Sergeant Bull : Part 4

“Seaside. This year’s team,” Hendricks answered, again scratching his freshly showered crotch. “Some of those guys are having career seasons, like Bruce Andreychuk. That dude is fuckin’ amazing!”

Bull smiled to himself. “Yeah, he’s okay,” he chuckled. “Look, kid, I called around. ‘Til your car’s fixed, I thought I’d rent a car from the motel office and drive you down early tomorrow.”

“No way-!” Hendricks said, smiling hopefully.

Bull nodded. “It’s already done. I don’t’ want you getting stuck. I’ve been there, and you can’t imagine what it ended up costing me in the end.”

Hendricks looked thoughtfully from Bull to the TV, then back again. “I’ll pay you back. I got money coming in a few weeks.”

“I didn’t ask you to pay me back,” Bull said, transfixing his eyes on the TV screen, afraid he’d already stared too long at the image of something divine.

The mattress sank suddenly near the fresh white socks on Bull’s feet. The other man’s bare back possessed his eyes. “You’re a good friend, Sarge.”

“Bull,” he corrected.

A strong hand unexpectedly gripped Bull’s toes. Hendricks playfully toyed with his feet, massaging them in firm, but gentle strokes. Bull gave an unintentional moan. The feel of the young soldier’s fingers upon him further dispelled the gloom and loneliness that had characterized his return to Seaside.

“What are you doing?” he laughed.

Hendricks tipped his face over his bare shoulder and flashed a smolderingly sexy grin from the foot of the bed. “I’m gonna pay you back, Sarge, the only way I can.”

Saying nothing more, the young soldier stood, hooked the thumb of one hand into the towel tied to his waist, then let it drop. From the coarse tangle of man-hair covering Hendricks’ crotch, a fat, thick six-incher jutted straight out. Two low-hanging, steam-loosened nuts in a meaty bag dangled below it.

Part of him didn’t want to believe or trust the offer, not because of Hendricks, but because of his own confusion. He wanted the other man, wanted him bad, maybe more than he’d ever desired another person’s before. There was no use denying his attraction further, so he didn’t.

Bull nodded, reached out, and took hold of the young soldier’s straining cock.

This was how it all began.

Bull stood at the toilet, trying to piss through the reawakened hard-on that woke him up somewhere shy of two a.m. He hadn’t slept much, if at all, and knowing he would soon part company with the stranger in his bed only worsened his attempts to force the stream of liquid gold past the head of his boner. Eventually, like the raw March rain cascading beyond the bathroom’s small fixed window, he found some relief.

He tapped out the last few drops and realized the young soldier’s snores had stopped. Flushing, he strutted back to the bed, his cock tick-tocking between his legs the entire way there, like a metronome. The image of what awaited him made maintaining his hard-on worth it. Hendricks was sitting half-up in the bed, a pillow propped behind his back. Bull could tell by the rapid, desperate hand action under the sheet that the young soldier was masturbating.

Giving his eight-inch bone a firm squeeze in his trigger hand, Bull reached for the corner of the bed sheet and snapped it down with the other. The action confirmed Bull’s suspicions. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, his stroke-hold full of six straining inches, Hendricks forced another pearl of precome out of his cock’s piss slit.

“Didn’t think you had any more of that left in you,” Bull laughed, growling out a sexy sigh as he pumped his own cock in unison with the young man on the bed.

Hendricks face twisted painfully. “I want you, Sarge,” he groaned.

Bull could have said a number of things, but a quick glance at the clock on the cable box over the television silenced them all. Truth was, in less than three hours, he and Chris Hendricks would go their own ways, probably forever. So, saying nothing, Bull eased onto the bed and kissed the handsome private with a tenderness he didn’t think himself capable of. They hadn’t known each other long, but Bull realized they’d already attained an understanding of each other’s bodies, their needs, wants. He motioned Hendricks up, then sprawled out on his back. The young soldier spread his big bare feet and hairy legs reverse-style on either side of Bull’s chest and squatted back, dangling his swollen nuts and the well-fucked tightness of his hairy asshole above the veteran officer’s face. Bull wasted no time; gripping Hendricks’ rock-hard cock and giving it a few slow strokes, he sucked the other man’s hairy nuts one at a time, tasting the stale sweat of man-sex on them. By the time Bull had moved on to Hendricks’ asshole – where he recognized the tang of his own seed inside the young soldier’s pucker – a set of warm lips and an even warmer tongue were raining butterfly kisses and licks across his pole.

“Yeah, Fucker,” Bull growled into the young man’s butt, which he’d marked with his jizz like conquered territory. “Get down on my dick with that mouth of yours, Private!”

Hendricks obliged and opened wider. The shower of kisses ended deep in the familiar pressure of the twenty-two year old’s throat. Bull had had better, more skilled mouths on his cock over the last twenty years, but nothing yet like this, nothing so fulfilling, so comfortable. Snapping Hendricks’ six-incher back between his legs, Bull sucked down the young soldier’s cock. The heaviness of hot, young spunk hit his taste buds immediately. Hendricks’ precome was thick and salty and dripped in torrents across his tongue.

Bull sucked harder, faster, wanting to savor each second they spent together. He had no idea how much time passed exactly, but soon after he gulped Hendricks down to his nuts, the young soldier bucked above him and discharged. A blast of clean, powerful soldier ball-snot fired against the roof of Bull’s mouth. Not to be outdone by the other man’s youth, Bull grabbed the twenty-two year old’s head and held it in place until Hendricks choked, and every last drop of his baby-juice had been milked out and swallowed. From there, he pulled the young soldier’s head up to the pillows and they kissed again.

They were still in that position, sharing the bounty of each other’s maleness, when the alarm on Bull’s watch beeped. They cleaned up, dressed, and were out the door into the dark, damp morning by three thirty.

“Here,” Bull said, pressing two folded one hundred dollar bills into the young soldier’s palm.

Hendricks looked down, his pale blue eyes wide with disbelief. “What’s this for?”

“For towing and fixing that shitty car of yours.”

The twenty-two year old shook his head. “I can’t-”

“You can. That’s an order.”

Hendricks drew in a deep breath. “You’re not my C.O.”

“No,” Bull said. “But I’m your friend.”

In the poor glow of the street lamps at the gates guarding Otis Airforce Base, Bull’s eyes met the pale blue gaze of the young man he’d met less than twelve hours before on a desolate stretch of highway. In some ways, he and Chris Hendricks had grown closer than anyone Bull had know over the last twenty years.

“Thanks, dude,” the young soldier said, flashing a sexy smile. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Hell, yeah,” Bull quipped back. The truth was, when the rental car’s passenger door slammed in place, Bull knew he was alone once more and would most likely never see Hendricks again.

The journey ahead of him would demand all his time, all his energy. It was going to be a long one.

“California,” Bull sighed, pulling out onto the road. “If that’s where Jason is, that’s where I have to go.”

The ride back to the motel in Seaside seemed to take forever. Once there, Bull packed his few things into the saddlebags of the hog, paid his bill, then hopped onto the motorcycle and started down the highway. From that point, there was only one direction to go.