HotShots99

by HotShots

  “I have to come clean with you about something,” he said. “When I said yesterday that it didn’t bother me when you used to ignore me, I was lying.”

  “Okay,” I said, confused. I wasn’t ready for all this therapy crap this early in the day, but since I’d hurt him with my behavior all those years ago, I thought I should hear him out. “I can understand that. All I can do is say I’m sorry.”

  “That’s not quite what I was getting at.” He sighed and raked his fingers through that spiky blond hair. I felt my cock lurch in my swim trunks. “The truth is, I was hot for you then, Nick, and I’m still hot for you now.” Suddenly, he leaned back in his chair, hooked his hands behind his neck, and spread his thighs wide. As if on cue, his cock swelled up under his bathing suit and slithered up the flat of his belly. Soon his starkly defined cockhead actually peeked over the top of his elastic waistband.

  My eyes must have widened, because Tyler looked down at himself and smirked. “Little trick I learned in the barracks,” he said, laughing, then stood up. “I can show you a few more, if you want.”

  A slow burn spread from my nuts to my cock, blazing a trail right up through my crotch. My balls began to feel like two hot coals against my inner thighs.

  “Yeah, Tyler. I want,” I said huskily, as a warm glob of pre-cum spurted against the lining of my bathing suit. The plump dome of my own cock shoved eagerly against the inside pouch as I followed him up the walkway to my condo.

  We didn’t even bother to head for the bedroom. Tyler closed the door and locked it, his face etched with raw need. A lusty flush crept steadily from the waistband of his suit to the points of his nipples, turning them a dark caramel color that made my mouth water. I made him wait only as long as it took for me to dash to the bathroom and grab a box of condoms, which I tossed on the floor at his feet. Then I dropped to my knees right there in the living room and hooked my thumbs over the top of Tyler’s bathing suit.

  My sweaty fingers worked it down past his sinew-padded hips until it snagged on his upper thighs, which were still damp and fragrant from the pool. Bending closer, I used my mouth to work it the rest of the way down his legs. Then I sat back on my heels and admired the view.

  His cock and balls were flushed a dark maroon, which stood in dark relief against the creamy flesh below his tan line. Silvery tendrils of sweat poured down the grooves of his muscle-padded ribs and trickled into his blond bush, which grew as short and bristly as his crew cut. Best of all, that bulging shaft, mottled with thick, purplish veins and topped with a bubbly wad of pre-cum, jutted out like a missile about to be launched.

  With a grunt, Tyler grabbed hold of my head and snaked his fingers through my sweat-matted hair. I barely had time to grab a condom from the box and slick it over his flared cockhead before he crushed my lips against his towering erection.

  I opened my jaws wide and let that rubber-capped torpedo spiral all the way down to the back of my throat. My nostrils desperately sucked in the heady scent of musk mixed with chlorine, which made it seem like I could almost taste him through the rubber. Though it took me a moment to adjust to his size, I soon learned how to maneuver him sideways so that I could flick my tongue all the way from his bloated base up to his distended crown. Meanwhile, I used my lower lip and chin to rub his juicy nuts, lathering them up with my own frothy spit.

  I slid up and down his big cock five or six times, tonguing his length and polishing his tip with my tonsils, trying to make up for every last time I’d snubbed him in the past. To judge from the way his cock bucked and leaped in my mouth, Tyler was thoroughly enjoying my attempts.

  “Swallow me, man,” he was moaning, twisting his hips from side to side so his hard-on could reach deeper into my gullet with each stroke. “Swallow all of me.”

  In response, I squeezed my throat muscles around him and reached around to finger his ass-crack. The combination of steamy body heat and chilly pool water made for some interesting sensations back there, like I was tunneling into a rocky crevice after a spring thaw. Lifting my head just enough to gulp down a deep, steadying breath, I spread his smooth cheeks with my other hand and skewered two fingers into his hole.

