The Pursuit of Manliness
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It was patently evident to Colonel Nesmith Norman what the nawab 
was so clumsily suggesting. The pretty girl who was being presented 
to him and who was one of the nawab's many daughters borne to him 
no doubt by one of his many wives was fully at Colonel Norman's 
disposal should he so desire. This had become one of the many 
acknowledged perquisites in a career in Her Majesty's Services 
Overseas, particularly to be expected when one had the power to bring 
advantage to one of Her Majesty's imperial subjects. But the colonel 
pretended not to understand.

"She is indeed a pretty maiden," Colonel Norman agreed. "A fine 
match for any husband, I'm sure. But I think you'll find that 
everything is already in order, sir. Would there be anything else you 
desire me to know?"

The nawab seemed slightly flustered, perhaps attributing to the colonel 
the mythical reserve and prudence of his Christian overlords. Of 
course, as Colonel Norman knew, had the nawab presented one of his 
fine sons, whose manly frames stood behind their father, their bare 
breasts gleaming the keen musculature of youth and exercise, then the 
colonel's detachment would surely have deserted him. But the colonel 
was too wise to expose his sexual preferences to any of Her Majesty's 
minions, who must see only the incorruptibility of the imperial rule he 
represented. If only manliness were not also defined in terms of the 
objects of a man's desire as well as by the manliness of the man 
himself, then Colonel Norman was surely as much a man as any man 
could ask for. 

As the nawab departed, perhaps content that his daughter could be 
offered afresh to another man, Colonel Norman's eyes followed the 
bodies of the nawab's sons, his penis twitching with desire. If only 
those boys knew what it was he had hidden in his britches, who 
knows? Perhaps they would have surrendered to him the flavour and 
firmness of their bodies. A slight perspiration crossed the colonel's 
brow arising not only from the damnably wretched heat of this corner 
of Her Majesty's dominion. Those bare muscular torsos. The sun 
glancing off the hairless abdomens. They may be dark-skinned, but as 
Colonel Norman had discovered for the price of just a few paisa in the 
Calcutta slums, the colour of the skin in no way lessened the quality of 
a man's body or his sexual receptiveness.

God damn my eyes! swore the colonel to himself. He needed manual 
relief or something stronger after having tarried so long in the 
company of such fine-looking young men. But fortunately there were 
sufficient young men of similar proclivity serving Her Majesty abroad 
that such relief was never far to find.

The colonel retreated to his quarters, a relatively large room at the 
back of the barracks, within sight of his command, but a room sizeable 
enough for two serving officers of his rank. This was another 
perquisite of Foreign Service, which came with the many servants and 
the low cost of living. If only there were fewer of those damnable flies 
and mosquitoes! And so often the colonel longed for a decent spread 
of roast beef, instead of the rice-based meals that the coolies prepared 
for him.

What he needed more than even the most succulent roast beef, served 
with swede or potatoes, with a side helping of offal, was a very 
different kind of meat. But a meat that was thankfully within easy 
reach of a colonel who well knew how to apprise his men. And the 
man most fit for his carnal appetite at the moment was Corporal 
Knight, a first-rate swarthy fellow, who was most gracious to respond 
immediately to his superior officer's call, passed along to him by one 
of the colonel's servants. Colonel Norman gazed at his servant, young 
Namid, as he scurried away to summon the corporal. His servants 
were such measly weak fellows, not blessed, as the Nawab's sons 
were, with a diet that could build up their muscles to manly 
proportions. They were instead wiry, if strong. But even were the 
colonel to think well of carnal relations with his servants, he knew 
also how ill the natives oftentimes accepted it when one of their own 
was buggered by a servant to Her Imperial Majesty. Far safer, and 
indeed far more dignified, to exercise one's bodily desires with one of 
one's own kind.

"You called, sir!" said Corporal Knight, a muscular, lithe fellow, with 
golden blond hair and more than a trace of his Geordie accent 
remaining after his years of service for the Crown.

"At ease, corporal. It is service of an agreeable kind for which I have 
called you. If, that is, you have a mind for it?"

The corporal smiled grimly, seeing from his senior's recumbent pose, 
his shirt undone and his britches unbuttoned, exactly what service was 
required.

"I have a mind for it, sir. Indeed I do. I saw those fine fellows who 
accompanied the Nabob bobbin fellow, and I had half a mind myself 
to seek out a junior with whom to relieve myself. But with you, sir, it 
is always the greatest pleasure."

