The reserves were never hotter that when these weekend warriors discovered they'd rather switch than fight!
WILD MARINE BOYS
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 bunks. 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, ten 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 still jumping 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.