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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Marines, The (gay)
Anon NixPixer (c) 1992
*
Jack Brandon tilted his utility cap back, wiping the sweat off his
forehead with the back of one hand. Squinting his eyes he
peered through the tornado like clouds swirling behind the bus.
"Goddamned Reservists," he said to himself, tugging his cap back
down to protect his face from the desert sun. Mid-July, and he and
his men had to drive up from Colorado to this godforsaken hole
in the middle of the Mojave to train some damned weekend
warriors. Frowning, Jack watched the two Greyhound buses rumble
slowly across the rutted compound area, stopping in front of the
first of four interconnected quonset huts. The big UDT specialist
shifted position, thinking about what he was supposed to be doing
today and feeling his cock thickening, stirring in his jockstrap.
Shit! He was supposed to be on his way to L.A. today. Four
months of ball breaking training in that goddamned little shit
Amphibious Base in Colorado.
Four months of running through beach and sand carrying a phone
pole with five other UDT specialists; four months of eight hour
workouts, three mile swims with full fusing and defusing gear
strapped to his wetsuit; four months of so many damned obstacle
and firing courses one started to look and feel like the other.
His cock ached for a good, hot tight ass to slip into. But he was
too damned tired to do anything when there was that rare hour or two
of spare time.
At night Jack lay in his rack, his fingers curled tight around his
rod, his hand jerking up and down so fast his nuts bounced
back and forth like rubber balls. He'd shift hairy butt back and
forth, lubing his shaft with pre-cum that oozed from his piss slit,
thinking about how nice a warm pair of smooth buns would feel
rubbing up and down against his crotch.
Four lousy months of that crap and finally he had a chance to get
away for a weekend. One day before he was scheduled to leave to C.
O. came into his office and handed him a note. Some damned Reserve
unit from Long Beach was going to go through modified survival
training in the desert. He was picked along with five others to
head up the training program.
Jack smiled grimly as the buses squealed to a halt. They'd get a
training program they'd never forget. There'd be no holds barred
for this group. Wiping the sweat from under his eyes he
walked up to the group of Reservists just starting to climb out of
the buses.
I'm Commander Brewer," a tall, slightly overweight commander in
starched utility greens said stepping from the growing crowd
gathering around the first quonset hut. Jack shook hands, taking
note of the smooth feel of the C.O.'s palms. The UDT specialist
smirked, wondering how long those neatly pressed greens and the
man in them would last in hundred degree plus temperatures.
"Petty Officer First Class Brandon. I'm here with five of my men
to give you a good workout," he said, smiling as he looked over
the group of now nearly fifty men. For Reservists they weren't too
bad. There were one or two fat ones who'd give him trouble, he
knew. They'd probably crap out on the first all day hike. He'd
take care of their case fast enough.
"Not much of a camp, is it Brandon?" the commander asked.
"Not much," Jack echoed. His eyes followed Brewer's, taking in
the flat, barren, bleached white ground rising slightly to
the east and ending abruptly some twenty miles away at the foot of
the Chocolate Mountains. A ten foot wire fence surrounded the
camp, giving it the appearance of the deserted desert concentration
center. Jack thought about L.A. again, felt his cock harden a
little more and his nuts press up against his dickroot. He groaned
inwardly.
"I've got eleven officers and fifty-eight men here," Commander
Brewer said after an uneasy silence passed. "You've got enough room
here for us?"
"Housing's in the first quonset hut, commander," Jack said in a
droning voice. He was looking at someone who had caught his eye
seconds ago. An officer, a lieutenant! Damn, and he was probably
straight too! Well, it wouldn't have done any good if he were as
gay as a goose.
Where the hell could they sneak away to do anything out here anyway,
behind the cactus? Still, as the tall blond lieutenant moved
through the troops who by this time had all debarked, Jack felt his
pulse quicken and his cock stretch out to its full hard seven
inches. It strained against the ribbed material of the pouch of
his jockstrap, throbbing as if a hot, wet mouth had just finished
sucking him off.
The big stud sucked in a deep breath, turning away and walking up
to the door of the first hut. GOTTA THINK OFFICIALLY, he said to
himself, opening the door and feeling a cool blast of damp air hit
his face. Immediately he felt the taut flesh relax.
"It's not the Hilton, Commander but it'll do," Jack said, stepping
back and letting the troops file in. A row of iron bunkbeds
lined either side of the hut. Jack smiled with amusement as he
saw the disappointed looks of the Reservists. They'd be
bleating to come back here in a few days. "Officers and men sleep
together. There's not room to separate, Commander. I'm down at the
end of the passageway through that door," he said, pointing
forward. "The rest of the troops are in the second hut to the right
at the end, through the corridor and kitchen," Jack explained.
No, there wasn't anyone else who interested him particularly. It
was just that lieutenant now stepping through the doorway
talking animate with a lieutenant commander. Jack leaned
against one of the bunks, biting his lower lip and staring up at the
fluorescent lights.
"When are we going to get the training briefing, Brandon?"
Jack hadn't heard the question. He was watching the blond
officer with growing fascination. Everything about him seemed
to have an almost unnatural vitality. The way he walked,
talked, moved his arms as if that motion could drive the words
into the listener attracted Jack. His handsome smooth face
glowed with health and animation. Too bad he was straight. Shit,
that was always his luck! He went after the straight ones all the
time. No wonder he spent his time in the rack beating off.
"Brandon, didn't you hear me? When are we going to have our
training briefing?"
"Sorry, Commander," Jack said, a little nonplussed. He realized
he'd been staring. That was dumb thing to do. Al he needed was
to be caught. He could kiss his career goodbye. "I've got to
talk to my men, but probably in an hour. We've got the briefing
room set up. Just have to get out the ammo and other pyrotechnics
and we're ready to go."
"Sounds good. Oh I'd like to meet our training officer. You'll be
working with him for the next two weeks," Brewer said, turning
around and talking to someone. "This is Ron Farraday. He used
to be an active duty UDT. Just got out."
