≈ U.S.S. MIDWAY ≈
~ Welcome to the Seventies! ~
I looked around at the people crowding the banks of the Royal Navy base in Porthsmouth, my home town, and felt good. And… fashionable! When I was a kid, and then a teen, all we could wear was large baggy trousers and plain shirts, mostly with tie, but those were the 40’s and the 50’s, another era. Now it was 1976, and the guys around me wore colourful shirts, generously unbuttoned almost to their abs, showing off their juicy hairy chests, and deliciously tight trousers that highlighted their bulges. And though I was totally uninterested, I did notice and appreciated the girls wearing extremely short mini-skirt and mini-dresses that would’ve been outrageous just ten years ago. God bless the English fashion stylists!
I myself was quite proud of my look, with my lean chiseled body squeezed into a stretch polyester shirt and tight blue-jeans with flared legs. Too bad I almost had no body hair, but on the other hand I had long blond hair that pleasantly flowed in the warm sea breeze. And though I definitely was not a kid, at the age of 43, I felt alluring and confident.
I shouldn’t say it myself, but I was a sight, and I had accurately groomed myself, in order to look at my best while waiting on the port banks, in that glorious June morning.
I felt like I was going to a date, and in a way I was, but what I was waiting for was not a man (nor a girl, god forbids!), but… a ship. Specifically, the American aircraft carrier U.S.S. Midway, sent by the US Navy for a joint military exercise with our blessed Royal Navy.
Because, you know, I’ve always had the hots for the Navy, or should I say for the Navy men! Luckily, I lived in Portsmouth, site of the main military base of the Royal Navy, and in town pubs and bars were always crowded with hot sailormen. However, though I always knew I had a hidden streak of sluttiness in me, I was extremely cautious, or rather shy, in my relationships with men. I feasted my eyes over them, occasionally flirted with them, dreamt a lot, but I actually had very little sex.
After all, despite the huge sexual revolution occurred in the last years, in England homosexuality was tolerated only in minimal part, and public homosexual acts were still a crime. And I definitely didn’t want to go to jail…
Oh, but my dreams were hot! I fantasized about those seamen, madly horny for months of total abstinence, satisfying their irrepressible lust over me, with beastly ardor, spearing my ass with savage force… But I never tried to turn those fantasies in reality, because they were just sexual fantasies: what I really craved, in the deepest depths of my heart, was to find someone who would truly love me. I was terribly, disgustingly romantic!
But it was not easy for me to find my soulmate, because I still felt quite uncomfortable to openly show my being gay. Those were the Seventies, and being gay in England was no more a taboo, but public acts of “gross indecency” were still a crime, and I felt uneasy to reveal my true nature. So, for my “date” with the USS Midway I had chosen an understated attire, though hoping I looked good enough to raise some interested glances from the sailors who were about to come down from the huge ship that was entering the harbour.
~ Sweet memories ~
I looked at the impressive carrier slowly approaching the moorings and I couldn’t help thinking back at when, more than twenty years earlier, that very ship came to Portsmouth for the first time. It was 1953, I was 20, Queen Elizabeth was about to be crowned on June, 2nd, and the US Navy had sent the USS Midway to join the Naval Review to be held at Portsmouth. Nothing could’ve kept me away from the naval base! Besides, those were the only times when civilians were admitted to the base, to give to the foreigner crew a warm welcome.
It took almost two hours to the immense USS Midway to approach the mooring, maneuver and berth to the docks. And then, the crew begun descending to the banks, saluted by the cheers of the crowd. The last one to get off the ship was the Captain, an old white-bearded Admiral who stood for a moment on top of the stairs, saluted the crowd and then came down to be welcomed by the resident officers.
The young sailors didn’t know anyone here, but they were so far from home that were glad to receive such a warm welcome by us. Guys and girls gathered around the handsome Americans and many hands where shaken, and many kisses were given (men to women only, of course!), in a totally joyful atmosphere.
I didn’t feel to stay in the crowd and noisily chat with the newcomers: I would’ve gladly done that, but I was too shy and… well, I’ve never been that good at understanding if a guy was into men or girls, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.
I noticed one guy of the American crew who was standing aside, at short distance from me, looking away and giving me his back. It seemed like he was waiting for someone. I looked at him more attentively, and I thought he was totally gorgeous, in his white summer Navy uniform, his bicep bulging while holding a large travel bag. My eyes indulged on his tall figure, his muscular legs and firm ass, delightfully filling the tight white pants, his wide shoulders and his muscular arms almost ripping the short sleeves of his uniform.
He turned around and our eyes met, and I had to put an effort to keep breathing normally. “Handsome” was not enough to describe him: he was the most beautiful, sexy and fascinating man I had ever met. He had short raven-black hair, a tanned complexion, deep blue eyes and a clean-shaved square face. Despite the distance, I immediately noticed a long scar across his right cheek, but it only added to his raw, masculine allure. God, I love sailormen, and that was the sexiest of them all.
