It was on one of those extended away assignments that I met Steve.

I’ve mentioned how much I hate traveling for the job, and this was the worst – a four-week assignment to a major East Coast city that just happened to be near a Navy base. I’ve enjoyed a few squids in my day but living in an Air Force town you don’t see many of the boys in white. Maybe my luck would change here. God knows I had nothing else to do.

I bumped into Steve in an online chatroom, which is how I spent my first few nights in town, seeing as how I didn’t know anybody and none of the folks at the job had included me in their plans. Steve and I talked back and forth, getting to know each other better, about three days before we made plans to meet. I got the impression he was hesitant seeing as how he was active duty Navy. Despite the end of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” and the services becoming open to gays, there was still considerable discrimination and harassment, he said. I guess there always will be.

We both wanted our first meeting to be in public, so we chose a Burger King that was near my hotel. Turns out it was near his quarters too. I still had to use Maps to find it. I have no sense of direction in a new town.

Wow, was I in for a surprise. He was a strapping, good-looking African American man, about 6 feet tall or maybe an inch taller. I guessed his weight at about 175. His hair was military short and his brown eyes shone with a glossy sparkle that was dimmed only by a radiant smile. His voice was melodic. You could see him narrating documentary films about social injustice.

Neither one of us bought anything to eat. Instead, we sat in a booth for about an hour, sipping our soft drinks and becoming comfortable with each other. We talked about ourselves, our likes and dislikes, and backgrounds. I discovered he was about 15 years younger than I, came from a Midwest town and joined the Navy because he was tired of looking at corn fields.

After a pause in the conversation he asked if I’d like to go to his place so we could relax. The restaurant had become busy and there was a table filled with screaming little girl soccer players about two rows down that were getting on everybody’s nerves. So I followed him to an apartment he was renting near a university in the area.

Once we were inside, he offered me a drink. I don’t usually drink when I go out because I don’t want my driving to be impaired. But I figured one drink wouldn’t hurt, especially if there were physical exertions on the itinerary. I sure hoped there would be.

As he poured our drinks I couldn’t help but notice his hard body. The service had done him well in terms of muscle tone and definition. He was no muscle-bound Atlas, but his body had the look of strength, an immovable object. I longed to not only see it but feel it.

He approached me and handed me my glass. I was about 3 inches shorter than he, so I had to look up at him.

That’s when he leaned in and kissed me.

Some guys are not good kissers. They merely press their lips against yours and hope for the magic to percolate forth. Others are still squeamish about kissing a guy. Old cultural taboos die hard. Steve suffered from neither of these disabilities. His lips melted into mine, and then our bodies followed as I grabbed him and brought him down to sit next to me, all the while our lips were locked. I held him and wrapped my arms around him and buried my tongue deep in his mouth. His tongue reciprocated, and as our chests pressed together I could feel his heart pounding, which gave me a thrill. I was giving him pleasure, and excitement. That pleased me to no end.

We made out like this for the next 10 or 15 minutes. Finally, he pulled away and gave me that radiant smile, his teeth so white against his dark skin, as he stood up. It became obvious it wasn’t just his heart that was in overdrive. I saw a massive bulge building in the crotch of his blue jeans. I held him by his hips and buried my face in his crotch, licking and nuzzling him through the rough fabric. He moaned, “Don’t, please! I’ll explode!”

I pulled back but continued finger playing with him. He looked down at me, kissed me again and took me by the hand. He led me into his bedroom, where we sat on the edge of the bed. He started undressing me. As he unbuckled my pants, I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and threw it aside. Then Steve yanked my pants down, followed by my boxers. My cock was already at attention and he wasted no time, swallowing it whole in a single, sensuous bite.

The flood of moist heat that enveloped my crotch was indescribable, and I nearly swooned from the sensation of flesh, moisture and warmth descending on my fuck stick. He worked on the head of my dick, licking the cap and then under the ridge, flattening his tongue as he descended toward my balls. He came up and bobbed on it repeatedly and then slowed, licking the underside, just below the pee hole. Then he’d plunge again, all the way to my pubes, his chin pressing against my balls, my hands and the back of his head pushing him even lower, forcing more of my cock into his gulping, slurping mouth.

God, it was overwhelming. I felt waves of lust surging over me as I pushed myself into him with increasing urgency. I wanted this to last so in an act of supreme sacrifice, I pushed him away, ripped off his T-shirt and kissed him all over his face, making a loud production of it. I licked his neck, nibbled his earlobes and worked my way down to his chest and those Greco-Roman pecs, seemingly carved from marble. His nipples were pert and as I ran the tip of my tongue over them, he moaned so loudly I was sure the neighbors must have had their ears pressed against the sheetrock. He held my head as I worked over each nipple for several minutes.