Marine Vet Ch 02
Ollie and Tory begin to develop a relationship
This story is fiction. But unfortunately, the premises on which it is built have been repeated over and over. And it seems that even the small amount we do to help those who have fought for us is being cut back. Veterans, thank you for your service. Everyone in the story is over 18. I've used the format of a longer story for this submission. Β©Copyright, 2025, Brunosden.
Told in the first person voice of Oliver Strauss, a 23 year old young gay man.....
It's early Saturday morning. By far the best hours of the week. I've just awakened. I'm still curled, naked, around my best friend, Tory Aikman. My chest is pressed into his back. My head is resting on his shoulder. My left thigh is arched over his right. And my left fist is lightly cradling his chubbed cock. He too is just coming to life. I can feel the blood pumping into his shaft. It's early, but our dicks have been up for some time. That isn't so unusual. Morning wood is common. Morning steel is a natural when it's planted between two hard thick thighs. Or when his is still being fisted by my sweaty palms.
It's hot. The AC isn't great in my garage apartment, and the temperatures in Southern Indiana in September are like mid-summer. We're sweaty and reek of the musky testosterone that we used for perfume last night. We had violent sex last night followed by a flip with slow protracted sex with tons of edging. And love and affection are wafting just above us, settling onto us like a thick morning fog.
Fuck what a night! Both of us got off--twice. It was fuckin' epic. Thank god, my place is over the garage and a hundred feet or more from the main house. I guess we must have been pretty noisy. My throat is still sore. So is my ass. His big dick sure has its moments!
Let me step back for a moment.
I'm Ollie Strauss and Tory is my best and longest friend. We were separated for about four years when he served in the desert with the Corps. He returned a mess, and I intervened. I got him to coach a community college intramural football team. And I got him to attend art classes which I was teaching as a VA intern--art therapy. It was touch and go for about six weeks. He was obviously suffering, and because of my affection for him, I think I was too. Then there was the miracle. One night he accused me of trying to seduce him. I thought it was over. But, within a few minutes, he related some stories about the "necessity" for homosexuality in the desert. And a few of his adventures, including one where his partner one night had been fatally wounded early the next morning. The dam broke. And we fucked that night. And again. And again.
Incidentally, Tory is definitely someone that I'd try to seduce (if I didn't consider myself to be in a therapeutic relationship). He's all man, all marine. Slim, deeply tanned, muscled, alpha, about six foot, handsome and hung, like a fuckin' horse. With the tightest uplifted ass on the planet. He had turned the tables on me and took the first steps. Minutes later, I was under him, being pounded roughly to a memorable orgasm. Less than an hour later, it was my turn--and fortunately for both of us, Tory enjoys catching as much as pitching. When I came, I saw the fire in his eyes as he followed with his second load of the night--shot after shot of creamy man seed that glued us together.
Interestingly, our first time together was the night when he announced that he had landed a job--something he feared would never happen. It was half-way to Indianapolis from Eden (where we had lived as boys and where my apartment was now located), at Kipling's Auto Mart, about 30 miles north. Given his experience and expertise, he was hired as a group leader of a service team at a large auto dealership. That was his dream job. He was in love with cars and engines.
After that night, we fell into an easy rhythm. The next six weeks were the best I could ever have wished for. He spent three evenings a week at my place--two after football scrimmages and one (Friday night) after the art class, but went home late most of the time. Spending the night frequently might have caused his folks to question him--and he was still in the closet.
By then, my folks (to whom I had come out as gay years before) knew that I had a special friend, but they hadn't realized it was Tory--whose family they knew well. I did all the driving, and Tory never parked his precious antique Impala in our drive.
Yesterday, Tory asked me to have dinner at his place after the art class--and at dinner, he quietly told his folks that he was bi, probably gay, and that I was his current partner and boyfriend. I was floored at what happened.
His invitation to dinner was really not so unusual--as boyhood friends, we had eaten at each other's homes many times. His father was stunned at the announcement and said nothing. His mother was unusually quiet for a minute or two until she rose and moved to pull him into a hug. "If it had to be a boy, I'm pleased it's Ollie. You know this isn't going to be easy. But, if you are in love, it can work. Indiana is not very gay-friendly. But, fortunately since Peter, Indianapolis, where he was mayor, has opened up some I'm told."
She looked over at Ollie who had been silent throughout the playout of the scene, "Do your folks know?"
"They know I'm gay. But they don't know it's Tory. We've been very careful. We wanted to be sure before we broke the news."
Then Tory interrupted again, "But, it's time. Let me explain. Ollie has been offered a three-day-a-week gig teaching art at the VA hospital in Indianapolis. We are going to move in together--probably in the southern part of the city--I can commute to Kipling's from there, and he'll be closer to the VA. He's going to continue teaching at SICC--but only a few nights a week. And a gallery in Indianapolis has agreed to handle his work. You know his first show there was a real success. So Indianapolis makes sense for both of us."
"We're going to break the news to them tomorrow morning."
Then Dad looked me straight in the eye. "I would never have guessed. Now I understand why the Impala is here so many nights. Here, we thought you were drinking too much and crashing with various dates. Thank god there is a better explanation. But, we could have lost you in the desert. And we're not going to lose you over this. We'll come to terms with it. We love you--and now I think I understand how good Ollie has been for you these last months. Thank you Ollie. For helping us to take care of our boy." Then he too hugged--both of us. "You'll both be welcome in this house anytime. And if you need any help with a downpayment, let's talk."
"We haven't decided on a neighborhood, yet. But maybe somewhere around the Mass Ave district, near the art museum. We're going to go hunting next weekend."