THE CRYING MARINE

CW: Sexual Content, Language

Let me set the scene: It’s my third year of college. I’m a broke college student who just finished paying for books, the student worker job only makes up a little bit of cash, and getting food stamps living at a university apartment is impossible. All social functions require money because you can’t pay your way through life with exposure…unless you’re already rich.

What does a 20 y/o questioning his sexuality do when lacking cash? You could get a part time job, but not in your schedule with classes and the amount they pay you’ll end up losing money. You could take up another university job, but if you were to fall behind slightly below a 2.5 then you risk losing a scholarship…and also the other campus job you have.

Me, I fucked for a college side hustle…walked guys around on leashes for a summer job…ate a few boxes for a few hundred dollars… And then there was…

“The Crying Marine”

Price: $350

Service Provided: “Deflowering”

So, this guy, we’ll call him Todd the Marine. Todd was an interesting guy. My first encounter with Todd was at a bar in Norfolk while out with a couple of friends. He was built like the stereotypical Dudebro who lifts things up and puts them down. Face of an adorable angry pit-bull…he got that sexy ugly man face going. Kind of hard to describe, like you know when you see it.

Cropped blond hair. Brown eyes that were just red for some reason. And he was just ball of negative energy. Like no vibes just rage. He didn’t talk, he fucking barked everything he had to say. And a friend of mine at the time was like:

“He’s Kind of Cute Right…”

Like no Stacey, that man was set loose by Michael Vick. You know those guys on those 60 Minute docs about the missing Girlfriend, yeah he’s the guy that did it. He did every single one of them your honor. I’m surprised there wasn’t a string a white women with podcasts searching a murder connected to him.

But my friend wanted to talk to him. So she did, he ignored the fuck out of her. She did a 180 and said his dick was small anyways…okay Stacey. Everyone else talked to him, but being the only black guy in a two pool table radius, I didn’t want to end up like fruit so I avoided him as much as possible.

THREE WEEKS LATER

I put out an AD on Craigslist because you could do that at the time…looking for my next job opportunity. Also this was before I knew about Backpage and also before I had two phones. So I had to do things the hard way. Got hit up by a bunch of strange dudes…like the older white guy who wanted to do father and son play. (Different Storytime for another day)

But, I got a notification from this one guy who was relatively normal (as in at first glance I didn’t feel like I would end up in someone’s basement). He was looking for a good night, just to fuck. Asked him what he was into, told me he just wanted to fuck. And honestly, vanilla sex and a few dollars is all I could ask for at the time.

So I get his info and his stats. He gets my stats. He tells me he’s military so he wants to keep this DL. Okay. He asked me how much…? Told him $400 but it was $250 for him as a “military discount”. He said cool and sent me the address.

I asked him if he was a Top or a Bottom…and this motherfucker was like: “I’m good with either.”

Narrator: He doesn’t know what that means…

I asked him for a pic just so I know who I’m meeting. After 20 minutes, I got 15 fucking text notifications back to back. Imagine sitting at a coffee shop, waiting for your order and your phone starts blowing up randomly. I’m thinking someone is having an emergency. Nope just a barrage of Dick and Chest.

This man sent me every torso and dick pic he could find. To this day I know every cock vein, tattoo, freckle, and birthmark this man had. I knew almost every inch of this man except for a face.

So I told him, I just needed a face pic to see who I was dealing with. A few hours later he sends me a pic in his uniform with part of his face covered. This fucker. Now, on any other day I would have just ignored this one and moved on to another hit. So I told him that unfortunately I couldn’t come over because I didn’t have a ride his way. (I could have gotten an Uber.)

He was like: “Send me your address, I’ll send one…”. Fuck. Again on any other day I would have just moved on…HOWEVER…

…I was broke. Like beyond broke. Like, I still didn’t have all my books and shit for class. Also the kitchen was starting to get bare and you can only survive on free college food for so long. That and I still hadn’t finished paying for the University Apartment for that semester.

So like the desperate college student that I was, got inside an Uber and headed to a strange man’s place at 12 in the morning. Okay, little more than just that. I did the bottom prep, made sure the balls were fresh, cock ring on, strong man pills popped, and put on my sexiest pair of lucky batman boxers. (Destroyed during a different call a year later.) And made sure that the address was for some apartments two blocks away from us.

