Command and Control

[JoelR]

COMMAND AND CONTROL

By anonymous.a


It was one of those awful after-hours get-togethers you're compelled to
attend because of your job. The boss says, "Be there at 7. Show the flag."
You wonder why American corporations are so inept – nobody speaks plain
English.

One of our biggest customers was the local Air Force Base. We printed their
newspapers and designed their promotionals. Their contract was a
double-digit slice of our annual revenue, so when a new base commander was
installed, and a "gala" thrown in his honor, we had to be there – boss
included.

It was held at a large hangar on base. Over 500 people were in
attendance. Many were civilian contractors like us, hoping for a chance to
schmooze the new guy. I figured the boss would get that honor, so imagine
my surprise when a dress blue uniform covered by a salad of ribbons and
medals, accompanied by a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman, joined our
little circle of conversation.

The commander was a jovial fellow, but he had one of those vise-like grips
that made you think your hand was being gripped by the Jaws of Life. He was
about 5-6 or 5-7 and probably weighed 175. Close to middle age, he was
mostly bald with a gray fringe around the side and back of his head,
closely cropped of course. My lasting impression of him was his eyes. They
bored into you, as if you were the most interesting person in the
universe. I found myself talking to him despite my usual party restraint.

His wife was pulled aside by another person for a whispered chat. The
commander used the opportunity to hand me his card. He said, "This is my
personal contact information. If you ever want to have lunch one day give
me a yell. Sometimes I like to get away from the ass-kissers." And with
that, he was gone, melting into another knot of conversation, his wife back
on his arm.

I stared at his card in confusion, then quickly hid it in my jacket pocket,
afraid somebody might try to take it from me. I don't know why he afforded
me the honor of spending time with him personally, but I had no intention
of letting this opportunity go to waste. It could be lucrative for me and
the company.

I didn't call him for many weeks. But one day I found myself with a desire
for lunch and nobody to go with me, and I remembered the commander's
invitation. By that time I had entered his info in my telephone contacts,
so I rang him up. He answered with a brusque pronouncement of his last
name. Almost timidly I reminded him of who I was, and asked if he'd like to
break for lunch. At that point his tone become noticeably lighter and
friendlier, and we agreed on a pizza joint between the base and town where
I worked.

I arrived before he did. In fact, as I was walking across the parking lot
to the restaurant a Ford Taurus turned in and came to a stop between me and
the front door. The window whirred down and I peered inside. I was
surprised to see it was the commander – I assumed he would have a staff
car and a driver. But here he was, behind the wheel of his modest ride.

"Let's ditch this place and go to my house," he yelled over the sound of
the engine. "My wife is out of town and I've got a fridge full of stuff I
need help eating before it goes bad."

I agreed and started to head back to my car to follow him, but he said,
"Get in. I'll drive. It's easier than trying to get you past the gate
guards."

So I climbed into the Ford, which was immaculate if I can point out, as my
car tended to be perpetually cloaked in a layer of dirt and tree pollen,
and that was just the outside. The inside hadn't been vacuumed in months. I
could grow crops on the floorboards.

We chatted about this and that as he drove us to his place, a fairly modest
house in officers' quarters on base. I got the impression the commander
just wasn't into the perks of power and that suited me fine. He seemed like
a regular guy, despite all the ribbons and medals on his dress uniform.

We went inside to the living room, which was sunken, consistent with
interior design styles of the 1960s. A lot of military bases had antiquated
living quarters, as military budgets had either been cut or consumed by
high-priced weapons systems like the F-35 and the new Littoral-class
ships. But that was OK. The room was wide and spacious, and decorated
stylishly yet sparsely, as if it represented what I suspected was a
compromise between him and his wife. The only thing I couldn't get past was
the brown shag carpeting, but in a few minutes that would become an asset,
not a liability.

As I eyed the place he stood in front of me, eyeing me, his hands on his
hips. After a few moments I began to feel self-conscious and wondered if he
truly needed help emptying his refrigerator or had brought me here for
other reasons. Turns out, that was exactly the case.

"I'm not much for words," he began, "so I'll just be blunt. The minute I
met you I thought you might be open to having a good time with another
guy. If that's the case then let's have some fun right here on the living
room floor. If not, let's go back to that pizza joint and grab a bite. What
do you say?"