~ Troy Hunter, LTJG ~
I was scared, as I was too attracted by him to have a nice friendly conversation with him, and though I rationally wanted to go to him, my feet stayed planted on the ground. But then he turned away, apparently uncertain where to go, and I rushed to greet him. If I had to embarrass myself, then be it: I just couldn’t let him go without even knowing his name.
“Hi, are you waiting for someone?” – I told him when I got closer.
“No, I was just trying to figure out where to go…” – he replied with a deep voice – “This base is huge!”
“Come, I’ll walk you out! Oh, I’m Ayden” – I said friendly, shaking hands with him.
“Troy, Troy Hunter, nice to meet you” – he replied, flashing such a bright and honest smile that I was an inch from throwing myself into his arms.
“Are you in a rush?” – I asked – “We may have a beer and a bite at the pub, if you’re hungry”.
He accepted very gladly and we went to a pub nearby and sat on a wooden table. While sipping our beer and eating a shepherd’s pie, he told me he was 29, he was Lieutenant, junior grade, on the USS Midway, and that they had been in mission for more than a month, before harbouring at Portsmouth.
“More than a month…” – I interjected – “It must have been hard to stay alone, in the middle of the Ocean, for so long…”. My unbridled fantasy was already at work, drawing pictures of Troy barely able to restrain the overwhelming lust that such a prolonged sexual abstinence must have ignited deep inside him.
I listened to him, while frantically trying to understand whether I could stand a chance with him or not. I was nervous, I couldn’t look too long at his eyes without blushing, it was hot inside the pub and I was starting to sweat.
I was wearing a simple shirt with no tie, and instinctively undid two buttons, to find a bit of relief, and he nonchalantly reached out to me with his hand, saying “Nice shirt you have, I like it…”; and his fingers caressed the fabric, to then covertly move to my bare chest. “I like it”, he repeated, looking straight at me, and I opened my mouth, trying unsuccessfully to push some air through my vocal cords, until I uttered a feeble: “I like it, too…”
He recoiled and flashed again his dazzling smile, and I felt I could fall in love with him… if I didn’t already. Yes, he was gorgeous and sexy, and now I knew he was attracted by me, but above all he was cute, handsome, gentle… in a word, lovely! Troy had hit me deep, and I wished I could offer him my heart… though I was more than sure that the only part of me he wanted was my ass, to finally find relief for his unbearable sexual tension.
“I… suppose you’re s… staying aboard for the night, aren’t you?” – I stuttered, and he shook his head: “I could, and I probably will, as I have no other place to stay, but we’re on shore leave for a week, I don’t have to go back for the roll-call”.
“I have a spare room, you could stay at my place, I live alone” – I said in one breath, and my heart stopped until I heard him say: “How nice of you, thank you so much!”
~ Breathlessly hot ~
I showed him around the town until sunset, and then we went to a nice little restaurant in the harbor area. We had a wonderful dinner, and when the waiter brought us the bill, I took my wallet but he placed a hand over mine and said: “Let me”. I tried to protest, but he cut it off: “No way. Call it a sort of old-fashioned masculine pride, but I’m the one to pay the check at the restaurant”.
“Well… OK…” – I said, with a timid smile. Old-fashioned, maybe, but it was not pride, it was pure gallantry, and once again I thought that I could fall in love with Troy… if I didn’t already.
We walked to my house, and I invited him in. I showed him the guest room, but as soon as I laid my eyes on the sofa-bed I had there, I realized that I had not opened it since… didn’t even know when. For sure, it was almost unusable to sleep.
I took him in my bedroom and pointed to my double bed: “I can’t let you sleep on that sofa, you’ll stay here and I will sleep in the guest room”.
“It seems large enough for two…” – he replied, flashing his dazzling smile while removing his shirt. He didn’t even wait for an answer and added: “It’s breathlessly hot here, would you mind if I take off my pants?”
I was speechless! Throughout the entire day, Troy had been kind, loving, tender and gallant, but his sudden intention to take off his underwear and get naked painfully reminded me that he was a horny sailor with irrepressible urges to satisfy. And despite my obsession for sailors, I was not used to have sex on my first date… if ever that day together could be considered a date! But then I got it, and uttered a nervous giggle: “Oh, you mean your trousers! I thought… well… you know, here we call ‘pants’ the underwear…”
While I was blubbering my nervous nonsense, he had already taken off his t-shirt and his trousers; he shot at me an urchin glance and said: “Yeah, that too…”, and slowly pulled down his white cotton underpants.
