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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.