I had not been expecting a nooner, but I was never averse to the
possibility. He seemed fit enough, and it would certainly create a unique
relationship between the two of us.

"What the hell," I said, unbuttoning my shirt. "Get that uniform off."

He gave me a broad smile and started doing his tie and buttons. After a
minute or so of struggling, we were both standing there, naked.

He had an average body and his cock, which was now standing straight out
from his crotch, was only about 5 or 5½ inches. But you know what?
Despite all the 8-inch monsters described in every porn story you've ever
read, most guys are in the 5- to 6-inch range. It's nothing to be ashamed
of and to tell the truth, it feels a lot more comfortable in your ass.

I dropped to my knees and wrapped my lips around the stubby knob. He
immediately let loose with a satisfied groan and began feeding me his
cock. I took him all the way down to the base so I was staring into his
public thatch – dark hair with the random gray here and there . He had a
pungent crotch odor that wasn't offensive but wasn't the alluring, sensual
smell of a much younger man, either. Just different, like he was. More
mature, I guess you could say.

He backed up to the couch and I followed him on my knees as he sat down. He
then spread his legs and placed his hands on the back of my head, guiding
me gently as I slobbered on his pole. His cock had gone from mostly hard to
steel pole rigid, and I had no trouble finding little places around the
fringe, pisshole and underside to circle and tickle with my tongue. These
maneuvers elicited delightful, satisfied moans from the commander.

He raised a foot to the couch and my magic tongue found his nuts and
started lapping at them. They were decent-sized and his scrotum had a light
coating of hairs that were longer than a younger guy's ballsac. I licked
them all around and steered my tongue to the backside of his scrotum, then
traveled even farther south so I was licking his taint. You have to be
careful with guys his age because some of them have, er, what's the polite
term for it? "Hygiene deficiencies" in that region. They don't keep it
clean, and when the male body ages, the taint and the asshole become ripe
for ... well, just ripe. But I guess it was his military conditioning
because he was fine down there. He raised his other foot to the couch and I
had access to his taint and asshole. I'm not a big ass-eater but I will
lick a hole that looks clean, and his did. I gave it a tentative jab with
my tongue and when nothing intolerable presented itself, I started licking
it. He groaned very loudly and took his hands from my head and used them to
spread his butt cheeks so I get better access.

I lapped and snuffled between his ass cheeks and he returned his hands to
my head, burying my face in his butt. The heat was a cauterizing force that
seemed to join our two bodies into a single entity. The commander was going
wild, rocking his butt up and down against my slathering tongue and gasping
with frenzied delight.

Finally, he whispered, "I want you to fuck me!" By this time my own cock
was rock hard and the thought of burying it in this important man's ass
turned me on even more. From somewhere he had produced a small squeeze bulb
of lube – probably hidden between the couch cushions – and I used it
to grease up my dick. I placed it against his pucker and felt it enter with
not much resistance.

"My wife pegs me," he explained. "We may not be in our 20s anymore, but
I'll bet we know a lot more about having fun!"

No argument from me. I slowly pushed my cock inside him until there was
nothing left to push. His internal temperature felt like a million degrees;
Christ, he was superheated and ready to blow. He snarled, "Fuck me, dammit!
That's an order," and I complied, pulling my dick out and pushing it back
into that amazing furnace of sexual heat. He groaned again as I worked up a
rhythm and slid my hands down his legs, from his ankles to his thighs, and
positioned him so I pierce his asshole with my fuckstick.

"Harder," he grunted and started jacking his dick with his right hand. I
picked up the pace and you could hear the telltale slap of flesh against
flesh as somebody is being power-fucked. But that wasn't enough for the
commander.

"HARDER!" he almost yelled. "Fuck me HARDER!" and I began body-slamming
him, knocking the couch headrest against the wall as I drove every
centimeter of my cock into his body and even part of my ball bag. He
squeezed his eyes shut as if to focus on the sensation of my greasy pole
invading his man-hole, and jacked furiously on his own cock, which had
taken on a reddish hue. Maybe it was catching on fire.