Words were not needed, and would even be unwelcome, as the two 
men hurriedly divested themselves of their military attire, revealing 
ripples of muscle on sculpted ribs, tight abdominals of washboard 
beauty, hard supple flesh and muscle, and then collapsed onto the 
colonel's camp bed to press their compact naked bodies against each 
other. Firm. Hard. Rippled. Tense. Their mouths met. Moustache 
against moustache, corporal against colonel, tongue entwined in 
tongue, and sweat admixed with sweat.

And the climax of all the groping and foreplay, after a scant few 
minutes while the blood engorged the organs, there they were: two 
penises, erect and pulsing. One slightly bent and somewhat thick, the 
glans easily pushing back the foreskin and pulling taut at the hairy 
scrotum in which his balls were straining to release, but not quite yet, 
the fruits of Onan's seed. And the colonel's own, much prouder even 
than his corporal's, a goodly length, perhaps a whole foot in length 
when erect, correctly proportioned and throbbing with energy and 
unreleased spunk. The colonel was proud of his member, his Peter, his 
John Thomas, his manhood, his pride and joy, a marvel for anyone, 
but especially another man whose tastes were attuned to the glory of 
manly abundance.

And then, the corporal took the colonel's penis in his mouth, the 
whole of it unlikely to get far inside, relishing its mighty masculinity, 
as throbbing and as proud as any part of a man, his moustache 
brushing against the length of it, while the colonel stood up, holding 
the corporal's head in his broad palms, his fingers running through the 
thick mass of blond hair, using the ears as handles to secure the head 
in place, his manhood sucked and licked and nibbled as energetically 
as the corporal could. 

Of course, rank meant that Colonel Norman would not be able to take 
the corporal's penis into his own mouth. Nor could it ever be 
permitted that he be the recipient of the glorious act of sodomy that 
culminated every session of lovemaking. This was only right and 
proper, although there was never a written law of conduct relating to 
homosexual acts in the British Imperial Army. A colonel can bugger a 
corporal, but a corporal could never bugger a colonel. Similarly, a 
lieutenant could bugger a sergeant but never a sergeant a lieutenant. 
And for that matter, Corporal Knight could bugger his infantrymen, 
but they could never bugger him.

And so too, today. Corporal Knight assumed the position, Colonel 
Norman behind him, his huge member prised for action, swelling with 
lust and desire, and then straight into Corporal Knight's patient anus, a 
hole designed for so much more than defecation, and pleasured by the 
prostrate gland, nature's bounty not bequeathed on the weaker sex. 
And with pleasure there is always pain, as Colonel Norman knew well, 
but in this case, the pleasure was all his as he pounded away in the 
willing orifice, lubricated by the shared saliva of the two soldiers, and 
the pain was almost entirely the corporal's, whose anus had to 
accommodate a much larger member than God had perhaps originally 
intended when he designed it to take as well as to give. 

Sometimes, and this was one of those times, Colonel Norman 
wondered what it might be like to be on the receiving end of lust. It 
was such a long time since he served with a more senior officer than 
he, possessed of similar appetites. He had near forgotten what 
reciprocal love was like. His own anus had received only what he 
chose to insert of his making, and he was sure it had now lost the 
elasticity it once had when he was the darling of senior officers or 
indeed when he was at school and gladly allowed the prefects to take 
their turns on his recumbent arse. Although, ironically, it was not his 
arse, but his magnificent proof of manliness that had made him so 
popular. Indeed, Colonel Norman was not so vain as to not recognize 
that his rapid ascent through the ranks to colonel in this quiet posting 
in the great subcontinent owed a great deal to the willingness he had 
shown in satisfying the carnal lust of his superiors and to the true 
splendour of his manhood.

But as Colonel Norman was aware, as he pushed frantically into 
Corporal Knight's arse, one hand gripping his subordinate's penis, and 
his other holding himself up against falling over, he was the most 
senior officer in this posting and it was not likely he would again meet 
more senior officers until he was transferred to a more challenging 
posting. Out here in a province few, including him, could properly 
pronounce, and which could only be reached by several days' very 
slow steam train ride and a day's ride on a wagon, there was no one 
who could service his arse.

