Chapter Thirteen

Frederick

 

After the pain and suffering of having to drive to the nearby hotel in separate cars, check-in to the hotel room, and survive countless interruptions getting to our floor and finding our room, we’re finally there. Finally in the protective and private aura of the room. All lights are off, all shades drawn.  It’s perfect for me and what I’ve been dying to do, ever since he started kissing me in the concealed hallway of the café. I’ve been dying to undress him, get his pants off of him, and putting my mouth around that big, meaty dick of his. That shiny, muscled and commanding cock.

As I kiss him, I wrap him up in my arms again and go to do just that — unzip and take down his slacks and underwear. But he stops me and holds me back.

“No, Frederick,” he murmurs, and for a moment I’m afraid he’s going to push me away again. He’s going to bring up something about not wanting to do anything like this with me again because of my age, or the legal situation. But he doesn’t. Instead, he says something that surprises me.

“You don’t have to do that for me. Let me pleasure you. Let me love on you a bit more. A bit more gently and slowly this time, since last night was a bit rough. A bit intense.”

My insides turn to mush and goo. That’s so sweet of him to think about pleasing me. Usually I have to ask people to do that for me. Usually they expect me to do all the work, and only give me attention after I beg and plead with them. Sometimes literally for them to even give a fuck.

Briefly, my mind is overshadowed by images and feelings of the Captain forcing himself into my room at the base. Forcing me onto my bed, and then onto me. In my mouth, and my ass. But I shake that away, deciding to pay attention to the sweetness in front of me. The gentlemanly presence in front of me at the moment.

I get it now. Like he explained to me last night, he doesn’t want me to feel like I’m being taken advantage of. He doesn’t want to put me in a situation that might trigger me. That’s why he doesn’t want me to just go down on him right away. Treating me like his slave, or something.

“That’s sweet of you,” I say, as if he’s heard my entire thought process up until now. I pick at some tears threatening. “Really sweet of you, Captain, but you pleased me last night. You gave me a good time, and I’d like to return the favor.”

I give him an easy smile or what I hope is one. I kiss him, walk him away from the door, and toward the bed covered in sexy gloom, sexy wisps of shrouded light.

“At least to begin with, Captain.” With these words I kiss him again, guiding him gently down onto the bed, before slowly and softly kneeling into my favorite position to give a blow job.

“Please don’t worry about me. If I felt like you were forcing yourself on me, I wouldn’t want to be with you so much. I wouldn’t choose to follow you here or to let you romance me in the men’s bathroom in that café.”

I realize that last part sounded a little trashy, I think to myself. I wink at him while unzipping his fly. Peeling apart and down his slacks and then underwear. I deal with his clothes like it’s a soft appeal to a fruit I can’t wait to eat.

Almost immediately, I’m rewarded with a beautiful sight. With the soft presence and shadow of his penis rising into the room. The slight curve to one direction is unbelievably cute. Cute enough for me to start whispering to it. Complementing it like Captain Gibson’s cock is my favorite little boytoy. And I suppose it is. He gave me such a good fuck last night, how could I not love him to pieces?

Under my soft and sweet nothings, Captain Gibson’s tall and thick dick bobs. Trembles. Bows, like he’s a young man not used to such compliments or bold and salacious words applied to him. And this just makes me do it more. Whisper at him more, and combine my dirty and sweet talk with kisses to his head. The preliminary licks and tastes of his shaft. I start at his tip for some. For others, I start at his base and work up. And for others, I start in the middle of his glorious shaft, and work my way either way, changing it up. Making him breath heavier and faster with each movement I make. With each change in the pattern I make.

Just kissing his penis — smelling his musk, and feeling the silky, veiny skin on my mouth and lips — that’s enough to give me maximum hardness. A super full-feeling in my balls and penis.

Oh, God, I think, growling out loud, I just want to eat him. Put all of him in my mouth, and cover him in my drool. Enjoy him like my favorite food!

So I go from thought into action. Without warning, I plunge my hungry and happy mouth on his head, and go down as fast as I can. I don’t stop until I get as close to his balls as I can. Until my chin touches his squishy, wrinkly loveliness, and is rewarded with a surprised and satisfied moan. The first I’ve ever really heard like this from any guy, let alone Captain Gibson.

It thrills me to no end. I pull my mouth up his length, savoring the trip. Each inch. Each change in texture as I go, making plans to go back down again once I’ve reached the tip. The tip comes under my teeth and tongue in no time, singing to me with its softness. It’s squish. It’s salty, musky taste.

