I met Captain Webber at the gym on Fliegerhorst Kaserne in Hanau, Germany. Fliegerhorst was a rather secluded military base due to the military air traffic that flew in and out of the compound. When payday was weeks away and there was no money for a taxi available, I often went to the gym. There was a dry sauna at the gym that for a while seemed like my own private spa.
One evening, just after chow, I headed to the most peaceful and silent corner of the base to meditate upon the hot wooden benches inside the Sauna.
My sweaty ass nearly slipped from atop the top row of benches upon which I was meditating when the cedar door with a small glass window creaked open. A tall black man wrapped in a white towel sat quietly near a bin filled with hot lava rocks. After splashing water upon the stones, he laid his head back and closed his eyes.
I watched as beads of sweat slowly formed on his slender body. Not an inch of fat surrounded his belly, yet a droplet of sweat slowly rolled down from his protruding Adam’s apple and collected as if in a pond inside his belly button. The cool sensation caused him to suddenly flinch. Captain Webber stood up, removed his towel and retightened it around his waist.
My face must have reddened even more as I stole a glance of what was beneath his towel. I rested my face in my hand in order to assure him that I was not hanging out inside that sauna just to pick up a man. I had been there many cool evenings in Germany to get away from the drunkards in the barracks and never once did I share space in that sauna with anyone else.
Nearly a half hour passed. I could not wither inside the room any longer. I stood up, stretched my hands upward and slowly bent over to touch my toes. When I returned to a normal standing position, I noticed that Captain Webber was stealing glances my way.
Without speaking a word, he slowly lifted his towel and motioned with his chin that I should approach the erection that reached his nipples. Too hot to be hot, I just stared. He stood and slowly moved toward my pink, nervous body.
Fearful of someone looking inside the small glass window, I carefully placed my hand there and motioned with my chin, over my shoulder, for the man with coal black skin to approach me.
Without offering any penetration, as if such a pleasure was even an option for a man such as Captain Webber, he simply held my right ass check in his large right hand and masturbated, looking steadily in my eyes.
I screamed with him when he reached his climax, not from pure inner-excitement of my own, but because I was so aroused by the wedding band upon his left hand that seemed to create an illusion of fire as he moved his grip rapidly moments before my freckled back came under attack.
During the remainder of my tour in Hanau, I had numerous encounters with Captain Webber. We never engaged in any acts that involved the sharing of bodily fluids, and never did we speak a work to one another until the evening before I departed Fliegerhorst Kaserne for the last time.
“I ETS tomorrow. I’m leaving the Army. I wanted to say good-bye to you before going and let you know my name. I’m Specialist Taylor,” I said as I offered my hand to be shaken.
“Captain Webber at your service, sir,” he replied. “It was an honor to serve you,” he said as I looked deep into his eyes. He was so my type—quiet, yet forceful and married—the perfect cover. He blinked with a blush and smiled. His eyelashes were longer than a spider’s legs, and upon one of the long strands of black lash there rested a droplet of sweat that I wanted so desperately to lick with my tongue, but never was I permitted to kiss him—only to offer up my ass in a twisted game of real-time porn where I simply stood and watched carefully out that little window.