Assmunch

ZEUS 0245 hrs. When they reached the rock formation he and Alaska scouted the area around it for a large enough and flat enough space to hold the Platoon under cover of a windbreak as well as suitable to lean logs and branches which was difficult because the snow was now deep enough to hide the features they were looking for and it was dark. The rock face did block the wind currently blowing from the northeast making the snow pile more shallow. “This looks like our best bet.” Alaska announced loudly to overcome the wind rushing through the trees and the sound dampening effect of the snow. He spread his arms to indicate a stretch along the formation that was approximately 60 feet long. It wasn’t completely flat but it checked all the other necessary boxes. “Let’s clear a line ten feet from the base of the rock.” By the time the Platoon arrived they had a good start clearing the area and the rest of the guys began scouring the woods around them in pairs to locate enough deadfall to build their windbreak shelter. Their packs and sleds were laid out to cover the ground already cleared so the heavy, thick snow wouldn’t just cover the ground again as they worked. Squint and Weeble were put to work cutting up half their tents into fabric panels that would curtain the windbreak and allow snow to be packed against the branches they leaned against the formation. Someone, probably Chunk, had the foresight to task a few guys to start a woodpile for a fire. Bootlicker soon had a campfire burning that helped with light. Fires were forbidden in the Veldenstein but this was an emergency and the Army would have to deal with the fallout if they were caught. No one thought that was likely. The windbreak was constructed as a grid, lashed with paracord. Alaska directed the building saying it wasn’t that different from how outdoor equipment like your snowmobile was protected in Alaska to keep it from being buried overnight, it was just on a larger scale and more durable than the basic A-frame for something temporary. Green wood lower branches with pine needles still attached were used to thatch the basic grid. Every layer helped. Once the tent fabric panels were tied on, they piled snow and packed it against the sloped structure. Sleeper said the cold had rendered the radio inoperable, and they’d have to wait until it could be warmed up a little in the shelter. After four hours they were all exhausted but they had a fairly roomy, cozy shelter inside which their packs were lined up. Everyone had decided to use the Extreme Cold Weather level 7 outer suits as a padding layer beneath their bags. Bootlicker and Cellblock engineered triangle shaped doors for either end that opened inward to allow them to get in and out for bathroom trips to a latrine dug just outside the doors under a cantilevered overhang. Half of the guys chose to zip their sleeping bags together and sleep in pairs. Gabriel didn’t ask Sleeper, he decided they would do the same and Addison would just have to deal with it. A small fire pit had been dug out against the rock face in the center and if they kept the fire small they could keep it going for two days with the wood they had. The shelter was almost airtight except for the two ends which had the doors allowing enough airflow that a fire wouldn’t be a problem. “Everyone get some sleep.” Sleeper ordered. “I’m not setting a watch.” By this time, they could hear the wind gusting violently causing the woods around them to be filled with the creak of swaying trees and a whistling moan that got louder with each passing minute. “I’m wiped, but I don’t know if I can sleep in this.” Shark replied. “Fuck, if this shelter doesn’t hold-“ “Shark! Shut the fuck up. It will either hold or it won’t, it’s out of our control, but spreading your fear won’t help.” Cellblock barked. “It’ll hold.” Bootlicker announced with a bored confidence. “It’s effectively a single reinforced shield that weighs over a ton and a half because of the foot of packed snow on top of it. The math says it would take a tornado to even budge it.” Soon the simple exhaustion of a sleepless night and the scramble to build the shelter forced everyone’s eyes to close. Gabriel waited until he heard Addison’s breathing slow and inched closer under the sleeping bag. He carefully sidled up to his friend and wrapped his arm slowly…so slowly over Addison’s chest, trying not to wake him. He just wanted to sleep next to him, feel his body heat, listen to him breathe. “Snuggle up, buddy. Let’s keep warm.” Addison