I go back down his length again, and decide at that point to settle into a rhythm. To give him a good taste. Savor him over and over again. At least until he’s hungry enough to want something else. Something more, which is what I’m planning on giving him.

With this thought in mind, I settle into a quick, vigorous rhythm. I slurp and moan my way up and down his beautiful length and amazing girth. Each time, I enjoy the twist — the bend — in him. More than that though, I enjoy listening to his tense, labored breathing. His quickening pulse, which I can feel when I put my fingers on his arms.

The more I suck on him, the harder I’m getting. The stiffer and warmer I’m becoming. The more this happens, the more my mind paints a picture for me, a desire of what I’d really like to do next—if he’d let me.

That would be for me to be the one to fuck him. Put my cock in his beautiful, chiseled ass. I imagine that with his dick in my mouth and how slick and warm it feels, it will only be a fraction of how it’s going to feel once I’m in him. Rubbing all of his texture inside. Being the one on top, I imagine  what he would say and do with me. Would he be the kind to order me around, even in that sub position? Or would he submit to me and just enjoy being penetrated by me? Or say dirty and cute things about how full I make him. How deep I spear him. With this thought alone, I almost cum.

Those thoughts, combined with the ambient caress of my pants, the fabric of my boxers, I almost explode all over the inside of them. Mark them up with my semen.

I groan hungrily — lusciously — under these thoughts, realizing I’m not the only one at risk of that. I’ve started to feel Gibson’s cock begin to throb… tremble and jerk under my mouthing of him. The now taste of his sweet precum. Before I can pull my mouth off, Gibson does it for me. He moves himself out from under me on one of my trips back up his gloriously stiff and hot member.

“No more,” he gasps, “I’m going to lose myself if you do Frederick, and I don’t want to go yet. Not until you’ve had your turn.”

He takes a deep breath in, grabbing his cock. He gives it a little squeeze. A little rub to calm it and control its excitement. Under his firm hand, I can’t help but imagine his penis as a wild and frisky animal that needs taming... needs release.

“You’ve done enough for me for now, handsome. Let me work on you a bit.”

Before I have time or space to object, he trades places with me. Under his strong and guiding hands, I find myself on the bed. In the exact same place he was just sitting. It’s still warm and a little sweaty. And now he kneels where I once was. My pants and underwear are relieved of my hips and crotch before I know it. My hard dick spears the air the moment the restraints are gone, like it’s just been fired off the end of a bow, with my Captains mouth as the target.

I shiver with excitement and cold from what I know is about to happen, and from the cool, teasing air in the hotel room.

The moment he puts his mouth on me, I’m almost not prepared for the warmth and KY-jelly-like tingle that floods my body. My cock and balls like the softest, sweetest electrocution ever. I moan and cry out louder than I ever intended from such a simple move. I’m so overcome by sensation that I can’t help it.

But it’s as he moves up and down — as he begins to set his own gentle, yet stern rhythm — is when I really start to tremble. Shaking and making more noise than I ever thought I was capable of doing. Before now, this afternoon, I thought of myself as more of a “quiet type” but around Captain Gibson? Apparently I’m a screamer. A moaner, and he’s only been going down on me for a minute, maybe two or three. He is able to bring a side out of me I never knew existed.

With each pass of his mouth and tongue up and down my length, and teasing of my head, I don’t think it can get any more sensitive — any more pleasurable — but I’m wrong. So wrong, and I love it. Each successive suck on my head and shaft makes me more sensitive. More attuned and aware of the little scratches of lust. Itches of pleasure, popping like beads or bubblewrap under his wetness. His warmth and commitment to tasting me, all of me.

I throw my head back unable to stay still by all of this. I begin to wiggle and shift shortly after, feeling him increase his speed. He actually lets my head “slam” into his throat. To the skin there, and the roof of his mouth. I’ve never felt anything like that before. My previous boyfriends, or non-boyfriends never wanted to go down on me. Not like this. They didn’t know I liked the idea of them putting me in their mouth, even though they always wanted me to blow them.

Captain Gibson isn’t like those jerks, though. Unlike them, he’s actually going down on me, like way down. Not only that, he’s enjoying every minute of it. He’s letting me hear his low and hoarse moans and groans. His hunger for me. I think I’m even hearing him say how good I taste from over my hot and heavy shaft, but I can’t be sure.

