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I sat at my desk, working on paperwork in my office at battalion headquarters. I turned pages but couldn’t remember a word I had read. A week. I’ve been a cum-slut for a whole fucking week. I bit my lip.
One week ago I was a proud US Army officer, standing tall, bowing to no man. I had come up through the ranks to the silver oak leaves of a lieutenant colonel. At 50, I reached battalion commander, proud of my achievements, proud of my memories of combat, CIA missions, even a Purple Heart. I looked forward to retirement and an easy life in only six more months. But my life had done one motherfucker of an About-Face.
I looked up from the papers, staring out the window. A man. A man showed me my weakness. I gulped. Never would have dreamed it. Thought I was stone straight. I’m married, for god’s sake, and I have a son!
I shook my head. But it’s true: I love cock, and he taught me exactly how I love it: down my throat and up my ass. He took me. Got my cherry. Made me his.
I clasped my hands behind my neck, leaning back in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. And Paul. I’ll be a sonofabitch if the guy didn’t do the same to my own son! I smiled. And Paul did it to me, too.
A week ago a Private Dovis came into my life and (not exactly against my will) taught my son and me how it was. I figured I should be, but I wasn’t really sorry. Dovis opened a whole new world to me. My cock twitched pleasantly as I thought about it.
I went back to my paperwork, trying not to think about what I couldn’t stop thinking about. After a few minutes I heard my orderly’s voice in the outer office. “Hi, Paul. He’s in his office. Go right in.” Well, I’ll be damned. Speak of the devil.
I sat up straight and smiled as my son walked into my office. The back of my boxer clung wetly to my ass, still moist from leaking the cumload he shot into me while I leaned over the bathroom sink that morning. We had grown closer than I thought possible.
Then another man walked in, and my mouth dropped open. Corporal Niely! Ohmigod, the sergeant I busted down to corporal for queer acts in the barracks!
My whole adventure in mansex began the day I busted (former) Sergeant Niely after they caught him in the barracks showers getting a blowjob from another soldier. My mouth went dry, and beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. “What do you want?” I growled.
Niely came to Attention but said nothing. I looked at Paul. “They came to the house, Dad,” he said, “and brought me here.”
“They?” Another man sauntered through the door, and my balls turned to ice. Private Dovis, the man himself!! He had turned me into his personal cock-slave. He looked at me with a smirk. I knew it! I knew it wasn’t over. And now the other shoe is dropping. I raised my voice, “What’s this all about?” But I felt like I was drowning.
Dovis turned to Niely. “Go ahead, man,” he said in a low voice. “Do it. You’ll see.” With that, Niely reached down and opened the fly in his fatigue pants. Watching me uncertainly, he reached in and fetched out a big cock, the one I had marveled at in the photos from the Military Police office.
Instead of calling the MPs, as I should have, without saying a word, I moved quickly to my office door, closed it, and quietly turned the lock. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” hissed.
“Suck it,” said Dovis. “Suck his cock and show him you’re sorry for busting him from sergeant.”
“What? That’s bullshit! I’ll have you arrested,” I barked (but not quite loud enough to be heard outside the office).
Smiling at me, Dovis stuck his hand in his pants and pulled out The Cock. I stared, dizzy. My God, I’m out of control!
“Not this, suck his cock, Bitch,” Dovis ordered, and his sexual conditioning of me took over: I moved trembling to stand before the corporal, my knees hit the floor, and I slurped my lips over his big, purple knob. As I reached in to heft his balls, I heard another thump—Paul going down on Dovis’s big hardon.
“Fucking hypocrite,” Niely growled, lurching his hips and sinking his cock deeper. I closed my eyes. As a man I couldn’t sink any deeper.
Dovis laughed. “The colonel was a virgin until he met me. Now he’s a cock-slut.”
Niely must have been scared at first because he wasn’t fully hard when I began the blowjob, and I was still sucking when Dovis let out a groan, and the sounds from their side of the room became very slurpy with many small grunts. I envied Paul and the hot cum he was swallowing.
Inspired by his buddy, Niely’s balls came online, and with a vicious jab down the back of my throat, he hosed me with his own, man-sized load of sperm. I swallowed it all.
I was a hopeless case. When he pulled his dong back, I licked it all the way, kissing and nursing as the head slipped out of my mouth. I’m NOT a cum-slut, I told myself, I just don’t want him to mark my uniform with his jism.
Yeah, right.