I stared at him feeling my heart in my throat: nowadays it was easier to see naked men in the gay magazines that could be found in the backroom of some bookshops, but back in the Fifties I had seen only few “dirty pictures” secretly circulating between close friends; and my few occasional lovers had been nowhere near as hot as Troy…
If I weren’t hyperventilating, I would’ve creamed my shorts: he had a body to die for. Wide chest, covered with thick body air, chiseled abs, bulging biceps, narrow waist, strong legs, and a thick circumcised cock already at half-mast.
My mind was reeling, and… I didn’t know what to do. I dearly desired to hold him, feel his strong arm around me, and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. Sure enough, I craved to have sex with him, but in that moment I was painfully aware that I loved him, dearly and hopelessly, and all I wanted was to be loved back. Gee, I’m such a romantic guy, and Troy seemed coming out of my dreams. He was handsome, kind, gallant, sexy…
Troy’s deep voice snapped me out of my reveries: “Are you going to stay fully clothed?” – he said with a wink, while massaging his cock to a roaring erection with one hand and sliding the other one inside my shirt – “Come on, buddy, I bet you have a wonderful body under those baggy clothes, I want you so bad!”
Again, imagines of Troy, in the middle of the Ocean for months, without having enough privacy to ever find a little self-relief, flashed in my mind. I could almost feel his animalistic lust, his urgent need to fuck, and fuck hard!
I hastily stripped off, jumped on the bed on all fours, bent down with my face on the mattress and used my hands to spread my ass cheeks wide. I had a ticket for a wild ride, and though that was the least thing I dreamed to get from Troy, I was determined to give him what he wanted, what he needed. I relaxed my ass muscles and breathed hard, expecting to feel my ass fiercely speared any moment.
But Troy apparently was hesitating. “Oh, right” – I said, my face still pressed down on the pillow – “If you need some lube, it’s in the drawer over here”.
I pointed with my hand at the nightstand and got back in my initial position, shamelessly offering him my ass. But again, I heard no movements behind me, so I stood up on my knees and turned around, to see what could’ve ever kept the horny sailor from fucking me senselessly.
~ Making love ~
He was standing at the foot of the bed, looking at me with an uncomfortable gaze… and his cock was completely limp. I didn’t understand and looked at him puzzled.
“Buddy, I… Well, I didn’t think…” – he said in a low voice, then paused, took a breath and continued – “I’m sorry, Ayden, I just can’t do it this way. I… I thank you, but if you just wanted a rough quickie, I’m sorry I’m not the right man. I just can’t make love to you this way…”
“Make… love?” – I breathed, feeling such a great relief that my eyes became moist. “Love??”, I repeated, rejoicing the sound of the word I was resigned to never hear from him. “Oh, Troy… Troy, Troy!”
I jumped off the bed and rushed to him, threw my arms around his waist, as he was much taller than me, and placed my head on his massive chest. “I thought… I was sure you needed… Oh, I’m not like that, believe me, I feel so stupid!” – I whined into his chest trying to hide my blush. Then I raised my head and did what I had been dreaming to do the whole day: I closed my eyes and gave him a tender kiss, finally feeling his soft lips against mine. I felt his arms closing around me and his hand rising to the back of my head, and then I felt his lips open up and his sweet, strong tongue ravenously break into my mouth.
He kissed me with such a passion that made my head spinning. My hands roamed over his back, his shoulders, his buttocks, until I felt the unmistakable pressure of his turgid sex against my crotch.
My lips moved down, kissing his neck and his massive pecs, to then close around one of his nipples, while I caressed the other one with my fingers. I felt his body stiffen, while he held his breath, aroused and surprised by my tender ministrations. I had no rush, he wanted to make sweet love to me and I couldn’t be any happier, I wanted to worship his glorious body and let him know… that he was my man.
I slowly knelt down, sensually brushing my lips and my cheek down his furry abdomen, inhaling his scent, until my mouth was low enough to feast my tongue on his hefty balls, play with them and suck them into my mouth and lavish them with my saliva. I saw his thick circumcised cock, straight as an arrow, throb in anticipation, and I gave it what it longed for.
I opened my mouth and closed it around his glans, while my tongue furiously circled his sensitive corona, eliciting deep groans of pleasure from Troy. I slowly took more and more of the hard shaft, pursing my lips around it and using my tongue to press hard the hot meat against the roof of my mouth. I bobbed my head back and forth, and soon I felt Troy’s hands holding my head from both sides, while he started pumping his manhood into my moist mouth, faster and faster.
With every thrust he pushed a little deeper, and soon his mushroom head crashed against the back of my throat; I knew that some guys can take even a long cock all the way down their throat, but I was not that experienced, and I started gagging hard.