Hell, it was the blond lieutenant he'd been staring at! How
was he supposed to work with this number when his cock was
practically popping out of his pants? Thank God the jockstrap was
still holding!
"Hi," Ron said in a friendly way, his eyes open, no trace of
surprise, admiration or disapproval. His grip was firm, brief,
everything it should be and everything he didn't want.
"Come on. I'll show you the camp," Jack said, feeling a shudder
ripple through his body. Every step he took ribbed his hard
dick against his hairy legs. He could feel Ron Farraday's body
exerting itself under his already, feel his smooth legs
struggling while his hands parted his buns and his fingers inched
down into the smooth asshole. Those were dangerous thoughts. He
could imagine the court martial following that kind of rape. Fucking
an officer? No way!
"Like I said, down this way's my space," Jack began, walking down
the tiled passageway. On either side of him of the Reservists
were already noisily unpacking, throwing their clothes and
toiletries in the battered metal lockers that stood between each
bunk, laughing loudly about what a hole they thought this place
was. That was good. Jack sensed a feeling of camaraderie in this
unit, a feeling they'd need as the weeks dragged by.
"Where's the kitchen? I'd like to get my supply types going
unloading food. It's been a long trip up here and the men are
hungry," Ron said cheerily from behind.
"I'll come to it in a second, lieutenant," Jack said, feeling
his dick stiffen up again. They walked to the end of the corridor,
turned right and passed a communal shower and shitter. No
partitions, no anything except one bare light bulb badly
lighting the area. Well, he told them they weren't at the Hilton.
"Kitchen's good, big," Ron commented as they entered a brightly
lighted area. The sharp smell of disinfectant still hung in
the air. Wooden backed chairs were stacked on top on five tables
pushed to the side for the time being. Large air cooler units
droned noisily in all the windows, sending a steady breeze of
damp air across the dining area. Off to the right a large
kitchen boasted of two reefers, one stove, a double basin sink
and enough counter space to prepare a banquet on. All the equipment
was vintage World War II, scratched, dented, badly in need of
repair but scrubbed clean. Jack and his men had been busy the
previous day preparing for this Reservist onslaught.
"Good, great," Commander Brewer muttered as he surveyed the space.
Jack folded his thick muscled arms across his chest, cautiously
staring at Ron who was now examining the kitchen space. Yeah, he
was one of the best looking numbers he'd run across in a long,
long, long time! Lieutenant Farraday was just the kind of man
Jack liked, smaller than he was, but still masculine. Tall, a
little thinner than Jack, he nevertheless was solidly built.
Every move he made indicated self assuredness, self
confidence, a sense that the man knew what he wanted and would go
after it without hesitation. The baggy though starched greens
revealed little about his build. But Jack was fairly sure it was
tightly packed, well defined, hard muscled enough to make him
watch himself at all times. He couldn't let himself at all times.
He couldn't let himself lose control out here.
"I'd like to go outside now, Commander Brewer said, signaling with
a hand movement for Ron to follow.
They stepped from the dining room out into the midday hell of the
Mojave. Jack could smell the mesquite trees as they baked in the
hot sun. Shit, even the earth was burning under the relentless
light and heat. The sky overhead was a deep blue, the right shade
Jack has seen on glazed porcelain once or twice. The air burned his
lungs as he inhaled sharply and squinted back at Ron and the
commander.
"Always get this hot?" Commander Brewer asked, looking around
at the surrounding wasteland.
"It's late July, Commander. Temperatures get up to one hundred
twenty some days," Jack said off handedly.
Brewer walked to the fence, surveying the small camp silently.
"It's pretty much what I expected," Ron said, drawing up close to
Jack and looking around with interest.
The intense dry heat had taken some of the edge off his sexual
interest in the lieutenant. But it was there, poking its
head up and grinning sheepishly at him. Damn! While Ron looked
about, Jack studied him more closely than before. His short,
trimmed hair made his finely chiseled features appear almost
delicate. There was the attraction! It was the contrast between
those features and the obvious strength and vitality that made Ron
Farraday so damned attractive! His gray eyes were framed by light
brown eyebrows and barely visible long lashes. A thin yet full,
neatly trimmed moustache completed the officer's face. It was a
face radiating intelligence, insight, shrewdness. Jack shifted
his feet uneasily as he felt his chest tighten.
"We've got a forty mile river trip planned. Did the inflatable
rafts get here?" Ron asked, turning and facing Jack suddenly.
"Uh, yeah. They came yesterday. I've got them in the storage area."
He had to watch himself! The lieutenant caught him staring hotly
at him.. Right now that could be passed off as innocent curiosity.
Those dark gray eyes flicked with amber, the thin, slightly upward
curving lips, the long straight nose that added strength to a
delicate face, all of it made Jack nervous. This was going to
be a long two weeks. Dropping his eyes he stared for a second at
Ron's fly. Nothing, but nothing to see with those damned baggy
greens! He'd have to sneak around and catch him in the shower.
"Let's go on, gentlemen," Commander Brewer called out.
The group of three walked slowly along the outer base perimeter.
To the east the land stretched barrenly up to the Chocolate
Mountains, brown peaks looking like something from a moonscape.
"We're scheduled for a four hour hike tomorrow, isn't that right,
Brandon?" the senior officer asked as he squinted at the jagged
peaks baking in the sun. "Right along the base of those things," he
added.
"Yes, sir," Jack said, moving up beside Commander Brewer, glad
he could take his mind off Lieutenant Farraday. "According to our
plans you'll be moving out from the camp through the gate and up
alongside the canal."
"Canal?"
Ron standing on the other side of Jack, one arm brushing lightly
against his side as he too stared at the bleached landscape
yawning in front of them.
"The Great American Canal," Jack explained. His cock was stretching
again, getting good and hard and for no goddamned good reason!
The big petty officer shifted his weight, pointing one finger at a
rise of land running from near the base of the Chocolate
Mountains past the camp, turning and stretching north to the
horizon. "Brings water down from the foothills to L.A. If you get
lost all you have to do find the canal and it'll take you right home.
