I had sex with another man in the army

talkpeace

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Military is not was I supposed it would be, when I first heard my allocation. I was in a position, where I could choose where I'd go, so they gave me only one place to pick. I didn't come from a family with military traditions. Some old, distant uncle or two maybe had a carreer in the force, but I was not in contact with them, so it made no difference to me. I expected, that the service would be a harsh, psychologically and phisically demanding road. That I would have to deal with old-minded people, crazies, might-have-been adolescent criminals and officers with superiority complex. That at least was a scenario that my at the time girflend Olga written for me, along with my parents, brother and sister, and roughly all of the people I knew. Everybody had an opinion about my idea to make a profession for life of military service.

None of the heard things were true, but perhaps the negative thinking made the process easier. Every time I was surprised - that my unit has no hazing waves, no (or maybe just a few) maniacs, and my colleagues are just normal men trying to make a trade out of the army. Also, outranking soldiers could be divided into three groups. Those, who want to make thinks well, those, who want to make things far too well, and those who don't care about anything at all. The most important finding was, however, that a good career is possible. Someone reminded about it from time to time, that the doors to advancement are open to those who show good results, ambition and have their feet on the ground.

The last of the compulsorily enlisted soldiers were leaving the unit. Mandatory service was almost a history. They still sometimes called us "poborowi" (conscripts), and they still complained about the "quality" of the recent conscripts. From the other hand, the older men often said that the volunteering force is far more disciplined, encoureged, have better results. But then, they also complained that the commanders are too easy on us, making it an army different from what they remembered.
This story was supposed to be about how I spend my early time in the army with another man. It's been more than 12 years and only now I am able to call things correct names - I had a lover in the army, or in other words, I spend some time in a gay relationship. Name-calling of those experiences makes no sense to me.

Who never served in the military would never now, what lack of sex, lack of closeness and long periods without any contact with the opossite sex can do to a man. You can have a periodic pass. Those studying have even a student holiday free of service. But between my first and second pass, Olga left me. A story of abandonement is something that many of us had at one moment. At evenings, we would make stories outloud about with whom are our exes whoring that night, just to make the night brighter by reminding ourselves, that something called sex still exists. My break I would spend chasing women, frustrated to a point, that I would certainly hire some hookers if only they were easier to find in my home area. It was hard to explain to my family, what I do at nights and why I won't spend more time with them. Noone understood, maybe except my brother. My friends were still able to make time to meet for a couple of beers, but partying as the old times no longer happened. My long-time friends also thought that idea of military service for life is simply stupid. So, in the end, after Olga left me, I started to meet new people and gradually found myself in totally different group of friends. There was nothing wrong about that essentially, but I think it may just have covered my loneliness. People seen from time to time are not as close to you, as childhood well-known friends.

Happilly women love men in uniforms. Eventually I managed to meet some girl to spend a happy night with. I even started to hope again that I will settle one day, which actually happened eventually, but much, much later. Until then, I had some more and less satisfying visits home. I was not supposed to write about my relations with women, but this one thing - lack of one, is someting that says a lot about serving in a military. One time, I came back to the unit without even one girl fucked, one quickie, one club blowjob, one cinema handjob, even a woman's kiss. Moreover, my family grew adjusted to the fact they practically don't see me. So I came back to the army like I would to a prison - hopeless, thinking that outside nothing and noone waits for me.
The service also changes in time. The initial period of excitement lasts like three seconds. As time passes, the physical trainings drain you, and soldiers grow boorush with each other. Playing cards becomes annoying, because every game is the same. I stopped watching games, because every time the same group of people would watch them, and the same Losek would shout the same, annoying comments. Nobody sees the morning boners anymore, and every morning a parade of erected underpants walks to the bathrooms, and that is so everyday and normal, that even the biggest clowns of the unit became bored of making funny comments about it. Wanking in the toilet cabin became like a chore. People started to make sanitary rules about it - to ejaculate first in a piece of paper, then flush it, never aim to cum in the toilet directly. Said Losek was particularly loud about it. He was an annoying man. But he had a nice mobile phone, the only one with a rather decent, colored screen. A rare thing at that time. Only now and then he would try to impress us with it, showing terrible-quality, short porn videos. I still remember every second of those videos. Most of all the sound. I would recall the sounds many times, wanking in the cabin. Todays' access to porn may be a little crazy, but it definitely makes a lonely man's life easier. It was nothing like that back then. You would get excited by a short sex scene in a movie. You would remember details of a stocking commercial. You would have no nudes of your girlfriend, except the pictures in your head. I feel old.
I write all of this maybe to excuse myself for doing things, that I ultimately am not even that ashamed of, but still, they are a secret.

A year passed. I had my first, really worth taking army contract ahead of me. In this time, in May, another round of field training was due. A march through the valley with fallen trees fully equipped. They said it was 6 km. The youngsters believed. Olders, like me, already knew that this is more or less 10 km. As usual, rumors about the general making inspection at the goal, and people from the ministry would make photos and so on. Those things I didn't believe neither. I knew, that at most, captain Gierek or maybe even captain Płetwa - a typical military jerk would be at the place to scold the slower squads, and then they would allow the fastest teams to spend some time around the nearby lake. That was the time, when I slowly realised, that I was a rather strong and fit man. Far more fit then at the beginning, and more fit then most of the participants. My squad was among the quickest. At the goal, we only had a folddown to finish (roll the tents) - piece of cake. Apparently, previous trainings involved setting the tents. It was all easy. Then we made a report and indeed - we were allowed for a stroll to the lake.
There was a seasonal, dingy store. And old cruncy woman was selling at this time. We all hoped for a young, slutty, big boobed saleswoman, but this time we could only imagine one. It was only May, too early for seasonal employees. It was still an occasion to make some jokes with the old woman, experienced in conversing with a group of lustful soldiers. Walking back we spoke outloud our most explicit, wild sexual desires. Those were the times, in which all of us could see how frustrated we all are, how lack of sex is a common thing. To express our preferences and fantasies. It was like mechanism, to somehow survive with no sex. It makes you feel another kind of bond.

We made it to the field in time to hear the scolding of the slowest squads. We received an order to report back at the unit at 4 pm. The corporals of the quickest teams were to go back on cars. The rest of us - we were happy and thankful. Gierek apparenly was in a good mood. Almost four hours to make the way back without supervision. We expected the youngsters to barely make it. We took the lead.

Maybe 3/4 of the way we were much ahead of the others. In the front, the "right" group of people kept up. It was me, and maybe 8 or 10 friends with whom nothing was off limits. We could finally complain outloud. Staszek could bring up the beer which he couragously bought at the store. But most of all, we could make a break, sit down comfortably while the sun was pleasingly warming our faces. I took just a sip of Staszek's warm disgusting beer, because we had 2 more days of training ahead, and I already knew how alcohol can mess with a tired body. I was sitting comfortably by a fallen tree, speaking rubbish with the others. Some of us still fantasied about a slutty storekeeper. It was chilly, but we were warmed up and the sun was really pleasant. Out of nowhere, Litwin came to me (Litwin means Lithuanian). We called him Litwin, becaused he was the only one to spend time with the Lithuanian exchange soldiers some time before. He was a fellow polish soldier from Mazovia. He sat down next to me and twisted, then he laid down putting his head on me. He adjusted a few times, practically making a bed out of my belly like it was the most common thing to do. I almost screamed at him to get the hell away. I stopped talking completely. I tried to comprehend, what I am doing and what is Litwin doing. Nobody bat an eye. With my every breath, his head moved up and down on my breastbone, and he didn't say anything or do anything, just kept laying with his head on my belly. I didn't know what to do with my hand. Finally, I put it on his chest, because in this position, it was the only place to comfortably rest it. It felt weird and I wanted to take it back quickly, but that would also be weird, so I just let it be. I closed my eyes as he did and rested. I needed to acknowledge, that it was quite a change to feel a buddy next to me. After a long period of no close contact with other people I somehow forgot how it feels. I also admitted to myself for the first time, that I acually liked Litwin, and perhaps he was the only person at the time, whom I would remember years later as a true friend from the army. I was happy to have him close at that precise moment for a brief time just to acknowledge those things. I also had thoughts that things like that - men in uniform laying next to each other or with each other were common around the unit, and nobody makes fuss about it. Jokes about it got boring. Later, the following teams came close, so we moved ahead like nothing happened.

Only after I wrote all of those things at the beginning I see, how irrelevant, boring and not pushing the story forward they may seem. I started writing just to express the unusual things I did at the beginning of my service. But it was a dry, who-what-to-whom kind of story, so I added a beginning, then I wrote about what thing lead to the other. I was not aware that im a literary man. I was not aware that I could really write this much in english. Well, this is probably the all time highest point of my english skills, I guess I've got north atlantic alliance to thank for that, and even though I read the text like 4 times, I can't see the errors that are in it for sure. You just have to bear it or someone else will have to correct them. I wasn't able to show the text to anyone I know, and If I was able, I wouldn't write it in a foreign language in the first place.
Chatting and the store, sex stories, expressed frustration. We are all the same and there is something animal about us. In my writing, I finally reached a point in which today, calmly thinking I can say, everything began. Something snapped in me. But it turned out to be just a story of how a friend laid his head on me. Pathetic.

Still, my friendship with Litwin developed from that point. Until then, I was the one not getting close to other people, focusing on trainings and wining about Olga leaving me. It was nice to discover a person, with whom there are countless common topics, common opinions. We had maybe not that many occasions. But when they happened, we would get together without scheduling, it was unarguable that we find way for some kind of activity together: football, tv, cards, anything. We always had things to talk about. We liked the same jokes. We were turned on by the same acresses. If for whatever reason we would not see each other for a day or a few, the next time we would talk for hours without a break. He would speak about boring, repetetive activities from the previous days in a funny and interesting way, so I was always happy to listen. When I saw him I also told him about things that I knew he might find interesting, and there were a lot of them. It was like a conversation that never ends or starts, it simply continues at the next occasion without new greetings or hellos. He would see me and start with "So this morning I...". After some time, we were supposed to spend more time with each other, because after the guard's shuffle, we received a night guard together at the gate.

