*Note: Scott in this story is the same character from my other story "Dirty Patrol". You don't have to read that one to follow this one though. Hope you all like it and thanks for reading.*
To say that Scott had recently been knocked down a peg was somehow both and understatement and an oversimplification. At thirty-six he was now a major in the United States Army. Something he was not all that passionate about if he were to be completely honest. As he found himself close to graduating college some 14 years ago, he saw only two viable options for his history degree: history teacher or intelligence officer. He found the latter to be more palatable. He'd also found having a wife more palatable than being honest with himself about his attraction to men. Accordingly, he had approached his military career (and his marriage) with a barely concealed apathy that was finally catching up to him.
This week had been a tough one. He'd stood in a closed door briefing with several high-ranking officers. It was a big deal. He needed to be impressive. He was...adequate. After some stinging critiques from his brigade commander, he was offered a salve for his bruised ego.
"Maybe one day, when you're a commander, you'll understand," said the colonel. To which his immediate superior replied with unabashed laughter.
"Oh, he doesn't have to worry about that. Pretty sure old Scotty will be retiring at the rank he's at."
The room filled with laughs. Scott plastered a smile on his face and pretended to be in on the joke. But he felt hot. His ears were burning and if he'd tried to speak his voice would have given away his embarrassment. It was a devastating event, made worse by the fact in the past few months, Scott had actually put more time and effort into his work than ever.
Though, that increased effort was not fueled by a sudden overwhelming sense of duty. It was brought on by an overwhelming need for distraction. Because, if Scott sat still for too long, he might start to think about the events of a few months earlier. When he had let his attraction to men get the better of him. In the past Scott had rarely, bashfully, and clandestinely engaged in sex acts with other guys. Usually, it happened while on temporary duty assignments away from his local area and the army base he worked on. But over time, he had started flirting with the idea of strolling past one of those areas he'd heard about. Places where a man might tap his foot or make some other furtive gesture to indicate lustful intent. That flirtation turned into action. First by simply showing up. There was a level of eye contact and chemistry between Scott and at least one man. And then, shortly after turning thirty-six, Scott had acted. He followed a large, bald, and impressively muscular figure into a dressing room at the mall and...
Scott let himself get carried away. He'd been persuaded onto his knees and in an embarrassingly easy fashion and that figure, roughly 5 inches taller than Scott's own five-eight frame, had systematically stripped him down and fucked him in ways he never thought possible. It was the first time he'd been penetrated and there were times when he still couldn't believe it had happened. There were times when he was able to block it out of his mind; the way he had been pushed beyond his limits and dominated. But there were other times where it was all he could think about. Times when he found himself sitting at his desk, clinching and rocking back and forth; remembering what it had been like to feel someone inside of him. And in those times Scott found it hard to deny that he had enjoyed it.
Holding all of that in was not working for him and so he went to Facebook to reconnect with an old Army buddy - now retired - who because of certain events on a past deployment might be a sympathetic ear. It was not ideal but as a closeted, married man, there were few options. He'd seen via Facebook that Gary, a former E-6 who was actually under Scott's command, lived about an hour away and so he reached out, not expecting to hear back. But a response came quickly and Scott was both pleased and uneasy to receive an invite out to the man's home in a slightly more rural area. Now, early this Sunday morning Scott drove in silence, attempting to gather his thoughts. When he pulled into the driveway, they were still jumbled. After a quick hello, the two men snuck off to a "mancave" in the back yard. It was really just a large toolshed housing a few pieces of old furniture and an old TV.
On the short walk Scott noted that the man had let himself go just a bit. There were still remnants of a workout routine, but he was overall quite average in almost every way. As they sat in Gary's tool shed Scott began to finally get into the real reason he was here. He took an auspicious look around and began.
"Since what happened between us, you know that I've done things."
Gary looked confused but nodded for his guest to continue. "Things with guys. Well, I did something else. Something I wasn't expecting. Something -"
"Yeah," Gary interrupted. "What was it? Can't be worse than what you got up to on deployment."
"I mean I've only done stuff with a few guys. I've done oral a few times and -" Scott's statement caused Gary's perplexed look to turn into one of amused skepticism.
"A few times?"
"Yeah," Scott replied.
"You blew me and Jordy like 12 times on our last deployment."
"I didn't do it that that much." Scott started to get defensive.
