FLORIDA Chapter 4

"Harder," Nick commanded.  

"Nick, are you sure?  I'm not - " Wes replied, looking uncertain.

"HARDER!" Nick repeated, dead serious.

Wes sighed, raised his right arm, and brought the belt down hard on Nick's bare butt.  Overhead, Nick's muscled arms were tied to a stout beam.  Wes ran his eyes over the fully nude man he had only met 24 hours before, bound facing away from his tormentor.  The broad shoulders, muscled back, trim waist, flaring butt, strong thighs and calves all told of the hours Nick spent in the gym and on base kicking the asses of young recruits.  He was an authority figure, someone the young men looked up to, always in charge, always with the answer, always pushing them.  Nick never got to give up control, and having the memories of Scott resurrected this afternoon had made his need all the more acute.  His head whipped back and he moaned plaintively as the hard stroke landed on his buttocks.  It was one of a couple dozen angry red stripes already up and down his back and ass.  Put there by Wes, at Nick's request.  

The drive to Nick's place was almost completely in silence.  The sun was setting; Nick lived in an idyllic weathered shack not far from the beach.  Definitely a low rent district if the poorly maintained yards of his neighbors were any indication.  Nick's yard was artfully filled with salvaged marine equipment; anchors, floats, and nets.  Wes commented on it, hoping to get Nick to talk.  "You gather up all this cool stuff?" Wes asked.  "Place came this way," was Nick's only answer.  After unlocking the door, Wes followed Nick inside, eyes glued to the Marine's butt filling out his camouflage pants.  What was wrong with him, lusting after a man? he told himself.  But the argument was wearing thin, as the memory of last night came into his mind, of the hard but pliable ass spread before him, Wes' thick cock sinking in deep.  God, nothing in his life had ever felt as amazing.  

Nick walked thru the small living space, barking "Sit down" to Wes as he walked thru to the galley kitchen.  Wes plopped down on the sagging sofa.  Soon Nick was beside him, their legs touching because of the small sofa being occupied by two big men.  Two cold beers and one bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the coffee table.  Nick reached forward and popped his open, taking a long hit.  Wes followed suit, drinking more slowly.  Wes got the distinct feeling he had been invited here for a specific purpose, not just to shoot the shit.  He had a feeling he knew what it was, and he was already reconciled with the idea of taking the big Marine's ass again.  But Nick didn't seem able to ask for it, so Wes started by asking, "Nick, what are we - "  But before he could finish his thought, Nick asked quietly but firmly "Wes, I need you to do something for me."  Wes nodded and grinned a bit, "Well I figured that, and I'm - "  But again Nick cut him off.  "No, not that.  You can do it later if you want though."  At this point Nick looked over at Wes and locked on his eyes.  "I need you to hurt me.  I need to feel something."  Wes started to ask for details, figuring Nick needed a shrink, not a separated, curious DEA agent who was investigating a case in which Nick was a prime suspect.  His ability to remain objective was already long gone, and he had even lied to Zane to protect Nick.  Was he protecting Nick, or himself?  He pondered that as Nick continued, eyes still locked on Wes.  "Scott Morris and I were together.  Lovers.  Whatever you want to call it.  The mission he didn't come home from was his last overseas assignment.  It was time for me to re-up or get out, and we were making plans for a future together.  He came home in a flag draped coffin.  I lost it bad.  I re-upped but was suck a fuckup that my CO busted me down to training recruits.  Turns out I'm good at it," he gave Wes a wry smile.  "That was four years ago.  I've turned down several requests for me to return to overseas duty.  I want to, but I need to get Scott out of my head.  Once and for all."

The count was up to 85 strokes before Nick slumped in his bonds, sweat covering his powerful body.  Wes had long since entered the right headspace to give Nick what he needed.  After 50 strokes, Wes had paused and reached around the front of Nick's tensed body, feeling the hard stomach and solid pecs; then he was shocked when he tangled his hand in Nick's thick belly fur, going lower and encountering his raging hardon.  "I'm good.  Keep going," Nick had said quietly."  After Wes had untied Nick's arms, Nick had slumped back into his embrace.  As Wes helped Nick into the bedroom to see to his back, he was startled when he spotted a series of milky puddles on the floor.  Nick had ejaculated at some point, the remains of his load still clinging to his half hard cock.  After laying him down, Wes went into the bathroom to look for some salve or lotion to put on his back.  "Get back here," Nick spoke up finally, his voice muffled by the pillow.  "But your back...  it's covered in red welts..."  "I don't have to be back on base until Monday, they will have faded by then," Nick replied.  Continuing, Nick kept his head down but told Wes, "Come fuck me.  I know you want to."  Finally Nick turned his head to look at Wes, standing in the doorway.  Wes asked, "But do you want me to?" uncertain if he was taking advantage of an emotionally traumatized, vulnerable man.  "You still don't get it, do you Wes?  I want to be used.  I want you to take what you want, with no regard for me."  Wes approached the bed, unbuttoning his fly.  Nick was true to his word; the rougher Wes was, the more he reacted.  As Wes gripped Nick's waist and ejaculated deep inside the Marine, Nick was sobbing, "Scott, Scott...  I'm sorry Scott...  why did you leave me?"  It was obvious the man was still torn up inside, even though he hid it in his everyday life on base.