whispered so quietly Gabriel almost didn’t hear him. Gabriel felt his entire body flush with heat at the words. His heart began to race and his penis swelled up inside his pants under four layers of clothing. He pulled Sleeper tightly into his body. His hand found the zipper on the front of Sleeper’s coat and unzipped it inch by slow inch to keep any sound from escaping. His breath was coming fast. They could be quiet. Everyone was so tired they were deep in slumber. Addison lay completely still not denying Gabriel’s touch, sending a trembling thrill coursing through him. There was something intensely exciting about moving this slow and quiet forcing himself to keep half his awareness focused on the group around them. Once the zipper was down, Gabriel went to work on the buttons of Addison’s uniform shirt one excruciating button at a time by feel. Addison’s breathing had increased. Underneath lay a thermal shirt layer that was hugged tightly to Sleeper’s muscular warm body. Gabriel let his hand wander over the feel of his chest and stomach with no thoughts of the lessons Andrew had taught him that first time so many weeks ago. Gabriel’s mind was consumed with the pleasure of touching Addison, nothing more and every movement sent waves of tingling sensation to his groin. He was grinding up against Sleeper’s hip, very slow. He felt Sleeper’s arm move slightly and his hand rub against his crotch. The involuntary moan almost escaped from his throat. He dropped his hand down to Sleeper’s belt, loosening it but not completely undoing it where it might create noise. He next found the button on his pants. Sleeper was executing a similar process on Gabriel’s uniform. A small rustle could be heard when Gabriel was forced to pull the loop off the button, and they both froze to listen for any change in the men around them. Nothing. Gabriel boldly unzipped Sleeper’s two pants layers and Sleeper lifted his hips slightly so Gabriel could push the thermal layer and underwear down to his thighs and they both sighed when Gabriel wrapped his hand around Addison’s hard member. Sleeper’s hand was inside Gabriel’s pants stroking his large engorged penis in synchronized movements. Gabriel rolled Sleeper slowly onto his side facing away. He pulled everything down to just below his testicles after briefly letting Sleeper’s penis out of his grip. Sleeper drooled saliva into his hand and reached back to rub it on Gabriel’s penis then repeated the process to slick his hole. Then he grabbed Gabriel’s penis again and guided it between his cheeks to his opening. Gabriel shifted closer, hoping the noise wasn’t enough to wake anyone. He knew he should take some time to open Sleeper up with a finger or two, but he didn’t want to wait, and Sleeper seemed eager to have him go ahead so he pushed gently forward with his hips. He felt a resistance and pulled Addison’s hips back using his penis as a handle to apply more force feeling his own body shudder with the enticing expectation of the warm tightness of Addison’s hole. He buried his face in the hood covering Addison’s neck and whispered “I need you. I need you so bad, Addison.” After their argument last night which in Gabriel’s mind was emotionally painful this felt like Addison’s apology and his mind and body sang together with relief and desire. Addison didn’t hate him, wasn’t pushing him away. He seemed to want this as much as Gabriel and the happiness that brought electrified him. This excitement was so much different than that first time five weeks ago. This was only him and Addison, together wanting the same closeness, wanting to give and take the same kind of pleasure using the physical to express the emotional and using the emotional to heighten the physical like a cycle of expression that was so smooth and balanced between them it felt like a separate state of consciousness. He finally pushed inside and Addison stiffened with a sharp intake of breath. “Shhhh. I will go slow.” He soothed the beautiful man nestled up against him. Gabriel moved his other arm up, snaking it between Addison’s neck and shoulder to wrap around his chest. Ever so slowly, he sank deeper into Addison, the movement nowhere near what he really wanted to do but at the same time so much more pleasurable with the extended duration of it. It was that small sip of water when you are dying of thirst, the kind where you think you can taste the water when you know it has no flavor and every part of your tongue surges forward to bathe in the satisfying wetness. A gulp