"
"That shouldn't be too hard to do," Commander Brewer said, laughing
softly. He was sweating, his uniform becoming spotted with dark
green patches of perspiration. He looked uncomfortably at Ron
Farraday, rubbing the dust from his nose.
"I want to teach your men something about survival, commander,"
Jack said, growing serious. Commander Brewer signaled
impatiently, still trying to catch Ron Farraday's eye and signal an
end to this indoctrination. "That's what I've been trained to do.
But also want to teach them something about the land, about
themselves."
The three of them stood silently for several seconds, sweat
streaking their faces. The slamming of one of the quonset hut
doors broke the silence. Ron turned, his face darkening almost
immediately when he saw LCDR Richard Jackson ambling toward
them. Jack caught the lieutenant's change in expression. His
eyes followed Ron's and he saw an overweight senior officer
approaching them. Everything about LCDR Jackson indicated he was
uncomfortable not only with himself but with everyone and
everything he met. He wore an expression wavering between
dissatisfaction and pain that rarely if ever left his face. Now
he appeared as if someone had told him he had to march with full
pack on his back tomorrow over the mountains. As he started to
speak one of his gold oak leaves tumbled off his collar and landed
at Ron's feet. The young lieutenant bent over, scooping it up and
incidentally providing Jack with a brief glance at his ass. NICE,
TIGHT, ROUND FUCK! he thought to himself, pushing his legs
farther apart to accommodate his hardening rod. Already he could
feel jizz oozing up from his fat balls and burning into the mushroom
head. Hell, he was going to be pounding his rod all night. He'd
have to check the ceiling the next day to make sure he got all the
jizz up. His lips curled up into a cynical smile at the
exaggeration.
"You dropped something," Ron said dryly, handing Jack the dusty
officer device.
Later that day during the exercises in the field;
"Hold you fire," Ron shouted, scooting back behind the first
flank and crawling in the middle of his circling men. There
were a few bursts of automatic rounds that followed his order, then
silence. Ron could hear his heart pounding . It was Nam all over
again, the brain bleaching sun, the scorched air that seemed to burn
your lungs when you breathed.
"I think that cocksucker's through with us," Lt. King whispered.
Ron smiled at the young lieutenant's remark. He knew King was more
correct than he could have dreamed. Yes, he'd like to have Jack's
mouth sliding on his dick, that bushy black moustache tickling
his balls. He knew the score, knew what Brandon was after. He also
knew Jack was holding back for the same reason he said nothing
to encourage the petty officer. The firing, the fighting, the
explosions brought Jack closer to his mind. That was something that
wasn't hard to do. Brandon was everything he admired in men,
string, determined, a man with a powerful will and the courage to
follow it through. He could sense it in Jack. And this
skirmish symbolized the contest of body and mind he liked before,
during and after fucking. Yeah, he'd seen that big hard-on
between Brandon's legs. Jack had thought he'd hidden it. But
Ron had caught it all in a glimpse. Christ, he was big cocked,
probably having a set of heavy hanging balls to match.
"Your old man's passed out," Jack said, breaking into Ron's
fantasy. The heat was getting to him as well. "The
Executive Officer's okayed us callin' the exercise off. I can't
get any help 'cept our two jeeps. The other group sounds worse off
than you."
"The C.O.'s sick?" Jackson said asked.
Ron saw that Jackson was nervous.
"Alright, come on. The party's over. Leave the packs out here.
We'll get them later," Ron shouted, waiving one arm over his
head and leading the column back through the desert to camp.
When they finally trudged through the wire gates into the compound
the men broke into a run, some of them heading for the water
tank while others stumbled up the steps to the air cooled quonset
hut. Ron headed for the water tank pulling off his cap and
sticking his head under the clear stream.
"Alright, don't waste the water. Come on, we've got the showers,"
he said after taking a good long drink.
Jack went to his quarters, pulling off his boots then
falling back exhausted in his bunk. One hand touched the floor
while the other rested comfortably on his chest. Shit, he
smelled of dust. That damned desert got into everywhere, even his
crotch. He could feel his cock moving around in grit packed into
the pouch of his jockstrap. He'd shower later. Right now all he
wanted to do was sleep. Even thoughts of Ron didn't float
across his mind as he wiped more dust from his eyes. Peace and
quiet! Lights still flashed in front of his eyes, phantom light
from the glare just outside. His skin seemed to drink in the cool
dampness created by the cooler humming nearby. Damn, it was good
in here, almost like a castle. He scratched his balls, spread his
legs and closed his eyes. He'd have to talk to Ron and the
other officers later. They couldn't keep up their program and
expect their men to stand it. But that was later. All he needed
now was about eight hours of sleep.
Outside things weren't so calm. Three more men had collapsed from
the heat while inside. Lt. King wasn't looking too well
himself and had to be dragged to the showers to cool down. Ron did
his best to reassure the men that the program would change.
Twice he tried talking to the commanding officer. But Commander
Brewer was out. When he awoke once or twice he acted like
someone drugged. Ron sighed, determined to speak to him the
moment his mind cleared.
The shower was cluttered with the men who hadn't collapsed.
They were laughing now, drinking the water, soothing their
burned flesh under the drops as they talked about how they'd "made
it." Muddy water gurgled down the drain. Ron, like Jack, decided
to wait for his shower, collapsing in his bunk. Well, if there
were more marches like this one he wouldn't have to worry about his
cock giving him away. He'd be too fucking exhausted to do
anything. Closing his eyes he felt a warm fuzziness drift over him.
The young officer had no idea how long he'd been asleep. When
he awoke there was only the sound of uneven snoring blending with
the constant hum of the air coolers. Everyone had showered or
was still semi comatose. Time for his shower.
He stripped quickly, grabbing his towel and soap and padding to the
narrow shower area. THE GAS CHAMBERS IN GERMANY MUST'VE LOOKED
LIKE THIS, he thought as he hung up his towel and stepped onto the
slick concrete floor. One dim yellow light illuminated the bare
area. Behind him the doorless toilets squatted, paper nearly
touching the wet floor from the racks.