The car ride there felt long. Like I know it was only a 15 minute ride from Norfolk to Virginia Beach, but there was an awkward silence in the back of the Uber. The guy driving didn’t say a word to me except to ask if I was “Todd”. It was weird because he would just look at me at every fucking stoplight. I would be texting “Todd” and letting him know I was on my way and I could feel someone staring daggers at me.

And when I say every stoplight, I mean I counted about 10 times he would just stare at me, grunt, and go back to driving. I took it as a sign to maybe just stay fucking quiet, or that he knew what kind of male whore was in the back of his Sudan, or maybe how he was going to cut me up in the forest.

After that awkward silent game, he grunts and drops me off. I’m at one of the military housing places. Which isn’t unusual for this part of Virginia. But it was dead silent. No cars moving, no one driving around, no movements, not a damn thing. At least when I was near my regular hood I was comforted by gunshots, police sirens, other late night degenerates. You could hear a pin drop here.

So I ring the doorbell. Nothing. Knocked. Nothing. 10 minutes go by. Nothing. So I’m just standing there cold wearing nothing but Grey Sweatpants and a windbreaker. The house I was standing in front of is dark. No movement. No sign of someone fucking around in the dark. I text him: “Hey, I’m outside…” Nothing. Wait another five minutes. Text him again: “I’m outside waiting…”. Again nothing.

Then I get a text: “I don’t see you…”

I’m looking around like maybe I fucked up somehow. I look at the address and text him again. Nothing. He tells me again he doesn’t see me. And then gonna ask me, “What address are you at?”

“…the one you gave the Uber driver…”

Nothing. Another five minutes go by with nothing. I’m fucking fed up and ready to leave with another Uber. All of a sudden I see this burly motherfucker running in my direction. This dude had on a Black Hoodie, Black pants, Black Jordans and I was preparing to say my last rites. I was preparing to fight. And I was also thinking like “damn, I’m about to get dropped…I hope my friends delete my search history…just bleach the whole laptop.”

So I put my fist up, getting my feet ready for a fight and he just stops. It’s dark so I can’t see his face entirely, but his build and hair looked familiar. But his voice, that…bark while now at a volume of 10 instead of 100 could not be mistaken. He’s doing this whole whisper talking (barking in his case) and it takes me a few to register that I am not going to end up on someone’s t-shirt.

The adrenaline kind of gave me a semi not gonna lie. I don’t know what about the idea of facing death was arousing but little Marcus was into it. So, Todd starts apologizing and telling me that this was his old address and that he moved due to some sort of electrical/plumbing issue. I’m still freezing my dick off, but told him that it was cool. And he rushes me two blocks down the street to his place.

He grabs my arm and is pulling me up the steps into his place…and I’m like oh now I’m about to die.

Instead he tosses me a beer.

“Give me a sec,”

And Todd’s just fumbling with his keys and everything else in his pockets. He’s throwing stuff on the counter, he’s kicking his shoes off, and just pretty much rampages through this house doing stuff. I’m in the living room watching this man just dash back and forth frantically while Dudebro Country is playing in the background.

After a while I don’t see him, I just can hear him grunt and mumble to himself. It sounded like he was hyping himself up but I wasn’t too sure over the Aggressive Luke Bryan blasting. And I’m still pumped from a few minutes earlier. Which is causing me to, which I didn’t know what that was at the time, do my hair rubbing/finger fidget stimming. Also the blood is flowing downstairs so I’m having a mixture of feelings.

I asked him if he was okay and if he needed any help. He just barks “I’m Good Dude, one sec…”

Narrator: Todd was not good…

So after he finishes his 50 meter dash and obstacle course he comes back and plops down beside me. Doesn’t look me in the face.

“You didn’t want the beer?”

I had honestly forgotten about it because I was too busy watching this man…do whatever he was doing. And before I could get the words out, he takes the beer out of my hand and just pops it open…and goes to town on it. But like midway through he just stops, looks at me, and hands the beer back.

“Sorry,”

TOP FIVE THINGS MARCUS IS THINKING ON THE BOARD:

1. What the fuck is wrong with this man?
2. What the fuck is the man on?
3. Why am I here again?
4. What the fuck is wrong with me?
5. Why the fuck am I turned on by this?

I just tell him that it’s cool and put the beer down…now looking for all the possible exits. Even thinking about jumping out the window if possible. But again, this semester’s debts were on the line. So I try to make small talk:

“New in town?”

“Yeah, just moved here…”

“From where…?”

“*Censor Military Base*”

“Oh, I have some family out that way…”

“Cool…”

“How long have you been in the service?”

“Four…”

“Four?”