gets the job done with indifference. A sip milks every speck of pleasure the water has to give, lets it linger for its full effect and makes the dryness of your mouth bloom like the cracked cake of desert dirt after a rainstorm. Oh this was so much better than the first time. It was deeper and broader because the connection joined them beyond where they touched and in that moment Gabriel knew sex could give them so much more than just the satisfaction of a physical need. It could heal. It nourished his heart, his mind, and even his soul that should have been solely God’s domain. He didn’t even have to move much to feel the sinking pull of Addison’s beckoning desire and he couldn’t separate it from his own. Addison was squeezing down on his penis with every stroke Gabriel made on Addison’s member in his hand. Their breath was synchronized, coming faster and shallower. Gabriel wanted to feel Addison ejaculate before him, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to wait that long. Addison’s hand found his wrapped around his chest and he brought Gabriel’s hand up to his mouth to press it hard against his lips and suddenly Gabriel heard his friend give four silent grunts while Addison’s hole gripped down tight onto his penis. Gabriel’s other hand felt a sudden warm wetness from Addison’s penis and the knowledge that Addison had ejaculated cause him to seize his beautiful man in a crushing embrace as he flooded his friend with his seed. Even this orgasm felt different than the ones before. With this one he wanted to implant everything he felt for Addison deep inside him with a desperate hope it would grow. His sperm was a message, his gift of who he was and how Addison made him feel and its fluid warmth would show Addison the beauty of it. This was how Addison could carry a part of Gabriel with him always. A bible verse came unbidden to his mind: James 3:18 ‘And the seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace’. It was his hope that this would join Addison together with him, and that his friend would feel the peace he himself felt when Addison was with him. Gabriel didn’t move when they were finished, and Addison stayed still himself except for returning Gabriel’s hand to his chest. Their breathing slowed, returning to a more normal relaxed inhalation. Gabriel was close to nodding off when he heard sounds from further down the line of sleeping bags. There was a rustling and whispering, and a barely audible moan. He felt Addison’s body shake with a silent chuckle. “We’re not the only ones.” He breathed to Gabriel. That made Gabriel smile, and he hugged Addison tight. **************** Wanker woke up with a start when he felt Footlong press up against his back, bend his hips and knees to bring them up against his own, and throw his arm over him. Okay, that was fine, a little cuddle. Footlong’s warm body felt good. They’d both stripped down to their thermals before climbing into the doubled sleeping bag, neither of them willing to endure getting twisted in their uniforms while they slept and the shelter filled with bodies wasn’t frigid, it was actually cold but comfortable enough that the sleeping bag might actually be TOO hot. He was about to fall back asleep when he recognized what had to be Footlong’s monster dick grind into his ass. He remained completely still, unsure of what to do and if Footlong was doing this in his sleep. He didn’t want to wake anyone up. Then Footlong’s arm moved down to Wanker’s hips to hook his fingers into Wanker’s waistband. It looked like Footlong didn’t care about waking up Wanker. Still, Wanker didn’t move. There was only one thing Footlong was after and Wanker was caught between wanting it to happen and knowing he should stop it. His internal struggle didn’t last long and he told himself he was a stupid fucking idiot when he pulled his own clothes down to his knees to let Footlong do whatever he wanted. Footlong was nowhere near as thick as Sergeant Horvath even if he was close to the same length. Wanker wouldn’t have a problem taking it. It was a little funny to Wanker that Footlong hadn’t even wasted time on being shy about it. It probably said a lot about how Footlong thought of him that he could just take what he wanted without worrying about how Wanker would react. What Footlong was doing might have mattered before, but ever since getting railed by Sergeant Walters, then Sergeant Horvath, then Assmunch fingerbanging his hole, then Zeus fucking him without a single emotion or word said and doing that twice…well