Troy instantly stopped and recoiled a bit, and when I looked up at him he had such a worried and caring expression that I felt… loved! He was taking care of me, he was sorry if he caused some discomfort to me! And though his body screamed for the sexual tension, he forced himself to stay still, waiting for me to catch my breath. My heart pounded so hard that it was about to break out of my chest.
I grabbed his buttocks and gave him all I had to give, out of pure love for that wonderful guy, ravenously munching on his cock and pushing my head further and further, careless of the discomfort, doing my best to suppress the gag reflex, until I could finally take every inch of his manly meat down my inexperienced throat.
“Wait wait wait…” – he hastened to say, pulling out of my mouth and holding tight his cock to stop the juice he was about to shoot. “Wait… wait…” – he kept repeating, more to himself than to me, putting an effort not to cum so early. I looked up at him and he was breathtaking, with his head reclined back, his eyes shut, his hand squeezing the base of his cock, deeply concentrating in blocking a sudden and untimely climax that was almost impossible to restrain. After few moments, he relaxed and looked down at me, flashing his dazzling smile: “I don’t want to shoot, yet… I want more… if you’re still willing to offer me”.
I stood up, kissed him again with passion, and while still kissing him I stepped back to the bed and lay down on my back, pulling him over me. “English hospitality is renown… especially for our American cousins” – I flirted with him, while taking some lube from the nightstand.
“Like they say in Mexico…” – I joked, smearing some lube on his throbbing manhood and bending over my legs – “…my arse is your arse”.
“You bet…” – he replied in a seductive tone, placing his slick dick against my rosebud. It took me just few moments to relax enough to let him enter me, and I saw him restraining his obvious lust, waiting for me to be ready for him. And then he pushed ever so gently, frequently stopping to give me time to accommodate his substantial girth.
I was lost into his blue eyes, that reached into me deeper than his long dick. I saw his massive hairy torso swaying back and forth, and felt his dick caressing the tender linings of my chute. I was in heaven, Troy exuded a confident masculinity that crazily excited me, and his cock… ahh, his cock was doing magic inside me, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine at each long, powerful thrust.
I was losing control, and he, too, was clearly putting an effort to hold back. I grabbed my own cock, and knew that just few strokes would’ve been enough to send me through the roof.
“Cum inside me, Troy…” – I breathed, looking straight at his eyes. “Are you sure?” – he replied, putting a heroic effort not to cum before being sure I really wanted it.
“Please… Please… Aaaaagghh!” – I cried out, when my dick erupted like a geyser. “Ayden… ohh… Nnnggghhh!!” – he moaned loud, echoing my stifled screams of pleasure, while his manly seed flooded my deepest depths.
~ Crashed hopes ~
He rolled away from me, and we stood on the bed, on our sides, looking at each other in silence.
I was elated, Troy was a dream come true and I felt I deeply loved him. But suddenly truth hit me: we had first met that morning, we knew nothing about each other, how could I possibly call “love” what I felt for him? Love at first sight was something I could read in romantic novels, but that was real life. Well, to tell the truth, the whole day had been quite unreal, to be real life, but nevertheless it was too early to dream of… something special between us. But then, why my heart was beating so fast?
I didn’t know what to say, and he was lost in similar thoughts, as I saw elated and frowned expressions alternating on his face. I looked at him, in silence, and once again the scar he had on his right cheek, and the masculine aura emanating from it, fascinated me. I absentmindedly extended my hand to caress it, and I saw him suddenly recoil, moving his head away from my hand.
He instantly realized he had instinctively overreacted and relaxed, moving his head closer until his scar was under my fingers. I loved him for that! It takes a lot of trust and affection to allow someone to inspect and sooth your scars… may they be on your skin or in your soul. In that moment I knew he loved me, I could feel it under my fingers, I could spot it into his eyes.
“I love you, Troy…” – I breathed, and smiled tenderly at him. My heart thumped hard in anticipation, knowing that he loved me, and he was about to tell me so.
But he didn’t. He frowned deep and recoiled: “Don’t say so, Ayden. We can’t possibly love each other. I… I can’t let myself love you, and you shouldn’t, either!”
“Do you… have someone waiting for you at home?” – I timidly inquired.
“No, there’s no one waiting for me. I know what they say about sailors having a lover waiting for them in every port, but not me. Being… like us it’s not easier in my country than in yours, and the Navy would discharge me on the spot if they suspected anything. I have no one. Oh, I had some occasional involvement with other guys, but no one ever found a place into my heart… until now”.
My hopes, initially crushed under his refusal, ignited again inside me: “So, you love me! I have a place in your heart!” – I exclaimed, beaming with happiness, but he again threw cold water over my inner flames: “Don’t torture me, Ayden… What do you want me to say, that I love you? Yes, I love you! Incredible as it seems, these last few hours were more than enough for me to understand that I love you! But what’s the point? I’m due to leave in a week, cross the Ocean and go back to my country and my life, possibly to never come back here. I service on the flagship of our fleet, and dangerous military missions await me. Even if I wrote you a letter, it would take two weeks to get to you, and often I will be in places where no communication is possible at all. How could we possibly think of loving each other?”