  The double caress of my throat and my fingers got him even more excited, and fast. With a snarl, Tyler began to fuck my face even faster, twisting his fingers into my hair until the roots began to loosen, drilling my throat until even his balls were edged halfway into my mouth. Every time he rammed me, I shoved my fingers into his contracting chute as far as they could possibly go.

  I must have hit the bull’s eye, because all once I felt Tyler’s ponderous balls clench up between my chin and his body, and the tender sac quivered as they started to unload with a lurch.

  “I’m there,” he howled, digging his nails into my scalp. “Don’t stop!”

  The force of his cum plowed through me like a shot from a cannon. I held my breath and crammed my face into his groin, his pungent sweat sliding down my bare neck and chest.

  Tyler fired into the rubber, each powerful spurt making my throat flutter and constrict. More than once I fought off an oddly pleasurable gagging sensation, then reared back lunged for his stiff pole all over again. Even after he’d emptied his nuts, he plunged his softening cock in and out of me a few last times. Finally the whole shaft burst free with a wet, popping sound.

  Tyler half-closed his eyes with pleasure and reached to skin off his flooded condom. The rigid tree trunks his legs had become swayed dreamily underneath him.

  “Some of those jarheads can give a pretty mean blow-job,” he told me, grinning, “but I always knew you’d be the best, Nick.”

  “Thanks, Tyler.” I rose slowly to my feet, wiping my face. “Speaking of that, how about some of those secret maneuvers you promised to show me?”

  His devilish smile widened. “You got it.”

  In a flash, my bathing suit--which had grown rather tight by then--was on the floor, and I was stretched out on my back right beside it. Tyler cupped his hands around my still-rigid periscope, stroking up and down until he’d lubed me up with my own sweat and pre-cum. Then he hooked a fresh condom behind his front teeth and rather ceremoniously lowered his head to sheath me. I could feel his juicy tongue moving along my shaft as he unrolled the rubber with his mouth.

  I had to admit, that was a pretty impressive surgical strike, but the best was yet to come. Planting his hands on either side of me, Tyler hoisted himself onto my crotch so that his bare ass hovered less than an inch above my straining cockhead. As his own shank slowly hardened again, he humped himself back and forth until his puckerhole was poised right against the little teat at the end of my rubber. The tantalizing ripple of his sphincter on my dome almost got me off right then and there.

  I didn’t want to waste the load I’d brewed for him, so at point I reached out and clamped both hands around his sculpted thighs. I could feel the thick sinews in his legs pulse and jump as I slammed him down against me.

  He sat heavily, moaning as my cock plowed into his guts like a heat-seeking missile finding its target. As he’d hinted, my cock was far from the first one he’d taken up the ass. He felt pleasantly tight around my bloated erection, like a hungry mouth greedily chomping down its daily rations. As he sank down on me, I let go of his legs and reached instead for those puffy nipples, twisting and teasing them like I was turning up the heat in his body.

  Pressed flat by his weight, buried to the hilt in steamy Marine asshole, all I could do to stimulate his prostate was squirm my hips against the floor and make my swollen nuts bobble against his. At that point, Tyler treated me to what I assumed was another of his special military-issue procedures, flexing his hot ass-walls against my shank until I was on fire from crown to base. Meanwhile, grunting with need, he seized his own fleshy club in both hands and tilted it forward until the ruby-red tip dragged against my navel. As he thrust his rear end up and down on my groin with split-second precision, he ground the tip of his cock against the sweaty plane of
my heaving abs.

  This carefully measured drill brought me off in 10 seconds flat. My balls were so full that it felt like an atomic explosion ripped through my guts as I fired a white-hot screamer between those exquisitely trained ass-cheeks of his. My condom stretched upward, banging his bowels with such force that I had to let go of his left nipple and hold the rubber ring tight against my throbbing cockbase. To compensate, however, I pinched at the other one even more vigorously.

  Even though Tyler had already come once, the added stimulation in his ass and on his chest soon coaxed him to come again. A shimmering jet-stream spurted onto my torso, flecking my dark chest hairs and filling my nostrils with the delectable scent of fresh male desire.