he wasn’t sure getting an assfucking meant much of anything. It sure seemed to mean something to the guy doing the fucking though. So if that’s what Footlong wanted, fine. Footlong immediately released his one eyed snake and pushed it between Wanker’s cheeks looking for his hole. Wanker rolled his eyes. “Use some spit, bro.” He whispered. “Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Footlong whispered back. “Never done this.” Wanker quickly felt Footlong roughly wipe a wet hand across his asshole, then he grabbed his dick and led the search with his extended index finger until he located what his dick was looking for. Wanker felt Footlong barge in like an asshole was just going to take a dick as easily as it pushed a turd out. Well, it wasn’t like this was going to be the worst fuck of his life, Wanker thought, and he just relaxed through the tolerable pain of Footlong’s invasion. Better not to prolong it, let Footlong get his nut any way he needed and then they could get back to sleep. “Shit that’s tight.” Footlong gasped. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t wake everyone up. Blow your load and keep it quiet.” Wanker spat with almost no air behind the words. Fuck Footlong was a dumbshit. Footlong was making all sorts of noise, the sleeping bag was rustling with every thrust of his hips. He wasn’t keeping it to a minimum, fucking the long shaft damn near all the way out and then balls deep. Thank God there wasn’t any smacking of skin against skin. But the dumbshit was breathing too loud like a Saint Bernard, probably drooling too. Wanker decided he needed to help this along so he started gripping down on Footlong’s cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Can I cum inside you?” Footlong asked. Aw, how sweet. Dumbshit. “Yes, don’t make a fucking mess in our bag. Just fuck it into me. And shut up!” If this idiot said one more word Wanker would fill his boots with snow. Thankfully, Footlong emptied his balls silently, finally getting the message. His thrusting sped up, then paused, then started again with three slow thrusts, then he spasmed, and buried it all the way inside Wanker’s fuckhole, and Wanker could feel the lengthy shaft thicken up and throb repeatedly as it spewed hot nut gravy deep inside him. For the first time since Footlong started, Wanker had a feeling of pleasure at the moment he knew Footlong’s jizz was filling him. He pushed his ass back to milk it all. Damn, he didn’t expect the rush that brought. A guy he felt nothing for, in fact was a bit irritated with, just used his hole to dump his load and that feeling of trashiness felt so good. “Gotta take a piss.” Footlong whispered, pulling his dick out of Wanker’s leaking ass. Wanker didn’t care. Footlong quietly climbed out of the sleeping bag, threw on his boots and coat and walked around the others to the door. “Wanker.” Came a whisper two guys over. It was Shark. “What?” Wanker whispered back with frustration. “Can I get a turn?” Wanker knew he should be upset for a couple reasons. First being now four of the guys knew. Second that Shark just asked so casually like Wanker was just a whore that was supposed to take dick for anyone. But… Wanker didn’t feel mad or insulted. It was more like a feeling of ‘well why not? My ass can take a dick, you need a hole, so sure, climb on.’ So that’s what he said. “Sure. Climb on.” Shark was far more quiet than Footlong when he moved. It almost seemed like Footlong didn’t really give a shit if anyone heard and found out they were fucking. Of course he didn’t, he wasn’t the one being used like a fuckdoll. He’s not the one who’d get a reputation, that the others would look down on or look at with disgust. Shark came over and climbed inside the bag with Wanker. Footlong came back inside, saw his place had been taken and just climbed into Shark’s bag with no reaction. Shark was a little more hesitant and gentle. Something in Wanker wanted Shark’s hard cock in his ass without delay. He’d seen Shark’s dick in the showers when it was soft and it seemed to be relatively average, but there was something exciting about not knowing what kind of hard dick was going up his ass that made Wanker’s hole hungry. There shouldn’t be any need for spit at this point, Wanker could feel the slippery effect of Footlong’s heavy load greasing his crack. Shark surprised him by pushing him on his back and climbing between his legs. Face to face then. That was fine. He reached down and felt that Shark had already pulled his hard dick out of his