"We used to call you Captain Blowjob."
"Actually, I'm a major now," Scott said before shaking his head. "But that's not important. I mean, I may have fooled around a bit but never like this."
Gary stared in derision.
"Well, not like this," Scott qualified again.
"So, when you would hang out on the bench by the showering stations waiting for one of us to come by, or meet us back in that shed? Actually, I remember one night we both showed up. I waited on the bench for Jordy to finish and then walked back there for my turn."
Scott let out an exasperated sigh. "Can I just tell you happened!?"
"Go ahead."
Scott went on to describe the illicit sexual encounter that happened in a mall dressing room. The details were sparse in the beginning but as Gary pressed, Scott found himself spilling every graphic detail. As he got lost in the tale, Scott didn't notice Gary's arousal or the fact that his hand had drifted to his groin. By the time Scott got to the end of the story, his old colleague could no longer contain himself.
"Holy shit. That is insane," he said.
Scott had painted a picture of his lean body being stripped and used in a near public setting and ended the story to find Gary taking his hand. For a moment it seemed like a gesture of support. But then Scott looked to see it being guided to Gary's exposed penis. In an absolutely mindless the gesture, he grabbed it then let go immediately.
"I can't believe you did all that." Gary had clearly gotten the wrong idea from Scott's confessed dressing room antics.
"I really need to talk about this," Scott said.
"We will. Just help me out with this first. You just made me so fucking horny."
Scott looked at the hard cock jutting out from Gary's zipper. He grabbed it again, sighed, and sank to his knees.
What happened next was somehow both dispassionate and degrading. When it was over, Scott lay draped over a ratty old couch in nothing but a bunched-up t-shirt while Gary let out a satisfied sigh. "Man, I needed that. We should do that again sometime."
It took Scott a moment to realize that this was over. Not just the sex but their entire meeting. It took less time to realize that he was a mess.
"Did you cum on me?" He asked.
"Fuck yeah, man," Gary replied. "I slimed you pretty good."
Scott grabbed his shirt and held it up to avoid staining it with what was left on his back. After a second, he simply took it off until a better solution could be found and stood there completely naked.
"Do you have something that I could wipe off with?" He asked.
"Oh, yeah. Give me a second."
Gary bolted out of the shed door. Scott jumped out of the way to avoid being seen in this state. As if anyone could see into Gary's backyard. A moment later the man came back and threw a role of paper towels at Scott.
"Yeah, uh...I think my wife is on her way back so, I gotta..." He gestured jerkily back towards the house. "You're good to let yourself out right?"
Without waiting for an answer Scott was left to do the best he could at cleaning himself up. As he walked back to his car, flip-flops smacking angrily along the driveway, emotions started to bubble. Scott felt used, unsatisfied, and quite frankly, pissed. The hour's drive from Gary's place gave Scott time to ruminate. He was all wound up with no release and then suddenly realized the time of day. Realized this be the exact time that his previous tryst might be prowling his usual territory. Instead of heading straight home, he veered off in a direction that he rarely took by himself: the mall.
Scott couldn't give his commander a piece of his mind or change the way Gary had used him and then bolted. But what he could do, was walk back into that dressing room and let that big bald jerk know that he couldn't push him around. He was going to walk right up to that guy and poke him in the chest and let him know that what happened between the two of them would never happen again.
Scott walked back into that department store with purpose. He found the man he was looking for quickly, leaning against a wall in an alleyway just outside of the store, absorbed by something apparently amusing on his phone. The man's muscular physique and bald head were easily identifiable. There seemed to be something slightly different about him this time but Scott was undeterred. He knew exactly was he was going to say. He was goddamned Major. A leader. An 0-4, who had subordinates. The Major was not a guy who got fucked in public stalls or tool sheds and he was going to let this guy know it. Scott marched right up and tapped him on the arm.
The man looked up suddenly and fixed the Major with a wary look before recognition dawned on him. The smirk that appeared on his face made Scott even angrier (and if he were being honest with himself, hornier). Standing with his hand on his hips the angry Major jerked his head in the direction of the dressing rooms.
"What's your name?" He said, his tone demanding and indignant. That seemed important to Scott suddenly, as if taking away some degree of anonymity might give him a bit more power.
"Call me Ray." The reply was cool, and almost disinterested.