Whether or not he’s complimenting me that way doesn’t matter. I’m already racing toward orgasm at full tilt. How I’ve managed to last this long, and when I was almost about to lose it in my pants, I don’t know. I don’t care. All I know is that if Captain Gibson continues pumping his mouth up and down my dick the way he’s doing, I’m going to drown him in my cum. Fill his throat with me, maybe before he’s ready. I bet he is ready, ready to taste every last drop of me.

I groan long and deep with this thought, as well as my reemerging fantasy: fucking him in his ass, and going there. Unloading myself until I collapse. I voice this dream of mine to him in between gasps. Shuddering breaths.

“Captain… Captain, please…” I pause, swallowing a yelp. A squeal I’ve only heard women make. “Please let me…” I pause, feeling breathless again. Too breathless to speak. I start to leak onto his tongue, and he comments on how warm, salty and musky it is. I shudder, not wanting to lose myself before I have my chance at him and his hole. “Captain, please let me…” My breathing hitches, and once again Captain Gibson bates me.

“Please what, Frederick?” To ask this, he has taken his lips off my cock, but not his tongue. It continues to flicker, and draw circles around the shaft and head, then travel toward my balls. He’s completely engrossed with servicing me.

“What do you want from me, sweet boy?”

I bring my head forward, forcing myself to look at him. Let him see my urgency and vulnerability. But by the look I see on his face, my eyes must be huge. Glassy and dewey, like a hungry puppy.

“I want to fuck you,” I whisper, nearly losing it with those words. But somehow I manage to contain myself, and avoid giving him a facial.

“I want to pound you the way you pounded me last night, Captain. I want to bury myself deep inside you until you have no room for anyone or anything else.” I suck a breath in, feeling even more sensitive now that his mouth isn’t on me, and the air is left to linger on his saliva.

“Please, Captain. Please let me fuck you in your gorgeous, toned and fucking sexy ass. The one I’ve been staring at for years when you would walk by. When you bend over to do or get something. I’ve fantasized fucking that round manly ass of yours before.” I blush, admitting my former nasty thoughts about him.

To this revelation and desire, Captain Gibson just smiles. He gladly switches places with me again, except this time he’s taken his pants down to his ankles, and bends himself over the bed and the mattress. It just so happens, that this puts him at the perfect height for penetration. One look at his round and smooth ass, and I almost unload right there, all over that plump piece of meat I’m staring at. Almost wanting to cover him in cream I’m whipping up, but I control it. I bear down on that urge, yelling in my head, oh no you fucking don’t! Not yet! Hold it long enough to pleasure him. Get him off, and then you can blow your load. Blow your brains out along with it, if you want. But don’t shoot all over him like that. What are you, 10 years old?

Patiently, Captain Gibson waits. He spreads his cheeks for me, revealing a very tight, but delicious-looking asshole. It doesn’t gap or open up for me, but it is glistening. Shining with anticipatory liquid and I haven’t even done anything to lube him up.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I say. He turns toward me with a slight grin. I race over to my backpack that I brought up to the room and grab a small packet of lube. They were giving them away at the gay and lesbian center so I grabbed a bunch and put them in my backpack, just in case.

“I’ve never had the real thing back here before, he adds quietly, bashfully. I’m really excited to have yours, Frederick.”

The moment I hear this — that my beloved and inspiring Captain is an anal virgin at the age of 47 — I lose all inhibition.  I thrust toward him, spreading his cheeks as far as they will go. His ass gives me a nice big kiss. A nice wet pucker, as I dive in head first. But first I lube up well and lube Captain’s hole. I have a feeling he’s going to need all he can get once my huge tool is inside him pumping away for dear life…for the first time.

“Then it will be my pleasure to take your virginity in this way, Captain.” As I speak these words, I feel my head press into him. Into his tightness. Drag on the rim momentarily, before forcing its way through into the cavity. The shoot is just as tight and textured as I dreamed it would be.

Gibson and I moan at the same time. His, more like groans and being more of a choppy, fast in and out sound with deep undertones. I think we even swoon a bit at the same time as well, because Gibson’s posture slumps. But I grab onto him before he can lose it completely, and bring him directly on top of me. I guide him over and down the whole of me, hissing out a breath as I feel him, sliding over the length down to the very bottom. Each inch has me gasping and trembling more, and fearing premature ejaculation.

