a bonus of the spending money I would
have earned working at a job. My dad is so cool!

So the day before summer session started I found myself moving my stuff into a
room in the dorm the guys in the summer athletics program were using. Since the
other two freshmen had decided to room together, I ended up with a room to
myself. I was just putting away the last of my stuff when there was a knock at
the door and the coach walked in.

"Hey, Jon." the coach said to me in his big, booming voice. "An old Marine buddy
of mine sent some of his boys to me for special training during the summer
session. I ended up with one extra. Do you mind if he shares your room?"

From behind him the source of all my fantasies entered the room. Six foot one of
solid hunk wearing Marine Corps Dress Greens and carrying a duffle bag in his
left hand. A firestorm of lust swept over my body as my dick turned into a rigid
pole sticking down the leg of my new Levis' and I didn't hear another word the
coach said as the blood pounded in my ears. The green hunk stuck his hand out and
I automatically responded. As my hand disappeared into his warm handshake I felt
a warm mess shooting down my leg.

The best I could manage was, "Uhh... Uhh... No problem coach. Whatever you want.
Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom..." I pushed past the coach and the
mountain of green muscle and rushed down the hallway to the communal bathroom. I
locked myself into one of the stalls and dropped my pants. There was cum all over
my leg and the inside of my Levis. What a fucking mess! I cleaned it up as good
as I could with toilet paper and then just sat on the crapper and tried to catch
my breath and get my thoughts together.

Obviously, I'd fucked up big time. Popping an erection and blowing my wad like
that. No way the coach was going to let that young Marine stay in a room with a
pervert that reacted like I had. Now the only problem was whether the coach was
going to throw me out of the athletics program or even have me expelled from
school. I sat there and tried to figure out what to do and how I was going to
tell my dad until my butt felt like lead and both my legs had gone to sleep. I
finally got up and made myself presentable and shuffled off down the hallway back
to my room, feeling like my whole world had just fallen apart. I felt like crying
and really didn't know what to do with my life.

I opened the door and drug my feet into my room. There, sitting at attention on
the edge of one of the rooms two chairs was the young Marine. As soon as I walked
into the room he stood up and faced me. His duffle bag was propped up against the
wall and he hadn't even started to unpack or move in or anything.

"Look. I'm sorry if I upset you. The coach told me to stay here and that I would
be OK. If it bothers you because I'm a Marine or something I'll take my stuff and
go tell the coach he'll just have to find somewhere else to put me."

"No," I mumbled, "go ahead and unpack your stuff. You just surprised me is all."

And so started the most miserable week in my eighteen years of life. When I
wasn't in class or working out in the gym I hid out as much as possible, and when
I had to be in our room with Zack (I'd overheard one of his Marine buddies call
him that) I just did what I had to and tried to keep my eyes off of him. I don't
think we said ten words between us all week long.

Zack was a real outgoing, easy-to-like person and was soon popular with most of
the jocks. He was attending school as part of an experimental program. He and his
friends were training to be instructors. Taking Education classes and learning to
teach physical education, including some special martial arts classes. His social
life was soon quite busy with the jocks and a bunch of the college girls vying
for his attention. He wasn't in the room much except to sleep, clean-up, change
clothes and maybe study a little. When he was there it drove me crazy. He was
used to living in the barracks with a bunch of guys and thought nothing of
walking around in those stupid white military boxer shorts with the fly that
gapped open showing his pubic hair and the top of his thick organ. When he took a
shower, he'd strip down naked in our room, throw his towel over his shoulder and
march his tight butt off to the showers. He'd come back with water beading his
body and that damn towel either in his hand or over his shoulder again.

Then he'd stand there in the middle of the room and carefully dry himself off.
Bending and twisting. Showing the groove of his ass filled with dark blond hairs
or the pendulous heaviness of his fully sheathed cock as it swung back and forth
across the heavy fullness of his bloated sac with his body movements. I tried not
to look, but the beauty of his fully masculine body made me forget my resolve
every time he exposed himself to me.