bottoms. Wanker took a moment to feel it with a stroke or two. Yeah, definitely average, bigger than his hand but not by much. Decent thickness. He pulled Shark by the dick until it was lined up with his leaking hole. “Go for it, bro.” Wanker whispered. Shark slid easily inside him, the way lubricated by Footlong’s cum so that Shark sank to the balls in one steady and unhurried thrust. “Fuck!” That was the only word Shark said the entire time. He pumped on top of Wanker in a regular rhythm, not breathing hard. Wanker looked into Shark’s eyes, which were watching him as he shoved his cock in and out of the hole beneath him. Just a nice, regular, even stroke that kept up for several minutes. Shark blinked occasionally, but never broke eye contact. Wanker just looked at him with an amused slight grin. Now this was more like it. A nice hole scrubbing, nothing crazy, just a steady pump. It was actually very relaxing. Nothing he had to do except keep his hole exactly where it was. There wasn’t anything emotional about this. He liked that, no confusing feelings or trying to figure out what the other person wanted. He wasn’t trying to cum, or even make Shark cum. No talking. It was all very simple, easy, direct and uncomplicated. “Ay Puta, hurry up!” They heard Puta whisper. “You takin too long. Hazlo más rápido!” Well shit. Wanker knew from the sound of it that Puta expected to get some right after Shark finished. He didn’t know whether to beat the shit out of Footlong for being so loud or thank him. And Puta couldn’t be the only one awake now. Thankfully, anyone else was keeping quiet. Maybe Puta would be the last guy who needed to bust a load out. Wanker did that trick Sergeant Walters told him would move things along, he tightened down on Shark’s cock, then released, then tightened, keeping it up until Shark just stopped moving, still staring at him while his dick pulsed with multiple spurts of cum. He didn’t uselessly ask if he could, didn’t seem to care whether Wanker wanted more cum inside him. Then just as calmly as everything else he’d done, he pulled out of Wanker’s now sloppy hole and climbed out by crawling over the top of Wanker’s head letting his wet cum slimed softening dick slide across Wanker’s face. Not on purpose, just as a careless inconsiderate way to leave. The dismissive act sent an arc of excitement through Wanker. It seemed to say ‘your hole was the only thing that mattered and now that I’m done with it I don’t need to think about you anymore.’ It wasn’t mean or insulting. No one gives a second thought to the sock they shoot their load into before throwing it on the floor next to their bed. Fuck, Wanker felt turned on by that. Puta wasted no time climbing in, his thick curved brown cock already hard and free of his pants. He pulled Wanker’s shoulder and flipped him over on his stomach. Wanker cooperated. Any way Puta needed to fuck him was fine. Puta wasn’t gentle, but he didn’t need to be. “I’m gonna be fast, hermano. I know you want my leche.” He didn’t exactly say it loud, but it wasn’t a whisper either. “For fuck’s sake, shut the fuck up! We can all hear you assholes, we’re trying to get some sleep. Wanker quit being such a slut.” Demon spoke. A few of the other guys agreed. “Fuck him tomorrow.” One guy said. “You’re making it smell like a whorehouse in here.” Another said, sounded like Dimples. Then Sleeper’s voice, “Puta, finish up then everyone go to sleep. I’m sure Wanker will be glad to take care of anyone else in a few hours. We’re stuck here for a few days. You can all get a turn. Just not right now.” There were a few grumbles. “I was gonna get next. Shit.” “I shoulda jumped in after Footlong.” What surprised Wanker, Sleeper and Zeus was how no one said anything about fags, or disgust, or anything negative. True to his word, Puta pounded Wanker’s ass violently for a dozen more strokes and grunted a string of dirty Spanish into Wanker’s ear as he dumped his load to mix it with the previous two and Wanker thought the load must have been massive the way some of it forced its way out around Puta’s hard pole to run down his taint over his balls like a river of cum. So much for not making a fucking mess in his bag. Puta simply collapsed down beside him and pulled the sleeping bag back up to cover them both. “Thanks, Wanker. It was good.” He whispered, sounding sincere while his hand patted Wanker’s ass before reaching down to pull Wanker’s underwear and thermals back up. ***************** They slept for about four hours. Someone had put