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    Jack Scribe
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Splash In The Pool - 18. Chapter 18 Assimilation

DAVE

‘Holy samolie,’ I thought, ‘how did this happen so quickly?’ First, Mike had appeared under the most unusual set of circumstances. Something I would have never imagined. But there he was – the most important person in my life forever. Then, Phil and Brent arrived and budding friendships resulted…obviously the period of loneliness in my life had passed.

I walked through the rest of the week following my routine. Up early to go to the club pool. Meet with Mike. Do my lifeguard duties. Meet Mike. Go home. I saw Brent a few evenings but he was usually pre-occupied with other things. I didn’t ask.

When I ran into Jim Weiss on Wednesday, he seemed to have an inner glow that I hadn’t seen before. We were friendly and while I could count on him in a neighborly way, his mind sometimes seemed to be on another planet. Whatever the case, we had both realized our encounter was just that – an encounter – and nothing more was ever mentioned.

~~~~~

On Thursday, I got together with Phil in the early evening in his room. I felt relieved that we had gotten my situation behind us without a ruffle.

“Everything going okay for Saturday?”

“Yep. The final count will be 14 and they’re a good group. I think you’ll enjoy meeting our friends.”

“You’re sure that Mike and I won’t be a controversial couple?”

“Are you out of your friggin’ mind? We may be in Memphis, but we’re not part of the old South. Beth’s classmates Steve and Alex are coming and they’re also a couple.”

‘A couple,’ I thought, ‘that sounds neat to know two guys as a couple.’ I smiled and replied, “Guess people will figure out that Mike and I are also a couple.”

“Two guys sharing a studio isn’t too subtle, and Beth put things together when she first met you. Go with the flow, man. This is 1995 and the turn of the century is just around the corner. In a liberated college crowd, no one gives a diddly crap about people being gay.”

“That we can deal with. However, us being in the Navy, plus Mike’s officer status, have to be kept quiet.”

“Trust me, buddy, no one will know. Beth and I understand completely.”

We continued to talk – about nothing in particular – and got more comfortable with each other. When I returned to my room, Brent was ‘home’ and I could tell that he was considering his wardrobe for the weekend. Several outfits were displayed on his bed.

“Dave, ‘hi’. I can’t believe that we haven’t seen each other for two days.”

“You do know what they say about burning both ends of the candle,” I replied as I walked over for a friendly handshake and hug.

“My candle ends have already been burned to a crisp.”

“You tired?” I was going to make a joke about taking care of his wick, but took a pass.

“I’m beat. But, I’ve got a busy weekend ahead and need to recharge.” Brent removed his uniform, hung it up neatly, and stripped down to his briefs.

While he hung up the wardrobe that had been displayed on his bed, I took off my jeans and T-shirt.

“How are you doing?” he asked as he walked over to the washbasin to brush his teeth.

“Very good. No, correct that. I’m great. The feelings I have for Mike just keep growing.”

“That sounds pretty solid.”

“We’ll be back in town this weekend to get the apartment pulled together. Plus there’s a barbeque with some of our new neighbors on Saturday.” I didn’t mention that the neighbors included Phil from down the passageway in our barracks.

“Once Doug and I have some spare time, the four of us will have to get together in town. You and I have to figure out how to best officially introduce Mike to Doug and me.”

“I’d like that to happen,” I added with enthusiasm. Brent knew that I would never mention his and Doug’s off-base activities. “We’ll come up with a plan.”

After rinsing, he walked over to his bunk and eased between the sheets. “I’m checking out for the night.”

“And, I’ll be right behind you. ‘Night’.”

“Ditto.” Within minutes, Brent was out for the count.

I went down to the head to do my thing and returned to my room. It was interesting that I no longer looked at this gorgeous guy, breathing deeply as he slept, with lust and fantasy. ‘We’re buddies with a bonding in process, but only buddies,’ I thought while brushing my teeth.

I finished my nightly routine and hopped into my bunk. Lights out.

~~~~~

Friday was a blur of activity, and Mike and I only touched base that morning by phone. I was going to drive into town and stock some other clothes. Mike would be busy with Club business and grab a dinner there. We agreed to meet at the apartment around 8 p.m.