And then both corporal and colonel ejaculated simultaneously, semen 
spurting from two penises, one, the corporal's, free and able to arc 
high into the air and onto the wooden floor, whilst the colonel's was 
released into the corporal's arse, from whence it would soon bubble 
out and ooze down his legs. And then long after anal intercourse was 
just a memory, there might be a trace of semen in the corporal's shit, 
wisps of manhood's fruit scattered in the chamber pot as he adjusted 
his night gown, perhaps before sharing his bed with one of his 
privates: perhaps even young Private Godley, who was indeed a Godly 
looking fellow and whose arse had often been the object of the 
colonel's own pleasuring.

After their energetic tryst, colonel and corporal lay collapsed on the 
colonel's bed, the weave matting beneath the mattress being just stout 
enough to support two manly fellows and indulged in the small 
conversation that happened so rarely between soldiers and only made 
possible by the inexplicable emotion of unmanly tenderness that 
overtakes a fellow after he has released his seed. 

"So, is it true, sir, that we are to have two colonels soon?"

"Two colonels, Corporal Knight? Just what do you mean? Is this some 
devilish riddle with which you entrance me?"

"Have you not heard then, sir? It is said that there will be another 
colonel serving here. It's because they intend to bring the railway 
nearer this town. The Nabobs and the rest have been very eager on 
this. And with more commerce, comes more need for authority. And 
so, sir, there is need for more people in authority."

"No, I had not heard, corporal. Is this not always the way that the news 
travels? First to those fellows who need to know the least before it 
reaches the one who most needs to know."

"I'm sorry, sir. I thought you already knew."

"You're excused, corporal. But I best investigate it myself. There are 
many false rumours spread throughout the empire and the furthest 
from Her Majesty the Queen the more false and unfounded these 
rumours must be."

Colonel Norman wondered whether he didn't actually welcome more 
companionship. Another colonel would be fair company. Too often, 
he felt forlorn by virtue of having no one of similar rank with which to 
share confidences. But on the other hand, he knew only too well that a 
bare minority of his fellows in the armed forces took a sympathetic 
position towards the mutual exercise of manly lust between men. This 
was a sizeable minority, needless to say, but one that had to remain 
discreet, as there were others in the ranks who could ruin a man's 
military future simply because his pursuit of manliness extended 
beyond duty to the Crown and the rigours of military engagement.

His anxiety was heightened further by the simple reflection that in the 
military compound there was unlikely to be a bending of the rules that 
specified that officers of the rank of colonel or below should share a 
room with another of the same rank, unless the accommodation were 
not sufficiently substantial for two such officers to share. And it was 
clear to Colonel Norman as he surveyed his bedroom, that there was 
plenty of spare space to accommodate another colonel.

When Colonel Nigel Nichols arrived, he was without doubt a fine 
specimen of a man and pleased indeed to discover such a handsome 
room to share with Colonel Norman. His last boarding in the deep 
jungles of Southern India had been hellish and cramped. Only the 
death rate kept the predicament of overcrowding at bay. But, as far as 
Colonel Norman could see, Colonel Nichols had escaped the ravages 
of malaria and other tropical illnesses wholly unscathed.

"So what do fellows do of an evening, Norman?" Colonel Nichols 
asked of his fellow roommate. "Is there a town near here with fine ale 
and a good whorehouse?" 

"There are not many places where one can find good ale, Nichols, but 
there are many where one can satisfy one's lust for the  . uh . fairer 
sex."

"The fairer sex, you say, Norman. Jolly good idea! Shall we make a 
toast to the fairer sex? And shall we this evening seek out their 
company?"

This was what Colonel Norman dreaded. At first, he had been 
delighted by the sight of Colonel Nichols. What a fine man he was! 
And, by all accounts, a fine soldier too. The additional lower ranking 
servicemen destined to be brought in to the area would be well 
commanded. And there might even be a call for a more senior ranking 
officer than colonel to command the barracks, now that commerce was 
due to make the town prosper more. All that cotton and iron destined 
for the many corners of the British Empire! But now, a fellow who 
sought to dip his stick only in the oily, hairy craw of a prostitute's 
cunt. What a waste of a man's manhood! 

However, the colonel was wary about betraying his lack of interest in 
women when he wasn't confident what the other soldier might think. 
He knew that many took a lack of passion in the weaker, fey sex as 
indicative of a weakness in oneself and Colonel Norman could not 
abide that.

"Yes indeed! A toast to the fairer sex!" said Colonel Norman without 
conviction, opening a bottle of malt whiskey and pouring it into two of 
the small glasses that he owned that otherwise would be used to hold 
tea.

