Summer of Occupation

Out for my early morning run, I was passing the reflecting pool at the base of the U.S. Capitol's expansive West Lawn when my thoughts drifted to whether I or anyone I knew would attend the National Symphony Orchestra's annual end-of-summer Labor Day concert there five days hence on September 1. Beginning each summer by attending the Symphony's Memorial Day Concert on the Capitol lawn and marking each summer's end the same way had been a tradition for me almost since I arrived in Washington fresh from law school twenty years earlier.

This summer was different, though. This summer in my favorite city was one of shame and treason. A power-hungry, egomaniacal president and the radical, fundamentalist, evangelical, militant Christian Nationalists behind him had gained power and were out to destroy everyone who opposed them, particularly LGBTQ people. The military was occupying the nation's capital, and people were being arrested for assaulting their occupiers with Subway sandwiches.

That point was driven home as I jogged past a group of three uniformed West Virginia Army National Guard soldiers, accompanied by three black-clad, armed, and armored Homeland Security agents gathered on the corner of 3rd St. and Constitution Ave. NW. Sitting on the Capitol's lawn during a late summer evening, sipping wine and chatting with friends while we enjoyed the National Symphony with Washington under siege didn't seem patriotic, right, or even entirely sane to me.

That's when I ran into him, nearly knocking us both to the ground. When we picked ourselves up, and having made a point of glancing at the name bar stitched on his uniform, I extended my hand to Cpl. M. Stewart of the West Virginia National Guard, not apologizing for knocking him down, exactly, since the collision was his fault as much as mine, but being friendly. Young and incredibly attractive, Cpl. M. Stewart was all smiles as he took my hand and quickly shouldered all the blame.

A quick look around told me Cpl. Stewart was rushing to meet the group I'd just passed. I hoped they would be permanently assigned to the intersection, at least for the short term. A mental note was made to adjust my morning runs so I would pass this way again at about the same time.

The gay gods smiled on me. It took two days of smiles and nods being exchanged, but when I made the turn from the gravel path on the south side of the Mall, onto 3rd St. on the third day, instead of being with the group or even with just another soldier, Cpl. Stewart was standing alone in the center of the block with no other member of his or any other Guard unit in sight. I had been worried. It was Saturday. I wasn't sure their routine was the same on weekends.

I stopped, or stopped as much as runners do when they're in mid-run; I hovered in place before the young soldier, my feet constantly lifting and dropping, while exchanging greetings and engaging him in what I hoped he would take to be idle conversation. We talked long enough for me to learn what the M stood for, Mark. He told me he had never been to Washington before, and he hated that his first visit had to be under such circumstances. I decided Cpl. Mark Stewart was more than a handsome face.

Before I left to continue my run, I asked Mark to put my number in his phone. I offered that if he had some time off, I'd be happy to show him a side of D.C. that he should see. He seemed sincerely happy that I'd done that. Then I was off.

There's not much you can do when you meet a guy like Mark under the circumstances I had; what's going to, or not going to, happen is up to the gods. I had good feelings about our getting together. It's the 21st Century. Guys, even those from West Virginia, are active on the Internet, and despite what some people try to convince themselves of, few are naively innocent or stupid.

Shortly before six that evening, just as I was finishing up some work I brought home with me, my cell phone buzzed. Earlier, I had looked up the West Virginia area code. There is only one. Smiling, I took Mark's call.

You learn a lot about a guy you're getting involved with by where he asks you to meet him. If Mark was straight and thought he was hooking up with another straight guy, albeit one almost twice his age, where we met wouldn't be an issue. Mark suggested we meet in National Square at 14th St. and Pennsylvania Ave. NW. The location was interesting only because it was totally innocuous, unquestionably public, and uncontroversial.

An hour later, I was leaning against a large concrete planter/anti-terrorist emplacement when a young, well-built, attractive, five-foot-tenish, dark-haired guy dressed in jeans and a raspberry Ralph Lauren Polo shirt, with a white baseball cap tilted backwards on his head, tapped my left shoulder. It took a second or two for it to register that it was Mark standing beside me.

Seeing my expression, he laughed, "Yeah, my mom tells me I clean up well."

"You sure do!" I laughed right back at him. "Have you eaten?"

