Don't Ask, Don't Tell
Page 2
“Yeah,” he sighed, the pace quickening on his giant cock. And then, “Gonna come.”
I could feel the rock-hardness of his insides just a split second before I felt the come shoot on my chest, over and over, hot and sticky like the air around us. And then I shot, too, all over my stomach, until I was fairly covered in our come, a fucking aromatic bath of it.
We both stayed there like that, catching our breaths. Then I got up, cleaned off as best I could with some rags we found, and we got dressed.
Eventually, he looked over at me. “That was cool,” he said with a sly grin.
“Yep,” I agreed with an equally satisfied smile. “Cool.” Cucumbers would, in fact, be envious of us.
“By the way, what does my ass taste like?”
My stomach filled with butterflies. “Only one way to find out,” I replied, moving closer to him until our faces were an inch apart.
His eyes widened, the green intense, mesmerizing, drawing me in. And then, in a heartbeat, our lips met, soft, tentative, and then hard, needing. It was a kiss to remember.
“Ah,” he finally said with a sly grin. “My ass tastes pretty good.”
I laughed. “Sure does. By the way, are you, um, g…”
He stopped me with a kiss. “Don’t ask,” he whispered.
“Don’t tell,” I whispered back.
And that was that. The night became morning. We were relieved by two more guards, went back to the barracks for a rest, finished the week out, smiled knowingly at each other from time to time, and then went on our respective military ways.
I never saw him again, least not until that day at the café.
Crossing the street with the familiar tenseness in my stomach and chest, I walked up to his table.
He looked up, smiled, laughed to relieve the tension. “You never were very good at cruising me, Private.”
“It’s Corporal,” I told him. “Well, was Corporal. I’m no longer in the Army. You?”
“Same. But it’s Sergeant. Was Sergeant. And no, I’m not. Have a seat.”
I did, adding a half-hearted salute. “That your Jeep over there?” I asked.
The smile widened. “Yep. I’ve got a certain fondness for them. Want to go for a ride in it later?” He winked and stroked my arm.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“I’m not asking, Corporal. I’m telling.” His hand found my own. “Boy, am I ever telling.”
THE END
ABOUT ROB ROSEN
Rob Rosen, award-winning author of the novels Sparkle: The Queerest Book You’ll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava, Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort, Fate, and Midlife Crisis, and editor of the anthologies Lust in Time, Men of the Manor, and Best Gay Erotica 2015, and Best Gay Erotica Volumes 1 and 2, has had short stories featured in more than two hundred anthologies.
For more information, visit therobrosen.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!