[Air Force Dorms - Offutt: New Base, New Men, and narrowly avoiding the consequences of DADT) gives the backstory of Terrence catching me and getting leverage on me.
This story takes place in 2009, in the Air Force on the base called Offutt, in Nebraska. Previously, I had been spending a lot of time(Air Force Dorms: First Thanksgiving Alone... Until I Wasn't) with a young twink air_force_dorms_first_thanksgiving_alone_fucking/) and fellow airman(Air Force Dorms: First Thanksgiving Alone - Phillip) in the dorms, [Phillip](air_force_dorms_returning_the_favor_to_phillip/). However, with Thanksgiving weekend now coming to a close, Phillip and I went back to our own schedules with plans to have fun on occasion. But as the distraction of Phillip had come to a quick close, Terrence, my adult bully with blackmail over my head, returned from his Thanksgiving trip home.
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Sundays were the same for pretty much everyone. There was a rush to be the first at the laundry room, where 4 washers and 4 dryers would sit, each looking like they were made in the 80s. However, no one woke up early enough to actually be first. So around noon, there would be a flood of people to get to the laundry. Some would be rude and take others clothes out, but if someone else was there and saw it, they would call it out. The only benefit is that the laundry room was tied to the rec room, so people would play pool, foosball, watch TV, whatever. But most would put in their clothes and leave, coming back to swap.
I had been lucky and gotten up to do laundry before lunch started at the chow hall. And by lucky, I mean Phillip woke me up and we did mutual blow jobs before he went back to his room for the day. As I was returning with my overstuffed hamper of clean but unfolded laundry, I noticed my neighbor’s door, my “pissmate” with whom I share a bathroom between our rooms like a ghetto hotel, was cracked open.
Terrence… was back.
I made scarce and tried to calmly rush into my room, shutting the door quietly behind me. Hopefully, he was down at his car bringing luggage back up. It wasn’t uncommon for people to crack their doors open, so that friends could come in without needing to knock. Oftentimes, Friday and Saturday nights were all about opened and cracked doors, as small parties became larger parties as they roamed from room to room until a whole hallway or stairwell was involved. The maintenance dorm, which was across the street and attached to the chow hall, was more infamous for its hallway shenanigans, a recipe for most of the base’s sexual assault and harassment allegations. My dorm was a hodge-podge of different jobs. Intel, IT, Personnel, Maintenance overflow, even some Security Forces who were unlucky enough not to get picked to move into the brand-new dorms over the hill made for their squadron.
I stood there in my entry way (as if my room was large enough to have such a distinction) with my laundry hamper and stood in silence. Part of me was just hoping that he wasn’t in there at all, that his door was open because the dorm manager was inspecting the room or something. But it was Sunday, and the manager was off on weekends, so that was unlikely. I began anticipating an interaction with Terrence, and going through several scenarios, all of which ended with Terrence making me his human, disposable cum-rag.
Then the damnedest thing happened. As I was picturing myself in all these vulnerable scenarios, I caught myself getting turned on. I was struck with the perpetually resurfacing internal dilemma: Terrence was a homophobic, self-hating bully; he was also hot and I enjoyed the sex. I couldn’t deny the goosebumps riddling my body, my dick becoming hard, my heartbeat throbbing, and my ass began to tighten and relax.
I shook my head as if that would do anything and focused on folding my laundry. My TV had been on with the pre-game of Fox NFL for the football games at a relatively high volume. It would be suspicious if I turned it down suddenly, so I kept it going. If Terrence noticed me, he noticed me. If he got his fill back home for Thanksgiving, that also worked. Eventually he would knock, text, or call. So, I made the conscious decision to live as if he wasn’t there, which I had to learn to do with him over the last month anyways.