The gate was the most liked guardspot in the entire unit. Guarding this place was like a reward for behaving soldiers. The only duties were to tour the area and to ID and let in people coming. Most of the nights, absolutely noone came at night from that direction. In the building there was a toilet, but it was out of service. Stuffed with broken furniture. We peed outside in the back of the house. If someone needed to take a dump - he had a problem, a trip back to the unit was neccessary. It was not my first guard at this spot. Guarding during the day was made by one person most of time.
The desk inside was around 3-chairs wide (but there were two). It was an old and deep desk. Every night there it worked the same. One person goes for patrol, the other one jerks off under the desk. On the next patrol they switch, and the second person can relieve himself. It required some courtesy and good timing, not to come back from the patrol too soon, so to not disturb the wanker's happy moment. Under the desk, although everyone takes cleaning duties seriously, there was a grand flux of dried semen on the wall. With a good light one could see a good and partially yellowed wax-like layer of cum that could be easly scratched away in thick layers. A rather unpleasant sight if you think about it. But in those circumnstances - a most common and normal thing to see. Similar, but much smaller trails of cum were left in front of the seats on the sides. Generations of privates silently agreed, that it was the perfect spot to get off, that there you can slide your pants down to the feet and fantasise without risk of beeing seen. Generations of soldiers as well agreed not to ever clean the cum, so that everyone can know, that this was a place of choice, to spurt away frustration, homesickness or longing for girlfriend's hips. Not only during the night, but at night it was the most comfortable. With Litwin we did the same. Even if he had never sat there before, it was like an instinct. Everybody immediately knew how it works.

All night shifts tended to drag on in time. After several shifts together, we grew boring of talking, or maybe finally out of topics. At times we would just sit there, listening to the radio, having a chat once in a while when someone came up with something interesting to say. Jerking off was the brightest moment of the night. The watch could be divided into two distinct peridos of time - waiting for "your" patrol, which was the part of anticipation, and the part after you discharged, which was boring and seemed logner. With Litwin, at least, we spoke about our urges, which was a nice change - to understand someone in these areas and have no subject off limits. We all have similar needs. We didn't speak about how nice we got off, after we were done, of course. Believe me, jerking off was a routine, since people were doing it all the time and everywhere, it would just be another boring topic. It was more about saying outloud "I hate that bitch but I would forgive her for just this one night". All those years of being a foul mouthed man, locker room talks and parties, but I don't remember ever admitting out loud, in the presence of another man, how much I miss my girl and fucking her, and not with intention of making a silly joke. Except during those talks with Litwin. He understood. And it also wasn't to make ourselves pointlessly horny, it wasn't even a sex talk. It was just about expressing feelings, getting them off chest.
During one of these watches, the most weird and uncomfortable thing happened to me. It happened when I came back to the house after my patrol. I cautiously approached the building, trying to find out if he finished. I've learned already that he needs a little longer than other people I watched the gate with. I saw his face through the window, and he shook his head in a denying gesture, marking that he's not finished, but at the same time, he waved at me calling me to come inside. Before I entered, he already pulled his pants up, so I thought he was finished after all. There was no recognizable smell of semen. He stood up (dressed) and said:
- I am going to approach you for a moment and touch you a little. Don't say anything and make no comments, please.
I started to mumble a little surprised. He came to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and on the other shoulder, he laid his face and gently pushed it against me. I needed to lean for more support, because he put some of his weight on me. My first thought was honestly, that something happened and he was going to tell me about it, some kind of family trouble or something. That he maybe finally found courage to share something that was bothering him, since we became close friends, and he simply needed a hug. I finally got my shit toghether and started saying something, and then:
- Shhh.. just shh.. - he whispered.
Meanwile he pulled his pants down and started masturbating again. I have never had such a confusing situation in my life before. I just stood there like paralyzed. Once I span out of shock, I was worried that we could be seen. I looked around and were calm again - even if something is visible, it is by someone far far away, where it could be hard to determine what was going on. Finally I decided, that as his friend, I should understand and not make a fuss about it. No harm to me. He had a need for a little closeness. Not many friends, girflend left him, noone waiting outside of the unit. I decided to give him what he needs, hold out and keep the thing a secret. I wrapped my hand around his back. The situation at the time was not a pleasant one to me. I would rather not be used this way. I just waited for him to finish. Curiosity had its way however, one second I tried to have a glimpse of him jerking off, but I didn't see anything. He was standing too close to me. He was breathing heavily. Possibly smelling me. I remember his hair smelling like engine oil, no idea why. To this day I can recall that smell like it was yesterday. Finally, he pulled his underpants up:
- Ok, now you can leave for a while.
And thats exactly what I did. And he sat back at the spot in the middle of the desk. This time I was standing close to the house. I saw his arm wanking those last moves, I saw the tempo, but most of all, I saw the pleasure, and I was envious.

I had this text secretly saved for a few years. Added and cut stuff like it was a living diary and I can pick which memories to change. I finally decided to post it. But with this 20k characer limit it is going to be defficult.
 

talkpeace

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The whole thing was strange. Until the end of the guard, It was awkward between us. I felt weird. It is one thing, to know that someone jerked off recently, and a completely different one to be a subject of it and really see the relief appearing on his face as he comes. As if it was "gay". We didn't speak about it. Litwin didn't try to repeat it next time, and weeks later, I barely remembered that it ever happened.

A change came some more weeks later. Days come, when exhaustion takes all will of even speaking to each other. We turned up in the right places on the right time, to make it until the end of the day. We fell asleep instantly, and the night was short like a blink of an eye. In these times, jerking off becomes another annoying need to have. Despite the wearidness, you need to get your thoughts in order, focus, recall a girl's pussy which you barely remember, or maybe a favourite porn movie, just to squeeze out some semen and relief out of yourself. And yes, a maybe a periodic leave happened to you, during which you foundnd a girl and fucked her, but then, being enclosed with all this things to do, thinking that the extensive training will this time be too much for you, that you will have to finally admit that you can't take it or you will embarass yourself with fainting surrounded by half the soldiers of the unit, in that time, the girl you fucked is like a creature of a fairy land. Far away and not real.

During one of those heavy-training periods, once, I was just spending some time sitting on the floor by the wall in the rec room, on a spot where I can still see the tv, and I simply hang up thinking nothing, having auto-pilot chats with the people around, looking at the tv but not really watching it. Simply waiting for the night to come. It was warm already, so I sat in my t-shirt. Litwin came and sat next to me, so close, that our upper arms touched. He started to chat. I spoke with him, but it was one of those tired conversations. Short questions, lazy answers, because it was our custom to talk, because we always talk, but this time we really had no desire for anything. Ever since he was sitting next to me, all I could think of was that our arms are touching, skin on skin. Just a fellow man, a warm body so close to me and I only had like 5 squared centimeters of this closeness. I could not stand it anymore. I finally slid my hand back his neck and wrapped my arm around him. He then sank a little lower, cuddling his head onto me. One could say, a male-female way of watching tv. Everyone could see us, and as I suspected, noone bat an eye. Men in uniform fooling around, what's new. People kept talking, me too. But my thoughts still revolved around the idea, how nice it would be to sit shirtless, having his warm body close, pressed against my bare skin. These thoughts can really mess you up. I am reading what I wrote. Again, pathetic. Not realy an erotic story. But it gets better.

Our next night guard with Litiwin was around a week later, after the training period. The moment he should leave for his patrol, to leave me jerking off, he timidly asked me If I'd like some help. He guessed correctly, how tired of loneliness I was and how frustrated. I tried not to overthink it, and simply agreed, not knowing what kind of help would that be. I slid my chair to the official wanking spot in the middle of the desk. He sat next to me, put his hand on my neck and carresed it.
- Go ahead - he tempted.
I slid a little lower on the chair, not pulling down my pants more than it was neccessary, I started to play with my cock, having a hard boner quickly. It was nice but lets face it - neck-petting is not really an experience and it soon started to distract me. Litwin had no idea how he intended to "help" me.
- Come on, stand up - he said finally, after he stood up himself.
I had doubts. One of them was about exposing myself to him with an erected penis in my hand. We had seen each other naked before on various occasions. I had no memory of seeing him with a boner, but then I kept no notes about hard cocks in the army. Still, jerking off was not a public business to me. I hesitated, but then, I wanted to experience something in this hut at last. I moved away from the window, so that we were almost invisible through the windows and the half-open door. I was embarassed, but as far as I noticed, he didn't even have a peek of my dick. If someone came from the unit, the dog would bark. We only risked one thing - that a car would approach the gate and find that no guard was present on the watch.

I was afraid that he would grab my penis, because I wasn't sure I would allow it. I thought foolishly that it was "too gay". But he didn't try. He stood behind me, leaning on my back. He rubbed my shoulder with his hand. He used his other hand to rub my chest or my belly. This was it. This was the thing that I needed, a little closeness that I longed for. I felt that I need only to stroke for a while, and a satisfying and natural orgasm will come smoothly. I stroked heavily. But he took another step and started to comment, whispering into my ear keeping his face close:
- Oh yeah... Relieve yourself buddy... There you go.. Of course you want to come nicely... - It's just like fucking... It will be so good to you real soon... You will fly that cum soon at it will be so good...
After those remarks, he moved his hand above my belt and found way under my clothes. He slid his hand under my jacket and put it on my bare skin around my bellybutton, his cool hand swept on my belly, he moved it slowly onto my chest, he then grabbed my chest muscle really strongly, pressing me against himself.
- Come on... Shoot - he whispered a little louder, like he was ordering me.
And I came hard. I don't know how he came up with it. I didn't expect anything like it, but it was very effective. I came almost immediately. I broke away from his grasp and sat down in the middle of the desk as quickly as I could. I pushed the chair to get close to the cumming wall, but it was too late. The first volley I've ejaculated high into the air. I was a little dissapointed that I came partially handsfree, since it's not as pleasurable to me. But then, I knew we will do it again some time. I was going to make sure of it. I came so naturally. My heart was pounding strongly, I was confused, surprised, maybe shocked. I remember the adrenaline rush of living through something new and unexpected - and that sticks with you.

Stil, some remorse kicked in after my dick went flacid, but I knew it was too enjoyable to forget.

I had wished for a nice orgasm for far too long.
Indeed, we assisted each other more from that point. I did similar stuff to him. It is easy, once you learn what you need yourself at that moment wanking. We made no fuss about it - it was just our brief time to ourselves. We had several ways of doing it, standing, sitting, with shoulder massage, chest fondling. I liked it especially when he kept his face close to my neck and I felt his breathing so close to my ear. It gave me back the forgotten feeling of intimacy which you usually have while slowly fucking in bed. We just watched out that the entire thing stays secret. We almost never spoke about it outside of that house. It was really not a big deal. Nothing really changed in the way we interact with each other, apart from the fact, that we liked to spend 10 minutes helping each other to get off from time to time.