another section of dead limb on the fire at some point so they still had glowing coals radiating heat. Their little shelter was very well insulated by the packed snow and except for the two doors on either end of the long lean-to very little heat escaped. The heat from their breathing, their body heat, and the small fire was more than enough to keep the inside temperature hovering around 50 degrees Fahrenheit. The only problem was when someone had to go out to use the latrine, but the wind and snow was so violent now no one went out unless they absolutely had to. It was amazing how long you could deny a shit if you didn’t want to. Of course, Wanker couldn’t hold off. His ass was full of cum and he wasn’t sure if he relaxed his asshole whether he needed to shit or it was just the cum, so he bundled up and went to squat over the hole beneath the overhang. Every time the wind swirled into the makeshift latrine his balls felt like they would turn to ice cubes so he pushed and strained to get everything out as fast as possible. He grabbed some snow and dragged it over his hole and crack, throwing it in the hole. Maybe Holler had a better way of shitting outdoors and wiping your ass, he probably grew up without an indoor bathroom. Seemed like exactly something that redneck would have experience with. But for now, Wanker risked frostbite to get the job done, having to endure the pain of frozen fingers to make sure he was scrubbed clean. He had to remove his other glove to wash his hands with snow afterwards and he hurried inside to warm them over the fire pit. He stood there trying to get warm again, wishing he could pull his pants down and warm his ass and balls as well. Sleeper was over by his bag messing with the radio. Wanker gave up trying to get warm, he felt like he could climb inside the coals and it would still take hours before the icy feeling left him, and he went over to Sleeper to help. Communications was his thing, there was nothing he couldn’t do with radio, or telecom. “I got it, Sleeper. What’s our frequency?” Sleeper told him and he set the dial. The radio was working fine now that it had been kept in the warmth of the shelter. “Base, this is Bravo Platoon reporting, over.” Sleeper transmitted. There was a few seconds of silence. “Bravo Platoon, confirmed. Stand by Bravo One. Over.” Another 20 seconds passed. The entire brotherhood had gone still, and were listening. “Good to hear your voice, Bravo One, report. Over.” A different voice said. “Base, Bravo Platoon is sheltered approximately 10 km inside the Veldenstein. Condition optimal. Stand by for location. Over.” Sleeper snapped his fingers at Cellblock. “Cellblock, what’s our coordinates?” Cellblock consulted his map and read off coordinates. Sleeper repeated them over the radio. “Bravo One, Base confirms DD coordinates 49.672205, 11.523606. Standby Bravo One. Over” Another thirty seconds elapsed. “Bravo One, Bravo Rescue’s been looking for you boys. Base has authorized communication on this frequency. Standby. Over.” A few seconds passed. “Bravo Platoon, this is Bravo Rescue, we have your coordinates and will come to you.” Sleeper recognized Sergeant Walters’ voice. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until the sound of Sarge’s voice lifted a weight from his shoulders. “Confirm coordinates. Over.” Sleeper read off their coordinates. “Glad you’re going to join us, Sarge. We’ll have a hot meal waiting for you. What’s your ETA? Over.” “Bravo One, you will maintain proper communication protocol over this frequency. ETA to rendezvous with Bravo Platoon 1600 hours. Over.” Sarge chastised. That was just like him to be a hardass. “Understood Bravo Rescue. Confirm arrival at 1400 hours.” Sleeper tried to resist, but thought the punishment would be worth it. “We’ll let you keep your clothes on this time Bravo Rescue. Safe travels. Over.” “Bravo One, switch to frequency two eight two point eight. Over.” “Copy that Bravo Rescue. Bravo Platoon switching to frequency two eight two point eight. Base, this is Bravo Platoon Out.” “Base Out.” Wanker immediately dialed the frequency in. “Bravo Rescue, this is Bravo One. Over.” Sleeper made his voice extra perky, knowing it was going to get under Sarge’s skin. “Montelongo, I am going to piss in your boots and leave them in the sun.” Sarge growled. Sleeper waited a couple seconds for more to come. “We missed you too, Sarge. Come get your lost boys. Over.” “You all okay? Any problems? Over.” “Negative, Sarge. Alaska, Zeus, Chunk and Olympic got us