Turning on the water Ron groaned, letting the cool shower wash
his flesh clean of the caked on dirt. The young man felt
ecstatic, so much so he didn't notice the sound of Jack's door
closing.
FEELS LIKE A SWAMP, Jack thought to himself as he approached the
shower area. He heard the water running and thought nothing of
it. Jack slipped the towel off and hung it up next to the only
other one there.
He stopped in the doorway, his eyes focusing on that tight set
of round buns shining with water. That broad back, the
long legs, the wide shoulders, it had to be Ron Farraday! Jack's
chest tightened, choking off a sharp breath he'd started to suck
in. His fingers were working against his hairy thighs as he
watched the officer move sensuously under the running water,
unaware he was being watched from behind. Jack saw a river of
water cascading down the small of Ron's back, gathering just above
his buttocks and rushing into that narrow, hairless crack. He
licked his lips, wanting to kneel down behind the young officer,
grab his ass and shove his tongue in that crack until he touch his
shitter!
"How's it goin'?" Jack blurted out, stepping into the small shower
room and turning on the water. He pretended not to care about
Ron as he stepped under the cascading shower, letting the water
plaster down his black hair.
Ron froze, then turned and grinned. He'd wondered what would
happen if he and Jack had met in circumstances like this. Well,
nothing had happened. They were talking about the day's hike, about
how stupid it was to plan any more of them.
Each realized the other was growing more interested in his body
as the conversation progressed. But neither Jack nor Ron indicated
anything more that friendliness.
"We'll talk about it later," Ron said, turning off the water and
stepping out of the room. "It's all yours," he said, starting
to wipe off. His hair was soaked, dripping water on his broad
shoulders while beads of water dotted his slim waisted body.
Jack stared at the young officer, admired the way his smooth
muscled body glistened with that sheet of water. Jack sucked in a
long breath and stared admiringly at that cock, that low riding set
of balls that jiggled whenever the officer moved. He had never
wanted someone so much and taken so long to get him?
"The shower or you?"
His eyes widened. He couldn't believe he'd said something like
that! For a second he thought the floor had opened and he was
dropping into some pit. Four words could destroy his career.
Then staring more closely Jack realized Ron hadn't heard the
remark. The officer had been busily toweling his face dry.
"Hm?" Ron asked, turning around as he started to rub his hair
dry. One look at Jack's black eyes and heaving chest told him the
story. He stopped drying himself, stepping back as if to warn the
enlisted man off. Ron had never felt his throat get this dry
before. He wanted to speak, to say something that would shake off
this spell, suddenly cast over them. But he couldn't do anything
except stare back, feeling his cock rising and thickening
behind the damp towel. Jack turned off the shower.
"I said, the shower or you."
The words echoed strangely in the shower room. Ron nearly jumped
out of his skin when Jack repeated them. What if someone heard
him." What if Jackson roused himself from his sleep and was
padding down the aisle to take a piss? He glanced nervously down
the double row of buns. No. No one was up. He heard snoring
groans, a few squeaking sounds indicating restless sleep.
"Uhhhh......I.....I don't think you'd better.....go much
further," Ron said, his breath coming in shorter pants.
"I think, the problem's that I didn't go far enough the first day."
His voice was dropping and thickening with excitement. Unlike
Ron he didn't have a towel to hide his cock. It rose up from his
hairy groin, the blue veins pulsing, pushing against the tight
shin. Ron's eyes dropped and widened with surprise. Was he
appalled at this advance? No, it had been something he'd wanted
ever since he'd met Jack. But here, practically in front of the
men? It was crazy. They'd both get busted if they were caught.
Then Ron moved the towel away, revealing his own hard-on. Jack
shivered, his lips curling into a grin. Shit, Thank God! He
moved to the doorway, reaching out with one hand and lightly
brushing the smooth, tightly stretched skin of that dickhead.
Ron's cock jerked up, jiggling the tight sacked balls beneath.
"Later, not here," Ron whispered, his eyes widening even more.
"It's perfect," Jack said, unable to keep his hands off the young
officer's smooth body any more. "They're out for a long time. My
room's got a lock on it. Come on. I'm not gonna wait for two
weeks now, especially knowing the way you feel about it."
"I.....ughhhh....."
It was crazy what they were doing! Anyone could come by and
spot them, turn them in. But the possibility of getting caught
added somehow to the rushing excitement overpowering both men.
Jack moved his hand along the full, smooth length of Ron's
seven inch dick, watching it seem to grow tauter with each passing
second. Finally it stood as rigidly immobile as steel, stretching
out from the officer's flat, hard groin. He liked a cock like that,
big, hard, but not as fat as his so as to threaten supremacy.
"I wanna fuck you.....fuck you bad," Jack muttered, his voice
catching.
This kind of foreplay was achingly slow. He was teasing himself,
driving Ron up the wall as well. But the officer was a good
catch. He wasn't going to rush through this as if Ron were some
trick he'd picked up in the street. He'd waited too long for
someone like that stud to come along to rush it.
"Let's get outta here, then," Ron said, swallowing hard.
"Best thing you've said so far," Jack answered.
He ringed the base of the officer's cock with his right
thumb and forefinger. He drew his hand forward, making Ron
shiver and his flesh pucker up into goosepimples.
"Let's move," Ron whispered, pushing Jack's fingers away.
The two men grabbed their respective towels, wrapping them tightly
around their waists and padding down the corridor to Jack's
room. Ron thought someone would bolt up from the cot and point
an accusing finger at them. But there was still nothing except the
constant snoring behind the two men.
"Safe," Jack said, closing the door behind him and bolting it shut.
Ron dropped his towel, turning around and facing Jack. His blood
enlarged dick jerked from side to side while Jack slid his towel
off and approached him. He stopped when his cockhead brushed
lightly against Ron's smooth inner thighs. They were holding back
until the last possible second, the air between them thickening
and sparking with electricity. Jack felt himself floating off
the floor with excitement. He reached up with one hand and ran his
fingers through Ron's damp, blond hair. Damn, the strands felt
like silk! He hadn't known many men who were like that. Jack looked
into Ron's eyes and saw the young officer wanted the same thing,
hard, hot wild fucking. There wasn't any going back now. To
hell with Commander Brewer, training, Jackson and the others. They
were going to make it, make it so fuckin' hard the damned quonset
hut would fall down when they were through!