The real awakening came some time later for me. There was a variety of day to day tasks in the army. We were really busy and I would lie if I said, that thinking of our man-to-man experiences took any significant portion of any of the days. Those were more like little episodes that we had with a singular goal - to unburden ourselves. A few times I had doubts. I knew what we do is weird, but the official line of thinking was, that all it was is innocent men playing, with no homosexual context. One time however, I felt it a different way. I was sitting in our rec hall with my buddies. We sat on a low and narrow, preschool-like bench. Litwin was not with us, but finally he came. I knew he was going to lay down on that bench, though it seemed impossible to maintain stable position, and put his head on my thigh. He assumed that position a few times before. Spending time in various, a little kinky positions is something that we were doing publically and often at the time. It was nothing strange at all. No homosexual and not even sexual context. Other soldiers did the same, with us, with each other, so we didn't feel weird about it anymore. Except, this one time I needed to flee shortly after he laid down. I was wearing shorts, and because of his head on my thigh, and his hair pulling against my skin, I suddenly became very aware of my penis swaying between my legs, and realised how close his head and my dick really are. The forbidden connection. For a nanosecond a strange group of thoguhts came rushing. I just glimpsed at his face around his lips, some facial hair on it. And my dick practically in the same place. Swiftly boiling blood stormed my crotch and I needed to runaway. I knew I was going to have a wild boner so I ran. That was the moment, that really messed me up, because there was no better explanation of the situation, than the fact that I was sexually attracted to him. There were other explanations, however, and until I made peace with myself I stopped all our playing and fondling. We spent less time toghether, and I was left with more unrest with my own thoughts, bacuse hey - I was not gay, so I should not do stuff like that. Litwin suggested having some fun on occasions during our watch, but he never insisted. We were back to jerking off in solitude. But in the end, not so soon, I cracked. The reason was the same as always - I simply craved for some closeness, we all did. I couldn't resist the pleasure, because when we assisted each other, orgasm came easily and naturally, and it was more fun. Long story short(er) - in the end, we did with each other almost everyhing that the world of gay sex has to offer.

He was the first to suggest anal sex, and I refused.
- It's great when it's great and all, but you still have that need to fuck. Listen, it will be best, if I sticked it inside you. I will stick it in you, than you will do it to me. - more or less, those were the words he used. Really straightforward.
- No. But no. Don't push it. You're fucked up. We're doing too much already. You will fuck on your leave.
- I don't know. I will or I won't. Until my leave, I wil lose my mind. Come on, just a little bit, we'll not do it entirely, just you know, to finish.
- Are you out of your mind? - I almost shouted at him - We will not fuck like a pair of fags.
- So, maybe I will just pretend to do it a little bit. You don't have to do it to me. I will slide it between your cheeks and wipe a little - saying that, he reproduced a short scene by moving his hips up and down.
- Are you listening to yourself? There is no way I'd do it. I'm going to jerk off as usual, end of story.
I cut the subject. The word "wipe" displeased me the most.

We did not do it that time, and not for some time later. But he kept buggering me about it. He insisted. Taboo was finally lifted. Every time we saw each other alone, he would make those stories about how pleasurable it would be, how discreet, how many possibilities it will bring to our service in the military. "Remember that feeling, when the tip of the dick goes inside a warm hole?". On occasion I asked him if he was gay. He was angry with me for even asking. Of course he was straight. But he noticed, that him being straight does not play well with his repeated attempts to have anal sex with me - another man. So he eased his attempts for a while, but never stopped. Finally I cracked again. The feeling that "I just shouldn't" was gone. He had everything planned by that time. He explained to me on every possible occasion, how we'll do it, position in which he would stand, what would he lean on, where he would put his hands on me. He would change some details in the middle of the story, and than say it again frome the beginning, to give the consistent version with recent changes. When we would sit somwhere alone in the free time, he would stay on this topic with no break, adjusting the boner in his pants. It was like his stories about doing it with me took place of the usual sex-talking, with famous actressess, ex-girlfriends and pornstars involved. He would also tell me how nice it would feel on my cock, how easy I would cum. Finally we would both adjust the boners in our pants, and I knew I was convinced. Of course I cracked. The thought appeared in my head too often. We agreed to do it during our next watch at the gate at night. Hearing a word of agreement from me made him even more eager. I could see it in his eyes, every time we'd meet somewhere, he would just look and I knew where his thoughts wondered. He only stopped talking about it when we were actually inside the house, guarding the gate. We were just waiting for the right, conventient moment during the night.

Standing there, with my bare ass and waiting for him to push his penis inside me was a little humiliating I must say. My every second thought was to stop it immediately, but every next one was to bear it, because I will soon remind myself how it was to slide my cock inside a warm body. He used saliva, a few times, and he spread it all around my ass making it sticky, driving his cock in all directions, seeking entrance. I tried to help him lifting my ass and looking for a right angle. Believe it or not, the success of this operation was also in my interest. At last, he started pushing in and out, and I wrongly assumed that the dick is inside me and the whole feeling is completely bearable. But when he really pushed the tip into my ass, it stinged. It burned. It pulled on my skin and it pushed inside me. Almost immediately after, he pushed all of his cock inside, with one strong stroke, grasping my hips willfully. It brought me a strike of overwhelming pain that frightened me for one second. Please don't do it to first timers. Out of pain I spasmed and fled a little, but I stopped, because I realised, that was it. I beared the pain and let him push it out and all the way in that one more time.
- Yeah hold out, I'm coming. Oh yes.. this is so so good.. Oh my fucking god...
Saying those things he was pumping his cum inside me. He used short, pulsating moves, not to hurt me anymore. That was not the deal. I never anticipated cum in my ass. His detailed story about it never covered it. I thought he would cum under the desk, as usual. But it was too late to negotiate.
- Oh man, that was it. That was fucking awesome. - he said quietly, after he already pulled his cock out of me, and I was standing there, trying to project what would be the physiological effect of having man's cum inside my bowels. Now everyone can read on his phone about "anal sex". But then, It was all blind freestyle and you had all the doubts in the world. What will hapen with the fluid? will my body somehow reject it as foreign cells? will the sperms move? will it give me diarrhea? And I got to say some quick thoguhts of disgust about myself also came to get fought away. Nice friendly exchange of plesures is one way to put what we did. But standing there with my asshole a little sore, just worrying about what I've done, with him grunting about how nice he came, standing with his dick still out like a pervert - well it was confusing to say the least.
 

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Suddenly I grew afraid, that once he came, he would refuse to keep his side of the bargain. Maybe the thought appeared for a second. But he wouldn'd do it to me. He moved past me and assumed my previous position, sticking out his bare ass. I did it in the exact same way he did it, but I aimed better. I put my penis inside way sooner. Well - he didn't exaggerate. The feeling of a tight hot hole surrounging my dick. Indeed, it was fucking awesome. It was different, and after the long period of no sex at all, I was just extatic. The forbidden feeling, and no strings attached feeling added to the experience. I came with maybe a few strokes, less then a minute. That first time took me a little longer then him, but I was a little distracted from the funny feeling in my own asshole. But every push was so very rewarding, the hole enveloped my penis so tightly, every milimeter of it was stimulated. And when I came, it was such a relief, like with every pulse of my semen I felt my blood pressure going down, and all my nerves settle with every grunt. Because yes, I diffused everything inside him, in retaliation. I felt his ass and legs got a little stiff, the instinctive push must have hurt him, but he held out, which made me forgive him for cumming in me and making me feel that second of unbearable pain. That immediate relief, the instancy of it, you only get it from quickies. But as pressure was released, came shame, guilt. Was it really worth it?

Until the end of the night it was weird. We talked about it, but not a lot. Both me and him had a weird feeling, that we crossed over the line this time. I was ashamed. Apart of that, I simply felt bad physically. I felt the need to wipe my ass every few minutes minutes, because it felt like it was leaking, while in fact it was dry all the time when I checked. The feeling in the asshole was really troubling, like there is something still there. Also, I felt disgusted of touching my own penis, and it really needed some nursing, all itchy, demanding some airing or even better a shower. I also still felt embarassed of showing him my penis, so to really help it we would get in a corner of the room and make funny poses with our backs turned. So we sat there and kept adjusting our uncomfortable dicks. I immediately decided, that it was a one time thing. Litwin too talked about it as if it was an interesting, one time experience, never mentioning a repetition.

We did repeat it, however. It was unavoidable. When another period of tiredness and chastity passed, all it took is to close us down at a night's guard together. I looked at him and kept asking myself - why not? He will never tell anybody. He will not refuse, because I will also offer, and I can stand it. After it's done we can forget it completely. I will maybe feel like shit for a while but damn it, I need to feel it again and I need to cum so much. Tired of masturbating. Last time I came almost instantly. It will take no time. It will put no more strain on our relationship. We've already done it. It's not like we're gay or anything. All that will change is that we will be happy and satisfied.
Being aware, that quick male sex is so easly accessible, that all it takes is to ask and to offer, it is hard to hold back. It was hard to move back to sad, lonely gushing on the leak on the wall.

The hygiene was a problem to me. I'm one of those guys, who don't like to make a mess close to the body. I never cum on my bed - in the matress, into the sheets, into my own underpants, although it was popular to do it this way in the army. Cleaning cum from my belly with a dry cloth alone was never enough for me to feel clean. I don't like the smell of semen too. So sitting there in the hut for hours, having in my pants a dick dipped in cum, that was recently inside another man's ass was really uncomfortable to me. And I just wanted to forget the deed, it was hard like that. Litwin didn't like it too. We tried cleaning our cocks with water from a bottle, of which a main result was that the smell of ass and cum was everywhere - on hands, on the floor, on clothes, but at least our cocks were relieved a little. I liked about him, that we could turn everything into a joke, even sprinkling water on dirty dicks while hiding in the corner of the room, and smoke the smell away with cigarettes.

I won't say we did it a lot, the night shifts were like a reward, and I knew I deserved it. But it was also a lazy responsibility. Not a way to be productive. Not something you should want to do around. But I can definitely say, that every time we were alone there, which was every time except some times when there were some night excercises or maintenance around, we fucked. There were all quickies, very exciting and rewarding. From time perspective, I regret nothing in that hut. It was fun to treat it almost like sport, with no strings attached. "Come on let's do it. I need to cum, I'm hard already I can't help it". "No, wait at least until 2 am. I need it too, and I go first tonight, remember?". The anticipation helped, dicks covered in some of precum which made it easier to push inside, and less painful.

