The first part talks about some of my first adventures when I joined the service
Chapter One: The First Taste
These stories aren’t fiction. They’re records of late nights and locked doors, of buried cravings and the secret lives we build when no one’s watching. They trace my path from a small-town high school boyfriend to a uniformed man with an itch that couldn’t be scratched by tradition alone.
I was the classic high school guy—rough around the edges, charming enough, a little wild. Fistfights in parking lots. Parties in the woods. Three of my four years, I was locked down with the same girl. She was smart, gorgeous, knew what she wanted—and I wanted her. But even back then, beneath the hormones and love notes, something was coiled tighter than I wanted to admit. Something I didn’t know how to name.
It started with a secret. Not one I chose—but one that changed everything. Something had happened to me when I was young. Something that splintered my sense of self. While I dated girls, and truly liked them, there was another part of me that leaned toward something… different. Not romance. Not relationships. Just... fascination. Heat.
I never looked at men the way I looked at women. I didn’t want to date them. I didn’t crave intimacy. But there was something about the act, the edge of it. The look of it in porn—the way a man’s body flexed at the moment of climax, the way a mouth stretched wide around something thick and aching.
Even back then, porn was my first classroom. And the lessons got intense. I found myself skipping over softcore, ignoring slow sensuality. I wanted raw. I wanted to see control break. I wanted to watch—and that watching turned to wanting. Not connection. Just the act. The power. The surrender.
Then came 4chan. Craigslist. Long hours down rabbit holes where people shed their shame and made plans in secret. That’s when the final wall cracked. I watched my first full man-on-man video in a late-night haze, heart pounding in my chest like a war drum. And when it was over? I wasn’t ashamed. I was lit. Addicted.
Fast-forward. I’m stationed in New Mexico. First duty assignment. Young, single, full of energy and unspent tension. I had a car. My own place. And privacy. Enough of it to finally go looking for the kind of release I hadn’t dared to touch before.
Craigslist back then was a goldmine. Anonymous, wild, and full of opportunity. That’s where I found him.
We were the same age, more or less—early 20s. His emails were direct but chill. No pressure. Just interest. He sent a photo, and I nearly moaned out loud. Tall, lean, sharp jaw, black hair. And when he sent a pic of his cock? I stared for a long time. Seven inches, cleanly shaved, veiny, and just… flawless. The kind of dick that made you want to worship.
Neither of us could host, but he had a solution—an industrial court, quiet, with just one house and a cluster of utility boxes at the far end. Discreet. Private.
I parked behind what I guessed was his car. Checked the photo again to be sure. My hands were trembling on the wheel, my mouth dry, my pulse pounding like I’d just run laps in full gear. This was real. It was happening.
He stepped out, and it was him. Even hotter in person. We made eye contact—half nervous, half wild—and he gave a subtle nod, motioning me to follow. We cut around the building, ducked behind the transformers, out of sight.
“You ever done this before?” he asked, low, unsteady, as he undid his belt.
I dropped to my knees, gravel biting through my uniform pants.
“Not like this,” I said, voice rough. “But yeah… I’ve sucked someone before.”
He exhaled slowly, then pulled himself free. His semi hard cock flopped out of his pants; it was freshly shaven, smelling slightly of a man soap, likely old fashioned if I had to guess.
The low bit emailed photo didn't do it justice, his cock looked great. It was long, about 7,” thick and veiny, with a solid round head. His balls were shaved as well, smooth, and beautifully round.
I didn’t let myself hesitate. I reached forward, gripped him at the base, and leaned in. I angled it upward, then traced my tounge from the very tip down to his balls, where I began to suck and massage them, alternating back and forth as I slowly jerked his cock. In no time at all, he was fully hard, so I licked clean my mess and traced my tongue back up to the tip of his cock.
His breath hitched, legs shifting slightly as I worked him with slow, focused attention. The taste of him filled my mouth, warm and masculine, laced with just enough soap to make it intimate as I slowly slid my mouth over the head.
He groaned, low and helpless, and tangled a hand briefly in my hair. My body reacted instantly, my own cock straining in my pants as I drowned myself in the moment. I was so turned on from his hardness, his taste, his moans, that I only had one focus–cum. So I cupped his balls with my left hand, took him all the way in my throat, and started bobbing up and down, as fast as I could
He surprised me and held on for several minutes, allowing me to have a little bit of fun as I actually had to do some work for my reward. As I continue to bob, I dance my tongue around the tip of his penis, teasing the hole and frenulum.