Ron felt his balls puckering up, tightening against his cock.
Shit, his dick ached, throbbed and burned while jizz boiled up
from his nuts and packed down in his cockhead. If Jack didn't take
it easier he was going to cum all over them now. "Let's get in the
sack," Jack muttered, taking Ron By the hand and pulling him across
the tiled floor.
Ron didn't answer, at least with words. He still couldn't believe
this was happening. He'd read fantasy stories about guys in the
service fucking out in the field or in the showers. But that
was reading for the fuckin' bathroom, something to pound your
rod to. This was real! It was happening, going on
practically in front of the CO! He would have laughed if he weren't
so damned excited!
Ron lay down first, wallowing his shoulders against the wrinkled
sheets of the small bed. Jack followed, kneeling carefully on the
edge of the bed. He leaned forward, brushing his mouth lightly
against on of Ron's stiff nipples, then nuzzling it with his lips
and tongue.
The result was electrifying. Ron cried out with delight, biting
his lower lip and hoping no one outside could hear him.
"It's alright," Jack said, reading his mind. "The room's
practically soundproof. I think you could shoot off a gun in
here and they wouldn't wake up anyway," Jack added, smoothing his
hands up and down Ron's sides.
Jack went back to tonguing the young man's nipples, sucking the
dark brown flesh between the gap of his front teeth. Ron's body
jerked, his hands moving up to the sides of Jack's head.
"How long's it been since you've fucked around?" Jack asked ,
pulling back for a second.
"Too long, I guess. But that won't be a problem now."
Jack grinned, then lowered his head again. This time he put his
mouth on Ron's. He wasn't into all that kissing nonsense
usually. Romance was something for the books or those
marshmallow pump fags screeching around the disco bars. But this
was something else. He wanted Ron, all of him. He wanted to taste
him, fuck him, get inside him.
"God!" Ron muttered.
He kept his lips closed while Jack ran his tongue along the
line that divided them. Slowly Ron opened his mouth, silently
inviting the stud in. Their tongues met and pressed tentatively
against each other as the two men held back waves of lust building
quickly in their cocks. Jack flicked the tip of his tongue against
Ron's feeling the officer's body shiver under him when he increased
the pressure of his lips.
Then all hell broke loose. With a long groan Ron lashed his
tongue into Jack's mouth. In a second the two men were gripped
in a mind spinning whirlwind of lust. Their legs jerked against
one another. Their hands grabbed and squeezed. Their bellies,
chests and cocks ground together faster and harder, creating an
intensely heated friction triggering sweat that slicked down
their flesh. The room echoed with their moans and the sounds of wet
skin rubbing across wet skin.
Finally Jack wrenched his mouth from Ron's and threw back his
head. He heaved and his breath came in short, wheezing gasps. His
lower jaw dropped open and he let out a broken moan. Down by
his groin he could feel the hot, spongy head of Ron's cock throbbing
against his thighs.
"Feels good?" Jack whispered against Ron's right ear.
"God, yes!" Ron panted, moving his hands back and forth over
Jack's shoulders.
It did feel good. He hadn't had a man like Jack for a long time.
Back in the shower room he'd made up his mind that he was going
to let this stud fuck him. Jack was one of those few Ron would let
have his way. Ho could do anything to him and it would be alright.
He moved his butt from side to side, grinning, that smile fading
as a particularly powerful spasm shot through his cockhead. "Man,
everything about you feels good," Ron added, arching his back and
pressing his dick even harder against Jack's body.
Jack responded by doing the same, rubbing his throbbing dickhead
back and forth in the narrow crease running between Ron's right leg
and groin. Soon it was sliding on its own layer of pre-cum
oozing from the narrow piss slit. Jack dropped his head a third
time, gluing his lips onto Ron's and sucking in the officer's spit
while sliding one hand down until it cupped one of the blond's
asscheeks.
"Ummmmmm," Ron moaned into Jack's mouth.
It felt good, really good having those callused fingers rubbing
over his ass like that. He tensed his butt muscles, raising his
ass off the bed. He could feel Jack's muscular chest heaving,
reflecting the excitement whirling around in his head. God,
it was great the way those fingers gripped his hot firm flesh.
Every time Jack squeezed that asscheek Ron winced and shoved his
body against the stud's. Slowly Jack wound up pushing his
hand into the narrow crack running between the blond's buns. He
toyed with the few hairs that poked out around the bottom edge of
the buttcrack. He stroked the sensitive skin between Ron's asshole
and balls, making the officer raise his butt a little higher,
then drop it and snap his legs together. Ron shoved his
tongue deeper into Jack's mouth, drinking in all the spit he
could handle as that loving hand shoved closer to his asshole.
"Shit!" Jack cried out, tearing his mouth off again and running his
tongue down the side of Ron's neck.
The officer rolled back and forth on the bed, making the rusty
springs squeak and groan with the double weight. Jack was sliding
lower and lower on the bed now, dipping his tongue in the small
pools of seat that had collected on Ron's belly and chest. Jack
was still playing with the blond officer's ass, planning something
for that part of the body a little later. Right now he was
anxious to explore every inch of Ron's body with his tongue. He
lapped at the hot flesh the way a thirsty dog laps up water.
"Unnghhhh....."
Ron twisted half around, raising his ass up from the sagging cot a
little more. The air cooler whirred somewhere in the background
while he hung onto Jack's head. His fingers fanned out along the
sides of the big man's skull.
Jack thought he was going to go through the ceiling. He loved the
way his tonguing was turning Ron on. The young officer was
panting like a dog, sweat coating his body like oil. He
squeezed Ron's muscular buttocks, waiting to shove his face in
between those fleshy mounds and tongue his asshole.