He looked at me with such a pain in his eyes that I was about to cry. And I knew what would’ve been his next question…
“Why don’t you come to the US?” – he said with a sudden hope – “We could live together, and when I’m on a mission, I will know that there would be someone waiting for me at home… Oh, Ayden! It would be wonderful! Come with me!”
It was my time to frown and throw cold water over his ardent hopes: “I wish I could, but it’s impossible. Both my parents are old and ill, they only have me to take care of them, how on earth could I leave them to their fate, knowing that I’d never see them again? America is not a place where you can come and go at will…”
We stood there, lying on the bed and looking at each other with a sad gaze for a while, in silence, until Troy’s frown softened in a tender expression: “But we have a week…”
“Yes, we have a week” – I replied, reciprocating his loving smile – “And I will make sure it’ll be the best week in your life!”
I turned around to switch off the light, and I felt his arms around me. And there, nested into his protective hug, I fell asleep. I loved him, and he loved me back, and at the moment that was the only thing I wanted to know.
~ A beautiful dream ~
The next days were the happiest I can remember. We both were eager to make the most of each minute of the day… and the night. We hang around in Portsmouth, buying little gifts to each other, watching movies (and covertly kissing in the dark), walking down the port banks and admiring the sunset from the South Parade Pier.
Whenever I spotted a narrow alley or a hidden corner, I quickly pulled Troy there to steal a kiss from him, ardently hoping not to be seen by anyone. And when we sat on a bench in the evening, we pretended to be just two friends chatting, but Troy always covertly took my hand and held it tight, stifling a smile and glancing sideways at me.
Sometimes I cooked for him, other times we had dinner at a restaurant, and not once he allowed me to pay the bill. I washed and ironed his clothes, and when we went to bed, there was always a romantic candle burning on the nightstand.
One afternoon, I took my record player and we played some music, dancing and hugging and kissing; at one point, I put on my favourite record, took Troy’s hands into mine, looking lovingly at him, and sang along with Nat King Cole:
Because you’re mine
The brightest star I see
Looks down, my love, and envies me
Because you’re mine…
We both laughed when he exclaimed: “Gee, you’re sickeningly romantic, you know, Ayden?”, and then we made love on the sofa until we felt totally drained and satisfied.
The next morning, we were walking in front of a flower shop and all of the sudden he pushed me inside, went to the counter and said to the lady: “I need a flower bouquet, please, a small one, but it has to be the most romantic bouquet you can make, it’s for a very special person, you know…”. The lady smiled and replied with a knowing tone: “There will be a very happy girl tonight…”. I tried to keep a neutral expression, but I felt my knees go weak and my heart jumping into my chest.
No one had ever bought me flowers, and he had asked for the most romantic bouquet! Luckily, Troy didn’t try and talk to me, because I could never have been able to speak, in that moment.
For the entire week we had the time of our lives, we enjoyed every single minute of it, made love countless times and if ever the thought that soon we would’ve been apart resurfaced to our mind, we just pushed that thought away.
While walking, or sitting on my sofa, or laying on the bed after making love, we talked, and talked, and talked, trying to squeeze our past and our lives into those few days. He told me he was from Illinois, and I made him laugh imitating his accent and calling him “Troy from Illinois”, and he mocked me for my passion for sailors.
At one point, while we were laying on my bed, he took my hand and asked: “If dreams could come true, what would you dream?”
I leaned over my nightstand and took from the drawer a photograph, a reproduction of the iconic “V.J. Day at Times Square”, and showed it to Troy. In the picture, a strapping sailorman was passionately kissing a nurse in the middle of Times Square, on the day WWII ended.
“This is what I dream of…” – I said to Troy – “Being kissed like this, and being able to do that in daytime, amidst a crowd, without fear or shame. But alas… it’s just a dream…”
Troy placed his hand on my face, gazed deep into my moist eyes and softly said: “It’s a beautiful dream”, and then kissed me tenderly.
The last evening, while having dinner, Troy became serious and said: “Tomorrow I have to return on duty at 6 A.M.; tonight we can still stay together, but I’ll have to go away very early”.
I felt my heart shrink, but once more, with a great effort, I tried to think positive, smiled at him and replied: “We still have tonight for us”.
~ A night to remember ~
We literally ran home, feeling time slipping through our fingers. As soon as the door closed behind us, we frantically stripped off, scattering our clothes all over the house. Troy held me so tight and kissed me with such a passion that I was almost breathless.