Later we started to fuck in the showers. It was a far better spot to me. After the night shift all you had to do is to join the morning muster, then you went into showers and then you could sleep during the day. It was risky, however, because there was no guarantee, that we would be alone in the showers. But that way we could do it even if we had sepperate assignments during the night, or on occasion, even during the day. But it was way harder since then other people kept following into the showers and there was no "yeah I'll be right out I'll just have a quickie with Litwin" excuse. In my opinion shower was the perfect place. Complete hygiene and comfort, and what's more important - nudity. Nudity meant closeness, and that was a thing I desired most of all. Getting completely inside of him, I would stand really close, and not let him bend too much, so my chest touched his back. He then knew how I liked it, and pressed his naked body on me on purpose. I would grab his hips and with a few strong pushes, It made me cum quickly. I liked it far better than hut quickies, but It was hard to spend the night waiting on the watch and not fucking. The sex action took just a few minutes. We came instantly like a pair of teenagers. If someone came, we could separate quickly, and two naked men in the showers, including one with a boner - that was not a shocking sight at all.

At the time we had to use the biggest bathroom, which had entrance just a few meters from the main entrance to the building. Also, it had windows. People were coming in and out often, most of times never reaching the shower room, only taking a leak in the toilets or taking something from a locker. But you newer knew. We were disturbed a lot. The action was quick but it gave a lot of adrenaline. And waiting all night, anticipating sex, just to find out there's no way we can have a moment alone in the shower, was the most frustrating thing that could happen. One time it forced us to seek other places to fuck. We once did it in the cabins, more than once in the woods, even in a not used duty office, that is practically in the corridor, so it was pretty risky. But you really needed to be alone for a just two minutes. If it was hard I would do him, we'd go somwhere else and he'd do me. All it took is some lazy moment in the building, with little people around. Almost no undressing, just the dick and the hole gets out. Muscle memory made us assume the perfect position for penetration immediately. With him, every time was like a hot quickie with a babe. But also, at the same time, it was like a sad chore that I did, needed to do, but was completely confused about why.

I still felt like I wouldn't wan't to do it, if only my body didn't make me with that recurring painful horniness. It is like we are our own slaves. Why do we need to cum so often? why it feels so urgent after just days of not doing it? why is jerking of not enough? it's like we're just ejaculation machines, and all things we do around are to excuse fucking.
I don't really think that, but wandering around the unit with Litwin, looking for a place where I can prostitute my ass for some relief, those thoughts were with me all the time. The excitement was mixed with being generally annoyed that I met a guy who will allow that discreet arrangement. It maybe made some parts of the service brigther, but it also made me even more frustrated at times. Expecially, at times when we met and wanted to do it. Almost blue balls. But there was no way to do it, we needed to go seperate ways with no relief. I hated it, and at those moments, I hated myself and questioned everything about my relationship with that man. But I changed nothing. I am an ejaculation machine, so is he, and we sticked conveniently around. Also, I liked him. We were friends. It may seem at this point of the story like we did it all the time. But we really didn't. Every time was separated by weeks or at least days of chores and normal human interaction. From the time perspective, summarizng all experiences, reliving them, it really was a lot more gay sex than I admited to myself. So yes, we maybe fucked a lot, but every time was so separated from the other, and so similar to the previous, that every one of them could be ultimately considered just a forgetable exchange of services. Definitely, in my head at least, not gay sex.

These experiences of fucking around the unit camt in handy, because time came where we needed to start demanding more important tasks than guarding the gate. It was simply not a way to advance. The more good-hearted officers often reminded about it. Watches at the gate were still assigned to me sometimes because it was thought to be a reward, and I often deserved it. Everybody knew that Litwin was my best friend, and he was a hell of a dutiful soldier, so we had more other things to do together, as they assigned us to the same fields of work. But it didn't mean more fucking. Just the opposite. We then had less and less oportunities. We started to meet more rarely and even more frustrated than at the beginning.

Later I finally acquired access to the sleeping cubicles. They had been saying since the beginning, that after the night's duty, guarding soldier can take keys to one of the cubicles to sleep off in a quiet room, in solitude. But in practise, noone was allowed to enter these rooms because they were used for storage. Finally, when the rooms became available, they were already un-customary, and people generaly didn't use them. They were little rooms, usually with a couple of beds and apart of that, a lot of junk from all over the unit - broken furniture, old dirty sofas, broken devices. Airless and filthy rooms. Perfect for men trying to discreetly fuck each other's asses. And now I know something gay was going on about my thoughts at that time, because that was exactly my thought when I saw one of the rooms. "There we could quickly and discreetly fuck with Litwin". Man to man, me, fucking him, and him fucking me, another man. Only I really, I swear, after fucking him so many times, didn't at all consider it gay. I didn't consider it sex. I didn't consider it anything.
 

talkpeace

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It was in one of those rooms where Litwin took another step. It started on one evening, we went to the staircase next to the unused duty office. The stairs were not unused, but we would hear anyone coming from either side in advance. I kept looking outside the entrance if noone's coming.
- So did you get hard? let's do this - I finally asked, almost pulling down my pants.
And he hesitated to answer. I looked at him, he's been massaging a good bulge in his pants so he was apparently ready.
- Are we doing it? Let's do it now - I asked again.
- Yes I'm hard. But I don't wan't to do it now. We have a sleepoff in two days. If we do it now, you will not wan't to do it then. I prefer to do it in a room.
- Yeah me too, but I need it now. At least let me do it - I asked and started quickly getting myself hard before he answered. There was no time, somebody will come eventually. He took some time to answer again.
- Sorry buddy. You won't let me then. I know this, it already happened. Let's just wait the two days. It will be so much better.
I had such a momentary rush of anger and frustration. I felt cheated, I already followed him in a shameful march of horny losers to the assfucking point, with all the screwed up thoughts I usually have about what I'm doing with my life, and now he won't even let me cum. I felt like was going to finally tell him I'm done with that and go to hell. And as if he saw the anger on my face, he looked at me worried.
- Please don't be angry at me, buddy - with a soothing whisper he asked - please don't be angry at me, please don't be angry at me - repeated twice more and his face was so sad and worried.
Somehow it worked. So easy. Before he was done talking I was calm again. It was in the end, not a big deal. I will simply jerk off like every guy in the unit, and every guy outside. He knew how to get my nerves in order.
- Okay. Let it be your way. I'll survive.
We wen't to the rec room and 1 minute later we were talking as usual, like nothing happened. But the frustration built up. And I now know that he had planned something for that sleepoff.
Usually when we fucked, some internal instinct urged the fucker to bend the fuckee down and stick the cock inside real deep, so penetration feels the best. The fuckee, however, tried to resist, maintaining a half-bent half-standing position, so it hurt less. It was a momentary wrestle which passed unnoticed, because all sex took just a minute. That time, however, Litwin undressed from waist down completely, bent over a desk, stick up and spread his ass high in the air, giving me completely unrestricted access to his asshole. When I was sticking the tip of my dick inside of him, as he grunted he whispered to me "This time take your time, buddy" and I was sure it was out of pain. I momentarily wondered if two days before he maybe had his ass sore, maybe he had a diarrhea or something. He should probably just tell me. But whatever. But it turned out it was not it.
So I grabbed his waist and pushed myself onto him, drilling his ass to the deepest, I stayed like that. Stayed for a moment long enough to get the closeness that I need, but short enough that thoughts of doubt and confusion won't come. I pulled out and back in, being able to focus on the feeling of tight stimulation. I found out it can fell even better, when his body encircled my cock entirely and tightly around. I fucked him for maybe a few minutes, longer then usual. Only speeding up for the final pushes. And I came so hard, and all the wait paid off to me. Such a relief to just ejaculate inside with no clothes on him and nothing blocking the access. I prefer to go the second and be done with everything as soon as I cum. But it was his turn. And it turned out he only did it to excuse himself for fucking my ass far more roughly than he used to. I didn't take off my shorts completely, but he pulled them all the way down. He started slowly. At first It hurt as usual, but I was used to it. It hurt every time we did it. I read that the pain goes away with repeated anal sex, but obviously we were doing something wrong. Every time was painful. Every time my asshole felt sore at least until the next day. But from that moment on, the feeling of being fucked would really stick for some time.
Maybe he was especially tired or distracted, or maybe, more likely, he planned to relieve himself hard that time. On my expense. I don't know. But he fucked me much longer, and I mean several minutes with no break and no stop. It hurt, and when I tried to run with my ass, he calmed me down and asked me to bend down and try to bear it. And I did because I knew, the better if feels, the quicker he'd be done. But I didn't anticipate so much. I felt much of push and pull in my insides, it was worrying apart from just being painful. And he finally came as usual, getting all the way in until I felt his balls hit my balls, and with short pulsating moves, he had his orgasm.
- Thanks it was so fucking amazing. - he said. And breating heavily went to wash his dick. I hated that thank you but I couldn't reply anymore. After we were done, the taboo was back, so we were back to not talking and not acknowledging that we fuck. I felt like he crossed over the line and I want no more. But it lasted maybe day or two.

His intrusion started a wave of crossing line after line. We started to do it longer and rougher. I grew more comfortable with the thought of having my penis inside another man's butthole. Before, I considered it to be an unnamed act of pleasuring myself. I slowly realised, that it was not about magically getting off standing behind another man, and bodies are joined together with one of us really being inside of the other. It was a dirty, sticky act, and there was no way around it.
 

talkpeace

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It was supposed to go with the previous one.


One time, after sex, we remained laying on one bed. My foot was touching his foot, and had my hand wrapped around him. I tried not to move, because It would put attention on the kinky position we're at, and needlesly becausem we already got off. So I sort of cuddled him but not moving. All I was thinking, was that this time I didn't have enough of it. It was so comfy to get some of that closeness, It made me stay horny. It was our only time in weeks, It was only as satisfying as a 3 minute intercourse can be, and I knew, that another period of training starts the following day, so it will be maybe weeks before we can have sex again. So I kept thinking about sex and shortly I was ready for another round. He fell asleep, which was dangerous, because we shouldn't be seen laying on the same bed. I woke him up and he walked to his own bed. But then I stood up and approached him, and I declared my wish to fuck him one more time. We was reluctant, but obedient, he stood up and pulled down his underpants. But I told him to kneel on the floor, since it was the only way that could work for me without furniture squeaking.
For the first time, I did it with him the way I usually did it with women doggystyle. I fucked him for a long time, all sweaty. I was changing tempo. I would stay still inside for a while to rest, pressed against him so I got the most of the feeling of joined bodies, I would feel little spasms on the tips of my fingers, which marked my pulse on the places where I was grasping him tightly, and then I would continue. He asked if I'm close quite a few times. He asked for a break once or twice. I asked him to bear it and he did. He did a lot to keep me happy. A full-fledged, long sex, long orgasm. Another forgotten feeling of tiredness and falling asleep with the post-orgasmic feeling still present on my cock. And yes, on another occasion he did it to me, and I had to learn how to bear it, because he was rough.