TAKE IT EASY, EASY, Jack told himself, bathing the young man's
face with his hot spit. He slipped his tongue up and over Ron's
heavy belly, moving his fingers back up and digging them into his
flat, hard belly. Seat oozed into Jack's eyes, burning them while
his heart threatened to tear through his ribcage.
"Man, don't tease me ...ugh... like this," Ron grunted.
He opened his eyes and raised his head, looking heavy lidded at
Jack. The velvety, hot, wet sensation around his navel was driving
the young officer closer to climax than he wanted to be. He
dropped back down, the springs groaning and squeaking. He rolled
his head to one side and started biting the pillow. This was
turning out to be one hell of a two week active duty.
"Stop it ...uhhh Stop it. You're gonna make me ...cum!!"
Jack backed away, wiping the spit from his moustache with the back
of one hand. That stud was one hell of a number! His body was
tightly packed, muscular, but not too overdeveloped, every square
inch rippling with force and energy. The long legs, the groove
separating his thighs from his torso the hard banded pecs,
everything about Ron turned Jack om. Right now he was breathing
as hard as Jack, strands of hair covering one eye rakishly. He was
smiling, looking tired and weak. But Jack knew that feeling. He
was having it himself. It was the feeling of unreality, that
nothing existed except the two of them. Jack reached out and
brushed those strands of hair away from Ron's eyes, feeling his
balls drag across the officer's thighs.
Ron cried out, jerking half up, then throwing his body back down
on the bed. His head snapped from one side to the other while a
growl escaped between his lips. He clawed at the wrinkled
top sheet, his muscles tensing, relaxing, then tensing again.
Jack was letting the tip of his tongue trail along the sensitive
ridge of his cock.
"Ohhhhh man," Jack whispered, circling tongue around the base
of Ron's dick, then moving it back up to the grove separating
the flanges of his cockhead. He raised both hands and placed them
heavily onto Ron's thighs, holding the stud down while continuing
his teasing. He liked that, liked watching someone like Ron
twisting under him, groaning like some goddamned animal that's just
been speared. And he was in control, playing him like a musical
instrument. Whenever his tongue neared the cockhead he baked away,
watching that rod jerk up, then flop back to Ron's flat belly.
"SHIT!"
Jack backed off again, seeing that Ron was humping his ass back
and forth in fucking motions. He didn't want him to shoot yet.
He would've given anything to watch that white jizz spurt out in
broad arcs and hit his face. But he knew they might not get a
chance to fuck around for a while. Might was well make this worth
the trouble and forget an early climax for a more powerful later one.
"Can't stop it!"
Jack realized he'd teased the young man too much. Ron's face
twisted up in a mask of pain, his breathing coming in short,
raspy pants. He was throwing himself side to side, banging his
crotch against Jack's face. He was cumming, his dick leaping up and
shooting out long strings of hot white cum. It arched in the air,
then spattered down onto the sheet over Jack's arms and shoulders.
Ron curled his fingers, beating his fists hard on the bed. The
cords in his neck stood out while his cries turned into strangled
groans.
Jack was surprised. He had hardly touched him. His tongue had
trailed along the officer's dick, moved up to the head, then back
down. Nothing had happened. And yet Ron was turning into a wild
man, shooting like some fuckin' teenager who was rolling in the hay
for the first time.
Finally Ron's body went limp. He shuddered then groaned softly
as Jack wiped off a sploch of cum that had landed on his face.
"Shit. I hardly touched you," Jack said, looking at the limp dick
in front of him. Well, he didn't have to have a hard-on under him
when he fucked. But it sure added to the excitement.
"Sorry," Ron panted breathlessly. He struggled to get the oxygen
back into his lungs. "But I warned you. Shit, I warned you."
"If you're that hot, it won't take much more to get it back up,"
Jack said.
He smiled slyly down at the blond officer, running his fingers
lightly over the underside of Ron's limp cock. It was still
sensitive from the last cum.
"Besides, I've still got my load," Jack said chucking Ron under the
chin.
He sprang off the small bed and walked to his duffle bag.
Unzipping the cloth case he fished around, finding his tube of
Lube. Didn't think about usin' this out here. I was gonna be up
in L.A. for a while and...hell, try it out in some of the baths,"
Jack said, moving back to the bed.
"Glad we fucked up your plans," Ron said, eyeing the fat dick
standing straight out from Jack's hairy groin. He'd been fucked
before. But the specialists cock was something a little larger
than he'd had up his ass. Watching Jack grease his dick down he
swallowed hard. A little amyl would have helped now. But he had a
feeling Jack didn't have any poppers in the bag.
"Come on, over on your belly. It'll be easier," Jack said,
noticing Ron's wariness.
"Shit, you're so big you'll split me in two," Ron answered.
His eyes widened as he stared at the angry red flanged cockhead.
"Over, over," Jack muttered, helping Ron roll onto his belly. He
watched that handsome head bury in the pillow, those arms pushing
under the covers. He caressed the downy, smooth skin with his
fingers, loving the silky feel of his hot assflesh. Soft and
still a man. Hell, it was a great combination.
Then he moved his fingers down to Ron's shitter, creasing the
wrinkled red-pink flesh with his thumbnails. The officer
groaned, making Jack's heart skip a beat. He worked his fingers
back and forth, massaging that tight little asshole, feeling as if
he could shoot any second. HOLD BACK MAN, he told himself,
fanning out his fingers and kneading the taut buttflesh. He
shoved his thumbnails in a little deeper until he could feel the
silky lining of Ron's shitter.
"Oh, man," Ron breathed into the pillow.
The blond officer shifted his thighs from side to side, rubbing
his cock and balls against the sweat soaked sheets. Jack was
right. He was hot enough to get hard again fast. He felt his
dick starting to stretch the second Jack out his thumbs in his
asshole. Small daggers of heat shot out from his butt and knifed
into his dickhead, making his rod throb just as it had minutes
before. There wasn't the urgent need for release this time. His
climax would be slower. He pushed his knees farther apart, angling
his butt a little higher to make Jack's fucking a little
easier. It felt damned exciting and jot to be exposing himself like
that. Jack's calloused thumbs were scraping his shitter. He could
feel the jagged nails tickling the flesh around his asshole.
