Chapter 3 – Chapter 3

Sailor Javier

"The USS Halsey. My second year aboard. And you?"

"I'm on the Shoup," Tim answered. He looked away and nudged in closer to the table as another older sailor drifted by close to him in the bar and smacked his lips suggestively. "Just four months, though."

"Ah, four months." The guys would be pleased, Javier knew, if he landed this one. The guy was perfect. Probably only eighteen by the looks of him and just the right bod. Javier was judging this on his own body; he'd obviously been just right for the four of them last year. And this guy and he were almost identical in style and body style. This one was a lot prettier than Javier had been, though, he had to acknowledge. The major differences between them were that this guy was a blond and Javier was Hispanic—and this guy seemed so shy and a little skittish of the attention he was getting in this bar loaded with sailors off the ships. Javier wondered if he'd been this shy last year at this time and decided that he'd never been that shy. He'd known the score for as long as he could remember. And the almost palpable fear of the sailors swimming about the guy—he said his name was Tim—could, Javier thought, be put to his advantage.

"That means you've gone through all the hazing on ship then, I guess."

"Yeah, I suppose so." Tim wasn't acting like he wanted to talk about it. Bingo, Javier thought. That means you've been nailed already, little buddy. That's helpful.

"As bad as mine, I guess. Mine included being turned. Which is OK now, I guess, but it was really something at the time. But I got myself a protector and then it was mostly OK. Guy with a face like yours, and your size and conditioning, I bet you've had a really rough time."

"Well . . . it's OK now."

"So, you got yourself a protector too."

"Yeah . . . I guess."

"Makes a lot of demands, does he? Cock too big to handle?"

"No, not really." This given with hesitation. "He's got several sailors he's protecting, and he isn't too big."

Well, baby, you're in for a real surprise then, Javier thought. But with an ass that's still tight, you'll be a hit with the guys.

Tim was looking like he really wanted to change the subject—like he might even jump up from the table and bolt, so Javier changed the subject. He didn't want to lose this one. This pigeon looked like the mother lode as soon as he'd walked into the bar, all glassy eyed and looking like he was lost and might just back out again. The older sailors had seen him immediately and started jockeying for position. It had been Javier's luck that, to Tim, he looked like the most similar, familiar kind of guy and all Javier had to do was motion to him and pull out the chair next to him to get the pigeon roosting in his cage. He'd just come straight to him. Javier wouldn't tell the guys it had been this easy.

"So, this being your first shore leave, you bring enough cash for two days?"

"I've got $200." Tim said it as if he was rolling in cash.

"Well, shit, that ain't enough to get you through supper in a town like this."

"It isn't?"

"No. Did you ask anyone on the ship how much you needed? The prices get jacked up when the fleet's in. Two bills ain't even enough for an hour of pussy. And forget getting a room. You'll have to go back to the ship for the night."

"I will?" The prospect was crushing. Two days shore leave but he'd still be going back under Big Ralph's control for the night.

"'Course there's a way you can avoid that."

"There is? How?"

"I got a friend that would really go for someone like you. And he's an officer. I bet I could get him to feed you and take care of your room for the night. You could go back to the ship at the end of your leave with the two bills still in your pocket."

"For what?"

"He'd want to lay you, of course. But I'm telling you that he's a real hunk. You'd enjoy him. You've said you get fucked regularly on the ship."

"Not all that much," Tim answered. "And I don't know. I—"

"You go back to the ship tonight and your protector is going to fuck you, ain't he?"

"Well . . ."

"And is he a looker? I'm telling you that my friend is a real hunk. And he's an officer. An Air Force officer. He'd treat you right."

"I didn't really come on shore—"

"The hell you didn't. You sayin' you got all outfitted in those tight Navy whites and came into a sailors' bar at 11:00 in the morning just to have a couple of meals on shore and spend a night in a dirty hotel room all alone? You come out to get a little pussy from a dirty whore? You ever even had any pussy?"

He'd lost Tim half way through that. What had Tim come on shore looking for? It wasn't a woman. Javier had struck home there; Tim had never been attracted to women. It had always been men who had turned him on, although he hadn't done anything about it until it was forced on him. But why did he make such a fuss with his dress? And how did he plan to use his shore leave? Wasn't it more not to have to be on the ship and at Big Ralph's beck and call?

"Tell you what. Let me make the call. Maybe the guy's busy and won't even come. And if he does, you can scope him out for yourself. Think about it. A hunk who will pay for everything and all you gotta do is let him fuck you once. If you go back to the ship, you'll have the same old guy layin' you. At least you'd be tryin' out someone new. Have a little adventure on your shore leave; somethin' to remember it by. I've been laid by this guy. It was heaven."

Javier didn't wait for Tim to reply and Tim wasn't moving real fast in providing a reply. Javier was already pressing the buttons on his cell phone. He winked at one of the sailors hovering around when Tim wasn't looking and the guy came in closer. Tim shuddered, which is exactly what Javier wanted him to do. Bill, who had been waiting for a call, picked it up on the first ring. Javier managed to convey through prearranged signaling that he had a hot prospect and that it would help if Bill came in like a knight on a white horse.

Javier pointed Bill out as he hit the door and let Tim see for himself that the man really was a hunk, and that he looked spiffy and commanding in his closely tailored Air Force officer khakis. Tim also saw that as Bill entered and strode straight to the table, all smiles and in-charge authority, that he gave side looks of staking his territory that had the sailors who had been hovering around Javier and Tim—and had been egged on a bit by Javier when Tim wasn't looking—backing off.

The overall impression was of protection arriving, which placed Bill in a niche with Tim that was just what Javier wanted. Protector/fuck master. It was what Tim understood.

Bill, who liked the looks of Tim immediately, was all smiles and sultry sensuous looks, and touching Tim's arms and, once, his cheek, and, later, his thigh, while he guided a discussion about Tim's life up to this point and moved into everything they could be doing in the next two days other than fucking. No, Tim had never been to an officer's club. No, Tim didn't know they had bedrooms an officer could check out for a guest's use right in the club, something called a bachelor officer's quarters, a BOQ. And that Tim could sleep there in a real nice room if Bill reserved it. Yes, Tim was hungry enough for lunch. Yes, Tim had thought of touring the USS Midway Museum, a decommissioned aircraft carrier open to the public, while he was on shore leave. No, he didn't know that they had one of the world's best zoos right here in San Diego.

Tim was completely disarmed. Bill, indeed, was a hunk. Dark looks; black curly hair; an open, friendly smile; a magnificent physique in that Air Force shirt, with curly black hair peeking out of his neckline and on his forearms. Biceps that pushed his shirt sleeve up to his shoulders. A commanding demeanor that held back the sailors who had been zeroing in on the table. His conversation put Tim at ease. The occasional touch of his fingers on Tim's arms and hands sent chills right up the young sailor's spine. And he didn't once mention that going with him would require that Tim let him fuck him. Before long Tim was catching glimpses under the table of Bill's basket—and wondering.