Another time, he laid down on me. I was already on my bed, shades shut, waiting for him to come from the bathroom, so we can fuck before sleep. When he entered the room, he just said "Don't get up".
He got up on the bed slowly, first one hand, then the other. I guessed maybe he's in a mood for a foreplay, I should tell him not to waste time. But then whatever, he'll be done with the silly game soon so I just decided to wait it out.
He laid one of his knees on the other side of me, and then slowly moved forward, bending his arms which he supported on. I was against the waste of time but as he was descending and I knew soon I will feel his body on me I got a little excited. He swoop his chest on my chest, it was electric and made me close my eyes to feel the best of it. I felt him heavily on me and I thought that was it, but he was still supporting himself. When he pushed all his weight on me, I couldn't believe how heavy a man's body can be. I was anviled to the bed, and who didn't live it, will not understand, a fairly muscular body of a man is really, and I mean, really heavy when you have it on you. My first thought was that he is wasting our prescious sex-time, but then it felt so good and I knew it was worth it. It was like the world disappeared (and not of me suffocating). Feeling of safety, warmth, intimacy, all I ever tried to get from those hookups. I hugged him forcefully in this position, and that was it - our highest point of giving away intimacy and closeness. In just a minute It got weird. He was also probably struck with doubts like what the hell are we dong. So we joked a little to break the tension.
- Is that good for your back you're sure? - he asked
- You know I can push you away aaany time I wan't.
- The hell you can with that flat chest of yours.
I gave him a little punch on his arm.
But moving my arm made me feel I had a boner strongly pressing against his body, and needed to force my hand between us, to rotate my cock so it wouldn't break. And we could no longer speak to each other. It was also one of just a few situations in which I actually, unintenionally touched his dick through his underpants. Accidentaly I needed to give it a good feel up as I was adjusting my own. He had a respectful size. We were roughly the same size. But flaccid, his was bigger no doubt, and I felt surprised to feel something as big can sway away of man's body. When dicks became involved, we could't speak. We felt ashamed again because it was "so gay". Like not speaking about it meant it wasn't happening. It's silly, but really, with all the fucking, I still didn't feel like it was gay, even at that point. It is only now that I can really admit, there was nothing straight about it. No imagining a pussy, no talking about fucking our exes, just getting lost in feeling each other up. It is crazy, unreal even, but I didn't feel that what we've been doing was gay then. It was fooling around, it was nothing. Never, not once I called it in my thoughts an actual gay act. And we were reapeatedly having man on man anal sex. There is pretty much nothing more gay than that. Maybe except stuff like attending boysband concerts there's nothing more gay, than male anal sex. Somehow in my hand, and I'm sure in his head too, we did nothing gay at all.
So not speaking, just laying with our mouths on each other's necks, we were wiggling our bodies and grinding our jammed cocks, because yeah maybe it was so gay but so hot as well. I felt it with all my body and I found it to be a worthy sex-alternative.
Than we stood up, He came in me, and I came in him. Then we took a little trip to the toilet to wash our rods in the sink, and went to sleep.
 

ChrisIsThor

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It was supposed to go with the previous one.


One time, after sex, we remained laying on one bed. My foot was touching his foot, and had my hand wrapped around him. I tried not to move, because It would put attention on the kinky position we're at, and needlesly becausem we already got off. So I sort of cuddled him but not moving. All I was thinking, was that this time I didn't have enough of it. It was so comfy to get some of that closeness, It made me stay horny. It was our only time in weeks, It was only as satisfying as a 3 minute intercourse can be, and I knew, that another period of training starts the following day, so it will be maybe weeks before we can have sex again. So I kept thinking about sex and shortly I was ready for another round. He fell asleep, which was dangerous, because we shouldn't be seen laying on the same bed. I woke him up and he walked to his own bed. But then I stood up and approached him, and I declared my wish to fuck him one more time. We was reluctant, but obedient, he stood up and pulled down his underpants. But I told him to kneel on the floor, since it was the only way that could work for me without furniture squeaking.
For the first time, I did it with him the way I usually did it with women doggystyle. I fucked him for a long time, all sweaty. I was changing tempo. I would stay still inside for a while to rest, pressed against him so I got the most of the feeling of joined bodies, I would feel little spasms on the tips of my fingers, which marked my pulse on the places where I was grasping him tightly, and then I would continue. He asked if I'm close quite a few times. He asked for a break once or twice. I asked him to bear it and he did. He did a lot to keep me happy. A full-fledged, long sex, long orgasm. Another forgotten feeling of tiredness and falling asleep with the post-orgasmic feeling still present on my cock. And yes, on another occasion he did it to me, and I had to learn how to bear it, because he was rough.

Another time, he laid down on me. I was already on my bed, shades shut, waiting for him to come from the bathroom, so we can fuck before sleep. When he entered the room, he just said "Don't get up".
He got up on the bed slowly, first one hand, then the other. I guessed maybe he's in a mood for a foreplay, I should tell him not to waste time. But then whatever, he'll be done with the silly game soon so I just decided to wait it out.
He laid one of his knees on the other side of me, and then slowly moved forward, bending his arms which he supported on. I was against the waste of time but as he was descending and I knew soon I will feel his body on me I got a little excited. He swoop his chest on my chest, it was electric and made me close my eyes to feel the best of it. I felt him heavily on me and I thought that was it, but he was still supporting himself. When he pushed all his weight on me, I couldn't believe how heavy a man's body can be. I was anviled to the bed, and who didn't live it, will not understand, a fairly muscular body of a man is really, and I mean, really heavy when you have it on you. My first thought was that he is wasting our prescious sex-time, but then it felt so good and I knew it was worth it. It was like the world disappeared (and not of me suffocating). Feeling of safety, warmth, intimacy, all I ever tried to get from those hookups. I hugged him forcefully in this position, and that was it - our highest point of giving away intimacy and closeness. In just a minute It got weird. He was also probably struck with doubts like what the hell are we dong. So we joked a little to break the tension.
- Is that good for your back you're sure? - he asked
- You know I can push you away aaany time I wan't.
- The hell you can with that flat chest of yours.
I gave him a little punch on his arm.
But moving my arm made me feel I had a boner strongly pressing against his body, and needed to force my hand between us, to rotate my cock so it wouldn't break. And we could no longer speak to each other. It was also one of just a few situations in which I actually, unintenionally touched his dick through his underpants. Accidentaly I needed to give it a good feel up as I was adjusting my own. He had a respectful size. We were roughly the same size. But flaccid, his was bigger no doubt, and I felt surprised to feel something as big can sway away of man's body. When dicks became involved, we could't speak. We felt ashamed again because it was "so gay". Like not speaking about it meant it wasn't happening. It's silly, but really, with all the fucking, I still didn't feel like it was gay, even at that point. It is only now that I can really admit, there was nothing straight about it. No imagining a pussy, no talking about fucking our exes, just getting lost in feeling each other up. It is crazy, unreal even, but I didn't feel that what we've been doing was gay then. It was fooling around, it was nothing. Never, not once I called it in my thoughts an actual gay act. And we were reapeatedly having man on man anal sex. There is pretty much nothing more gay than that. Maybe except stuff like attending boysband concerts there's nothing more gay, than male anal sex. Somehow in my hand, and I'm sure in his head too, we did nothing gay at all.
So not speaking, just laying with our mouths on each other's necks, we were wiggling our bodies and grinding our jammed cocks, because yeah maybe it was so gay but so hot as well. I felt it with all my body and I found it to be a worthy sex-alternative.
Than we stood up, He came in me, and I came in him. Then we took a little trip to the toilet to wash our rods in the sink, and went to sleep.
Great story I hope there's more to come. Really really invested I hope we get a scene of them confessing their feelings for each other
 

talkpeace

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Doing stuff like that, required time. But I don't regret any second spend under him or on him. And it was just one step to doing it in bed, wich we finally did.

For me it was a classic position and it happened for practical reasons. How it was decided is not a fascinating story. It was also his turn.
- Let's do it in bed. - he suggested.
- Ok.
So being doggystyled brought me another kind of confusion. That first time really messed with my head because when other guy climbs on you, you really get the feeling of being dominated into submission. He put his weight on me and pressed me to the bed. There was no room for me to adjust or flee. Honestly I didn't like it, but just that one first time. I would probably stop it but we didn't really manage to do it. He just got inside for a few moments but we had troubles maintaining the height and angle, it was not convenient for him neither. I had to undress completely and it was stressing me out. It was not a day warm enough to be sleeping without a t-shirt. But I took mine off because I wanted to. And then I also had to take my shorts off. If someone was coming, it would take some acrobations to get back to looking innocent. So I just pulled my shorts and underpants back on one leg, sank lower and laid down completely on my belly (being a little pushed into that position by him, let's admit it). Then him pinning me down to the bed with his dick in my ass was also unpleasant at first, and painful, but when he was all inside, he took his t-shirt off and he fell completely on me with his entire body.
And that positon was almost a relaxing one to me, a way to finally learn to like it. A lot of body contact, which was my notorious need at that point, and he provided it. He was fairly slow so the bed wouldn't squeak. It stinged but in that position he couldn't pull out much, so it was short moves in and out, just a little discomfort, because somehow he was still laying on me, and only his hands were grabbing the sides of my ass. With the friction agains the bed sheets, for a moment I felt I might even get a boner. But he came inside before it happened. As he came, he was breathing heavily and grunting, and he stayed inside for a few seconds afterwards, so I know he liked it a lot. But he didn't say a word, we were doing another kind of crazy, so the taboo was back.
So - for me a classic position. I couldn't do it the same way as he did it to me. We didn't want his filthy cock swirling on the bed. So he laid on his back. And it's not like we talked about it and settled how to go on. It's simply how he laid down. So that's how I fucked him.