  When we were both drained to the dregs, Tyler rolled off me and lay down on the rug next to me. His eyes met mine with the same admiration that had been there two years ago, when I’d been too stupid and vain to notice what was right there beside me. I’d have to make it up to him all over again, I decided—but luckily, I had the rest of his furlough to do it.

  And there would surely be other shore leaves coming up quickly after this one ended.

  Jesse Gets Physical

  T Lee Garland

  Special Forces soldier Jesse Haynes sat in his car at the end of Physician Lane in Oak Grove, Kentucky, and just observed. He had been stationed at Fort Campbell since his return from Iraq, and the last five months had been a blur. First there had been the injury, then shoulder surgery, then a couple of months of rehab on post. During a follow-up visit to the Army doctor, Jesse had mentioned he was still a little stiff in the shoulder area. The army had promptly sent him a Tricare referral to be seen at a civilian location. So when he had informed the sunny voice on the other end of the phone line that he wanted the latest available appointment, she had provided him with the clinics last appointment at 6:00 pm.

  He had been watching the area for a good fifteen minutes now, since any SF solider worth his salt never walked into a situation blind. For the most part the other medical buildings on the short dead end street had closed up, or were in the process of closing for the night, when he gracefully exited from behind the wheel and walked into the red brick building that declared in bright blue lettering that this was Managed Physical Therapy and Rehab. An elderly lady was coming out as he went in, and he held the door open for her. She eyed him suspiciously before mumbling “thanks,” and wobbled her way to a gray sedan.

  His eyes fell on a little blonde beauty behind a desk who flashed a bright smile at him as he walked up.

  “Hi, are you Jesse?” she asked.

  “Yes I have a 6 o’clock appointment.”

  “I’m Samantha. We talked on the phone.” She looked at him in puzzlement. “I’m sorry…it’s just that you don’t look like you’re in the army.”

  Jesse grinned, since he definitely didn’t, and that was the whole point of SF…blending into the general population. Gone was his military cut, which had been replaced by long dark hair that was parted in the middle and pulled back in a low ponytail. His facial hair was a little on the scruffy side and the well-fitting jeans and gray t-shirt were not Government Issue. “Yeah, I get that a lot, so here’s my military ID card.”

  She studied it before smiling and saying, “Okay, I’ll make a copy for your chart. Please fill out this paperwork and I’ll get you back to your therapist.”

  He watched as she rose from her chair and walked the three feet to the copy machine. She wore a short white sundress with tiny blue flowers that hugged all of her slender 5-foot 8-inch frame. The white of the dress highlighted Samantha’s golden, sun-kissed skin. Her blonde hair hung in curls to her waist. She was a walking, talking picture of an American girl, maybe 22 or 23 years old, and as she turned and handed him back his ID with a smile, he noted that she wore no wedding ring. He took a seat in the waiting room and began the process of filling out his medical history, only to glance up a minute later.

  Samantha had taken a seat at her desk and was quietly tapping away at the computer in front of her. But under her desk he could see her long, gorgeous legs. They were crossed and the dress had ridden high on her thighs. He felt his member begin to grow hard; it had been several months since his last sexual encounter, so it didn’t take much. He raised his amber-colored eyes only to catch her blue ones watching him with humor. Then, ever so slowly, she uncrossed her legs and spread them under the desk and he got a glimpse of white, lacy panties, a thong at that. Damn! He was going to really like coming to therapy!

  He handed her the clipboard with the completed paperwork. Her long, slender fingers arranged it neatly before punching a couple of holes at the top and placing it into a chart with his name written neatly in black.

  “Please follow me,” she said, picking up the chart. She walked around the enclosed desk area and down a hall that suddenly opened up into a large gym, complete with several pieces of exercise equipment. Jesse had been so entranced by her swinging little behind that he had almost missed seeing the hot, sexy number who stood and greeted him from behind a low mat table.