When he bayrampaşa escort finished, Niely zipped himself up, walked to the door, and unlocked it. Dovis walked after him, sneering down at me as he passed by.
When we were alone, I looked at Paul as he wiped the cum from his lips. He gave me a little smile. “I think we got a problem, Dad.”
He still had a small dollop of sperm on his cheek. I went to him, bent over, and licked it off. “We’ll be okay,” I said and gave him a kiss, at first a fatherly peck, but when he groped my crotch and squeezed my rock-hard dick, we frenched each other until we both were panting.
“We better not,” he whispered. “The door’s not locked.
“You’re right, son.” I held him away from me and looked him up and down. What a handsome kid, a real man. I felt proud in a funny way—more in my balls than in my chest. “Go on home, Paul. I’ve got stuff I’ve got to finish here. I’ll see you later on.” Paul gave my crotch another squeeze, then walked out of my office.
I plunked down in the chair behind my desk, pulled open the big bottom drawer, and lifted out the bottle of Jim Beam. I poured myself a stiff shot. I didn’t really believe anything about that “we’ll be okay” stuff. In fact, I’m scared shitless. Dovis told Niely about me! Oh, God, the story is going to spread. Will I ever make it to retirement Holy hell. Am I going to keep my head above water?? Instead of leaving the Army with a cushy going-away party, I saw visions of a court martial and being tossed out into the street.
I took another slug from the glass. I have to admit it: I like to be at the mercy of a big man who’s been around the block, a cocksman who knows what to do to me. I swallowed more whiskey. Letting Paul fuck me works, but it’s just father-son bonding, playing catch—only using sperm instead of a baseball.
But Dovis. He’s something else.
Fucking around with Dovis is Russian Roulette, though, a ticking time-bomb. I stood up, walked to the window again, and watched the soldiers marching by. I bit my lip. Keeping away from Dovis won’t help. For one thing, he was my first. He marked me. I can’t resist that man when he pulls open his pants. And it’s clear he plans to make this grow—first my son, then Niely, and who knows how many more he’ll bring to me. Until he destroys me.
Okay, don’t panic, dumb-ass. And put down the booze. Let’s list what’s going on:
1) You sucked Dovis’s cock and then he fucked you—teaching you to love sex with men.
2) Dovis, for all that he is a natural-born fucker you were lucky to have as your first—is still a teenaged shithead who loves to humiliate you and who will surely cause your downfall.
And what can I do about that??
Shut up, there’s something else:
3) Dovis set you free. He didn’t invent your cravings, he uncovered them. Now that you know what’s inside you, there’s nothing that says you can’t pursue your own interests!
I leaned against the side of the window, looking out. Fuck, yeah! A fort this size is bound to have dozens if not hundreds of gay soldiers! And I’ll keep it under control. Secret.
This doesn’t solve the problem of Dovis, though. I picked up the whiskey again and took another jolt. I need a miracle. Through the window I watched an officer in khaki uniform walked into the distance, his green beret at a jaunty angle. Nice ass. Tight butt. Never rimmed a man’s ass before. Like to try it. That’s a well-built man, reminds me of–
Captain Stempl!
Stempl had been a favorite of mine for a long time, and I didn’t even know why. It wasn’t “love.” He wasn’t particularly handsome—had a face like a bulldog. He was no tall hero-knight, either—he was only five-foot-something and had very short legs. The man had the build of a gorilla: big chest, long arms, narrow waist, stubby legs. I heard soldiers in his command refer to him as “Captain Stubby.”
But even before Dovis took my cherry and showed me what else the male body can do, I had a strange enjoyment in looking at Stempl. He was a soldier from head to toe. Knew every Army manual by heart. Wore his uniform like he was a guard at the White House. When he marched with his troops, he was in perfect step, and those short little legs somehow covered the same amount of territory as the six-footers tromping beside him.
Watching Stempl was to know the joy of soldiering. Everything about him radiated pride in himself, pride in the Service, and pride in whatever he did. Back in those days of the draft, a great many GIs had bad attitudes, bitching and moaning about the slightest orders, just putting in their time, living for their Discharge.
Individuals like Captain Stempl stood out like Ken dolls in a room full of Potato-Heads. Short as he was, “Captain Stubby” was what being a being a soldier—being a man—was all about.
I wondered about his cock. I’d never seen it. What?? You just beykoz escort sucked a cock in your office, and now you’re bottom-feeding again?? I shrugged my shoulders. Yeah, better to put sex with soldiers completely out of my mind.