And I absolutely loved it fucking him when he was on his back. I had to be very slow, so it was about the ceaseless going inside and out of him for like forever. When I started slowly I pushed inside with every breath, and out with every time I inhaled. And it was so very pleasing, that I really could't believe it. I almost moaned (which was a taboo). Inside my head I was shocked how pleasurable that feeling can be, and I only fucked him slightly faster and faster, because with that my pleasure I didn't want to come soon. I started to have those little spasms on my legs and belly, like I do on the best nights of sex. I prolonged it as much as was within reason. He kept looking at me not with pain on his face, not with pleasure, I would say with interest. Like he was considering, calculating. And in the middle of it he started touching my body and it was almost too much. Because he already knew where and how I like it. There was no way of prolonging it more. I was afraid to stop for a break, so that magic bliss would have no chance to slip away. I just had his hips gripped strongly. I closed my eyes and got overwhelemed by that pleasure. With every push I felt like the next stroke wil make me cum, but with the slow movements, the orgasm just announced itself and snuck away with me practically feeling how It would feel. When I finally reached it with three faster strokes, I've ejaculated the shit out of me. It was so, endlesslly good and gratifying. I felt like with the stream of cum all my troubles go away. It was too hard not to moan, probably a quiet one slipped away. There was so much cum flowing outside of me, and with every squirt I pushed inside every centimeter of my dick to let the pleasure hit me to the fullest. My insides went into a long spasm so, so gratifying, it was unbelievable. I don't remember ever cumming so much before.

A moment later, I was still inside him, eyes still closed, and I still felt some of the pleasure going on. Then I very slowly pulled my penis out of him.
I opened my eyes and I saw he already stood up. He was looking at me like waiting for an answer. And only then I processed that he had said something. I didn't hear it completely, like I wasn't there. My mind was clear and white, empty. Only as I focused it started to go back. Something starting with Wow. It took me a few seconds to find the words because they accually reached my head, and where there something waiting for concious mind to reboot and hear them.
"Wow, that must have felt good." That's what he said. That doesn't necessarily need an answer. But he clearly wanted to hear something from me. I smiled at him still kneeling down on the bed.
- You have no idea.
He just smiled back. - Are you going to the bathroom?
- I'll be right there.

That one, was actually the moment of my life that I actually sat down to write about at the beginning, a few years ago. So whoever wished for a quick fuck story, there you are, that whole one paragraph. Everything around is just a later addition. It was my apogee of sexual pleasure, regardless of the genders. And it happaned out of nothing. Adult decision "To do it" randomly. With no extra conditons, as usual, with no foreplay, no dinner, no wine, no seduction, in a dingy beedroom/storage room. All my body switched into a cosmic pleasure mode for a moment, out of routine exchange of sexual favors. I tried to recreate that moment, with Litwin and with women, and I were close a few times, I maybe even reached it, but since it's been years my body felt it differently. How can men be ashamed of living through something that felt so good? Any talks about "best time ever" are awkward now, because I know, and deep inside always knew, it was that time when I had gay sex with Litwin, and I keep it a secret. With no idea why it was so extraordinarily pleasurable.

To be honest I didn't really like laying on my back while he fucked me. I had my legs in the air with little possibility to adjust myself, so he would just push his dick completely inside. His way was to keep his penis almost entirely inside, and with just a shallow movements wiggle it inside and outside. It was painful, but thankfuly, he had to go slow. Mostly I focused on not moaning out of pain, because even if it hurt, moaning like a bitch would be "too gay" again. If we tried it faster the bed would bounce and make a lot of noise. Maybe I had no physical pleasure but when he came he was almost floating, and I could see it on his face. I was happy for him. The pleasure somehow transfered, despite the pain. I might have felt something for him.

I allowed it to look like we fucked all the time and made it the best sex possible, but in reality, it wasn't like this. I just wrote in detail the raciest moments, those that carried some emotions and those I value today. Those only happened on our sleepoffs spent together, which came more and more sparsely. I need to remind, our every time was weeks apart, se when we did it, we had a strong urge to cum. We did it once a week if we were lucky. Maybe there were a few weeks, in which we managed to do it twice. There was one time, when we had opportunity just the next day. We met and started talking, at some point a few seconds of silence kicked in. We looked at each other with struggling thoughts.
- "No" - I said.
- "I know. I don't wan't to. It's just.."
- "I know. I know. I don't wan't to neither."
- "I didn't say I want".
And that was the end of the topic. And never again we ever considered doing it that frequently. Except the time when we actually did it multiple times on the same sitting. I will probably get to it.

So most of those times, romaticism was completely gone. The standard remained the same as it was at the start. Quick meet in a secluded space, pants down, dick up and fuck here and now. Those were not the moments to remember. It's actually made me feel a little degraded every time. Having a cock pushed forcefully inside my ass. Having been painfully ejaculated in. Shitting out semen. You would feel used and tainted too. Well maybe not used, it was a trade. But tehere is nothing to cherish about most of our times.

This is how it looked like until our last time while still in the unit together. We fucked like gays, pleasuring ourselves as hard as possible, so it can suffice for the next pause. Or we just came inside each other instantly, still happy to make the time and find a spot. Once a civilian, I had never, ever imagined I would have done any of things even resembling those, that I did with Litwin. I would bet my hand as a young man, that I won't do anything with another man. A slight homophobe even. But with him, I started to look forward to those moments when my hips met his ass, when the frustration built up. In the end, It really made the army brighter. Of course, later it got even harder to find time, since our duties were more often in completely different places. Finally he got his second contract, and furthermore, a private room near the premise. It may sound like a blessing but it wasn't. At the same time, I was waiting to be moved to a city, because I was accepted into a sort of military academy. Because of it, instead of my second contract I received a prolongation of my previous one, just for the two months before I leave. There was no way they would grant a private room to a soldier stuck in-between like me. Litwin's time at that point was strictly divided into on-duty and off-duty time, which he wasn't accounted for. My free time, however, was scattered throughout the day, just as before. And his room was like a 20-minute walk away. I could go there freely in my free time, but still, as I was living in the barracks, people would ID me and ask questions when I tried to leave. We did it mainly somewhere in the unit or in the cubicle, but rarely. Our little hookups started to end naturally. I don't think we ever had another sleepoff from the time when he had got his second contract. Once in a while, I would go to his room, but it wasn't that private afterall. Thin walls, small space, people's apartments around. We had to sneak inside unnoticed, because two men in uniform locking themselves inside for half an hour, and then walking out sober yet satisfied - that would raise suspicion. I was relieved that he still wanted to do it at all. He often took some trips to the village nearby or the city not far away with other guys. He obviously fucked some girls on occasion, but I woudn't hear about it from him. That was no longer our area of talking. Noone expressed it clearly, but we met to fuck each other, out of lust for each other.
 

talkpeace

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Our friendship was ok. Since we had less and less time toghether, when we met we had a lot to talk about. We fucked less, but from that point, we never complained. I never complained to myself. Like I was glad I was moving on, and that complicated, risky arrangement is naturally beckoming impossible to have.

On the night before I left before my transiton I was off duty. We managed to meet in his room and had a goodbye sex. I did it for a long time, maybe to leave a mark in my memory, and he fucked me beastly. He just wouldn't stop and he completely wore me out. But in the end, it wasn't as different. There was no sad goodbye, no despair, no conclusion, no bitching around about me leaving. We just had sex. And talked. We really wished to stay in touch. On the next day, when I was on my way to my parents for my break, I still felt my asshole aching, and then I had a funny feeling there for a day.

Maybe a week later, we spoke on the phone. Just a few minutes of innocent friend-talk, but surprisingly short one. That was before I moved to the school.

Another week later we spoke again, for like 1 hour. I told him everything about the training I'd have, I told him about physical tests which he ridiculed as being pathetic, he told me what's been going on with him. I felt strange because I never had phonecalls that long. And we reapated it a few times later. He would try to make it shorter, because his sittings with a phone didn't go unnoticed, and people made fun of him saying he's calling me, "his girlfriend" because he missed me. Noone really believed there was something going on with us, it was just a repeated joke, but it bothered him. Our talks were more and more rare. As time passed, suddenly it's been months since we spoke, and later when I tried to call him, his number was unavailable. He lost or changed his number. Either way, we have already lost contact regardless of that fact.

So it's been 3 years with no contact. I was in one of the major cities for two weeks. I learned that he's spending 6 months on duty in the same city from our mutual friends who were there. I got his new number, and together with those friends we met for a couple of beers.

And yes, afterwards I went with Litwin to his rooms, and yes, we fucked even more beastly than the old times. He had a girfriend and I had a girlfriend but they were far away. It took us a lot of talking before we did the deed. A lot of innocent talking before in a moment of silence, I asked if he did it with other men. I was so embarassed of asking. We were not drunk but just a little warmed up. The thought of trying that topic was in my head for a while. His eyes were sometime skipping my face like he too was fighting some troubling thoughts. But a moment of silence happened, there were a few seconds in which no conversation occupied us, and the thought came back. So I decided to be the brave one.
- So. Did you ever do it with another man?
He smiled the moment I started talking because he knew what the question will be about.
- No, never.
And then, after another moment of silence, he said
- But we can go to the bedroom and jerk off like we used to.
He said it, picked up the bottle, finished the last two sips of beer and hit the bottle back on the table with a sound. Like marking it's been already settled that's what we were going to do.

"Jerk off like we used to", which doesn't remotely cover even the stuff we did at the beginning, really meant to mercilessly fuck until our dicks go unwilling to stay hard. We went to the bedroom and that one single time, we really meant buissiness. He took his shirt off and we behave like getting ready for a football game.
- You're in shape - I made a comment because he really bulked up.
- How about you? - he started touching my half-unbuttoned chest as I was taking my shirt off.
- So? What do you think?
- Almost as I remember it - he answered smiling. - Come on lets take it off.
And he meant all of our clothes.
He kept touching my chest and body, sometimes with fairly strong grips, until he finally put his face on my shoulder and kept inhaling me. I wrapped my hands around him and slowly my cock went hard. My chest might have been as he remembered, but he definitely was a lot bigger. He got much muscle and an sportsman-like athletic posture. As this now big man was grunting, I knew this will be rough. But that's ok, I intened to be rough also. The thought made me even more hard.

Sex was amazing. Every time I came harder than the previous. First one was a quickie. We didn't hold back, like it was decided we'd do it again the same night. Then it was more rough, but stil I enjoyed just being involved in the act when I was the bottom. Three times each we did it. And would do it fourth. But it got late. I was laying on him. His bulked up chest felt great, but I must say, different. I was grinding my body on him, he was smiling and touching me.
- I don't think I'm getting hard again. - I said finally
- I know - he answered.
I lifted my body a little to look in between us.
- You're not getting hard neither".
- Yeah, I know - he said, still touching me.
- I think I need to leave soon. It's late.
- I know. - he said again, and still didn't stop.

There was no way of meeting up until the end of my stay. That was the last time we ever had sex.


It's probably been another 3 years before I received a wedding invitation, on my parents address. We (me and my at the time girfriend, now-wife) couldn't go for important reasons. Perhaps that was the reason for Litwin and his wife not to come to our wedding, which we held next year. Some of friends from the military came, however, and I learned what was going on with Litwin and that basically he was fine and happy, and I was pleased. Then years passed, and the memories of what we did faded. Never forgotten, but remained un-acknowledged.