“Yeah…four…”

“Four what?”

“What…?”

“…huh…”

*Small talk fails*

So with that interaction down. I figured, maybe he would loosen up with some foreplay. I’m rubbing on his thigh, playing with his drawstrings, stroking his chest, hell I even snuggle up to this man...takes a lot to get me to snuggle up to any dude…just trying anything to ease this man up. And it’s going well, he’s moaning and smirking. He’s fucking adorable. I get the hoodie off of him, throw my jacket off, and we’re both shirtless on his broken college sofa.

And I’m thinking, maybe we’re going to do it right here. I’m grabbing his pants, he groping at mine, and I’m like yes, fucking finally we can do this. No instead what was light foreplay, turned into be wrestled to the ground. And not playful, the couple play fight until they eventually kiss and romantically make love to each other.

NO, I’m basically in the WWE with this man. I was expecting Teddy Long to pop out and go “…for this player, you are going one on one with the UNDERTAKER.” I got fucking piledrive and put on my back. And he had this dumb excitable puppy expression on his face. I mean, Sir, you win…I tap out. And he’s just sitting on top of me breathing hard.

Big brain Marcus is just trying to figure out how this is all going to go…Small brain Marcus is fucking into this and he’s full mast. He’s a fucking problem while we’re in this predicament. So I kind of try to ease him off just a bit and I kind of grabbed at his side. He starts to whimper and bolts off of me. And knocks over one of those coffee tables that’s seen some shit.

It was like watching Dragon Ball Z and Todd just instant transmission. The fuck was that, he was just trying to go three count with me. And I’m like…

“Dude, are you okay…we can stop here…”

“No, yeah…no I’m fucking fine…I don’t like that…”

“Don’t like what?”

“I don’t like being tickled…i’m ticklish…”

“Alright, won’t do that…”

“Yeah, don’t…it’s my thing…”

At this point I was done. I was ready to go. I’m stimming now, and flustered…and this man is just a little much. I think I was going to put my jacket back on. And he just starts, whining. This groan man is whining while I’m trying to leave. And I couldn’t focus on everything he was saying but I do remember him going:

“…I thought we were having fun…I’m sorry…”

The fuck do you say to that. Like this whole night just seems to be uncomfortable to the both of us and he’s saying that. So I’m doing mental gymnastics trying to decide what my next move was, cause I don’t know what the fuck is happening.

So me being frustrated: “What do you want to do then…?”

“Fuck.”

“Okay, but what do you want to do now…”

“I thought we were going to fuck.”

…

“So what are you into?”

And with that question he just looks confused. So I go over what falls under “Fucking” which included but not limited to:

1. Oral
2. Anal
3. Handjobs
4. Rimming
5. Kissing
6. Groping

It wasn’t quite so educational, and involved a lot more crass language. But the gears started spinning, and he was fine with everything else but kissing cause that was too gay.

Narrator: …Sure Todd.

So after this cooldown, he takes me down the hall to his room and I’m just preparing for the worst from: “Don’t Tread On Me Flags”, “Brony Flyers”, “Small Armory”, “Possible Past Victims”. All four of these I’ve experienced on other occasions before.

But nope, it was just a normal “Straight” guys bedroom with limited bed sheets and no bed frame.

He helps me out of my jacket and pushes me onto the bed. And for a moment I think he wanted to go back to wrestling. Like he made the move for it, but I could see the gears turning in his head not do so. So instead he just starts yanking my shoes, socks, and pants off. And stops at my boxer briefs.

“Are those Batman…?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s cool…”

And he’s stuck like this in a trance. He keeps saying that they’re cool and I’m just ready to get tonight over with. So I go to take them off and he yanks them off now stuck looking at my cock ring. Which he starts to play with and yank on. And I tell him that stays on.

“That’s, cool…what do I do now…?”

“What do you want to do?”

“Cool cool, Can I suck it?”

“Yeah…”

And Todd does that. He wasn’t the best at it. A lot more choking and teeth than I would like, but it wasn’t the worst blowjob I’ve had. He had decent rhythm and tongue. But squeezed a little bit too firm on the boys. So he goes at. He’s way more into it than I thought he would be. He gets off of me and just looks at me.

I pull him up, trying to make sure I don’t “tickle” him. He’s shaking.

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

I get him out his bottoms and he’s just fidgeting. I’m playing with his dick, he’s at full mast, and now he’s staring up at the ceiling…fidgeting.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, small though…”

I literally had to pull it out of him what he meant. He’s…slightly below average…not small. He got decent girth though. And not even the smallest I’ve encountered.