Like I said, he was about six foot, one inch tall, maybe six-two. His body was
completely hairless except for the dark blond hair on his head, cut into a
high-sidewalls Marine Corps style that looked fantastic on his handsome, well
shaped head. Heavy, shining dark blond eyebrows formed a masculine bar over his
piercing blue-green eyes. His antediluvian, heavy jawed, honest Polish face was
clean shaven and clear skinned. Dark tufts of hair appeared and disappeared from
the armpits under his massively muscled shoulders. There was no more hair on his
torso until my eyes reached a perfect little trapezoid of curly blond hair that
seemed to float over the wide base of his translucent skinned shaft. Little blue
veins showed through the skin in a delicate tracery of interconnected pathways. A
loose hood hung below the nose of his dickhead from where it was stretched wide
by the obvious mushroom shape of the corona. Every once in a while the hood would
pull back far enough that I could catch a glimpse of a smoothly rounded nose
split by a generous, primly lipped mouth. Add a light dusting of blond hairs
short, fine hairs to calves and forearms and that was all the hair on his body.
None on his potbellied balls and only a few short strands in his groin.

All he had to do was walk into the room and my dick would stand up and start
dripping slime. When he would get naked my erection would flow like a faucet. I
started stuffing one of my handkerchiefs into my underpants to soak up the mess
before it wet the clothes I was wearing. I never got into or out of bed unless he
was out of the room or the lights were doused.

Saturday morning I got out of bed and dressed as soon as Zack left to take his
morning shower. He slept nude and had a piss hardon when he got up that morning.
I guess he thought I was asleep because he made no effort to hide the monster
before he finally restrained it under the towel he firmly knotted around his
waist just before he ambled off to his morning micturition and douche routine.
I'd finally observed the object of my obsession in full erection. Normally, his
penis dangled before my ocular's in what I estimated as a seven or eight inch
arch of plump vascular tissue. My imagination had been rampant with imaginations
of how huge the thing must get when engorged. Reality astounded me when I
realized that he only added one or two inches when  extended although the already
stout cudgel seemed to become half again bigger around. Drool seeped from my
mouth and my entire body shook as though I had the ague as I fumbled around
trying to clothe myself.

I looked in the mirror and realized that I couldn't take any more of this. My
face was pale and drawn, my eyes were bloodshot and every muscle was twitching
and trembling. In a panic, I sat down at my study table and tried to compose a
note to the coach explaining that because of family obligations I was going to
have to drop out of the athletics program and move back home. While I was
fumbling with meaningless words, Zack returned to the room and began his drying
off routine. I hunched over my paper so he couldn't see what I was attempting to
write and so I couldn't look at him.

"Jon. What's the matter?" came from behind me. I guess he noticed my shaking or
something. I couldn't think of anything to say so I just hunched down further and
tried to hold myself still. I heard his bare foot take a step and then his heated
hand touched my shoulder. I jumped up and rushed to the sidewall in one long
step. I had to stand there facing the wall because my erection was caught in the
short pants I'd put on and was sticking straight out making an obvious tent in
the front of my James Bean's.

"What the Hell is going on!" Zack demanded as he grabbed me by the shoulder and
spun me around.

Tears were leaking from my eyes and my face flushed crimson as his eyes dropped
and stared at the obviously prominent protuberance in my shorts that I was trying
to cover with my clawed hands.

"Hey..." he started to say as he reached up to touch my shoulder with two
fingers. I guess I must have gone a little crazy or hysterical or something
because I tried to shove him out of the way and run out of the room. He gathered
me into his arms and held me against his naked torso as I screamed and fought to
escape. I might as well have tried to push the concrete dormitory down with my
bare hands. He just calmly held me and kept me from hurting myself until I was
finally exhausted.

Zack sat down on his bed and held me on his lap in his strong arms. I couldn't
believe it. I'd spent my entire adolescence shying way from any sort of intimate
interaction with people and here I was clad only in a pair of abbreviated hiking
shorts in the lap of a naked hunk I was crazy with lust for. I was trembling with
exhaustion and fear, my tear-stained face stuck to his smooth-hard-warm chest
with his slow steady heartbeat playing counterpoint to the rapid beat of my own
heart in my ears.

His deep, mellow voice rumbled through his chest into my ears as he reached down
and touched the bulge caused by my still erect penis. "Is this what your hiding
is all about?" he quietly asked.