I wanted to hear him unravel. I wanted to be the reason he lost control.
“Oh my God, you’re really good at this.”
I moan in agreement and continue working, absolutely enticed by how delicious and fun it was to have him in my mouth. Every curve and vein my tongue touched turned me on more and more.
“Oh man, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that,” he said, moaning and signing all throughout, barely keeping himself together.
I moan in return, deeply aroused by his pleasure, and increase the suction of my blowjob. Shortly after, I feel his balls tighten, his cock harden, then suddenly he groans as he starts fucking my face, his cock sliding in and out with ease and a quiet, rythmic thuck thuck thuck. His cock starts to thicken and pulsate, rope after rope of cum spraying my tongue. I swallowed every drop and I kept going. Slowly, teasingly. Not ready to let him go just yet. But eventually, he stepped back with a soft laugh and a shaky exhale.
“Damn… that was insane. You’re seriously good at that.”
We bumped fists. Said the usual maybe-we’ll-do-this-again. No promises. Just a shared secret in the New Mexico moonlight.
I waited until he drove off, then climbed back into my car, panting, aching. I yanked my pants open and furiously masturbated, thinking about the whole ordeal with the remaining hints of cum teasing my taste buds. To avoid a mess, I shot my load in my hand, then licked that mess up too.
I never heard from him again. Craigslist was wild like that—hot, fast, and gone. But it wasn’t the end. It was just the first. The door was open now. And I had a lot more to explore. And just like that… I was hooked.
One encounter didn’t satisfy the hunger. It fed it. Lit it up from within. That spark of transgression, of ownership and submission, of slipping under the skin of what I was supposed to be, had turned into a full-blown fire. But still, I wore the mask. Played the game. Kept my secrets close.
For the next few months, life marched on. Long hours on the flight line, soaked in sweat and hydraulic fluid. I learned how to keep helicopters in the air, how to fake a smile when I was exhausted, and how to stash fantasies behind neutral eyes. Days were muscle memory. Nights… a little less so.
I made friends—guys my age and a few crusty NCOs who had stories I wasn’t ready to hear. We hit the town when we could. Drinking. Laughing. Getting into just enough trouble to feel alive.
Eventually, we started partying with a crew from the University of New Mexico. It started casual—someone knew someone, then suddenly we were regulars. Their apartments were insane for college housing. Full-sized layouts, big-ass living rooms, two bathrooms, and only two people to a unit. They had a pool the size of a damn motel and a hot tub that steamed like a promise every Friday night.
By week three, we were practically part of the furniture—us in uniform or half-dressed civvies, showing up to their off-campus complex with liquor, speakers, and stories. It was a blur of music, sweat, chlorine, and temptation.
That’s when I lost my virginity. Finally. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t magic. But it was damn fun. She was wild and free, with a body that didn’t quit and a mouth that gave as good as it got. I say this with nothing but respect—she was the queen of the “dorm ho” scene. God bless her for that. We went at it for a few months, sneaking away during parties, fooling around on balconies and bathroom counters.
But while my body was satisfied, something deeper still pulsed underneath. That familiar itch. That whispered craving. I didn’t just want to be touched—I wanted to serve. I wanted to submit, in secret. I wanted to swallow again.
So, I did what any horny young airman with a secret kink and too much downtime would do: I went back to Craigslist.
Back then, Craigslist was like Vegas with pixels. Raw, unpredictable, and dangerous in the best ways. I made my post. Simple. Honest.
“Young airman looking to suck.”
It didn’t take long.
Most of the responses were garbage—bots, spam, or ancient creeps who thought “airman” meant “desperate.” One guy just sent a picture of a foot and his address. Hard pass.
But then came one email that caught my eye. It was clean. Chill. No pressure. His opener was clever, something about my “service to the community,” and I chuckled out loud. We exchanged a few messages, gradually peeling back the layers.
He was a college guy. Lived solo. Had experience but wasn’t cocky. He promised to “pull me out of my shell”—his words. Said he wanted to help me embrace who I was, not just what I wanted to do. That... hit me harder than expected.
