Three Day Pass # 01

Twenty years old and just out of basic training, I was given a three day pass form Ft.*******. It was the first one that I had ever gotten one and I wasn't sure where I was going to go.

A lot of the guys just took off for the town closest to the camp but I had heard a lot about that place and really didn't want any part of it. It was just two long streets of sleazy beer bars—it was a dry county except for beer and wine—and those were jam packed with rowdy, randy GI's. Most of the girls in the town that went to those places were just plain old hookers, not the type I was really interested in meeting.

On top of that, I didn't really fit in with most of the guys that I knew in the service. They were a pretty crude bunch and I had been raised in a fairly refined home. They were pretty tough and loud but I was just the opposite. Most of them were just out of high school but I had put in a couple of years at college before I decided to enlist. They liked whatever music was on the radio but I preferred classical music and opera. If they read at all, they read Playboy and I liked nothing better than to absorb myself in a good non-fiction history or serious fiction. ALL of them bragged about their numerous sexual experiences with the girls but I really hadn't had but one or two not very satisfactory ones--certainly not anything that I would want to brag about—and on top of that I was a terrible liar.

So, I decided to take off and go to a large city that was about 200 miles away where I knew there would be some enriching diversions that were quite different from military life and worlds apart from the redneck town outside the camp.

It was more than four hours by bus to the city and I spent my time reading a book about the second day of the Battle of Gettysburg. There were some girls on the bus but I didn't even try to talk to any of them. They were either old, or married with kids, or fat. One or two were old, AND married with kids, AND fat.

When I got to the city, I checked into an inexpensive hotel near the bus station. The place was a five or six story building. It wasn't exactly the Hilton but it wasn't a flea bag either. I stowed my gear, got a newspaper, and looked up the local theaters. I figured I could catch an art film.

The theater that was showing the type of thing I wanted to see was within walking distance of the hotel. It was showing double bill, both films were documentaries—one Melanesia culture and the other on neo-classical art and architecture. I enjoyed both completely. The show let out at about 9:00PM

On the way out of the theater, a fairly non-descript middle-aged fellow--probably thirty-five years old of medium build--struck up a conversation with me asking me what I thought of the movies. He said he was in the film business and was trying to get some ideas from the viewing public about content, pacing, and the like. I allowed as how they were both good but, as I knew a little about neo-classical architecture, the treatment of that subject could have been a little more technical rather that simply artistic. He also asked whether or not I would be interested in seeing some clips of his upcoming film and giving him some comment on it. I was flattered that he would be interested in my opinion so I agreed. When he asked if I could do it that night, I thought, "Why Not", and agreed.

He walked with me over to the very hotel in which I was staying. He said he had a room there on the sixth floor where he kept his videotapes. When I mentioned that I was staying at that very hotel too, he acted surprised but commented that it would make the whole exercise so much more convenient.

We got up to his room and went inside. He asked me to turn on the TV and the VCR while he got his tapes. He headed for the bathroom and returned a couple of minutes later with six or eight videocassettes—but he had also taken off his clothes and put on a white terry cloth bathrobe. He asked if I minded and said he did that because he just couldn't stand to get his pants and shirt all wrinkled. I said it was O.K. with me.

He turned the lights off with the exception of the small end table lamp and put in the first video. We had to sit on the end of the bed because the room didn't have any chairs or a table.

The first film that was about twenty minutes began with a series of clips about art and sculpture—nudes from Greek and Roman times all the way up to the contemporary. Interesting, I thought, but rather prosaic. The next film was a little more explicit showing pornographic paintings and sculpture from many cultures. I began to get more than a little aroused when I saw a series of very graphic pieces showing female/male and male/male couples having oral sex. In fact, I felt my cock getting very, very hard.

The next video was a live action, out-and-out porn film. It masqueraded as a documentary about the making of pornography as an art form but it was just plain old porn—women with men, women with women, and men with men. But by this time I watching with interest—my cock was throbbing.

He "accidentally" knocked one of the cassettes off of the bed onto the floor and, as he was kneeling down to pick it up, leaned his hand on my leg. As he gently eased his hand toward my crotch, he found out two things he wanted to know: one, that I had a raging hard-on working, and, two, that I didn't slap his hand away.

He was on his knees in front of me and had abandoned any pretense at retrieving his videotape. His hands moved up to my waist and began to unbutton and unzip my pants. I raised my butt off the bed enough for him to allow him to pull off my pants and underwear all at once. He slipped off my shoes and finished pulling off my pants as he gazed at my erect penis.

Now my penis is about average—I guess—eight or so inches long and maybe an inch and a half thick—but he said it was simply magnificent. I have to admit it was about as hard as I can remember it being for a long time. It was so hard that the head was a shiny red and there was a drop of pre-cum beginning to bead up on the hole.

He leaned his head forward and licked the pre-cum off the tip of my cock and then gently slid his lips over the head. He moved his mouth slowly down the shaft until I could feel the end touch the back of his mouth and then, with a little more pressure, got the end into his throat. He held it there for an instant and then withdrew my cock almost all the way out of his mouth. His left hand cupped my testicles and gently massaged them as his right hand moved up and down the shaft of my penis just ahead of his lips. And then he repeated the movement a little faster this time. And then again, and again, and again, each time a little faster than before. His mouth was warm and slick and his hands were firm but gentle.

It only took a minute or two but I let loose a load of cum into his mouth like I had never done before. During my orgasm I was leaning back on my hands with my head thrown back screaming at the ceiling. I felt my cock pulse six or seven or eight times before it calmed down. He swallowed every drop of cum that I produced. He gulped and cooed as if he were slurping down a milk shake. During the afterglow phase, he continued to move his mouth up and down on my penis licking up every last drop of my cum.

When he had finished, he pulled back sitting on his haunches looking up at me with this super-satisfied look on his face. In fact, I would call his look ecstatic.

He asked me if I knew how good that was. I said that I knew it felt good for me but I didn't really understand how it could have been good for him. He assured me that it was good—very, very good.

As he stood up, his white terry cloth robe parted in the front revealing a small—perhaps four inches--but erect penis. He grabbed hold of his erection with his right hand and began jerking himself off. He wasn't looking at me but at his penis and after about thirty seconds he brought up his left hand and cupped it in front of his cock. He shot his load into his left hand. It only took about ten seconds for him to cum. There wasn't much of it—I'd say only about "half a shot"—but it was semi-milky and semi-clear. He held out his left hand for me to see and then brought it up to his mouth and licked it clean. He acted as if it were a delicacy.

He said that he hoped that I would be able to have the same kind of enjoyment someday. He made me curious...