We stumbled into each other, walking to the bed without breaking our kiss. I pushed him down to the bed, on his back, and straddled his waist. I was hungry for his manly body, and I feverishly kissed, licked and bit every inch of his face, his neck and his torso, while he pinched my nipples, caressed my shoulders and massaged my cock, that was hard like never before.
The body hair covering his pecs tickled my nose as I worked hard his titties with my tongue and my teeth, and every groan of pleasure from Troy sent a jolt of excitement down my spine and to my cock.
I scrambled back and knelt between his legs. His thick cock stood proudly from his bush, throbbing in anticipation, and I engulfed it with my mouth. In the last days I’ve sucked him countless times, and had quickly learned how to control my gag reflex and how to breathe through my nose. I slowly lowered my head over his manhood, making it disappear into my mouth.
I didn’t stop when the large mushroom head forced open my throat muscles, and gulped down every inch of his meat, to then starting bobbing my head up and down, giving him a relentless stimulation that made him moan and arch his back.
When I realized he was on the verge of losing control, I recoiled, and started licking his hefty balls, sucking his gonads one by one into my mouth and rolling them over my tongue. I lifted his legs to have a better access to his balls and his perineum, and I greedily munched on them, unwilling to leave a single inch of Troy’s hot body unattended.
I feasted my eyes on my man’s manhood, in full display for my viewing pleasure, and then my gaze moved down to his rosebud, surrounded by a tuft of black hair. I had never kissed a man’s ass, but I felt natural to stick out my tongue and circle the wrinkled hole.
Troy gasped hard, caught by surprise by my daring act and by the unexpected pleasure it was giving him, and I guessed from his surprised reaction that no one had ever done that to him. After all, I thought, being Troy such a powerful and masculine man, for sure he had never opened his legs for anyone.
But I had found another way to service my beautiful sailor, and went on rimming his sensitive hole with growing passion, determined to make him never forget that last night with me. My tongue pushed further and further into his hole, making exquisite love to it. Troy’s hips bucked wildly and his groans and moans filled the room. I didn’t dare to touch his dick, as I knew he would have cum instantly.
I felt my cock ache for the arousal, and my own ass twitch for the desire to have him once more inside me, so I recoiled and stood on my knees. While straightening my back, my stiff cock for a moment brushed on his wet man hole and he inhaled sharply. I smiled and said: “Don’t worry, stud, I’m not going…”
“No, wait…” – he interrupted me, with an intense glare in his eyes. He paused, and no one moved for few seconds, our eyes locked.
“Do it…” – he then breathed – “Do it, Ayden… Take me… Make me feel I’m your man…”
I was speechless, but my cock answered on my behalf, twitching hard against his warm hole. I leaned to the nightstand and took some lubricant, smeared it all over my cock and on his exposed ass.
As soon as I placed my cock on his clenched ass, I wondered if I had guessed right, and he was a virgin. I knew the answer when he said, uncertain: “Just… please… take it easy”.
I knew what to do, I knew how a real man should act, because Troy himself had taught me, making love to me countless time, always putting my pleasure and my feelings on top of his own.
I restrained myself, waiting for him to relax and open up for me. I brushed my cock over his hairy hole, to help him relax, making an effort to resist to the excruciating feeling caused by his curly hair brushing over my sensitive glans.
Slowly he relaxed, and I entered him with extreme gentleness, stopping frequently to check him. For the first time in my life I was glad not to have a massive endowment, because the last thing I wanted was to cause pain to Troy.
Suddenly, the head of my cock plopped past Troy’s tight sphincter, and he exhaled loudly. I waited for few moments, and when he gestured me to go on, I continued invading his unexplored depths, until my pubes were firmly pressed against his ass.
He flashed a lustful glance at me and said: “Fuck me, Ayden… Make love to me…”
I started a slow, steady pumping, tilting my hips to pull my cock almost entirely out and then crawling again into his tight chute. He linked his legs around my waist and I bent down to kiss him, while my hips paced up.
I soon discovered from Troy’s moans where his joy button was, and did my best to brush my cock over it, again and again, rejoicing his gasps and his squirms of pleasure. I knew how he was feeling, as I myself had lost control so many times under his expert ministrations.
But I was not the stud he was: he could go on making love to me for the entire night, but I was already straining to explode. “Troy… I’m about there… Should I pull out?” – I breathed, panting for the exertion. “Don’t you dare!” – he replied, on the verge of his climax – “Cum inside me, Ayden! Give me something of you that will forever stay with me!”
“Forever…” – I whispered, and bent over him to lock our lips in a passionate kiss. My hips paced up, and my abdomen massaged hard his swollen circumcised cock, and almost immediately both our bodies stiffened in the delicious agony of the climax.