The commute was fast and I arrived at the apartment 35 minutes later. I unpacked my bag, hung up my extra pants and shirt, stowed my spare underwear and socks, and put away my toiletries. I had bought an almost duplicate supply of bathroom basics that I was leaving here. I also planned on having a few more changes of casual clothes in the future.

Not much had been planned so I spent some time cleaning the place with a little spit and polish. It looked much sharper when I departed for a shopping trip to the mall around noon. In addition to some other supplies, I wanted to buy a few more casual clothes for my free weekends in town.

I got back to the apartment building around 6 p.m., after stopping off at Krystal’s for a bag of mini-burgers and fries, and saw Beth leaving her apartment as I entered the hallway.

“Hey, Beth. Good to see you again.” I stopped in front of my door.

“Hey yourself,” she replied walking over to give me a friendly peck on the cheek.

“Now that’s what I call a good old-fashioned Southern welcome,” I said as I returned the gesture.

“I understand that Phil gave you the lowdown about Mike and me?”

“Honey, I got the whole story. Gives An Officer and a Gentleman a whole new meaning,” she said with a feminine giggle. “I think it’s real romantic.”

“Yeah, I’m at a new place in my life – one that I didn’t think I’d ever get to.” Looking at her earnestly, I asked, “You’re cool about keeping Mike’s rank and the Navy thing, quiet?”

“Cool as a breeze.” She winked and crossed her heart with her fingers. “I’m happy for you two. Listen, I gotta go. Going to a movie with some of the girls.”

“See you tomorrow. I’m looking forward to the party.”

“Bye.” She tossed over her shoulder walking away.

I entered our ‘love nest’, stashed away my purchases and inhaled the food with a beer before stretching out on the bed for a short nap. I didn’t bother taking off my clothes…Mike could have that honor when he arrived.

Sometime later, I felt my shoes and socks being removed. As I slowly stirred and looked down with my eyes only half-open, I saw Mike standing at the foot of the bed without a stitch of clothing on…well, he was wearing a big shit-eating grin. ‘What a hunk,’ I thought, becoming more alert by the second.

“Hey, babe. You just get here?”

“A few minutes ago. Found this sleeping stranger in my bed.”

“Well, I ain’t a wolf,” I said.

“And I’m not Little Red Riding Hood,” Mike replied with a sly grin.

“What time is it?” I asked, still not completely awake.

“Just hit 2015. I’m a few minutes late.”

In a faux anti-bellum accent, I said, “Well, Sir, you have me at a disadvantage. I’ve been caught off-guard in my bed by a man who may have designs on my vulnerabilities.” To add to the bent caricature, I fluttered my eyelashes in mock indignation.

“Vulnerabilities? Scarlet, how can the town slut be vulnerable? The only vulnerabilities are how many inches you’re able to take tonight,” he replied in a horrible Rhett Butler impression.

Changing my voice to a husky male hustler’s, I said, “Well bring it on, Mister. It’s ten bucks an inch…for every inch ya got.”

Mike leaned down, his knees on the bed between my legs, and kissed me. “I’m prepared for anything you want to do. How’s my credit? I don’t have 100 bucks on me.” With that, he unbuckled and unzipped my pants.

“Dream on, guy. If you gave me 100 bucks, you’d get back a lot of change,” I replied snickering.

“When I remove your pants, swabby, you’ll see what I’m prepared to do.”

“I’m in your hands, Sir. Be gentle.” I lifted my hips so that my pants could be removed. My hard dick got snarled up in the briefs. After some maneuvering, all my clothes had been removed.

With that fantasy charade accomplished, Mike lay down beside me – partially on top of me – and said, “Hi, lover. I’ve thought about this moment all week. How ya doing?”

“Better now that you’re here. Tonight, I want you to make love to me ‘until the cows come home’.”

“I don’t know about cows cumming home, but how about until I cum.”

Wrapping my arms around him, I continued, “Mike, grab that bottle of lube and let’s get serious.”

We were each hard as a rock, achingly hard in my case. Mike kneeled, took the lube and poured an ample amount on the fingers of his right hand. He looked into my eyes, started rubbing my crotch area with his other hand and his lubed fingers found their way to my ass.