"Damn, man, you're one hell of a hot fuck," Jack commented.
He shoved Ron's knees forward until they were almost up to his
nipples. Backing down, the big stud held him tightly around the
hips, dropping his face to Ron's butt.
"Aw, shit, fuck!" Ron cried out, pounding the pillow.
Jack was going crazy behind him. It seemed he couldn't get enough
of the officer's body. He left his cock waving in the air,
hanging onto both thighs as if his life depended on it. The
big stud shoved his face up behind Ron's hanging balls,
spreading his legs wider apart. He started sucking and licking
between the officer's legs, digging his fingers hard into Ron's
thighs. It was wild! The blond didn't care if his damned men heard
him or not. His career, his reputation didn't matter a fuck. All he
cared about was that crazy tongue slopping down his legs, covering
him with spit. He was grunting like a stuck pig, his belly sagging
down toward the bed, then tensing when Jack hit a particularly
sensitive spot.
For Jack it was one of the best fucks he'd had in a long time. He
couldn't get enough of Ron's groin. He slid his mouth up and
down those hairless legs, feeling the officer trying to draw
them together. He kept them splayed, moving his tongue up until
he was washing down the tense flesh around Ron's shitter.
"Shit, man, shit!" Ron cried.
Jack was sucking out his ass. He stiffened his tongue once or
twice and screwed it in. Twisting his head from one side to the
other, he drenched that hole with hot spit. At the same time Jack
reached down with one hand and started jerking Ron off. The
blond officer groaned, breathing with rasping sounds through his
nose.
"Fuck," Ron whispered.
He was ready. His ass was hot, tiltled back for that hard fat rod
hanging between Jack's legs. All that spit being poked down into
his asshole was fantastic. It removed any inhibitions he might
have had about having Jack fuck him. He wanted that fat
headed cock skewering him. Curling his fingers again he tore at the
pillowcase, his knees sliding forward a little more. He wagged
his butt again. Jack was still sucking at his hole, pumping
his dick. Ron was flipping around the bed, moaning, digging the
hot shivers running up and down his spine.
"Don't really need the grease," Jack said, pulling back and wiping
the spit from his moustache and chin. "You're wet enough down
there to take a donkey's cock."
Ron didn't answer. He held onto the pillow, waiting for that ass
splitter to ream in. He didn't have to wait long. Jack looked
down at his rod, greasy from the Lube. It was big and swollen,
every vein in it standing out clean cut like the ridges of a
muscle. It was a steel pole twisted around with thick wire and
feeling red hot. He leaned forward, pressing his cockhead against
that puckered brown little asshole.
The blond officer grunted at the touch.
"Fuckin sweet ass," he hissed through his teeth.
Jack tensed his thighs, shoving his legs up against the backs of
Ron's. He spread the blond's asscheeks with both hands,
watching his rod bend a little at the middle.
"Shove it in," Ron cried in a strained voice.
Jack looked down, staring at those spit slicked hairless buns and
the fat rod splitting them. He shoved forward, feeling some
resistance even after all that asshole rimming.
"Easy, easy," he muttered.
He saw Ron's body shiver. Then suddenly the sphincter relaxed.
That tight muscle around his hole gave way. With a squisy sound,
Ron's ass swallowed up his cock in one thrust.
Jack shuddered, reaching down and taking Ron's cock and balls in his
hands. He shoved his cock right up his ass as far as it could go.
Ron spread his legs a little further, groaning into the pillow,
trying not to make too much sound. The big stud jerked his
fingers up and down the officer's twitching rod, feeling pre-cum
oozing from his piss slit, slicking down his fingers. They made a
rapid clicking sound as he pounded Ron's cock faster and faster.
"Shit, shit!" the officer cried.
His fingers slipped and slid all over that fat dick. Jack pumped
his ass hard, driving his rod in and out of that hot hole until
he thought the whole damned quonset hut had to be shaking.
Half the time he expected someone to be pounding on the door,
wondering what the hell was going on in there. Jack felt he could
have fucked that stud for hours until his cock was worn out.
"Man, you ain't fucked for a long time...not back here.
You're so goddamned tight!"
Jack fucked him slow and easy to start after the first few rapid
pumps. He churned his rod up Ron's ass like a corkscrew, held
back, then slammed it on home. Pulling it out and almost felt as
good as fucking in. Ron had his asshole trained, it seemed. He
clamped down on Jack's dick and sucked it right up as Jack pulled
out to get ready to shove it back in. It was the wildest feeling
yet. To the big UDT specialist it was almost like getting sucked
off while fucking at the same time.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" Jack gasped, holding off his
fucking movements for a second time. If he kept up he'd have
blasted his cum into that sucking hole.
"I've been around," Ron managed to say, his words turning into
groans as Jack fisted his rod faster and tighter.
Ron didn't believe in letting a good hunk of meat alone for one
second. If he couldn't always enjoy feeling every inch of it
stuck inside him, then he'd get his hole working so he could
feel every fat rubbery inch of it sliding out. His cock thumped
in Jack's hand letting the big stud know just how hot he was getting.
Jack was through with easy going fucking. His brain was on
fire. He sucked in air, the oxygen burning his nostrils and
lungs while the room spun around. He wanted to fuck Ron into the
floor. He felt the officer's balls swinging back against his
knuckles while he jerked him off. He stopped that for a second,
squeezing his fingers tightly around the fleshy rod until he herd
Ron moan. He wanted to fuck that smooth, taut ass hard and fast and
rough until his balls couldn't hold off anymore and shot their load
up his rod and filled that ass.
"This is it, guy, this is it," he whispered in Ron's ears.
"Go on, man, go for it!" Ron squeezed out of throat.
Jack shivered, pulled out a little, them slammed it up to the
hilt! Out again then back, out and back again and again he fucked
until he felt his cock was going like a piledriver, His cock was
fucking Ron so hot and fast that the officer's moaning and
humming seemed to turn to signing. Jack thought the blond's
dick was swelling up so hard and big it would burst right there
in his fist. It was so slippery with fuck juice that it slid in and
out of his hand as if it were someone's shitter.