The last time I saw him, was a few years ago. He had a ring on his finger and a baby on it's way. I had a ring on my finger and plans for a baby. That was more or less what we talked about. We were wearing uniforms and met on an official event. We didn't even exchange suggestive looks. I was so glad to meet him, but really I had no sexual thoughts. We exchanged phone numbers, which none of us ever used. We lost contact (didn't resume contact to be precise). But maybe that meeting made slowly rethink what we did years before.

Today I wonder, If I loved that man. I cannot decide it. The parting was surprisingly easy for me, like breaking the patch. Moving to the academy, new excitements, some new duties, a lot of free time, women. I didn't look back. For sure I had some strong feelings for him. It can't be all categorized as friends helping each other out or just relieving themselves. When I asked him about his health, I genuinly was worried if everything was ok. If he was tired, I really wanted him to sleep off so we only played for a moment to have a better sleep. When he found out that his father died, I hugged him, I was angry and I felt the pain, like I lost someone too. Maybe deep friendship, maybe more.

I know, however, that despite all the things that I did with another man, it is hard for me to call myself gay I had one heated romance and been living happily with my wife for years later. I never had any kind of sexual experience with another man. Sometimes, when I wonder why I did it, do I like men, I look around and I know for sure, that I don't in general. Gay porn doesn't excite me at all. I have had no urge to seek contact with other men. I am still a man of the military, I see men around all the time, dressed and otherwise, it does nothing to me. All of my gay-like experience, since I had sex with Litwin for the last time, is a couple of moist erections writing this text. Shall occasion arise, in which I can hook up with the man again, old that we get, I maybe will take it, but I seriously doubt it will ever happen. I am a satisfied man, and so I hear is he, and I don't need to mix up my life this way. What I got out of it, is that I only years later comprehended, what I have done, how it influenced me and that it was all a huge deal. It may seem in this story that I somehow missed him or felt bad about not seeing him after all of it happened - it's not the case. I felt nothing. It was just something that I'd once been doing with him, and then I stopped. I barely thought about it and even neglected that as being a part of my life. It's not like I forgot it, but more like set all those memories aside. Then when I collected them, situation after situation, It struck me clearly one day, that I had feelings for another man and I had a complete, all-inclusive gay romance, stuffed another man's ass and been fucked by him.

I became more alert these days. I sence all kinds of homophobes, intolerance, fun-making from a kilometer, and bullies being too funny with their stupid jokes have a really hard time serving under my command.

And all the text above, it's not fresh, recalculating the dates, I believe It's been developed for three years now. It started as a short story about me having sex. It felt nice putting it off my chest. But I knew I could never share it. So I wrote it again, added some details, made a long intro, kept rethinking what I did and why. It got surprisingly long. I updated my knowledge about current state of thinking about sexual orientation. I still find the modern research to be incomplete. On ocassions I would re-read the text, add some details. Or decide that it is too detailed, change something, make up some fake additions to blur it, it was stored in secret, passwored protected, but It stayed alive. I then decided to finally put it "somewhere" so I deleted parts that I thought was too boring for an internet story. But now I feel ready to upload. I never meant it to be my secret journal. I meant to share it. When I started, at first I wanted it to be answered. I probably just wanted to be reasurred that I'm not crazy and what I did was normal. Now I don't even care about that. I just adjusted and changed it in some bits, sometimes twisted sometimes spiced up some things. The core remais. So it can be uploaded, and my time spent writing it down is not completely wasted. It's been years. Nobody really cares. I don't care.

Some people commented. Probably it disappointed some people. It was not supposed to be posted in parts. But the title said it all - I had sex with a man in the army. I no longer do.
 

Jziggs83

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Thanks for sharing man! That session you had before you got married sounds amazing! Probably was a nice way to get all that pent up passion out of your system after being restrained by what felt taboo. I think it's totally ok to be attracted to one guy, but not guys in general. I'm attracted to one girl, but not girls in general
 

ChrisIsThor

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Our friendship was ok. Since we had less and less time toghether, when we met we had a lot to talk about. We fucked less, but from that point, we never complained. I never complained to myself. Like I was glad I was moving on, and that complicated, risky arrangement is naturally beckoming impossible to have.

On the night before I left before my transiton I was off duty. We managed to meet in his room and had a goodbye sex. I did it for a long time, maybe to leave a mark in my memory, and he fucked me beastly. He just wouldn't stop and he completely wore me out. But in the end, it wasn't as different. There was no sad goodbye, no despair, no conclusion, no bitching around about me leaving. We just had sex. And talked. We really wished to stay in touch. On the next day, when I was on my way to my parents for my break, I still felt my asshole aching, and then I had a funny feeling there for a day.

Maybe a week later, we spoke on the phone. Just a few minutes of innocent friend-talk, but surprisingly short one. That was before I moved to the school.

Another week later we spoke again, for like 1 hour. I told him everything about the training I'd have, I told him about physical tests which he ridiculed as being pathetic, he told me what's been going on with him. I felt strange because I never had phonecalls that long. And we reapated it a few times later. He would try to make it shorter, because his sittings with a phone didn't go unnoticed, and people made fun of him saying he's calling me, "his girlfriend" because he missed me. Noone really believed there was something going on with us, it was just a repeated joke, but it bothered him. Our talks were more and more rare. As time passed, suddenly it's been months since we spoke, and later when I tried to call him, his number was unavailable. He lost or changed his number. Either way, we have already lost contact regardless of that fact.

So it's been 3 years with no contact. I was in one of the major cities for two weeks. I learned that he's spending 6 months on duty in the same city from our mutual friends who were there. I got his new number, and together with those friends we met for a couple of beers.

And yes, afterwards I went with Litwin to his rooms, and yes, we fucked even more beastly than the old times. He had a girfriend and I had a girlfriend but they were far away. It took us a lot of talking before we did the deed. A lot of innocent talking before in a moment of silence, I asked if he did it with other men. I was so embarassed of asking. We were not drunk but just a little warmed up. The thought of trying that topic was in my head for a while. His eyes were sometime skipping my face like he too was fighting some troubling thoughts. But a moment of silence happened, there were a few seconds in which no conversation occupied us, and the thought came back. So I decided to be the brave one.
- So. Did you ever do it with another man?
He smiled the moment I started talking because he knew what the question will be about.
- No, never.
And then, after another moment of silence, he said
- But we can go to the bedroom and jerk off like we used to.
He said it, picked up the bottle, finished the last two sips of beer and hit the bottle back on the table with a sound. Like marking it's been already settled that's what we were going to do.

"Jerk off like we used to", which doesn't remotely cover even the stuff we did at the beginning, really meant to mercilessly fuck until our dicks go unwilling to stay hard. We went to the bedroom and that one single time, we really meant buissiness. He took his shirt off and we behave like getting ready for a football game.
- You're in shape - I made a comment because he really bulked up.
- How about you? - he started touching my half-unbuttoned chest as I was taking my shirt off.
- So? What do you think?
- Almost as I remember it - he answered smiling. - Come on lets take it off.
And he meant all of our clothes.
He kept touching my chest and body, sometimes with fairly strong grips, until he finally put his face on my shoulder and kept inhaling me. I wrapped my hands around him and slowly my cock went hard. My chest might have been as he remembered, but he definitely was a lot bigger. He got much muscle and an sportsman-like athletic posture. As this now big man was grunting, I knew this will be rough. But that's ok, I intened to be rough also. The thought made me even more hard.

Sex was amazing. Every time I came harder than the previous. First one was a quickie. We didn't hold back, like it was decided we'd do it again the same night. Then it was more rough, but stil I enjoyed just being involved in the act when I was the bottom. Three times each we did it. And would do it fourth. But it got late. I was laying on him. His bulked up chest felt great, but I must say, different. I was grinding my body on him, he was smiling and touching me.
- I don't think I'm getting hard again. - I said finally
- I know - he answered.
I lifted my body a little to look in between us.
- You're not getting hard neither".
- Yeah, I know - he said, still touching me.
- I think I need to leave soon. It's late.
- I know. - he said again, and still didn't stop.

There was no way of meeting up until the end of my stay. That was the last time we ever had sex.


It's probably been another 3 years before I received a wedding invitation, on my parents address. We (me and my at the time girfriend, now-wife) couldn't go for important reasons. Perhaps that was the reason for Litwin and his wife not to come to our wedding, which we held next year. Some of friends from the military came, however, and I learned what was going on with Litwin and that basically he was fine and happy, and I was pleased. Then years passed, and the memories of what we did faded. Never forgotten, but remained un-acknowledged.

The last time I saw him, was a few years ago. He had a ring on his finger and a baby on it's way. I had a ring on my finger and plans for a baby. That was more or less what we talked about. We were wearing uniforms and met on an official event. We didn't even exchange suggestive looks. I was so glad to meet him, but really I had no sexual thoughts. We exchanged phone numbers, which none of us ever used. We lost contact (didn't resume contact to be precise). But maybe that meeting made slowly rethink what we did years before.

Today I wonder, If I loved that man. I cannot decide it. The parting was surprisingly easy for me, like breaking the patch. Moving to the academy, new excitements, some new duties, a lot of free time, women. I didn't look back. For sure I had some strong feelings for him. It can't be all categorized as friends helping each other out or just relieving themselves. When I asked him about his health, I genuinly was worried if everything was ok. If he was tired, I really wanted him to sleep off so we only played for a moment to have a better sleep. When he found out that his father died, I hugged him, I was angry and I felt the pain, like I lost someone too. Maybe deep friendship, maybe more.

I know, however, that despite all the things that I did with another man, it is hard for me to call myself gay I had one heated romance and been living happily with my wife for years later. I never had any kind of sexual experience with another man. Sometimes, when I wonder why I did it, do I like men, I look around and I know for sure, that I don't in general. Gay porn doesn't excite me at all. I have had no urge to seek contact with other men. I am still a man of the military, I see men around all the time, dressed and otherwise, it does nothing to me. All of my gay-like experience, since I had sex with Litwin for the last time, is a couple of moist erections writing this text. Shall occasion arise, in which I can hook up with the man again, old that we get, I maybe will take it, but I seriously doubt it will ever happen. I am a satisfied man, and so I hear is he, and I don't need to mix up my life this way. What I got out of it, is that I only years later comprehended, what I have done, how it influenced me and that it was all a huge deal. It may seem in this story that I somehow missed him or felt bad about not seeing him after all of it happened - it's not the case. I felt nothing. It was just something that I'd once been doing with him, and then I stopped. I barely thought about it and even neglected that as being a part of my life. It's not like I forgot it, but more like set all those memories aside. Then when I collected them, situation after situation, It struck me clearly one day, that I had feelings for another man and I had a complete, all-inclusive gay romance, stuffed another man's ass and been fucked by him.