I had my son Paul at home, after all, and Dovis had taught us sucking and fucking. Paul wasn’t the big, grown man I craved, though. I thought about the porn shop downtown. Maybe I can dress up in civilian clothes, wear shades, and see what I can find there.
Yeah, right. I’ll give you 99 to 1 that you’ll either meet a soldier you know (who might not tell) or worse, one will see you who knows who you are (and who surely will tell). I sighed. The porn shop’s bread & butter was off-duty GIs.
I left the office, walked out into the street, and started crossing the quad. You bastard, I know where you’re going! Goddamit, you’re going over to see Stempl! Hey, I’m the fucking commander! I need to keep in touch with the troops.
You’re losing it, you stupid bastard! You’re going over there to keep touching the troops!
The decision went back and forth in my head all the way over to Company D. When I walked through the barracks door, somebody called out “Tensh-HUT!” and everybody leaped up to stand straight and tall. From the corner of my eye I saw somebody duck out the door to run to the Commanding Officer’s office and alert the CO—Captain Stempl. Good.
“At Ease, men. Relax,” I said. “This is no surprise inspection. Just dropped by to see your CO.” But the experience with Dovis had opened my eyes. I guess I had always “noticed,” but not really noticed the handsome, muscular bodies around me. With a poker face, I glanced casually around the room. Some of the men went back to relaxing on their bunks in only fatigue pants and undershirts. Others—yeah!—were bare-chested. Nice. Hairy chest on that guy. And look at that one: big brown nipples the size of 50-cent pieces. One GI lounged on his bunk in nothing but his boxers and a tank-top undershirt, one leg up on the mattress, giving me shot into the darkness down the leg of his shorts. Couldn’t see much, though—too far away.
I walked on, glancing at a few crotches, but I knew only too well that I was being watched, too, and what I looked at was being recorded—if I had stared at a window, for example, the second I left, the sergeant would have them scrubbing it. If I looked down at a bunk, its owner would be yelled at later for loose blankets.
If any realized I was looking around hoping to see cocks—well, I didn’t want to think about what would happen. I walked around for a respectable time, then sauntered down the hallway to the headquarters offices.
Stempl wasn’t there. Damn!
“He’s over at the gym, sir.”
“He is?”
“Yessir. Goes over there most days to work out.”
“Thank you, sergeant. Maybe I’ll drop back later.” He saluted me; I returned the salute and walked back outside. The gym. PT uniform—shorts and T-shirt! I got that funny feeling in my gut—tightness in the balls, anxious groin—I was getting horny.
I walked a couple of blocks to the post gymnasium and looked around. He wasn’t there. I did get to watch a couple of muscular specimens lifting weights, but they wore sweatshirts and sweatpants–loose, thick clothes that hid everything. I checked every room (especially the showers—six guys in there, two with foreskins, four cut), but no Stempl. I was pissed. Goddamn it, I’m going to give the gym a surprise inspection! I’ll piss THEM off!
Calm down, idiot.
What the hell, I walked down the street to the Officers’ Club and went into the bar. I needed a drink. Well, I’ll be damned! At the bar sat Captain Stempl himself! Alone he nursed what looked like a Scotch & water.
“Captain Stempl!”
He looked up suddenly, startled. We were in Duty Hours, and he owed me an explanation for being in the bar imbibing alcohol. Oh? And what are you in here for?
“Colonel,” he said, then paused. A long pause. Doesn’t know what to say. Somehow I’ve caught him with his pants down, but I don’t know exactly why. He set the glass down. “Colonel,” he said again, “I got a problem.”
I sat on the stool next to him. “And what’s that?”
He took another drink from his glass. “It’s a chickenshit gripe.” He set the glass down. “But I feel like I’ve been kicked in the balls.” Finally he said it: “My girlfriend left me.”
My first inclination was to snicker, but the man was obviously dead in the water. “With her a long time, were you?”
“Yeah. Eight years. I was going to ask her to marry me at the end of the summer.”
In a similar case, I would have slapped the guy on the back and told him to go downtown and get laid, but Stempl was really hurting. “Hey, man, buck up.” I really didn’t know what to say. “It happens to everybody sooner or later,” I volunteered and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You’ve just gotta beyşehir escort deal with it.”