But I grit my teeth through it, and tell myself to give him his treat before I get mine. With that objective at the forefront, I dig my fingers into his exposed back and shoulders, and start riding him. Pounding away at him, exulting at how quickly his ass starts to slobber on me. Cover me with lubrication, as well as his own juices mixed in. In no time at all, I hear the squish of a sopping wet asshole as it sucks me with its ridges and gripping me all around my cock. I can hear Captain Gibson moan and sigh the deeper, the faster I go. He seems to especially like it when I scratch him at the same time that I slam my hips into him. I drive my cock as far up in him as it will go.

He shutters when I do this. Quakes, like his whole body is a tightly wound rubber band being plucked and flicked by me... by my big dick. And I get to appreciate this vibration as well. It warbles into my shaft, where it collects like a little electrical cloud in my balls. Once there it agitates everything, until it’s warm and super tingly.

Against this sensation, I can only fuck him harder. Faster. Press into him even further, and drag myself along him as I go out.

As I move fast and furiously, I notice an equal intensity shaking in him. In one of his arms and shoulders. And I quickly realize he’s rubbing himself off. Jacking himself off, begging me to push it in more.

I oblige him saying, “If those are your orders, Captain.”

We both share the same kink it seems, for the minute I mutter these words I feel him clinch around me, tighter I hear his throat clench, letting out a strangled, growling moan. The moment I hear his wild voice and feel his ass clamp down on me, it’s over. I shoot my load before I’ve even comprehended that I’ve orgasmed.

It just happens in a dizzying blast of sensitivity and sensation. Of pumping, jolting and an overall lack of oxygen. Of brain cells. As I eject pool after pool of myself, I can only dig my nails into his back… his ass cheeks, and hope he’s gone as well.

It seems he has. I don’t know for sure, but I smell semen. The telltale “warm bread” scent puffing into the air, as well as Captain Gibson’s relaxed — spent — posture.

I suck in a breath, feeling a surprise extra “pool” of cum release from me. From the depths of my sack---- the bottom of my proverbial barrel--- and I’m happy about it. Never in all my experiences has it been this good, or this complete. I’ve fantasized while jacking off what it would be like fucking Gibson’s ass but I never thought it would actually happen. I would always cum so quickly imagining its shape and form and the feeling once inside.

Sweat drenching my face and forehead, I lean into Captain Gibson’s ass. I pull out a second later, giving him kisses and bites along his ass. I lick some of the cream that dripping down and out of him slowly. Sexy. Normally, I don’t like the taste of myself, but here, I’m excited by it. Hungry, in a weird way.

Captain Gibson trembles, but doesn’t move to get away.

I give him another lick and bite on his ass, before wrapping my arms around him and pulling him onto the bed with me. Fully under the sheets with me.

All light from the windows have faded, meaning the sun has officially set. But I don’t care. Not much of it was coming through the shades as it was. And anyway, Gibson already reserved this room for an extra night or two, when I told him I didn’t want to go back to base. I didn’t feel comfortable there, and wouldn’t until after the case was closed.

But I take my thoughts away from this, as well as what might happen to us if anyone identified us or knew about our legal trouble. I instead focus it on my glowing and happy Captain. The way he’s lying in my arms, it’s obvious he’s given me all of him. He’s been satisfied and satiated on a level he never thought possible.

“Get some sleep, dear boy,” he murmurs softly. “You need your rest.”

“I will,” I say, stroking his soft and silky hair. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Someone needs to,” Captain Gibson replies, more sleepy than serious.

“I know,” I answer. And I wouldn’t mind if that “someone” was you, Captain. “You already do.” As these words clear my mouth, I hear him snoring. “My man.” I love being yours. I love the idea that I could be owned and cherished by you, Captain.

Somehow, even though part of my mind is still awake and thinking through all the ‘what if’s’ and uncertainties of our future or non-future together, I fall asleep.

When I do, I’m back on base. And Captain Stern is there, ready to corner me. Fuck me.

“Hey Freddie,” he says, like a theme park mascot looking to eat my face off, “don’t ask don’t tell was there for a reason.”

I feel my throat constricting. My mouth gagging over his giant, disgusting cock.

“To keep you from fucking up, brat. If you don’t want you and your beloved Captain’s reputations destroyed, you’ll do what I say.”

After that, I feel nothing but pressure. Nothing but suffocation, and I wish I could just wake up.