"Ungnhhhhh!"
Ron's body was wet with sweat. The perspiration trickled down his
back and ended up right between his buns. It became part of the
spit and fuck juice Jack's cock was riding on.
"Shit!" Jack cried, throwing back his head and shaking the sweat
from his face.
His hips worked rapidly back and forth. That little shit was
working his ass around like a maniac, his asshole chewing that
fucking rod like a toothless mouth. Nobody, but nobody, had done
something like that to his rod in a long time. Jack hunched over
Ron, laying his chest down against the officer's back, fucking
like a dog. Every muscle in his body was working. He kept his
cock pounding into the officer's tight ass, feeling more cum oozing
from his swinging balls and packing down his dickhead. At times
he thought his rod was going to blow apart, sending gobs of jizz
shooting into that sucking shitter.
"Go for it, man," Ron hissed between his teeth.
Jack felt his balls pulled up tight against his dick. He knew this
was the final lap of the trip. He could feel the base of his
spine getting all itchy. His own asshole seemed to be twitching too
while his cock turned to iron.
Then he stood up straighter and pulled back a little. In that
position he could get a look at his dick slipping in and out of his
hole. What he saw just about split his head open. His dick was
chugging into Ron's butt, making those hairless slick buns shiver
with excitement each time he shoved in or pulled out. The way
Ron's hole grabbed onto his dick was like a damned suction pump.
Jack stuck some fingers down there so he could get a feel of what
was going on, still keeping one hand flying over Ron's cock and
balls. When he moved one finger under his dick just where it joined
up with his balls, he could feel every small muscle tensed up,
keeping his rod stiff as a board. He stroked and fingered himself
around there, touching something that sent shivers up and down
his spine. The he moved back to where his balls were drawn
up. He was going to finger fuck himself! That'd be one hell of a
scene. No, he'd concentrate on that hot little ass in front of him.
"What are you doing back there? Your cock's like a fucking
tongue." Ron panted.
"Just playing a little," He answered, poking his cock around in his
hole.
"Oh shit, right...ughhh, right there," Ron cried, twitching his ass
up and down on Jack's rod so it would hit some spot that was driving
him wild.
"Shut up," Jack whispered.
Ron sucked in his breath and kept his butt working on Jack's rod.
In the end the officer was jumping around so fast and hot that the
big stud knelt there, pulling his balls and letting that ass do all
the work. It was the sexiest thing the specialist had ever seen.
Then a spasm passing through his rod and balls told Jack the
playing was over. "Here goes," he said, hunching down on him
again. He grabbed his balls in one hand, Ron's cock in the other
and started to hump hard. Their sweaty bodies slapped together
faster and faster. Each pull out of his hole made a sucking
sound. Jack's dick ramrodded his hole as fast as a piston engine.
Then that hot feeling in his spine and asshole came back in
a rush. Something switched on in his head and something like
liquid fire shot through from his shitter to his balls. Jack jerked
Ron's big dick hard and fast until it stood up by itself in his
fist and jumped. Ron's hot jizz shot right up his cock and spit
into the air. It was too much for Jack to take. He let out a
wild howl, thumping his cock all the way up Ron's tightly clasping
hole.
"Shit!" the officer cried.
Ron's rock hard cock again. Load after load of cum spilled out.
Then it was Jack's turn, twisting around, nearly pulling out as
explosions shot through his cock and balls. Wad after wad
spurted out, filing up the officer's sucking asshole. Jack couldn't
stop ramming his dick up him, the jizz shooting out like burning
naphtha. When his balls seemed ready to cave in, Jack could feel
that electricity up and down his spine slowly turn down. Ron's dick
was stilljumping around a little in his fist. But nothing seemed to
be spurting out the slit anymore.
"Oh man...."
Jack felt as if someone had punched him in the belly. He
noticed his fingers were all wet and sticky. He tickled the blond's
balls a little and stroked his cock slowly. It was still hard
but had stopped shooting. Jack's cock felt hot and good, felt
great stuck up that butt. He never wanted to pull it out.
Jack fell on top of him, sliding his hands reluctantly away
from the officer's groin and putting them on his arms. He worked
his ass from side to side, feeling his cock softening slowly inside
Ron's shitter.
"You've got me goin', and I ain't gonna let an ass like
that get away....even out here in the middle of nowhere," Jack said.
He couldn't believe he'd found someone like Ron, a goddamned
officer; most studs would've at best groaned a little while
offering up their ass reluctantly. And that little son of a
bitch was rutting like a fuckin' stallion in the fields, twisting
on the bed like a maniac, sucking at his fat rod for all he was
worth! He'd make a fortune with that butt on the streets!
Is thoughts drifted back to the present. Jackson, Commander
Brewer, all the others in the hut just behind the door. They had
to break it off for now and figure out something else for later.
He smiled. Jack knew they'd find a way.
"I'll towel off," Jack said, pulling his dick out.
Ron shivered, rolling onto this side and watching Jack wipe the
sweat and cum from his cock and balls. God, it had felt so good
getting fucked like that. That fucker knew his shit! His ass
still throbbed when he thought about that big dickhead
skewering his butt while those massive balls slapped against his
thighs. He wondered when they could figure out another time to get
together. It wouldn't be easy.
"Come on, clean up and get the fuck outta here," Jack said easily,
grinning when he threw the towel into Ron's face.
They moved quickly, Jack straightening the sheets while Ron rubbed
himself dry, then flipped the towel around his waist. He
looked at Jack, then flipped open the lock quietly and opened
the door. A blast of cool air from the large room told him
just how much they'd heated up the small living space.
Good. The men were still asleep. The snoring echoed from the
curved quonset hut walls and ceiling. He'd move into the shower and
rinse off the sweat, then slip into bed and....
"Could't sleep, huh?"
Ron tensed, turning around and spotting Commander Brewer, standing
in the corridor that ran past Jack's quarters.
"We were talking about the excercise this morning," Ron said.
"We've gotta change a few things."
"Oh!" Brewer said.