I reacted to his touch by throwing a fit. Thrashing around, trying to escape and
run away. Somehow I managed to hit his nose and a trickle of scarlet blood ran
down his upper lip. Flipping me over in mid-air like a stuffed toy, he slammed me
belly-down over his naked thighs. Holding me down with one huge paw in the middle
of my back, he pulled my loose shorts down over my narrow hips, baring the melon
shaped globes of my ass. His hand completely covered my buttocks as it crashed
into them with enough force to send a shock through my whole body. I redoubled my
efforts to escape which just caused him to spank me even harder. I tried to bite
him and he whacked me in the back of the head.

"No biting!" he calmly said.

I continued to struggle to get free, but he held me across his lap effortlessly
and continued to paddle me with equal ease. I couldn't believe how turned on I
was by the whipping he was giving me and the sensation of my now naked body
rubbing against his. I felt like I was swelling up so big I was going to explode
-- and then I did. As his hand hit my ass I convulsed and ejaculated against his
thigh. Every time he swatted me my five inch cock would erupt against the warm
oak hardness of his thigh again and again, over and over. I finally drained my
system, reaching the end of any possible further orgasm and just lay across his
lap crying, half from the pain and half from shame, as he continued to spank me
for being a bad boy and having bad thoughts.

Zack finally stopped spanking me. As he lifted me back up to sit on his lap my
shorts fell off my ankles to the green carpet and I cried even harder with the
shame of my idol having found out that I was a pervert and seeing my now totally
naked, and next to his magnificence, inadequate body. I put my narrow arms around
the barrel of his chest and buried my face in the deep cleft between his broad
pectorals as my body shook with deep, wracking sobs. Zack just put his arms
around me and gently held my weeping, trembling body to his.

Exhausted, emotionally drained and now deeply depressed, I finally stopped crying
and just sagged against the massive wall of Zack's body. I gave up. Lifeless and
feeling helpless, my defenses crumbled and I just gave up. Zack leaned a bit to
the side and poured some of his drinking water from the bottle on his desk on the
T-shirt he'd been wearing earlier. His other hand gripped my head and leaned it
back and he used the damp cloth to clean my face.

Zack tossed his T-shirt back on his desk and just stared into my face, and then
up and down my small body until his eyes returned to my face and he asked, "Why?"

I was too worn out, exhausted and confused to understand what he was asking. I
guess it must have showed on my face because Zack asked again, "Why me? Why get
so wound up over me?"

I just shrugged. How could I explain what he meant to me. How good he looked, the
power that constantly radiated from him. His warmth and gracefulness. His
strength and gentleness. His ability to talk and laugh and get along with almost
everyone. His popularity, his athletic ability. His... his manliness. The rampant
masculinity he exhibited in everything he did and everything about him. The smell
of him that drove me crazy with desire. "Because you're so beautiful." is what
came out of my mouth. I immediately flushed bright red when I realized what I'd
said to his masculine hunk. This Mans Man. This Marine.

"Me?"

I just nodded, the heat of his hand supporting my head crinkling my hair with the
movement.

This burly Marine just stared deeply into my eyes. His eyes got closer and closer
to mine and I fell deeper and deeper under his control. I could smell his heat
and felt his breath wash across my face and then his lips burned me as they
covered my mouth and his eyelids slid closed as my mouth opened to his
osculation. I'd never been actually kissed before. Never in a sexual, I want to
feel and taste you, make love to you way. My mouth sagged open to his insistent,
probing tongue as his hand held my face to his and his lips and mouth and tongue
searched and demanded as his head move back and forth seeking the perfect
contact.

Zack was kissing me! Me! This brute stud Marine was holding me too him and
kissing me! My arms reached up around his thick neck and I pulled my face into
his with the audacity of a sex starved boy with nothing else to lose. All I knew
was that I was being held and loved by the object of my fixation and I wanted
everything I could get. I tried to give back as good as I was getting, sucking
and licking Zack's tongue where it invaded my mouth. Nibbling and biting at his
tongue and full, firm lips. Attacking his lips and ears and throat. Sucking and
biting and kissing and licking frantically to acquire all that I could before
this dream ended.

Zack finally pulled my head back from mine and stared deep and hard into my eyes.
"I've never done this with a man before. What do we do now?" his passion fogged
voice rumbled out of his deep chest.

With my hands still holding onto the back of his strong neck, I shrugged, "I
don't know. I'm still a virgin."