Only some muffled groans escaped our sealed mouths, while twin jets of manly juice erupted from our cocks.
~ Time’s up ~
It was still dark outside when we got up. We had a quick shower and I helped him packing his baggage. Unnoticed by him, I picked a rose from the bouquet he gave me and hid it inside his bag. While Troy hurried around the house to pick up his clothes and his stuff, I watched him, begging the Heavens to give me one more minute, just one minute, to live again the dream we had lived in the last week.
But time was up, and the USS Midway was impatiently waiting for my Troy to come back, to bring him away from me forever.
With military precision, at 5:50 AM we were at the docks, with the huge ship towering over us. There were other sailors coming back from their leave like Troy, and some of them were saying farewell to their girls. I watched them kissing, holding their hands and caressing each other… while Troy and I could just stay side to side, without even touching, staring at the grey metal beast in whose bowels Troy was about to disappear.
“Will you ever come back?” – I asked, trying to control my voice.
“I’m not the owner of my life…” – he replied with a bitter tone – “I’m a sailor. I’m property of the U.S. Navy”.
I couldn’t stand that heartbreaking moment any longer and whined: “I guess that we can share a friendly hug, at least”, and held him tight with one arm only, hiding my teary eyes into his shoulder. And if someone noticed that we held each other a bit too long to be just two friends, I didn’t give a damn.
“Take care”, “You too”, and off he went.
I told myself I had to go away, that I didn’t have to bear the torture of watching the majestic carrier unwind the binds, maneuver and sail away… and I kept repeating that to myself for the next two hours, until the USS Midway was just a distant, indistinct shape.
~ Life after love ~
I tried to get back to my life, after Troy’s departure, but nothing was like before. I didn’t go any more to the naval base to watch the sailors coming down the visiting or resident ships, I didn’t go to the pubs where the sailors used to gather and have fun. I didn’t look any more at them wondering if I could stand a chance. For years I had been searching for “my” sailor, a man who could love me, fuck me, make me laugh and make me cry, but I just stopped searching.
Because I had already found him, and then lost him, and no one could ever take his place.
Oh, I had some partners, honest and gentle guys that someway reminded me of Troy, but those relationships never lasted more than few months. And I got some pretty wild fucks, I can’t deny it, but all the time, while being pounded senselessly by those horny seamen, I wondered why on Earth I allowed myself to go through that harsh treatment, that invariably left me with a sore ass and an unsatisfied craving.
My parents grew older and sicker, and eventually passed away, and my life felt even more void. I never got a single letter or message from Troy, and though it made me sad, I was happy for him, because he apparently had been luckier than me and could rebuild his life.
I had some friends at the naval base, who sometimes passed me news about the position of the USS Midway, if that information wasn’t classified; and whenever I could browse an American newspaper I always looked for information about the grand aircraft carrier.
In 1954, incredibly as it seemed, that huge ship could round Cape of Good Hope to get to Taiwan, and then it mostly patrolled the Far East seas, Japan, Korea, Philippines… In 1972 it was sent to fight the Vietnam war, and – despite being an atheist – I prayed all the gods of the heavens to let my Troy return safe and sound at home… wherever his home was.
And sometimes, shame on me, I got emotional playing that song by Nat King Cole, “Because you’re mine”, over and over, until my eyes had no more tears to cry. Stupid me. I know. But I couldn’t help it, because Troy was right, I’m sickeningly romantic…
And yet, year after year, somehow, I could pick up the pieces of my life. I didn’t have a stable relationship and sure enough I had not loved anyone as much as I loved Troy, but I had found myself a good job, a much better house, had few close friends, and in general, being now in my forties, I had rebuilt my inner strength, and was ready to face the future.
That’s why I didn’t get much excited, in 1976, when my friend from the base, one day, told me that the USS Midway was coming back to Portsmouth in mid-June, for a joint military exercise with the Royal Navy. But it just wasn’t something I could ignore: that ship had given me so much, and had taken from me even more, we were bound, and I couldn’t resist its call.
~ Back to the Seventies ~
And there I was, on that warm morning of June, standing on the port’s quay, wearing my colourful polyester shirt and my tight flared jeans, waiting for the Midway to dock.
Why did I go there? Probably to feel the thrill of a blast from the past, or to eye muscular sailors that now were way too young for me. I giggled, thinking back about that old white-haired Admiral who was commanding the ship twenty years earlier, and I thought that maybe I was more likely to find a mate that age.
The USS Midway entered the port, and at first glance it seemed even bigger than before (I was not deceived, by the way: it was actually bigger, as it had been refitted with a diagonal landing runway). Again, it took almost two hours for the huge vessel to finally dock at the mooring and let the crew descend ashore.