all set up in a cozy resort in a forest. You’re gonna love it. We are warm and we have no injuries. Just waiting this out. Over.” “Glad to hear it. We aren’t too far from you, it’s just going to take a while to get there. Over.” Sleeper could hear the wind over the radio. Sarge and whoever was with him weren’t near as comfortable as the brotherhood was. “Look for a large rock formation, it’s the only one in this area. It’s about 100 feet long and 30 feet high, you can’t miss it. Over.” “Roger that, Private. Will get there as soon as we can. Bravo Rescue Out.” Sleeper turned to the brothers. “Sarge is on his way. And since I have your attention, let’s get this out of the way. Anyone got a problem with Wanker?” The brothers looked around at each other, trying to gauge if anyone was going to speak up. Everyone seemed a little hesitant. “Now is the time. Get it out if you have something to say.” Sleeper urged. Dumbo cleared his throat. “Wanker, are you a fag?” Zeus growled “Pick another word, Richards. And do it quick.” There was no missing the threat in Zeus’ voice. Sleeper could feel the anger coming off of the giant behind him so strong it nearly pushed him. “Gay.” Dumbo corrected, his face fearful. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, that’s just the word I use.” “Don’t use it.” Zeus commanded. “Ever.” He hammered his point home with an angry stare at every soldier. “Sendahl, do you want to answer? You don’t have to.” “Sure, I don’t care. No, I’m not gay. I just don’t think it’s any big deal taking it up the ass. Lots of guys do it. I was just helping the guys out.” Wanker replied, and the confident casual delivery he used indicated he didn’t truly believe it was anything worth making a big deal about. “Anyone else?” Sleeper asked. Troll spoke up. “Can we ask him questions?” “Yes, but he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to. And he’s our brother, be respectful.” Zeus answered. “Do you suck dick, bro? Or just get fucked?” Troll asked without blinking. Wanker chuckled. “For you guys, yeah I’ll suck dick. No big deal.” There were a couple “hell yeah!” heard from the group, but it was hard to tell who said it. Troll smiled. “Hell yeah.” He repeated. “You’re alright, Wanker.” Maybe it was because none of them had any opportunity to have a date with a woman for six months, and hadn’t even been in the same room with one except for the few female instructors that came through for their training but the Bravos hadn’t responded anything like what Sleeper thought they would. He glanced back at Zeus. He knew what Andrew would do. “Anyone here have a problem if a brother WAS gay? Just because Wanker’s not, doesn’t mean we don’t have a gay brother among us. Is that a problem for anyone?” Sleeper asked. Again, the brothers looked at each other, some trying to see if anyone would speak up, others trying to see if they could tell who might be gay. No one said anything for a full minute before Holler spoke up. “I ain’t never been round no gay boys, Sleeper. I think I might be afeared if I was to know we got a gay boy here. I don’t mean ‘em no harm or nuthin’, and I don’t hate ‘em I just would be thinkin’ all the time that they was gonna try to do sumthin’ to me.” “Puta, no body gonna put dey dick in you.” Puta joked. “We no wanna break you little fragile body.” Everyone laughed, even Holler. “Some body try sumptin’ you send ‘em to Wanker, he take care of it. Or Zeus and he gonna strike dem down.” Everyone took a moment, and then Cellblock blurted out after having put it together faster than anyone else. “Wait. Julio… you’re … uh … you said ‘we’… Puta just shrugged. “Jess, so what? But I no get fucked. I no like da dick in my culo. It no feel good.” Well that was a big surprise to Sleeper. Almost as big a surprise as Zeus. Andrew had read it all wrong. The entire brotherhood was shocked speechless. “What?” Puta asked. “My brothers no love me no more?” That seemed to break the frozen silence and all the guys, even Holler, surrounded Puta in a group hug, with the guys closest moving aside so the others could push in and give Puta a hug or a pat, or rub his head with a smile. Sleeper turned to Zeus to see his face was wet with tears. He saw Zeus smile, but not at him. Sleeper turned to see Puta looking back at Zeus with a smile of his own that said ‘it’s alright’. Then he looked at Sleeper and winked. He guessed Puta didn’t miss much and suddenly all the sly looks and stares back in the barracks after that Saturday night made a different kind of