I felt the base of my spine beginning to tingle and I knew I had not much
time less before the powerful fuck I was delivering to this man would send
me over the edge. But that didn't matter. The commander began to wail and
suddenly his cock was spurting clumps of jizz all over his stomach and
chest. The man could shoot. A lot of older guys lose that capacity, but not
this older guy. He was cumming like a teenager.

Seeing that eruption of semen was too much for me – I eased my dick from
his ass, jerked it a few times and sprayed him with another dose of
scalding cum, all over his face and chest. I think one jet actually landed
on that bald head of his.

I stood there, crouching over him, the last bit of love juice dribbling
from my cock to land on his as it to leaked the spent remains of his
orgasm. We were both breathing heavily and covered with a layer of sweat.

And then suddenly, almost brusquely, he was up and off the couch. "C'mon,"
he said, pointing with his head to the back of the house. "A quick shower
and maybe a quick lunch, and then we both can get back to work."

We showered together but didn't play with each other's bodies. My
impression was he was in a hurry. We got our clothes back on and he made
sure none of our essence had ended up on the couch (but the room did reek
of a recent, sweaty sexual encounter – there's no mistaking that smell).

Back at the pizza joint we had a quick bite and talked about a lot of
different things, none of them sex related. But as we got into our
respective cars to leave, he winked and said, "Next time, I'm fucking you."

And I didn't have a problem with that.

[JackFTwist]

@JoelR : Kudos to the author.  It's a very good tale, far above average for the genre of on-line gay porn stories.  Unlike most other such stories, it's been proofread very carefully -- I only noticed two noteworthy slip-ups (e.g., public thatch vs. pubic, which a spellchecker wouldn't have caught either), plus a few minor grammatical or punctuation errors.  It's especially notable that he gets the technical details of the story's setting correct, too.  The author is obviously very familiar with his subject matter.  Again, I noticed only three slip-ups, two of them minor.  (One of the minor ones was the description of the base commander's house as "modest."  While it might be modest by some civilian standards, in reality it would be one of the largest and nicest houses on the base, although it would indeed be far from luxurious, but only partly as a result of the budgetary reasons that he gets absolutely right.)  Finally, there's no deadwood -- the story moves at a quick pace, with few, if any, unnecessary details or distractions.

The actual sex scene was a little disappointing IMO, though.  It was hardly very steamy, as these things go.  On the other hand, it was only a nooner or quickie, as well as a first encounter.  Both men would've had to be hurried, and they may well have been more than a little nervous.  But the scene contained the only significant error I noted in the story: they didn't use a condom.  All military personnel receive AIDS blood tests as a part of their routine annual physicals, so it's unlikely a senior military officer like a base commander would've been so careless, especially because anyone in his age group would be very familiar with the tragic, heart-rending experience of the height of the "gay plague" in the late 80s through the late 90s.  Also, he was married, so a positive AIDS test would've raised enough questions to put both his job and his career in jeopardy.

One of my guilty pleasures is occasionally reading one of the Harlequin-style gay romances sold by Amazon and other sites (male-on-male, or "M/M," in the jargon of the reviews; and they're usually "HEA" -- happy ever after).  These include short stories (quite a bit longer than the piece above), short novels (novellas), and novels.  The piece above is better than a lot of those, which often contain a ridiculous number of proofreading and editing errors, including ones that a spell-checker would've caught, as well as errors about their context (e.g., individual sports, military settings like the story above, college stories, etc. -- and their authors are getting paid for them!  The paperback versions of the novels are usually in the same $10-$20 range of other novels of similar length, and even the e-reader editions of those can be absurdly expensive for what you're getting, IMO.  (I buy only the e-reader versions, both because of the much lower prices and because some of the pieces are available only in that format, especially the short stories and novellas.  Fortunately, the major e-readers like the Kindle have free apps available for every Web-capable platform -- phones, tablets, and laptops/desktops -- in both iOS and Android.  It's fairly easy to keep your library synced across all your platforms, so you can read on whichever one you prefer or happen to have available.  That's been a lifesaver for me many times when I've found myself in unexpectedly long waits, since I'm not a big fan of computerized games.)

Edited May 9, 2016 by JackFTwist