I thought for a moment. “Tell you what, Captain Stempl, put the glass down and go for a ride with me. We’ll talk about this.” He dropped five bucks on the bar. You perverted bastard, the poor fucker has lost his girl, and you’re ogling his body! True. Very casually but very intently, I checked Stempl out: chest like a beer barrel, his shoulders like rolling mountains, arms long and gorilla-like.
When he slid off the stool, I checked out his package. Damn! A good bulge, and in his frame of mind, it’s not from a hardon. He’s packing something down there!
You make me sick. The poor guy on the edge of suicide, and you want to get into his pants! Seduce a guy who’s straight!
Stempl and I walked outside and headed to the battalion parking lot. My parking space was close to the buildings, so we didn’t have far to go. I unlocked the car, and we got in, Stempl looking like a prisoner on his way to jail. As I drove out of the post, we talked about this and that, avoiding the elephant in the room.
Outside the post, I pulled off the road in a parking area near the trailhead of a hiking path. We got out and started to walk. After a few minutes, Stempl muttered, “Colonel, I’m as embarrassed as hell, but I just can’t get her out of my mind.” He paused. “How am I going to make it?”
I turned to say something, but before I could, he went on, his voice low, almost talking to himself: “You don’t know what it’s like. None of you do.” Long pause. “I’m too fucking short—too fuckin’ ugly. Women either pity me or they outright run away. When Janet and I fell in love, I thought I had finally made it.”
Personal relationships are not my specialty. Again grasping for something to say, I muttered, “Oh, hell, Stempl, that’s not true! You’re a … good-looking man. And you don’t want a woman who cares more about what you look like than what you are.” I hoped that made sense. I had heard it somewhere.
“Oh, God, ” he said. My hell, is he about to cry?? “I can’t face it! Sitting in bars while girls walk by me trying to avoid eye contact. Hearing the bitches tell me they don’t want to go out with me.”
He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “Being called ‘Shorty’!'”
I didn’t know what else to do. I placed my arm around his shoulder. “Oh, that’s okay,” I said lamely. “Things’ll work out. You’ll see.”
He turned toward me, and suddenly he was close. Very close. He looked up into my face, and we stared into each other’s eyes.
Ohmigod! It’s happening. The longer I looked into his eyes, the stronger the feeling that we communicated. Waves, radiations, electricity, something flowed between us.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I wrapped my arms gently and completely around his shoulders. To my delight, his arms moved under mine and around my back to hug me, too. We stood like that for a long time—two men in an embrace. What will you say when the MPs ask you what you’re doing?
Hey, technically this is “comforting a fallen comrade”—nothing illicit.
Oh, yeah? This isn’t where you want this to end. Are you so low you’re coming on to a straight guy on the rebound from his girl??
Hey, he’s hugging me back! As a matter of fact, we were hugging very close. The bulge in the front of his fatigues pressed against my thigh (his crotch was lower than mine). My hard cock pressed against his belly. He had to feel it.
When our embrace finally passed the line marking “innocent, honest comfort to a friend” and became unexplainably long, we both knew. The world had turned under us.
I took the lead and lowered my face slowly, very slowly. His eyes grew wide, nervous, and he trembled in my arms. Damn, is that horror or just uncertainty? Well, he’s not pulling away. My mouth moved closer and closer. “Sir,” he hissed, “I’m-I’m not…mmmf!” I pressed my lips against his, and he jerked a little. But he didn’t pull back.
The kiss was gentle. Tender. Not a rape-threat. Stempl was at full steam, though. Panting blasts from his nostrils swept the side of my face. But he’s not truly horny, not yet. A stick of dynamite just went off in his head when his commanding officer kissed him! I restrained myself, knowing massive attitude changes were crashing down on Stempl.
After a few moments (during which he never tried to break the kiss), I pressed my lips a little harder against his. When he let out a little grunt, I touched his lips with the tip of my tongue, and—the sign—his mouth opened! His tongue thrust out to do battle with mine.
Victory! My cock throbbed in my pants. I knew how the rest of this would go. Oh, God, just like Dovis knew he had me back in that latrine. Yep, there it was: I knew I had Stempl. My cock hardened into an ICBM, and, still kissing him, I moved him in short steps off the trail and back into some thick shrubbery.
I moved my hands across his back, feeling his muscles, squeezing here and there. Slowly my hands moved lower, caressing new territory with every grope, until, with a soft groan in my mouth, Stempl let me know he felt my hands gripping and cupping his buttocks, squeezing and manipulating them, turning him on.
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