“This is going to make one really horny sailor very happy.”

“Lover, no happier than me.”

MIKE

Although I loved fucking, being fucked was an ‘acquired taste’ that I was still in the process of learning. I didn’t think that it was anything to do with being submissive in the sex act and therefore being less masculine. For me, it hurt like hell until ‘things’ got settled. But, I was willing to be the bottom when Dave wanted to top. It was going to take time for me to adjust to that role, but for my man, I’d walk on hot coals.

I loved Dave’s fantasy role-playing. Tonight, in the new apartment, we were all over the board. And tonight, I was designated the ‘top’.

“Mike, you feel fantastic. Take it slow and make it last for a while?”

“As slow as I can make it,” I replied as we created a heavenly, loverly friction. I brought my slippery hardness back and forth inside him until I was close to a sensory overload. Then, I would pause until the almost-orgasmic moment had backed off. Dave picked up on what I was doing and smiled each time I rested. This was love in the most intense physical form and I repeated the sequence for quite a while.

Dave finally growled, “Fuck me, Sir…fuck, fuuuck…oh shit…drill me…ahh.”
His forehead was beaded with sweat and his eyes were tightly shut. His glistening body tensed as he flexed his sphincter muscles. I realized that we were both in sync. “Urrgh, ahhh, hmmm,” I uttered. Varying the speed and depth of entry, I had my lover writhing. Changing the angle of entry, I sought out his prostate as frequently as possible. I sensed him getting close and didn’t ease up.

“I’m cummmming, Mike,” he shouted, as his muscles tightened more intensely.

“Ohhh, urghh, ahhh,” loudly punctuated my release as he erupted with hot projectiles of semen that arced up to his chest and abdomen.

He grabbed me around my back and brought us together. Lying on top, I moved to his lips and gently kissed him with my tongue softly lapping his inner-lips and tongue. He reciprocated. “Mike, I love you with all my heart,” he said after our mouths separated.

“You take me to places I didn’t think existed. I want this to last forever, love.” I rolled onto my side to take some weight away and to remove my softening penis. We held each other for a long while.

Coming out of our trance, he said, “I think that we better clean up ourselves and this mess.”

“Yeah. And I think we better invest in some more sheets, too,” I replied with a chuckle.

We got up on different sides of the well-used bed and padded into the head to shower and brush our teeth. Unfortunately, the tub was only junior-size and with a water saver showerhead. Except for routine hygiene, the tub would be uncomfortable for anything else, including erotic, aquatic foreplay. We took turns. Dave first.

‘Damn,’ I thought, ‘we’ll get a place someday that has a large shower.’

“We need to invest in a better showerhead,” he shouted above the water splashing on him and the stall. “This one is Mickey Mouse.”

“I’ll start making a list for our shopping tomorrow. Definitely more sheets.”

“And some more Wet!”

They say that the average young male has some sort of sexual thought several times a day but Dave was beating the odds. The shower door opened with the water running so we could swap places. “Thanks, babe,” I said, entering the prepped water spray.

Standing at the sink, Dave said, “It’s only about 2200. Wanna go out to a few bars tonight and check out the action in this town?”

“Sounds good to me,” I replied as I massaged my scalp with shampoo, “I’ve heard good things about a bar called Backstreet in mid-town. The Damron Guide gives the place high marks.”

“Let’s do it. If we leave in a half hour, the action should be just starting. If we don’t like it, we can go some place else.”

About 30 minutes later, both dressed in khaki and polo shirt civvies, we were sitting – he on the edge of the bed, me on the one available chair – talking about our day while we each drank a beer. That the wives of the officers wore their wedded ‘rank’ poolside amused Dave. I gave him the rundown about the officers’ and officers’ wives’ pecking order, starting with the ‘queen bee’.

“Wow. Sounds like you don’t want to get on her wrong side.”

“I have purposely made a close ally of her.” Briefly, I described my invitation to participate in the Carnival Memphis in two weeks. “You can come into town but I’m going to be professionally partying for 2½ days. I think snuggle time is all I’ll have energy for.”

“Let’s play it by ear. Maybe on Friday night I’ll hang with the guy I replaced at the pool.”