  “Jesse, this is Amy, and she will be your therapist.” Samantha handed his chart to the therapist and, with a wink, left them alone.

  Amy smiled and indicated the waist-high mat table. “Please have a seat, Jesse, and let me get a little information from you before we get started.” She flipped open his chart and began to read. It gave him the perfect opportunity to study her. She had straight, glossy auburn hair that was cut to her shoulders and swung when she moved, a short, compact body with curves that literally made his mouth water. A smattering of freckles across a perky little nose and the greenest eyes he had ever seen completed the package. She seemed closer to his age, at about 28, but she had the body of a teenager. He could tell this by the tight black yoga pants and the equally tight summer sweater she wore.

  “Jesse, tell me how you injured your arm,” she coaxed. Of course he made up some bullshit story, because that information was top secret. SF guys were good at bluffing, so he told her just enough of the truth and made up the rest. She nodded sympathetically and made notes in his chart as he talked. She asked about his surgery, and the therapy he had had immediately afterward, before rising and asking him to remove his t-shirt so she could get a better look at his shoulder.

  ****

  Amy tried to stay professional as she watched this beautiful specimen of a man pull off his shirt. “You are a Doctor of Physical Therapy,” she told herself as she felt her heart speed up and a warm flush creep its way up her body. She had seen hundreds of men with their shirts off. Treated and touched them all without so much as a quiver, but Jesse was going to be different. Just under six feet, with a lean, muscular physique, and a flat washboard stomach, he had the kind of body and face that had women everywhere drooling over romance novels.

  “Everything okay, Doc?” he asked with a wicked twinkle in his eye. The damn man knew exactly how he was affecting her!

  “Sure, fine,” she answered as she reached up to touch his warm shoulder.

  ****

  Jesse took a deep breath and willed himself not to grow hard as her cool, gentle fingers moved over his shoulder. He could have sworn he felt her tremble as she touched him. She was trying hard to be professional, but he had made up his mind that he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. She was close enough that he could tell she smelled like vanilla and sugar and…Fuck! It was not working. His jeans were suddenly growing too tight, and he wiggled, trying to get into a comfortable position.

  “I’m sorry, did that hurt?” she asked, her green eyes intent as though she were measuring his reactions.

  “No, no, it’s fine,” he mumbled.

  Satisfied with his answer, she nodded and continued her probing. “Umm, could you spread your legs for me?” she quietly asked. And he did. She stepped between his legs to get better access to his shoulder area. Her breast rubbed against his naked chest, her hip bone rubbed against his hardened cock. Sud
denly all he could think about was taking her right there and then on the damn mat table. He wanted to see that tight, luscious little body and taste every square inch, and most of all he wanted to hear her scream as he brought her to climax!

  ****

  Amy smiled a little secret smile, one that only a woman could understand. She knew he was hard and he wanted her. And that was okay with her. After all, they were two consenting adults and he was incredibly hot!

  “Jesse, we’ll get you started on some exercises for your shoulder, and maybe some ice afterwards to help with any swelling and pain you could experience.”

  Oh, he was experiencing swelling and pain alright, Jesse thought as he tried to concentrate on what she was telling him instead of the signals her body was sending his way.

  “You just seem to be a little tight, so I think a little stretching and you’ll be good to go.” Amy said with an innocent smile. If he stretched any tighter he was going to pop right out of those jeans, she thought with a little giggle that she tried to hide behind a cough. She ran him through a few stretching exercises, enjoying every chance she had to touch his warm, smooth skin.

  “I’ve printed you out some exercises to do at home. Come on, I’ll walk you up front and Sam can get you scheduled for your next appointment.” Amy picked up his chart and headed toward the front. Jesse pulled his shirt on and followed. “Since today is Friday, maybe schedule something for Monday or Tuesday?” she asked, handing the chart to Samantha.

  “Sure. Tuesday at six again?” he asked.

  Samantha made a few clicks of the mouse and turned to him with a smile. “Tuesday at six it is.”