His shocked eyes stared in disbelief at my innocent face. Then his facial muscles
started making weird movements and strange sounds started coming out of his
chest. Then he lost control and started to laugh. Now I was shocked. He'd led me
on. Trapped me. Gotten me to admit my deepest shame. That I was a man-lover and
an eighteen year old virgin. I thought he cared, and now that he had my secret
and had me in his clutches, he was laughing at me.

"I can't believe it," he laughed, "two naked studs grabbing each other and
neither one of us has any idea of what to do." He wasn't laughing out loud any
more but his face was twitching all over. My mouth fell open in amazement. He'd
said that I was a stud like he was. That he was as much at a loss as I was.
Suddenly the ridiculousness of the situation, and his reaction to it overwhelmed
me too. Both of us cracked up. Laughing out loud. Howling in laughter until we
fell on the floor and just laid on the rug, holding on to each other and rolling
around laughing at everything. We'd finally wind down and then we'd look at each
other and start laughing all over again.

Zack finally got up and then pulled me to my feet. He pulled me to his body and
gave me a big hug which I returned with gusto. "Look Little Dude. We're going to
have to figure this thing out. Everybody's going on that camping trip with the
coach this weekend so why don't we grab a shower and go get something to eat. We
can hide out and talk until everyone's left and then we can come back here. How's
that sound?"

"OK," is all I said. We grabbed our towels and shower kits (Zack called his a
douche kit, and so did I after that day) and we headed off to the showers. We
didn't see anyone around so we figured everyone was getting their sack lunches so
they could leave on the trip. We walked through the big bathroom back to the
shower area. Zack turned the corner and walked down to the end stall. I started
to go into the stall next to his but he said, "Come on, we can share this one." I
quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching before scurrying into the
anteroom with Zack who was just standing there grinning at my precautions. Once I
was inside, he reached up and slid the cloth privacy curtain across the opening.

Each shower stall consisted of two tiled rooms. The outside room had a floor
drain, a wooden bench and several hooks set into the walls to hang stuff from.
Zack dropped his kit on the bench and hung his towel from one of the hooks. I
usually had to get up on the bench to hang anything but Zack noticed the hook
would be out of my reach and just casually took the towel from around my neck and
hung it up for me (I'd followed Zack to the bathroom nude with my towel around my
neck in imitation of his usual style). By time I dug my soap, shampoo and cream
rinse out of my shower kit, Zack had already moved into the shower area.

As soon as I entered the five foot by six foot area Zack reached up and slid that
curtain closed as well. He took two steps to the back of the tiled shower area
and turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature before getting under the
water and turning around several times to get wet. He took a step out of the
spray and put his hands on my shoulders and bent over and smelled my hair. His
hands propelled me around him and under the shower and turned me around as he
ruffled through my hair until I was wet all over. Then he pulled me back out from
under the running water and turned off the cold water, letting the scalding hot
water hit the opposite wall and create billows of steam that warmed the small
room and created a steam bath that kept both of us wet and warm.

Zack squeezed some of my shampoo into his palm and rubbed his hands together and
started to wash my hair. After a few seconds of surprise, I just leaned back
against his sturdy body and enjoyed having my hair washed by his gentle hands. I
was dozing off from the pleasurable feeling of having Zack slowly and carefully
manipulate my hair when he adjusted the water temperature again and moved us
under the warm spray to rinse my hair. The floor tiles where hot from the
scalding water and I jumped around. Zack swatted my butt and told me to hold
still. I quit jumping around but I wrapped my hand around his testicles and just
held on.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"It's like the guy with the bad tooth told his dentist, 'Go ahead Doc, I trust
you not to hurt me.'", I said.

Zack laughed his deep, pleased, happy sounding laugh and said, "OK. Move your
feet if you have to, but no jumping around!"

I held still after that, enjoying the sting of the hot tiles against the tender
soles of my bare feet, but I didn't let go of Zack's balls and he acted like
having me hold him like that was the most natural thing in the world. We got out
from under the shower and Zack turned off the cold water again before starting to
put cream rinse on my hair. I stood facing him this time and used both my hands
to caress and explore his free-hanging scrotum and its amazing contents. I'd
played with my own nuts plenty of times but Zack's were at least three times the
size of mine. I was fascinated and hardly noticed when Zack started to wash my
neck and shoulders.