“You mean Jim.”

“Yeah, Jim Weiss. We hit it off pretty well. I think we could become good friends.”

“He’s a good man. That might be a good idea. Just don’t become too good of friends,” I said walking over to the bed. I sat down, winked at him, and leaned in for a reassuring kiss.

“That’s temping. But, you’re my man – exclusively.” My kiss was returned with equal love.

With the beers finished, we pulled off the soiled sheets and replaced them with clean linen for later. At 2230, we were in Dave’s Mustang, top down.

DAVE

Mike had a map and directions to Backstreet. We got there about 10 minutes later. Finding a well-lit street parking spot not far from the bar, I put the top up and secured it. It was obvious from all the young men on the street that this was definitely the gay area of town.

“We’ll have to check out this place in daylight,” I commented as we walked by various shops with rainbow decals and flags displayed in the windows. It was amusing to see a trendy shop selling china and linens next to a store displaying every type of leather accoutrement available to that crowd. After passing a very trendy-appearing Ace Hardware and a bookstore featuring gay and lesbian adult videos, we arrived at Backstreet.

“We can take a detour tomorrow and check out the shops,” Mike said. “This is all new territory for me.”

He took my hand as we walked towards the bar door. Inside, pulsing strobe lights and colored laser beams coming from the crowded dance floor, along with indirect lighting behind the bar enlivened the room. I noticed a drinking ledge around the darker perimeters of the room and the shadowy silhouettes of men clustered in parings and groups as well as single images as the doorman checked our I.D.’s.

“Babe, why don’t you get us a couple of beers while I go to the head?” I said with a wink.

“Okay. You do your thing and meet me at the bar.”

Mike squeezed my hand before I walked to the rear to locate the men’s room and he to the bar. The low-lit room was damp and smelled of a mixture of urine, disinfectant, and some overpowering evergreen ‘air freshener’ that only confused the odors. The urinal was actually a metal trough that angled to drain the contents with constant running water to move the discharge.

I stepped up and pulled out ‘Davey’ for a long overdue whiz. Someone else was already there doing his thing next to me. My eyes discreetly moved over to my neighbor’s crotch area to compare, then I brought my eyes up to see the face, after being impressed with his ‘equipment.’ His head turned slowly toward me and my eyes opened big as my mouth fell partially open.

The man did a double take, paused with a smile, and said, “Well, Swenson, welcome to Backstreet.” We both continued pissing, dicks in hand.

“Err, Mr. DiMarco. Umm, I guess there’s no way to BS you that I didn’t know this place was gay.” I could actually feel my dick shrinking with embarrassment.

“Ha, that’s good. First, Dave, it’s Doug. That’s the way it should be here in town. Second, I don’t think we want to confuse any natives that might be overhearing us.”

“And third, I assume that you didn’t come here by mistake either?” I asked with a small smile. ‘Shit,’ I considered, ‘this confirms my suspicions that Doug’s gay.’

“Guilty as charged, Dave.”

“Timing is everything. This is my first visit…Doug.”

“Are you here alone?”

‘What’s the best way to answer his question?’ I wondered for a brief moment. After shaking the last drops – real or imagined – I snaked ‘Davey’ back into my pants and zipped up. “No, I’ve come with a friend.” I smiled a little, considered the protocol of shaking another man’s hand at the urinal, and decided it was not the thing to do.

“From what I just saw at the urinal, you must make him very happy?” he said with a laugh and a wink. “Let’s get out there and say ‘hi’ to him,” he replied as he did the same shaking and rearranging.

“Yeah, might as well,” I resigned myself to the situation and felt my face get red. Remembering meeting Doug the first time, I thought, ‘This guy is a fucking wink machine.’

“Does he live here in Memphis, Dave?”

“Um…no, Doug. He’s in the Navy, too.” Neither bothered with washing. ‘Kee-rist,’ I thought to myself as we went back into the bar and the gay tribal beat of vintage disco, ‘it’s too late to make up a story, and Mike’s going to shit bricks.’

“Navy? I wonder if I know him?” he asked.

“The base isn’t that big, so chances are pretty good that you do. He should be over at the bar.”

Copyright © 2011 Jack Scribe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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