Hours later, in bed naked together, Nick shed some light on his and Scott's experimenting with bondage and bdsm activities.  Initially a way to demonstrate their macho toughness and ability to withstand pain and torture, it had grown erotic.  Nick got up naked out of bed and padded to a small desk against the wall.  Not modest, Nick bent over and retrieved a framed photo that was face down in the bottom drawer and brought it over to the bed.  Holding it out for Wes, he quietly pronounced, "That's Scott and me."  Wes took the picture carefully and studied it.  Two shirtless built men, probably taken a decade ago at the beach, both in speedos tight on their fit young bodies.  Nick was already pretty hairy, but Scott was a smooth blond with bright blue eyes.  Their arms were around each other's shoulders, big silly grins on their faces; for all the world, just two best buddies hamming it up at the beach.  But if you knew what you were looking for, it was obvious that these two man were together.  The matching USMC tattoos on big biceps tied them together.  

At the same time, across town, Ty and Zane were also basking in the afterglow of a quick rough fucking session.  As was more often than not the case, Zane had taken Ty's thick 7 inches.  Sitting up in bed, the sheets around their waists, the two fit man groped each other's torsos as they came down off the physical high from the release.  Usually when he was doing Zane, Ty would pull him up to be on all fours, and reach under Zane to jerk him off while he was getting pounded.  They had a pretty good track record of cumming at the same time.  Ty reached up and took Zane's chin in his hand, turning Zane to face him.  "Two questions."  "Shoot," Zane replied.  Ty nodded.  "First, what's the history with you and Wes?  Second, what's going on between Wes and Nick?"

Zane explained that Wes had been his DEA contact when he was working undercover in Miami.  Ty took that at face value.  What Zane didn't share is that Wes had often come by to prep Zane on the details of the operation, joining him in some heavy alcohol consumption to get ready.  Zane had a modified loft in the warhouse district when he worked in Miami.  The place had an open floorplan, and after an hour of drinking and reviewing the case, before heading out Zane would usually change into his undercover garb right in front of Wes.  Pulling on tight leather pants over a jockstrap, and pulling a tight black tshirt down over his bare torso, Wes had seen just about every inch of Zane.  No way was Zane sharing that with Ty, who had a habit of showing a jealous streak about Zane's body.  Zane often thought Wes' eyes had lingered on his body when he thought Zane wasn't looking, but the man never gave any indication of interest.  Plus, even though they hadn't professed any commitment to each other at that early stage in their relationship, Zane felt owned by Ty and wouldn't have responded even if Wes had made a move.

"OK, what about my second question," Ty continued.  Zane shook his head, "Wes denied it, but there was something between them, I could tell.  It wasn't the first time they had met, that was obvious."  Zane turned the conversation back to Ty.  "How did it go when you talked to Stark?  What was with the strong reaction to Morris?"  Ty's mouth moved to a frown.  "He's clean, and he's right about the recruits."  Then Ty looked up at Zane.  "As for him and Scott Morris...  they were fucking."  Zane's eyebrows went up.  "He tell you that?"  "He didn't have to," Ty replied.  Zane gave a low whistle.  Zane turned the conversation back to the case.  "How are we going to pick up the trail of the recruits who went missing?" Zane asked.  Ty said confidently, "Got it all figured out partner.  You're looking at Stark's newest recruit."  Zane started to comment, but then nodded his head; it was obvious what Ty intended, and not only was there no talking Ty out of something once he had his mind made up, but it was also the perfect plan.

Back at the beach cabin, Nick was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, soft cock and long hanging hairy balls swinging free.  Wes sat behind him, rubbing salve on the welts.  "I did a number on you, Nick."  As Wes' hand swiped up toward Nick's shoulder, Nick raised his hand to briefly cover Wes'.  "Thank you.  It did the trick, Wes.  Come Monday morning, I'm back to my old self.  I'm telling my CO I'm accepting the assignment to go to Cairo."