I automatically lifted my arms so he could wash my armpits and didn't notice
until latter that I wasn't ticklish to his touch at all. He washed first one arm
and then the other, removing my hands from his groin one at a time to wash them.
Then Zack sat on the redwood bench and carefully washed my torso, front and back.
Carefully and thoroughly laving every square inch of my tight upper body. I just
stood there and let him turn me around and wash me. I felt like a little boy
being washed by his daddy, and I loved every second of the feeling.

Zack washed and massaged down my legs, lifting them one after the other to wash
my feet and between my toes. His considerate, unfaltering touch never once felt
ticklish but engendered feelings of warmth, tranquillity, and caring. His soapy
hands traveled back up my legs and I spread my legs apart to allow him complete
access to assiduously bathe my groin, testicles and penis. He carefully washed
the exposed head of my circumcised tool, seeming to enjoy the changing feel of it
as I erected. His big hand moved back between my legs to wash the inside of my
crack. I squatted down a little bit to make sure he had complete access as his
broad fingers painstakingly ensured that my crack and pucker were spotlessly
clean. Everything just felt so good when Zack did it.

As Zack stood up the hand that had been cleaning me dragged up through my groin,
gently cupped my genitals and then swept across my abdomen. He reached down with
his other hand and cupped my buttocks, lifting me to his hip. I hung there,
suspended from his tight body as he adjusted the water again and stepped under
the spray to rinse us off. When Zack put me back on my feet and began to
carefully run his hands all over my body, washing away the soap film I became
deeply aware of feeling like a little boy again. Only this time I realized that I
didn't really see Zack as my daddy. It was more like he was my big brother who
had joined the Marine Corps and was glad to see me on his visit home. The way he
treated me, I felt cherished -- and loved.

I stepped into Zack and hugged him around the waist, trying to tell him how much
he meant to me also. Zack lifted me back up until our faces were at the same
level. I wrapped my legs around his waist and put my arms around his neck as his
lips once again covered mine. A not frantic, but fully engrossed period of
intense kissing followed as Zack put our heads under the shower spray and
thoroughly rinsed my hair as he searched my soul with his tongue. How I kept from
drowning, I'll never know -- or care.

A lifetime or two later I moved my now trembling, big Marine brother over to the
redwood bench and sat him down. As he bemusedly touched and stroked my body, I
used his shampoo to wash the brush of hair on his head. I used my own soap to
wash his face. My hands steadied as they explored the solid, squared-off bones
and muscles of the heavy featured visage before me. My hands moved back to
explore and cleanse the almost too small shells of Zack's close-set ears before
glissading downward to lave the corded pillar that swept up from his broad
shoulders to support his Antaean head. Both of my hands together reached barely
more than halfway around Zack's muscular neck. It felt like I was jacking off an
elephant's cock as I washed the now submissive Marines flesh.

My self-assured studly Marine had been reduced to a bemused idiot as he submitted
to my control and tentatively touched me as he became my boy, allowing me to wash
and care for him as he had me. What a wonderful feeling it was to know that I was
in charge and could touch, feel, explore the dream body before me. I tilted
Zack's head up and I initiated the kiss this time. Hotly demanding that he open
his lips to me as I probed his willing mouth with my swollen tongue and ran my
soapy hands through the long rough hairs of his armpits. I felt his nipples
swelling and hardening as my palms swept back and forth across the wide planes of
his chest and up over the heavy shoulder muscles. My fingers played with this
titties and he moaned into my mouth from deep in his throat as I squeezed and
twisted the jutting paps. Zack just continued moaning as my hands moved from
torturing the hard knobs of his mantits back under his armpits and back to his
titties over and over, my tongue busily searching his teeth and lips and gums and
the ridges and bloated tongue of his mouth as his hands caressed and fondled the
back of my head and neck and our puffy lips tantalized our minds with heightened
sensations.

The curve of Zack's swollen, weeping cock fit snugly against his lower abdomen as
I straddled his thighs and worked my arms under his so that I could begin washing
the broad muscled surfaces of his back. Embracing him, kissing him, washing him
as the smooth-slick-warm-wet fronts of our bodies learned to interlink and mesh
into one smoothly fitted blend of hot young man flesh. I washed deep into the
crack of his ass with my fingers and then my hands disappeared into the crack
between our bodies and dipped into Zack's throbbing groin. Not an alliteration,
but an actual palpable throbbing brought on by lust and his thudding heartbeat as
my hands washed and groped and fondled the swollen hairless scrotum. My
fingertips played tendril tickle with the short wisps of curly pubic hair which
caused Zack to giggle into my mouth in a really sexy way. My fingers lightly
tracing the outlines of Zack's engorged member caused his giggles to revert to
deep, passionate moans. This big hunk was completely under my control.