"Nope, and I'm starving. If you're up to it, we could satisfy two things at once?" Mark looked hopefully.

"Okay, what do you have in mind?"

"Some friends who have been here told me about a place called Annie's. I'd really like to grab some food there. That would get us fed, and show me a place I want to see."

"Annie's, huh? No tiptoeing around, you're diving right in," I laughed. "Whatever you like. Annie's it is. It's a little too far to walk or METRO. I'll call an Uber."

Glancing at Mark as I placed the Uber call, I thought about how I realized he was cute when I met him in uniform, but I hadn't realized how hot he really was.

While waiting for the Uber to arrive, Mark told me he was twenty-four. He grew up in what he described as a typical family in his small West Virginia town: a two-parent household with three kids. Like most dads in their town, his worked for a company that made specialty steel products. Mark graduated from college two years earlier and worked as an administrator at an Amazon warehouse. His commitment to the Guard was up in four months. And yes, in case his request that we eat at Annie's wasn't enough of a giveaway, Mark said he was gay, but he wasn't out, except to a few close friends.

It was no secret around town that Washington restaurants were suffering because of the occupation, probably as restaurants in foreign cities have suffered during military occupations. Annie's, being the LGBTQ institution that it is, was nearly packed. We spent an hour there continuing to get to know each other over Annie's legendary crab cakes and perhaps one too many bourbon and Cokes.

After leaving Annie's, as I was introducing Mark to the LGBTQ nightlife along U St., I asked if there was anything or a place he would like to see. He didn't stop walking or turn to look at me; he just matter-of-factly replied, "Yeah, I've been waiting for you to invite me to see your place."

Twenty-five minutes and another Uber ride later, at the end of a trail of Mark's and my discarded clothing leading from the bottom of the stairway up to the second floor of my home, down the hall to my bedroom, and across its dark brown, stained wood floor to my king-size bed, Mark lay on his back with his lightly haired athletic legs spread wide as I kissed and licked my way up and down the insides of each of them.

My hands were under Mark's knees, just about to lift them and roll him back just enough for me to lick behind his balls to his taint, when he reached down and, taking hold of my shoulders, he sat up and flipped me so quickly his doing so caught me completely by surprise. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my back with Mark crouched over me on all fours. I looked up into his smiling eyes as his now wide spread knees held my legs apart. Then I turned to look at each of Mark's muscular arms extending straight down on either side of my chest at my armpits, with his palms flat against the bed, keeping my arms outstretched.

"That was quite a move," I said in a low, deep, sexually drenched voice while looking straight up into Mark's eyes. "Can't say anyone's ever done that."

"West Virginia High School Wrestling Champion, 165 lb. Class and college wrestling. I've got a few other tricks," Mark grinned. "Don't worry, though. Ever since you knocked me down the other day, Daddy, all I've thought about is having you fuck me."

"Mmmm, a power bottom, eh, soldier?" I chuckled as I looked up into Mark's happy hazel eyes.

"I can wear my uniform next time, if you like, but please don't make me wait."

I almost didn't hear the last of that because Mark said it with his lips nibbling at my right ear.

Then he was all over me. Still on top, but now with his hands clutching my biceps, Mark's lips began kissing my face, all over at first, then zoomed in on my lips. His strong thighs kept mine spread as his chest pressed down against my pecs, and his tongue slid between my lips. Just as I thought, this guy is no bottom. Mark's tongue thrust into my mouth, and he possessed it as his hands freed my arms and wrapped around my neck. Then, in an instant, just as he'd tossed me over and climbed on top, he rolled us over again, and Mark was beneath me with his strong arms still wrapped around my neck.

Now, just as Mark was a moment ago, I hovered over him, looking down into his eyes. We were both grinning. Suddenly, Mark's face looked serious.

"No prelims, Daddy. I've been imagining your cock in me for days now. I'll be here for at least two more weeks. Tonight, just fuck my ass," Mark whispered before lifting his lips to mine.

A handsome soldier and a champion wrestler, too, fate must be rewarding me for all the pro bono hours I put in working on things for the HRC and Lambda Legal, I chuckled mentally. Mark might only want me to fuck him, but there was no way I was passing up on sucking on his pretty, what looked to be at least six-and-a-half to seven-inch cock a little first.