Then he sent me a photo or two, of him and his cock, promising the biggest loads I could want.
My mouth watered. My brain said "maybe later." My body said "go now."
He offered to host.
His place was a studio above a car park downtown. Clean, compact, and surprisingly cozy. I remember how surreal it felt, stepping out of my car and staring at the stairwell; narrow, shadowed, like something out of a dream or a trap.
I emailed him that I’d arrived. Thirty seconds later, a porch light flicked on. My cue.
The stairs creaked under my boots as I climbed, heartbeat in my throat. The door was already open, a soft glow spilling into the hall. Blue LED strips lined the ceiling, casting everything in a slow, seductive haze.
And then I saw him.
He was naked on the bed, calm as water, hands behind his head. Two aquariums flanked the frame, full of quiet fish gliding through liquid light. But my attention wasn’t on the fish.
His cock was standing proud, already hard, twitching slightly with anticipation. It wasn't as big as the last, sitting just shy of 6”, but it was thick and veiny, cut, and, like before, smelled very inviting. He was a handsome guy himself, light skinned Mexican, average build, obviously loved beer.
He looked up at me, casual but focused.
“No rush,” he said, voice low and patient. “Take your clothes off, come join me when you're ready.”
I nodded slowly, my fingers fumbling at my belt. As I stripped layer by layer, I couldn’t stop staring. This wasn’t like last time. This was controlled. Intentional. A man in his element, letting me step into it. He was slowly stroking his hard cock, a slight grin of amusement on his face.
By the time my pants dropped, I was rock hard. I climbed onto the bed, heart hammering. He reached out—firm but gentle—and cradled the back of my head. He didn’t force me. He guided me, pulled me gently towards his twitching member. I opened my mouth just as his tip brushed my lips, and he slowly pressed me down to the hilt. He held me there as I traced his balls with my fingers, dancing my tongue around the head of his cock, lightly creating suction on his head.
I moaned softly, vibrating against him. The warmth of his cock, the heaviness, the way he fit against my tongue—it overwhelmed me in the best way.
Slowly and gently, he lifted my head to the tip, then plunged me back down to the hilt. He whispered down to me as he moved, hips rocking in slow rhythm.
“Oh yeah, you like that cock.”
Mhmm I reply, swallowing the accumulated spit, my tongue flicking his cock hole.
“Yeah, you’re a good little cock sucker, shit feels good.”
We continued the same way for about fifteen minutes; him making love to my mouth, whispering dirty words of encouragement. I couldn’t stop myself. One hand gripped his thigh. The other wrapped around my own cock, slowly jerking, my first time with another stranger.
“Don’t move,” he said suddenly, pulling out with a slick sound. “Stay just like that. Look at me.”
I froze in place, breath shallow, eyes wide. He stood, towering over me, cock glistening in the low light.
“Open your mouth.”
I did as he asked, tilting my head back with my mouth open, tongue out, eager for a treat. He gripped himself, stroking fast. The wet, rhythmic sound filled the room like a beat I couldn’t unhear.
I don't know if there is a better sound than a lubed up cock working to an orgasm.
“You want this nut?” he growled.
I nodded, licking my lips, leaning forward slightly, resting my tongue against the head of his cock. Holding my head still, he leaned forward, placing his head just on my tongue as he shot rope after rope of thick cum. He wasn't kidding, he shot big loads. I gagged, but I kept going.
I stayed there, tasting every last drop, licking him clean with slow, worshipful precision. His body twitched with every pass of my tongue, his breathing ragged. I could’ve stayed there all night.
“Holy shit, how was that cock? You enjoy that cum?”
I nodded as I cleaned myself up. “Yeah man, you have a great cock, can't wait to do it again.”
Eventually, I sat up, still reeling, still pulsing with the aftershock. But the moment had passed. I was still quiet back then—still trying to understand myself, still unsure who I could be once the clothes were back on.
I stood, dressed, thanked him in a low voice, and slipped out the door.
In the car, alone, the tension came roaring back. I gripped myself, still sticky with spit and arousal. I masturbated hard and fast, releasing the blue balls I gave myself, then licked the mess clean.
I had planned to meet him again. We even set a date. But life had other ideas.
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