I slid backwards off of Zack's lap and regretfully broke the contact of our lips.
As Zack leaned forward trying to keep contact with my mouth I guided his
zombie-like form to his feet and lead him back to the shower, the steamy fog
swirling around our bodies as I adjusted the water temperature this time. I
turned Zack this way and that under the showerhead to rinse the soap off and then
climbed up his back. I stood there with one hand holding on to his shoulder and
my feet standing on the hard swells of his buttocks as I rinsed his hair and face
and ears. Zack shook his head to get the water out of his ears as I slid down his
back to the hot shower tiles.

I turned the showerhead to spray the long way down the showerstall and turned off
the cold water again. New billows of steam surged into the small room as I leaned
Zack against the hot water warmed tiles of the wall. I retrieved the soap and
knelt on the floor in front of Zack.

I lifted his right foot and put it in my lap and began to very carefully wash his
foot. My fingers laved between each of his toes and my fingernails slid under his
toenails in the cleaning process. I carefully pulled loose a broken corner of one
nail. I wiped away the excess soap and put the toe in my mouth to nibble away the
rough spot. The heat of my mouth caused the whole showerroom to reverberate with
the moans from Zack's chest. I put the foot back in my lap and focused on
cleaning away any trace of dirt or dead skin. I'd washed myself many times in my
short life, but I'd never felt anything like the glory of Zack's muscles under my
hands as they washed and rubbed their way up the hard muscles of the sturdy leg,
probing and studying every bit of the magnificent territory. By the time my hands
were working on Zack's groin and smooth buttock, my penis had worked it's way up
between my thighs and was rigidly throbbing against the sole of Zack's quiescent
foot.

I hugged myself to Zack's leg before lifting it back down to the shower floor. I
moved to the side a little bit to get in front of the other leg and my erection
slapped up against my tummy. I lifted Zack's left foot into my lap and it
completely covered my five inch erection. The pressure of Zack's foot against me
kept me on the verge of orgasm the entire time (and I did take my time) I spent
washing his foot, ankle, calf, knee, massive, beautiful, wonderful thigh, smooth
groin and rounded buttock. I leaned the side of my face against Zack's soapy
thigh as my hands slid slowly back down his leg and put his foot, regretfully,
back down on the tiled floor.

I leaned back and Zack spread his feet as both of my hands moved up between
Zack's thighs to grasp his balls and begin most gently washing them. Looking up
as my hands wantonly fondled Zack's most private and precious organs, I saw the
wide expanse of his manly appendage jutting forth from his loins. The loose
foreskin was retracted, exposing maybe a third of the head of his cockhead with
the tight meatus fully exposed at the end. As I watched a bead of clear lube
swelled from the lips of the meatus. The movement of my hands caused Zack's organ
to throb and a streamer of the viscous lube feathered down towards me.
Involuntarily, my tongue reached forward and caught the falling crystalline
thread and a flavor unlike any I'd ever experienced burst forth in my mouth.

Without really thinking about it, I raised up on my knees as my tongue followed
the streamer upwards to the source and my lips closed over the head of Zack's
cock to keep any of the magical fluid from escaping. Suddenly, terror struck me
again as I realized what I had just done. I had a cock in my mouth. I was a
cocksucker. I'd just compromised the Marine I was trying to be friends with and
set him up to be called a faggot. I'd lost control and done something really
stupid. Fearfully, with Zack's fat cock stretching my lips and my heart pounding,
I looked up into his face.

Zack's eyes had changed from green-blue to a deep dark blue and they looked down
at me calmly, even gently. His hand came up from his side and he wiped the hair
back off my forehead with an extended finger. His hand cupped the back of my head
and he stroked my hair as his deep voice rumbled out, "That feels really good
Little Dude."

He didn't hate me. He wasn't disgusted. He wasn't going to beat me up. He liked
what I was doing. He wanted me to keep doing it. He was touching me back.