The young sailors still wore the summer white uniform, and many of them were a real sight, with their bulging muscles, their bright smiles and the short hair. I stood aside, as usual, and looked at the visiting crew being welcomed by the guys and the girls who had come for them.
I was actually pleased noticing that more than one sailor looked at me with obvious interest, but I just smiled back at them and looked away. I saw the resident officers gathering at the foot of the stairs to welcome the Captain, sure enough another old geezer only good for retirement.
But I was actually surprised when I saw the commanding figure of the Captain at the top of the stairs, saluting the crowd, wearing a blinding white uniform full of decorations, the customary flat hat and big mirrored Ray-Bahn glasses. He definitely wasn’t an old geezer, he was tall, had a short and perfectly trimmed black beard and filled his uniform very nicely. I was actually glad to have come to the base, as that hunky Captain definitely was making my fantasy flare.
And then he turned to his left to salute the English officers waiting ashore, and I froze, spotting on the Captain’s right cheek a long scar cutting the thick short beard. It couldn’t be… It was not possible… I mentally counted the years and considered that Troy should’ve now been 52 years old. Quite young to gain the command of such an important ship, but the countless stripes of awards on his jacket spoke volumes.
«He can’t be him» – I kept repeating under my breath, feeling my heart race, while staring at him. But when he turned toward me and took away his glasses, the blue eyes that shone in the sun couldn’t be other than Troy’s.
Troy flashed at me his dazzling smile and rushed down the stairs, gestured to the English officer to wait and quickly walked to me. I was standing still, feeling my feet glued to the concrete. My mind was reeling, I knew that the US Navy still used to discharge with dishonor the gay male personnel, and in England, despite the fake revolution of the Sexual Offences Act dating back to the 1967, even cuddling in public was still prosecuted as a crime.
Troy’s deep voice snapped me out of my trance: “You’re here…”
“You’re back…” – I replied, forcing my hands and my mouth to stay away from him.
“Yes, I’m back” – he said, smiling.
I was shivering for the tension and the fear. With so much pain and effort I had finally put my life back in track, it was a dull life sometimes, but tranquil as well. I couldn’t stand the idea to have my Troy back for another fleeting week and then losing him again. I couldn’t do that, I wasn’t that strong.
“Why have you come back, Troy?”
“To fulfill a beautiful dream” – he said, and then, all of the sudden, he cinched my waist with one arm, threw the other one around my shoulders and kissed me fiercely, forcing me to recline on my back.
In a moment, I was the nurse in Times Square, and my strapping sailor was passionately kissing me, and I felt lost in his strong arms, careless of the gasps and the outraged comments I heard around us, careless of the naval officers who were surely staring in disbelief at Captain Troy Hunter of the USS Midway kiss another man.
When Troy recoiled and put me back on my feet, I could barely stand, not to mention breathe. He gazed straight into my eyes and said: “I’m no longer property of the U.S. Navy: the moment I laid my foot ashore I officially became a retired Veteran. I’m here to stay, Ayden…”
My mind was still processing the incredible, unexpected, passionate kiss he’d given me, there on the docks, amidst a crowd, and suddenly I found in my lungs air enough to say: “You’re crazy…! They could arrest us!”
“No, they won’t! RUN!” – he exclaimed, laughing, and then took my hand and pulled me at lightning speed through the naval base, and then out in the town.
No one was following us, of course, we knew well since the beginning, but we went on running, hand in hand, aimlessly, sneaking into the alleys and laughing like two little scamps who stole an apple.
At long last, we were finally running towards our life.
Post Scriptum by Oliver Warren, Ayden’s nephew.
Uncle Ayden told me this story the day I came out to him, at 16, confessing my attraction for guys over girls. Until then, he had always been extremely reserved, regarding his own sexual preferences, but frankly I was not that surprised, as I’ve always suspected that Troy, who had been living with him since before I was born, was more than the “distant American cousin” he always told us.
And I was not surprised, either, that back in the Fifties homosexuality in all its forms was a crime prosecuted by Centuries-old anti-gay laws, still in effect back then.
What actually surprised me was understanding that the “revolutionary” Sexual Offence Act enacted in 1967 was nothing more than a minor concession given to us by our widely homophobic Parliament. As a matter of fact, the 1967 legislation only repealed the maximum penalty of life imprisonment for anal sex, under conditions that it took place in strict privacy; but any gay act in public, including kissing, cuddling and even winking was still considered a crime, and it continued to be so until 2003, in England and Wales, and even until 2013 in Scotland.
When Uncle Ayden died, he left me something that only now I can really appreciate and understand: an old reproduction of the famous “V.J. Day at Times Square”, on which backside Troy had written, in his neat military calligraphy, “A Beautiful Dream”.
-~~~≈≈≈ooOoo≈≈≈~~~-
NOTE: A PDF version of this story can be downloaded HERE
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