And also to the guys reading this thinking they have a “Microdick”:

1. Not the worst thing in the world.
2. You usually are diagnosed this early in life.
3. For the sake of everyone who comes in contact with your dick, please stop comparing yourself to porn starts.
4. Dick length does not equal how good you are.

So I went to town on him. Gock Gock 9000. Tongue action. Not a single ball neglected. Throat game strong. Editor’s Translation: He’s good at giving oral.

He’s just panting, fidgeting, thrusting, and I’m giving him his money’s worth. And then he does that fucking instant transmission thing again. I almost fall back on the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t want to…”

“You want us to stop?”

“No, I didn’t want to…”

“Cum?”

“Yeah…”

Alright. So I asked him what he wanted to do next. And he just creeps back over to the bed and crawls on all four. I’m waiting for a verbal answer, and he’s just burying his head in the mattress.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Put it in gently,”

“You want me to fuck you,”

“Yeah, hurry up…”

And now he’s making demands. So I’m pulling the cheeks apart. I’m checking for brown. Everything looks and smells clean. I’m lightly massaging his taint, trying to lightly hit his prostate. He’s grunting. And I got the condom out my back pocket…but the lube I had wasn’t there. I tell him that I’m missing my lube and he goes:

“ fine, just use spit.”

No. No. Noooo. Sir, no. Spit. The fuck kind of movies are you watching. The last thing I want is ramming into this man rubbing meeting tissue and having to fight because of it. I could see all the disaster scenarios. In fact he is not the first “straight” guy to say this to me and wouldn’t be the last. But the way he was so…confident about it was…daunting.

I told him I probably dropped in the living room, and that I wasn’t going to fuck him with spit. And like a blur, almost kicking me in the head he was in the living room and back. Tossed it to me and got back in position.

“Gonna finger you first, okay?”

“Whatever just…Go…”

I didn’t want to jump in head first so I lubed up the condom, slipped it on my fingers and plunged in. Which I’m glad I did, because this man is tight. Turning coal into diamonds tight. He was not budging. And this man was talking about using spit.

“Dude, you got to relax…”

“I am…”

It took some time to coax the muscles guarding his insides but I was able to push through. A lot of Fucks were said. Followed by a lot of moans, whimpers, and a lot of movement.

“ Are you okay?”

“It’s a lot…you said you were going to use your fingers…”

“That’s what I’m using…”

“That’s your fucking fingers…”

More moans and fingering later, I get in there and hit the curve. I stroked his internal button. His doctor and I now share a bond. And Todd just panics and flails out the bed. Now I’m panicking like what the fuck just happened. He says nothing and goes to another room. I just sit there wondering what the fuck do I do now. Check the condom, no brown. Amazingly clean this guy.

He just awkwardly comes back and sits down beside me.

“I thought I was going to pee,”

“Oh…”

It took everything in me. EVERYTHING IN THIS NEURODIVERGENT BRAIN…to not laugh. Picture a thousand Marcus-es, Marcusi, Marks…trying to operate this brain and how to handle this situation. All the “masking” in the world was not going to help with this. The word “Professional” was used a lot.

“ That happens…”

So awkwardness aside, after some reassurance and hyping up…we get back into it:

Condom. On.

Lubed. Spread.

Cheeks. Also Spread.

Position. Aligned.

I let him know I’m going in right, he just grunts. I push in and I get nothing. Like I get maybe a gasp, a whimper here and there, but other than that it is just bed springs. His face is just buried into the mattress. It looked like he was biting into the bed, but I couldn’t tell. It feels like an eternity just trying to stroke on beat to College Tailgate Country. And inside I’m like:

“Sir, please give me some sort of indication of what kind of job I’m doing.”

“Or that you are alive and that I don’t end up in one of those podcast with the Wine Moms.”

But I keep going and I ask him if he’s okay. Nothing. I get a few more strokes in and I pull out. He starts to whimper for me to go back in. He’s alive that’s great. And just my luck the music changes to some R&B. Thank God for whatever corporate forces were in control of the aux. So I ask him,

“Hey, do you want me to go faster?”

“Just fuck me man.”

And fuck him I did, I hit every stroke like I was trying to get a perfect score on Just Dance. He was moaning and I was just feeling myself. Fuck how bad the early part of the night went, I felt like the sexiest fucker in the world. Inside I was just talking all kinds of shit. Some of which I will not repeat but there was a lot of Take this Dick and How do you like this Dick being said.