From Colonel Norman's perspective, a night out in the brothel was 
unlikely to be a success, but he took along with him not only Colonel 
Nichols, but several of the more junior officers whose very lack of 
sexual adventurousness meant that he had much neglected them over 
the year. It was on their recommendations that he and Colonel 
Nichols, together with these officers, took a rickshaw to a gaudy 
brothel, brightly lit candles everywhere, there to be offered alcohol, 
opium, marijuana and women.

Colonel Norman indulged in alcohol, he smoked some opium, but he 
ignored the women as best he could. It was difficult to avoid them, of 
course, as they fell all over him, their bosoms bare and their nipples 
showing, sometimes opening wide their legs to reveal a hairy 
nothingness where surely a something should be. Skinny, scrawny, 
dark-skinned native girls who spoke execrable English and those few 
words they knew seemed to be only to do with sex. 

"You want fucky fucky?" one girl asked Colonel Norman, while 
Colonel Nichols was regarding him, three girls with their arms around 
him and one of them with a hand already inside his britches. Colonel 
Norman looked across at his fellow soldier, who smirked in a jovial 
self-satisfied way, and conjectured more on the size of the member the 
girl had uncovered than he did on anything else.

"You got big dicky!" exclaimed the girl fondling inside Colonel 
Nichols' britches. "Want fucky fucky? Three girl. Good price."

"Yes, by God I do!" said Colonel Nichols with a grin. He stood up, 
with two girls around his shoulders, and the third still with a hand 
inside his britches. They gradually slithered into more comfortable 
positions. "How about you, Norman? You want to join these three fine 
hussies? Or do you want to stay with your own little flower?"

There was probably a note of irony in Colonel Nichols' remark, 
because the three most attractive girls the madam had supplied the 
officers were the three who had gravitated around Colonel Nichols, 
perhaps scenting his masculine potency, whilst after the other officer's 
were allocated prostitutes, the one left for Colonel Norman was surely 
the most unhealthy and scrawny of them all. Madame Seth's whores 
had a nose for a man's eagerness for sex with women sharper than 
Colonel Norman's own for men who wanted sex with other men,

"I'll be fine, Nichols. You go ahead and enjoy yourself. I shall stay 
here with my own little fucky fucky."

"Well, best of luck, Norman old boy," said Colonel Nichols making 
his way with the three whores clinging to him and his clothes, whilst 
the one grasping the colonel's erect member was excitedly discussing 
it with her two colleagues.

Colonel Norman had no appetite for sex with the whore who had 
assigned herself to him, but he was far too gentlemanly not to pay for 
her services even though he had no intention of actually using them, 
He let her idle with his penis, which under her ministrations 
steadfastly refused to get erect, while listening to the punctuated gasps 
and shrieks and groans coming from the room, and the bed within it, 
where Colonel Nichols was taking full advantage of the three whores 
who had attached themselves to him.

At one stage, Colonel Norman even saw Colonel Nichols, fully naked, 
his fine member displayed, as he stood at the doorway of the room 
where his whores still lay on the bed, and ordered some more wine 
from the coolie who was sitting on a chair waiting for just such 
commands.

"Why, hello there, Norman old chap!" he roared, his penis erect and a 
full foot in length, the size (would you believe it!) of Colonel 
Norman's own member when erect. But not now, of course, as it 
limped sorrowfully over the side of the divan where he sat, not so 
much spent as unused. "Done and dusted?"

"Indeed, Nichols!" Colonel Norman lied. "And a fine wench she was 
too!"

Later, back at the barracks, Colonel Norman was feeling very much 
frustrated. He'd had his penis twiddled and twisted so much by the 
young whore that it was sore and raw, but it had not fully come to life 
and it most certainly hadn't relieved itself. What was even worse was 
that in this moment of dire need for release with a willing soldier, the 
colonel was to be sharing his room with another whose appetite was 
quite clearly for women. An appetite he learnt had been well sated 
with the three hussies with whom he had entrusted his need for 
gratification.

The rickshaw driver ran off, carrying his now empty carriage behind 
him, while Colonel Norman contemplated whether he could risk a 
visit to Corporal Knight or even Private Godley. But he decided 
against it. Instead, he meekly followed his fellow colonel into their 
quarters and collapsed on the bed.

"Damned fine whores, Norman old boy!" exclaimed Colonel Nichols 
pulling off his shirt with just one vigorous pull, and standing bare-
chested in only his britches and bare feet. Colonel Norman gulped 
involuntarily as he regarded the sculpted torso of his equal ranking 
officer.

"Indeed they were!" lied Colonel Norman. "Damnably fine!"

