"Hey, Katie. I'm back." My husband's voice echoed through our townhouse.
"How was your workout?" I asked, coming down the stairs.
He'd just returned from a morning workout on the base and was still in his sweaty workout clothes. I stopped in my tracks, not because of his appearance, but because of the familiar young guy standing behind him. I'd been lounging around in my comfy sweats and was not prepared for company. By that, I mean, I wasn't wearing a bra and my long blond hair was pulled up in a ponytail.
Padding barefoot across the room, I whispered "Come on, Gary. You should've at least given me a few minutes warning you were bringing a friend over."
"It's just Randy. You must remember him. He was over a couple of times when we had cookouts."
Glancing over Gary's shoulder, I smiled at our very cute, raven-haired guest. He was about nineteen or twenty years old, just a couple of years younger than Gary and I. He was an inch taller than Gary's six foot frame. I could see he was as equally buff and fit as my husband.
I remember seeing him a couple of our get-togethers, but I recalled him being quiet and shy. I hadn't talked to him before. Offering a smile and a wave, I simply said, "Hi, Randy."
He smiled back, "Hi Katie. I told him he should've called first."
"I was just giving Gary a hard time. You're welcome here." I replied.
"See? I told you she was cool." Gary added. Turning to me, he took my hand. "Randy doesn't have anywhere to spend the holidays with and it would really suck for him to stay on the ship the whole time. Since we have that empty spare room I figured he could stay here. He has his own car. He can hang out with us sometimes or just do his own thing. Of course, it's your call."
"Of course he can stay. Who am I to turn away a guest at Christmas time?" I said, knowing full well I'd be taking a different tone once I had Gary alone. "Randy, the spare room is upstairs across the hall from ours and there is bathroom is right at the top of the stairs. You can use that shower anytime you like sine we have a bath on our room. There's a bed, a dresser and an old recliner in the spare room. We had it set up when my sister came to visit, but now Gary uses it for gaming on his computer."
"Thanks, you guys. I really appreciate it. I promise not to be a nuisance." Randy said, lugging a duffle bag up the stairs.
I sighed, figuring there was no point in being upset with Gary for not asking. After all, this was his shipmate.
Some people say, "When you marry a sailor, you marry into the Navy." They aren't kidding, as I found out. For the three years we've been married, my husband, Gary, has been a crewmember on a destroyer homeported in Norfolk, Virginia. Because of the frequency of their schedule at sea, the families as well as the crew all become very close.
It was the week of Christmas and the ship had recently returned from a deployment. My husband had already served five years and he was due to rotate off the ship in one month-to a well-deserved shore duty assignment in Florida.
Wanting to save his leave days for house-hunting, we decided to spend our holidays in our townhouse rather than drive back to see our families in Iowa.
To be honest, I looked forward to spending our holidays together without the traveling and visiting. It seemed to me that Randy was quiet and polite. I felt comfortable with the thought he wouldn't interfere with it.
Over the next two days, everything was fine with having Randy over. We ate dinner together and he joined us in watching evening movies. On the third day, Gary was on duty. This meant he worked on the ship all day and had to stay onboard overnight. I wouldn't see him until morning. In a way, it felt nice to know I wouldn't be alone in the house. Randy seemed to be such a decent guy, I knew I had nothing to worry about with having another man in the house with Gary being gone.
That evening, I ordered pizza. Randy and I split it and had a beer. We talked about how we'd both grown up in the Midwest and how different life seemed in the sprawling metropolis around the world's largest Navy base. After we finished off the pizza, Randy headed up his room to play video games on Gary's computer and I decided to catch up on some laundry.
The clothes basket was loaded full and I huffed as I carried it up the stairs. Setting it down on to catch my breath, I heard noises coming from the spare room. It was the unmistakable sound of sex. Shocked and amused that Randy was watching porn, I quietly stepped near his door. That damn door. It never did latch right when it was closed. And there I was, peeking through the two-inch gap. What I saw did a number on me. I was instantly soaked.
Randy was in the recliner, naked. His one hand gripped the base of his huge throbbing cock and the other hand slowly stroked his thick length. I was amazed by the perfectly shaped head of his cock and how it curved up to touch against his rippling toned abs, just above his belly button. With each movement, his pecs flexed and added a bonus to the sexy sight.
His eyes were half-closed, and I couldn't see what he was watching. Whatever it was, he was turned on. Suddenly afraid I'd been spotted, I quickly picked up my laundry basket and headed to my room. I could barely take it. The image of Randy stroking his huge cock was too much. I didn't even bother to pull down my shorts, I just jammed my hand under the waist and frantically rubbed my clit.
I'd never seen a guy jack himself off to completion. Gary was the only guy I'd ever been with. Sure, I'd seen him stroke it. I've made him cum with my hand and after watching porn for some how-to lessons I even made him cum with my mouth. After much begging, pleading and coaxing from Gary, I even made a video him. Of course, he promised nobody else would ever see it. A video of me talking dirty to him while I made myself cum. It was just a little something for him to watch while out at sea. I fantasized about Gary jacking off to that video, many times. But I never got the chance to see him do it, all the way.
And I never saw a man stroke his cock like Randy was busy doing. It turned me on like nothing else. I had to see him finish. I had to see him shoot ropes of hot sticky cum across his chest.
Moving like a ninja, I returned to the doorway and resumed my filthy new desire to watch. He was in the same position, but now he was squeezing his cleanly shaved balls while his other hand stroked furiously over the bulging veins of his huge cock. Something was different. The porn.
I heard my voice. My voice screaming with my climax. He was watching the video I'd made for Gary! The video of me seated on a chair, with my leg lifted as Gary recorded me plunging two fingers into my sopping wet pussy.
I didn't hesitate, I returned my hands under my shorts and gave my clit another workout. Randy suddenly leaned back, thrusting his hips up. His hand stroked down until he gripped his balls and the base of his cock. Watching in awe, I saw him pointing his cock toward the ceiling as it erupted with four huge spurts of cum. Just like I imagined, the long ropes of cum arched up and landed on his muscular chest. Then I came. Harder than I ever had from using my hand.
