barracks & boinking

Listen to this song while you read. Watch the video too.

The number exchange. Often such a pain in the ass. But I did it that time because he was a fun dance partner. I was in a ticking time bomb of a long distance relationship. Retrospectively astute. 

The floor was practically empty of the usual bumping bodies that memorable eve before Spring Break began. Everyone had packed it up and headed for warmer climates. He was leaving for home the next morning. ‘He’ was Travis McCoy. I really love old school Gym Class Heroes…fuck his “Billionaire” song. I’m talking “Make Out Club" - still one of my theme songs. I’m actually listening to their new album (came out two days ago) and it’s pretty solid so far. Slightly less pop than The Quilt, thankfully, yet I wish it had more hip hop. But I digress. 

I’m glad I got over my mind blocks of “what will he think?” when I texted Travis out of the blue and asked if he wanted to go out. I really wanted to get laid. If he insinuated that, so what? Several years later I still remember what I wore. Black sweetheart cut top and tight jeans with enough stretch to kick my black boots up above his waist. Simple attire, accompanied with killer moves.

Travis was in the army. French, black man. A bit of an accent, but not really. Built body, plus he could salsa. Sound like a catch? Nah. He was a jerk and we had close to nothing in common. I also really dislike and frequently critique the military and the military-industrial complex. This encounter definitely fell more in line with fantasy for me.

Regardless, I love that high feeling of watching everyone oggle me and the fellow spinning me around in circles before grinding up into my pelvis. The music that night was blah. But we found the beat and stuck with it. I stumbled into the washroom and stared into my eyes. Told myself, “You’re finally getting fucked.” It had been a month and a half. I was finally over Gregg Gillis, the aforementioned long distance partner. My vibrator was old hat.

He suggested we get out of there. He wanted to bring me to his place since he was catching a ride from a friend on the base in the morning. We waited in the snow for a taxi, warming up the engine with our tongues. I still remember the gorgeous, picturesque drive. And sneaking down the hall into his barracks. It was mostly deserted. His room was plain and tidy with pressed uniforms, a laptop, a sink, toothbrush, and a bunk bed.

Taking off his clothes and revealing each stage of his hard body was a treat. I didn’t want to talk to this guy, I just wanted him to fuck me. He put on some trance music, melodic, no words. Fit. Fitting. 

His genitals were shaved clean like his short hair. Smooth, pushing up against my face as we 69’ed on the bed. Average length but he wanted me to tell him how big it was. I indulged him but gleaned a bunch about the composition of his ego.

It was a slick blow job, I was on bottom and he had a good angle for penetrating my mouth. I closed my eyes and let him use my tight sucking lips while his tongue pushed along my pussy lips. In my head I did this thing where I imagined the whole world like you see it in Google Earth. Then I zoomed in slowly to North America, kept on going to my country, to my region, to my city, to my house, then over to the club, then over to the army base at which I was currently enjoying oral sex.

I love doing that mental exercise, it gives me perspective. I always get this crazy surge. In this case I stopped receiving his cock and started sucking him off wildly. Surprised, his body jerked around. He came.

I was mad at myself. It was only 2am! What were we going to do now? We relaxed with a bit of space between our bodies for a half hour and listened to the music. Made idle chit chat. I wished we hadn’t left the club so early. Then, without warning, an erection joined our boring company. A condom was quickly donned and his hard cock was shoved inside my still-wet pussy. 

His tough hands held onto the top bunk bed frame. The leverage was intense. My toes clutched the metal and my muscles tensed as he jack hammered me. I don’t use that term lightly. I mean jack hammered. He rode me with a machine-like precision. With a steady, crazy-fast pace he almost completely withdrew every time and then filled me up again. This did not cause him to orgasm. No, this was normal fucking for him.

In my mind I wondered what would happen if someone walked in on us. Would he pull out, leap into regimented position, and salute the person barging in on us with his dick shrinking before all of our eyes? Would I nervously pull a sheet over my body

…or would I crawl out of the bunk and stand up slowly, showing off my curves? Would the intruder’s eyes be on Travis or on me, or maybe both? Could we convince him to let Travis off the hook if we let him touch me? Fuck me from behind while Travis watched? Would it escalate from there? An imaginary threesome was not far off for me.  

It was challenging to be quiet with this fantasy being played over top of my reality, but I had to given that I wasn’t supposed to be there. I felt raw and tired but he continued enjoying my cunt. We barely kissed. There was barely any neck licking, ear arousing, collar bone nibbling fun. It was the good fuck I wanted and deserved. 

He scooped up my ass in his palms, cock still lodged inside, and pushed me up against the bare wall. My long legs were wrapped around his core as he dug into me. Shorter strokes, but just as hard. He grunted and panted as I used kegels to reciprocate. One arm around his neck, one hand holding a metal bar sticking out of the wall. I’m not a small person so no one thus far has been able to continue in this position for as long as Travis did. Points for sustained effort.

I forget how he finally came. But I know that when it happened I had been attempting to induce it for a very long time. Why? Well, it was almost 5 o’clock in the fucking morning and he had been driving into me for three straight hours! We had changed condoms twice. I was turned on, but exhausted. I blame the endurance training.