His mind however was focused on the descent of Colonel Nichol's 
britches, under which he could see the bulging cock pressing against 
the cloth. And soon they were off, and Colonel Nichols stood naked 
and unembarrassed by his bed, his penis still half-erect sprinkled with 
a light powdering which no doubt was what was left of the semen and 
female orgasm that had earlier lubricated it. Colonel Nichols strode 
naked over to Colonel Norman and stood in front of him, that half-
erect penis so temptingly close to his eyes. And such a magnificent 
penis! Surely a cock of proportions at least equal to his own.

"Norman old boy!" laughed Colonel Nichols. "You don't deceive me 
one whit."

"What do you mean, old chap?" asked Colonel Norman raising his 
eyes up to gaze into his colleague's face.

"Don't be a silly ass, old boy! You don't care for the whores of the 
town at all, do you? Least of all, the hussy who pulled your pecker. 
You are, if I am not very much mistaken, a meat and potatoes man. 
Am I not right?"

"I'm sorry, old boy. I'm not sure I understand you right," countered 
Colonel Norman, nonetheless reddening with the same girlishness as a 
virgin boy.

Colonel Nichols placed a firm hand under Colonel Norman's chin, the 
grip as strong and virile as the member twitching in front of his eyes. 
"Don't be so coy, Norman old boy. I'm a man of the world. I've 
worked my way through the ranks and I've had some devilish 
postings. I've fucked my way through the ranks, too. I'm a man who 
likes his meat and potatoes. But I also like a little salad. Perhaps with 
rich sauce. And when I first saw you, God damn my eyes, I knew you 
were a man who liked a man."

"You like meat and potatoes too?" asked Colonel Norman 
tremulously. "As much as buttered oyster?"

"More so, Norman my good man. The fair sex make a good aperitif, 
but they scarcely make for a full serving. I like my main course to be 
hot and lean and strong and firm."

Colonel Norman took his fellow colonel's testicles in the cup of his 
hand, and feeling no resistance, he guided the length of the twitching 
member towards his mouth. "I like my meat to be well-cooked and 
properly peppered!" he commented before taking as much as he could 
into his mouth of the colonel's twitching, throbbing, swelling member. 

As is always the case when two gentlemen are engaged in serious 
intercourse with each other, now was not the time for idle chatter. 
Now was the time for Colonel Norman to divest himself of his 
raiments, his penis already up and bouncing with joy, the blood 
engorging it fit to burst, as he and his colleague sucked and fisted and 
pummelled and squeezed and pulled at each other. Two manly bodies 
at the height of virility, battling to maximise the pleasure from each 
other. 

Had Colonel Norman ever seen a cock as handsome and proud and so 
worthy of the honour of manhood as the one presented to him by 
Colonel Nichols? Not for many years, he was sure. It was too large to 
fit in his mouth, as much as for his own cock, bursting with virility, 
was too large to do more than tickle his fellow soldier's tonsils. But 
that cock, so much meat, so raw and hot and warm, even with the faint 
taste of pussy garlicking it, was a treat to relish, and one he wanted to 
relish again.

"My arse is ready, old boy," invited Colonel Nichols. "A bit of spit 
and polish and we can dip the sausage."

"No fear, old chap!" exclaimed Colonel Norman. "Yours is an arse 
whose flavour I wish to savour later. First take my own. But be 
careful, it's not been as used as a soldier's should be. Rank has its 
rewards but it has its penalties. Spare not the spit and push your cock 
in as far as the devil allows."

"Well, Norman old boy!" Colonel Nichols declared, when his penis 
pushed harder and harder into the open cavern of the anus. "Hardly 
ever have I entered such a welcome portal. Yours is an arse that may 
not have received as many as visitors as it might, but is willing to put 
on a goodly and inviting spread."

Colonel Norman grunted with orgasmic delight, his penis spurting 
free, arcs of semen spurting up and over onto the parquet floor, while 
inside him he could feel that warm release of semen from Colonel 
Nichols, his prostrate gland nearly bursting with ecstasy. And as his 
fellow colonel's penis pummelled afresh, and yet more of his own 
semen spurted out and painted afresh the floor, and the warmth of the 
colonel's semen dripped down through the hair of his thighs, the 
colonel felt that at last he had found the true object of his vocation. It 
wasn't manly endeavour alone he had sought in Her Majesty's service, 
but the pleasure of manliness itself. And where better could it be 
found than in being fucked by a man so manly as Colonel Nichols?