I became more alert these days. I sence all kinds of homophobes, intolerance, fun-making from a kilometer, and bullies being too funny with their stupid jokes have a really hard time serving under my command.

And all the text above, it's not fresh, recalculating the dates, I believe It's been developed for three years now. It started as a short story about me having sex. It felt nice putting it off my chest. But I knew I could never share it. So I wrote it again, added some details, made a long intro, kept rethinking what I did and why. It got surprisingly long. I updated my knowledge about current state of thinking about sexual orientation. I still find the modern research to be incomplete. On ocassions I would re-read the text, add some details. Or decide that it is too detailed, change something, make up some fake additions to blur it, it was stored in secret, passwored protected, but It stayed alive. I then decided to finally put it "somewhere" so I deleted parts that I thought was too boring for an internet story. But now I feel ready to upload. I never meant it to be my secret journal. I meant to share it. When I started, at first I wanted it to be answered. I probably just wanted to be reasurred that I'm not crazy and what I did was normal. Now I don't even care about that. I just adjusted and changed it in some bits, sometimes twisted sometimes spiced up some things. The core remais. So it can be uploaded, and my time spent writing it down is not completely wasted. It's been years. Nobody really cares. I don't care.

Some people commented. Probably it disappointed some people. It was not supposed to be posted in parts. But the title said it all - I had sex with a man in the army. I no longer do.
Damn omfg that was actually SO SAD? I was expecting them to get together but they went on their seperate ways instead. Felt like I just got stabbed
 

Jziggs83

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Damn omfg that was actually SO SAD? I was expecting them to get together but they went on their seperate ways instead. Felt like I just got stabbed
Well, it was a true story, haha! I thought it was a sweet ending though.

Talk peace, I wish you and Lot win had gotten a chance to express your feelings for each other. Maybe you will someday. Don't keep it in forever though. I know back then you were really afraid of being perceived as gay, but even good friends have to say what they're feeling sometime or talk about how they appreciate each other
 

PurrBerry

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Our friendship was ok. Since we had less and less time toghether, when we met we had a lot to talk about. We fucked less, but from that point, we never complained. I never complained to myself. Like I was glad I was moving on, and that complicated, risky arrangement is naturally beckoming impossible to have.

On the night before I left before my transiton I was off duty. We managed to meet in his room and had a goodbye sex. I did it for a long time, maybe to leave a mark in my memory, and he fucked me beastly. He just wouldn't stop and he completely wore me out. But in the end, it wasn't as different. There was no sad goodbye, no despair, no conclusion, no bitching around about me leaving. We just had sex. And talked. We really wished to stay in touch. On the next day, when I was on my way to my parents for my break, I still felt my asshole aching, and then I had a funny feeling there for a day.

Maybe a week later, we spoke on the phone. Just a few minutes of innocent friend-talk, but surprisingly short one. That was before I moved to the school.

Another week later we spoke again, for like 1 hour. I told him everything about the training I'd have, I told him about physical tests which he ridiculed as being pathetic, he told me what's been going on with him. I felt strange because I never had phonecalls that long. And we reapated it a few times later. He would try to make it shorter, because his sittings with a phone didn't go unnoticed, and people made fun of him saying he's calling me, "his girlfriend" because he missed me. Noone really believed there was something going on with us, it was just a repeated joke, but it bothered him. Our talks were more and more rare. As time passed, suddenly it's been months since we spoke, and later when I tried to call him, his number was unavailable. He lost or changed his number. Either way, we have already lost contact regardless of that fact.

So it's been 3 years with no contact. I was in one of the major cities for two weeks. I learned that he's spending 6 months on duty in the same city from our mutual friends who were there. I got his new number, and together with those friends we met for a couple of beers.

And yes, afterwards I went with Litwin to his rooms, and yes, we fucked even more beastly than the old times. He had a girfriend and I had a girlfriend but they were far away. It took us a lot of talking before we did the deed. A lot of innocent talking before in a moment of silence, I asked if he did it with other men. I was so embarassed of asking. We were not drunk but just a little warmed up. The thought of trying that topic was in my head for a while. His eyes were sometime skipping my face like he too was fighting some troubling thoughts. But a moment of silence happened, there were a few seconds in which no conversation occupied us, and the thought came back. So I decided to be the brave one.
- So. Did you ever do it with another man?
He smiled the moment I started talking because he knew what the question will be about.
- No, never.
And then, after another moment of silence, he said
- But we can go to the bedroom and jerk off like we used to.
He said it, picked up the bottle, finished the last two sips of beer and hit the bottle back on the table with a sound. Like marking it's been already settled that's what we were going to do.

"Jerk off like we used to", which doesn't remotely cover even the stuff we did at the beginning, really meant to mercilessly fuck until our dicks go unwilling to stay hard. We went to the bedroom and that one single time, we really meant buissiness. He took his shirt off and we behave like getting ready for a football game.
- You're in shape - I made a comment because he really bulked up.
- How about you? - he started touching my half-unbuttoned chest as I was taking my shirt off.
- So? What do you think?
- Almost as I remember it - he answered smiling. - Come on lets take it off.
And he meant all of our clothes.
He kept touching my chest and body, sometimes with fairly strong grips, until he finally put his face on my shoulder and kept inhaling me. I wrapped my hands around him and slowly my cock went hard. My chest might have been as he remembered, but he definitely was a lot bigger. He got much muscle and an sportsman-like athletic posture. As this now big man was grunting, I knew this will be rough. But that's ok, I intened to be rough also. The thought made me even more hard.

Sex was amazing. Every time I came harder than the previous. First one was a quickie. We didn't hold back, like it was decided we'd do it again the same night. Then it was more rough, but stil I enjoyed just being involved in the act when I was the bottom. Three times each we did it. And would do it fourth. But it got late. I was laying on him. His bulked up chest felt great, but I must say, different. I was grinding my body on him, he was smiling and touching me.
- I don't think I'm getting hard again. - I said finally
- I know - he answered.
I lifted my body a little to look in between us.
- You're not getting hard neither".
- Yeah, I know - he said, still touching me.
- I think I need to leave soon. It's late.
- I know. - he said again, and still didn't stop.

There was no way of meeting up until the end of my stay. That was the last time we ever had sex.


It's probably been another 3 years before I received a wedding invitation, on my parents address. We (me and my at the time girfriend, now-wife) couldn't go for important reasons. Perhaps that was the reason for Litwin and his wife not to come to our wedding, which we held next year. Some of friends from the military came, however, and I learned what was going on with Litwin and that basically he was fine and happy, and I was pleased. Then years passed, and the memories of what we did faded. Never forgotten, but remained un-acknowledged.

The last time I saw him, was a few years ago. He had a ring on his finger and a baby on it's way. I had a ring on my finger and plans for a baby. That was more or less what we talked about. We were wearing uniforms and met on an official event. We didn't even exchange suggestive looks. I was so glad to meet him, but really I had no sexual thoughts. We exchanged phone numbers, which none of us ever used. We lost contact (didn't resume contact to be precise). But maybe that meeting made slowly rethink what we did years before.

Today I wonder, If I loved that man. I cannot decide it. The parting was surprisingly easy for me, like breaking the patch. Moving to the academy, new excitements, some new duties, a lot of free time, women. I didn't look back. For sure I had some strong feelings for him. It can't be all categorized as friends helping each other out or just relieving themselves. When I asked him about his health, I genuinly was worried if everything was ok. If he was tired, I really wanted him to sleep off so we only played for a moment to have a better sleep. When he found out that his father died, I hugged him, I was angry and I felt the pain, like I lost someone too. Maybe deep friendship, maybe more.

I know, however, that despite all the things that I did with another man, it is hard for me to call myself gay I had one heated romance and been living happily with my wife for years later. I never had any kind of sexual experience with another man. Sometimes, when I wonder why I did it, do I like men, I look around and I know for sure, that I don't in general. Gay porn doesn't excite me at all. I have had no urge to seek contact with other men. I am still a man of the military, I see men around all the time, dressed and otherwise, it does nothing to me. All of my gay-like experience, since I had sex with Litwin for the last time, is a couple of moist erections writing this text. Shall occasion arise, in which I can hook up with the man again, old that we get, I maybe will take it, but I seriously doubt it will ever happen. I am a satisfied man, and so I hear is he, and I don't need to mix up my life this way. What I got out of it, is that I only years later comprehended, what I have done, how it influenced me and that it was all a huge deal. It may seem in this story that I somehow missed him or felt bad about not seeing him after all of it happened - it's not the case. I felt nothing. It was just something that I'd once been doing with him, and then I stopped. I barely thought about it and even neglected that as being a part of my life. It's not like I forgot it, but more like set all those memories aside. Then when I collected them, situation after situation, It struck me clearly one day, that I had feelings for another man and I had a complete, all-inclusive gay romance, stuffed another man's ass and been fucked by him.

I became more alert these days. I sence all kinds of homophobes, intolerance, fun-making from a kilometer, and bullies being too funny with their stupid jokes have a really hard time serving under my command.

And all the text above, it's not fresh, recalculating the dates, I believe It's been developed for three years now. It started as a short story about me having sex. It felt nice putting it off my chest. But I knew I could never share it. So I wrote it again, added some details, made a long intro, kept rethinking what I did and why. It got surprisingly long. I updated my knowledge about current state of thinking about sexual orientation. I still find the modern research to be incomplete. On ocassions I would re-read the text, add some details. Or decide that it is too detailed, change something, make up some fake additions to blur it, it was stored in secret, passwored protected, but It stayed alive. I then decided to finally put it "somewhere" so I deleted parts that I thought was too boring for an internet story. But now I feel ready to upload. I never meant it to be my secret journal. I meant to share it. When I started, at first I wanted it to be answered. I probably just wanted to be reasurred that I'm not crazy and what I did was normal. Now I don't even care about that. I just adjusted and changed it in some bits, sometimes twisted sometimes spiced up some things. The core remais. So it can be uploaded, and my time spent writing it down is not completely wasted. It's been years. Nobody really cares. I don't care.

Some people commented. Probably it disappointed some people. It was not supposed to be posted in parts. But the title said it all - I had sex with a man in the army. I no longer do.
one of y’all ever blow each other?
 
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