So my cocky ass decided to verbalize this. And…umm…the first reply I get is…

“ Yeah, *sniff* keep going…”

My brain didn’t register the sniffle. But I kept going, and I figured let’s flip this man over. Give him that leg back, ass pulled forward work. Like the ponytail girl said: Switching up positions for you. And I tell him, that I am going to take him for a ride.

And my horny and frustrated with all this work adrenaline kicked in and flipped him. First thing, I was so proud that I pulled off the move I’ve seen on the Hub. But then I see this man, on his back, flag at full mast, with just tears streaming down his face. This man was red eyed, hand covering his mouth, giving me Str8 Hell realness.

Now I know deep in the pits of my soul, that dick is not that great. Like I have, dependable dick. I have dick that is reliable. I have dick that pays the mortgage, get your tire changed, and remembers our Anniversary. I know damn well that I don’t have I will risk it all for it dick.

Except maybe on Thursday and the grey fox with the black card is talking a lot of shit in which case all bets are off. So I try to ask him:

“Oooo, hey, you good…?”

“Shut up *sniff* keep going *sniff*,”

Mind you I’m still mindlessly pounding away at this man. So I awkwardly fucked this tearful man trying to look everywhere but at him. I didn’t know you could stim during sex, but there was some of that being done on my end.

And then he starts to blubber. This man is sobbing while I’m inside him. There is no coming back from that. I was just an early twenties dumbass with troubles with handling emotions, all I knew was panic and stoicism . And luckily or unluckily stoicism won. So now he’s crying and I have emotionally unavailable Dad face, it is not a good luck for everyone.

And after a long and fucking awkward fuck, he cums sobbingly. Some got in my hair…both chest and beard hair.

I’ve now experienced “cry fucking” with him…and neither one of us can come back from that. So the usual awkward clean up session was just even more awkward. Just the sound of Baby Face…and I think he turned it back to College Country.

So I’m getting dressed and he’s…decompressing down the hall. A lot of the things being thrown around. And I’m prepping the Uber and possibly ending up on a T-shirt with the clouds on it. I make a break for it and he just blocks my way with the exit.

“Hey,”

“Hey,”

“I’m heading out,”

“Want a beer…?”

“Sure…”

I don’t think he knew he was being imposing. I just think he didn’t know how not to be imposing. But he tramples out the room and back with two beers…and we’re back on his bed again. I’m still processing what just happened. And Todd’s an unloader…he tells me everything like:

1. His Four Years In Service
2. His Life Back In The Country
3. A Very…Very…Very Problematic Childhood
4. What He Was Up To Before I Arrived
5. The Guys Trying to Set Him Up With A Girlfriend
6. His Fear of Vulnerability Which Involved The Tickling
7. Him Being Barred From A Local Bar
8. And Finally…

“didn’t eat anything because I was so nervous,”

“Yeah,”

“ never did anything like this,”

“Uh huh,”

“ didn’t think it would hurt that much,”

“Oh sorry dude,”

“naw it was good, my first time so-”

And my brain kicked back in from the unintentional autopilot. This motherfucker wanted me to fuck him with spit. I was blessed not to be painted up in brown. Who goes that long in their 20s in the military without getting fucked? Like I want better for you dudes.

“first time?”

“yeah…”

“first time with a dude?”

“ever…”

“wait, you’ve never…”

“no.”

Mentally I was done. I couldn’t process that. Fuck popping a cherry, I basically consumed it. So I asked him about if he ever tried Grindr.

“No.”

“Why not?”

And the response…

“, I’m not like those f***…”

Narrator: …oh.

So he figured he would go to Cragislist because, he heard from the guys on base that there was just a bunch of professional hoes on there. I’m glad that I was picked as professional dick to him. Also impressed that my city is known for hoeing for the military. He unloads more intimacy issues onto me including some girl name Rachel who he couldn’t get it up with. And everything after that was just white noise.

I couldn’t get the image of this dude sobbing and cumming out of my head.

I remembered him slapping the cash in my hand and saying thanks for listening. And pulling up to my apartment. The lady driving was telling me about vibrations or something involving a MLM…and the 20 steps back to my apartment. My roommate was up drunk asking me a bunch of questions and telling me about some girl who threw up on the floor.

Which I stepped in by the way.

And finished my night taking a shower and being berated by every ancestor who watched me fuck that man. But I ended up $350 richer.