About fifteen years ago my wife and I were living in Annapolis, Maryland. It's a cool little coastal city that's home not only to the Maryland state capital but also to the United States Naval Academy. For us it was a good location since she worked in Washington and I worked in Baltimore. For me it offered the added benefit of putting me in the same town as my younger cousin, who at the time was a student ("midshipman" is the official term) at the naval academy.
It was always great to see him and meet his friends. I have to admit, although I never allowed myself to think of my cousin in a sexual way, it was pretty nice to have the opportunity to check out his friends, many of whom, like lots of military guys, were really good-looking.
For as long as I can remember I've always been attracted to both women and men. After some experimenting when I was younger, by the time I reached my late 20s I had decided to play it straight. Back then, especially, It just made things easier. I loved my wife and she kept me pretty busy in the bedroom, so my desire for female companionship was being nicely satisfied. Unfortunately, I still had longings for men.
One weekend when my wife was away my cousin spent the night at my place with three of his midshipman friends. Two were USNA wrestlers, including a really hot guy who had the muscular body and square-jawed face of a cartoon superhero. His name was Greg. From the moment he walked through my door I had trouble keeping my eyes off him. He had a great head of wavy brown hair and slightly crushed ears that told me he was a wrestler even before my cousin mentioned it. He was probably 5' 10". Between his muscles, his pronounced brow bones, his low forehead, and his jaw he looked like the stereotypical dumb jock but, as I discovered, was actually pretty smart. This turned me on even more.
The rules are pretty strict at the Naval Academy. Alcohol in the dorms is strictly forbidden, and unless you sign out on liberty, as my cousin and his friends had, you were required to be back before midnight. The four midshipmen planned to pre-game at my place and then walk to some nearby bars.
I was well stocked with beer. I drank with them but wasn't trying to keep up. I enjoyed the conversation, and felt especially impressed by Greg, who seemed not only intelligent but also well-read. After a while my cousin wandered into my kitchen and returned with an old bottle of Jagermeister. I had learned my lesson years earlier, but not these guys. As they proceeded to do shots I could see Greg start to fade. Maybe he'd been starving himself to cut weight for wrestling. Whatever the reason, the shots were definitely hitting him hard. At first my cousin and the other guys made fun of him, but when he started to slump over they helped him stumble to the guest room. I stood in the hallway as he stripped down to his tighty whities and they told him to rest up - they'd be back later.
My cousin invited me to follow them out to the bars, but we both knew he was just being polite. I was ten years older and would probably just slow them down. And Greg's continued presence at my place gave me an excuse: "Someone needs to check in on him."
That's what I did, but only after forcing myself to watch television for 10 minutes to make sure he was out cold. Then I sort of tip toed into the guest room. He was sprawled across the bed in his BVDs, totally out and totally on display. Greg had one of the hottest bodies I'd ever seen, and it was there for me to memorize with my eyes. Nowadays I'd snap photos with my iPhone but back then I had to just stand above the bed, absentmindedly caressing my stiffening cock through my jeans while gazing down at him.
His body was muscular and well-defined, with milky white skin and almost crimson quarter-sized nipples fringed with circles of dark-brown hair. He had a small patch of hair at the midpoint of his pecs. My eyes traced the very thin, very faint line of hair that divided his six-pack abs. Beneath his belly button, his happy trail thickened and darkened, descending seductively toward the waistband of his white briefs. These were well-worn and tight; his soft but ample cock bulged nicely underneath the thin fabric. As I gazed down at him I realized that Greg's body was nearly perfect. The only flaws were a few pink lesions on his chest and abs. I guessed they were the result of ringworm picked up when he was pressed half-naked against sweaty wrestling mats. To me, at least, this only made him hotter.
Having recorded in my mind some very detailed pictures of his body to revisit in future jerk-off sessions, I willed myself to leave him alone and walk back to the television. But a few minutes after returning to the sofa I heard the mattress creek as he got out of bed, stumbled down the hallway to the bathroom, and started to piss. He must have spent a solid three minutes emptying into the toilet all that beer and Jager. I heard him flush and then a loud bang as he collided into something. He was definitely wasted. Finally, I heard him get back in bed. I looked at the clock: it was still only 11:00. My cousin and his buddies wouldn't be back for hours. I returned to the guest room.
What I saw surprised me. Greg's briefs were on the floor just outside the guest room. He was now on top of the bed totally naked. He was flat on his back, so his plump cock was on display. It was soft but nonetheless impressive. His cock head was very large, with a broad helmet and deep indentation for his piss slit. His treasure trail descended without interruption into a neatly-trimmed nest of dark brown pubes. His balls were big, round, and basically hairless.
Standing beside the bed I froze for a long second, not really sure what to do. What if he woke up and saw me standing over him, staring at his amazing 21-year-old body? I could feel my mouth water as I took in the sight. He had his left arm raised up and his hand tucked behind his head. I looked away from his crotch long enough to admire the bulge of his bicep and the soft, straight hair in the pit of his arm.
His eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy. I couldn't tell if he was passed out cold or merely asleep. I decided that the only way to find out was to try to wake him up. At first I sort of whispered: "Greg?" No response. I raised my voice a little: "Greg." Still nothing. I planted my hand on his right shoulder and left it there for a second, admiring the warmth and firmness of his skin. I decided that, if I woke him, I'd tell him to get under the covers. But if I couldn't, if he didn't wake up, it might be worth risking it to explore him up close.
I clasped his shoulder and shook him a little. "Greg," I said. He didn't even stir. So I shook him even harder. I needed to confirm that he wasn't waking up anytime soon. I even said his name again, this time quite loudly. No reaction.
I lowered my face toward his exposed armpit. With my nose maybe an inch away, I inhaled deeply and admired Greg's scent. I smelled just a hint of sweat as well as the faint scent of Speed Stick deodorant. Almost instantly my cock was throbbing again inside my jeans. I glanced back toward Greg's face to confirm he was still passed out, then set my sites on his nipple. At first I gently touched just the tip of my tongue to his nub. His breathing continued with the same rhythm. He was out. I got more daring and slowly swirled my tongue around the perimeter of his nipple, licking at the light ring of hair that surrounded it. Finally, I gently sucked his tit between my lips. I could feel his nub hardening in my mouth.
When I released his tit and stood over him, I could see that it was not just his nipple that was getting erect. Greg's dick was now at half staff, noticeably plumper and longer as it pointed north into his pubes.
I decided to go for broke, leaning down just to touch the tip of my tongue to the tip of his dick. When my tongue made contact his erection stiffened. Soon a dollop of sweet-tasting precum oozed onto my tongue. I leaned back for a moment to get a better view of him and saw the thin stand of precum connecting my tongue and his piss slit. It glistened like a spider web before breaking and disappearing.
Greg was definitely a grower. His cock was now about six and a half hard inches. I was especially impressed by its width, which made it seem almost as muscular as its owner. And now his dick was defying gravity, jutting upwards at an angle from his crotch and hovering over his pubic hair. My eyes darted down toward his balls. Already his sac had tightened. Every few seconds his dick would twitch a little bit; it was so hard it looked almost painful.