As I slid back and, while still looking up into Mark's hazel eyes, began to lower myself between his spread legs, the thought, 'Why do so many guys want huge dicks when hot guys like Mark have these gorgeous six and seven-inch cocks just waiting to be sucked on all day long?' Then I stopped thinking as I dove down on Mark's pretty dick and swallowed it to his pubes.

The satiny smooth yet sandpaper rough, warm, moist surface of the flat of my tongue pressed up tightly against the underside of Mark's hard penis, with its tip just barely touching the upper-most region of his tightened ballsack, made Mark gasp loudly and groan for my delight. My eyes had closed for a moment. I opened them to see what I knew I would, Mark sitting up now, resting on his forearms and elbows, looking down at my face, looking up at him where his hard, throbbing cock should have been.

We remained like that for a full ninety seconds while my tongue and throat muscles silently massaged, tickled, and milked Mark's cock as he gasped out for me a callopie of the most arousing oral rewards. Then, as he was gasping for air and his dick was pumping a constant stream of precum down my greedy throat, I lifted Mark's wrestler legs from behind their knees, came up off his cock, rolled him back, and sucked his balls into my mouth, one at a time.

"Oh...fuck, Daddy..." were the only understandable words I heard Mark utter as I pressed my left forearm across his upturned thighs to hold them still as I gripped his leaking cock with my left hand and began to kiss and lick my way slowly down his nearly hairless taint to the soft folds of Mark's small, tight-looking, almond-shaped, rose-colored asshole. Our eyes met and held as the tip of my tongue touched gently and began to trace its edge, again and again, then probe with its tip, gently, then more insistently, until Mark welcomed me into him.

I stroked Mark's precum leaking cock and tongue fucked his muscular ass for a long, long time. I'll admit it, listening to a butch guy, writhing on a bed on his back, gripping the sheets, moaning and gasping the most obscene things while I'm eating his ass as most men would a pussy drives me nuts. When I knew Mark was ready, I climbed up over him and fed him my cock to wet down for his fucking. He was as ravenous as a newly created vampire at its first feeding.

Then we fucked.

Bending Mark's legs back so his kneecaps were hovering just above and a bit beyond his shoulders, I kissed his lips as the head of my cock kissed his asshole. As my tongue slid between Mark's lips into his warm, moist mouth, the big head of my cut dick pried the smooth folds of Mark's tongue loosened asshole apart and began to slip inside as gently as I could manage. But Mark wanted to be fucked, needed to be fucked, and I was a man who loved to fuck. As the heat and need of Mark's hot, moist, demanding ass transferred to my dick and shot up to my brain, and from my cock to Mark's, our eyes flew open simultaneously.

"Oh...Daddy..." was the last intelligible thing I heard Mark utter as I slammed my cock all the way up inside him.

We didn't fuck long. Both of us were far too hot for that. After I'd reamed Mark's amazingly tight and clutch young ass for what couldn't have been more than three or four minutes, I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. The feel of Mark's hard, throbbing, and profusely leaking cock in my fist let me know he wasn't going to last much longer. Kissing and nibbling at his neck, I worked my lips up to his left ear and whispered, "You with me, babe? Ready for Daddy to take you over the Rainbow now?"

"Mmmm, oh fuck yeah, Daddy," was all Mark said as his arms tightened around me.

With that, my fist began to polish the head of Mark's leaking cock as my pelvis started piledriving over his upturned ass, plunging my long, thick cock up and down into my soldier's needy bottom. When I felt Mark's cock begin to expand in my fist as my own balls contracted in preparation of exploding my load up into him, I slid out of his asshole and stroked us both off all over Mark's amazing abs. We both watched, panting and gasping for breath as long white ribbons of jizz shot out of both of our cocks, landing like highways mapped out by a lunatic all over Mark's belly and chest.

Afterward, while we played in my large walk-in shower, Mark told me that, like me, he was HIV negative. He said he had meant to mention that. I admitted that I had forgotten too. The knowledge eased both our minds and would make our play more fun going forward. And yes, there would be more play.

Mark managed to schedule time off two nights later, on Monday evening. I did convince my friends that Trump's treasonous conduct shouldn't prevent us from continuing with our tradition. They all liked Mark. Not one of them guessed he was one of our occupiers.