sense. Puta broke away after the brothers got done and came over to Sleeper and Zeus. Wanker seemed to have drawn a small crowd. Sleeper didn’t have to guess what Wanker would be doing in the hours before Sarge arrived. He’d have to make sure they got the place aired out or replaced the smell of sex with something else. They might have to use some wet wood on the fire and endure a bit of a smoke out. “Gabriel, you no worry, okay? I keep your secret. But no body gonna care. If dey no care about me, is no way dey gonna hate you.” Zeus grabbed Puta and crushed him in a smothering hug. Puta put his arms around Zeus’ big body, looking like being smashed by a giant felt like a soft comfortable embrace. “But maybe if your boyfriend let me, I can kiss you? Just a kiss for you beautiful soul.” Sleeper was about to give a nod to Zeus, but Zeus just bent down without a glance and pressed his lips to Puta’s. It was nothing extreme or anything of import, just a gentle ‘thank you’. Sleeper had to smile. So Zeus didn’t have to swallow a guy whole to kiss him. And Zeus didn’t ask for permission, from anyone. Sleeper already knew that when Zeus decided something you weren’t left with a lot of choice and the incredible thing was he didn’t feel resentment at not having a choice. It ended up feeling like because Zeus decided it, that it was the right thing to do. Choice? Gods like Zeus turned ordinary mortals like him into adoring worshippers, that was the choice. It would always be the only choice. Puta sighed and moved back. “I better get in line for Wanker. But maybe we should put up a wall?” Sleeper nodded. “Yeah, let’s not make this difficult on the guys. A little privacy will keep things from getting out of hand.” And a glance over at the group said it was just in time. About ten of the guys had Wanker on his knees while they surrounded him. “Hey! Jesus bro’s! Let’s get some kind of privacy going before you get down to business. Not everyone wants to see that.” Sleeper called out. Most of the guys had the decency to look slightly ashamed. Sleeper noticed a lot of dick re-tucking going on. Damn, these horny fuckers were going to flood Wankers insides with so much cum he wouldn’t need to eat dinner tonight. They quickly had a curtained barrier thrown up made from a few sleeping bags and some paracord that created a room about six feet square that hung from the wood frame of the lean-to. It wouldn’t handle a lot of sound, but at least no one had to watch Wanker taking a train. Besides, Wanker wasn’t the loud one early this morning. That had been Footlong and Puta. **************** Wanker felt a little overwhelmed. After the sleeping bags created some privacy, the guys had been patient enough but now weren’t willing to wait in an orderly line so he could deal with them one on one. All ten piled into the room. Wanker kept his tee shirt and thermal top on, as well as his thick socks, but he was naked from the waist down. He knew at least a couple were going to want to fuck his ass. He knelt on his folded up uniform, which provided the perfect level of padding for his knees and he found that amusing. He was busy sucking Troll’s fat cock, burying his face in his pubes, then alternating sucking his hairy nuts in his mouth. The other guys were watching, stroking their hard dicks while waiting their turn. Demon was getting some strange from Footlong’s left hand but he obviously wasn’t comfortable enough to repay the courtesy leaving Footlong to stroke his own dick in his right. Suddenly Cuntwrecker moved. “I’m not waiting. I’m using the other hole.” He said. He kneeled behind Wanker, who dutifully spread his knees apart and pushed his ass out, never breaking stride on Troll’s fat hairy cock. Cuntwrecker… only a few things to say about him. First, he was fit, but his hips were just a bit too wide, giving the impression of being a female from behind. You know, guys had a certain overall shape and that didn’t include childbearing hips. Guys should have wide shoulders that v’eed down to hips that didn’t spread out too far. Maybe it was the combination of Cuntwrecker’s narrow shoulders and sturdy hips. But anyway, he was just an average looking dude, wore glasses, blonde hair and brown eyes. He had a nice face… nice. Like you couldn’t call him ugly… but you couldn’t call him handsome or cute either. He just looked nice. No woman walking alone at night would cross the street to avoid him. No one would notice him in a crowd. But Cuntwrecker, for all his plain niceness and feminine shape, had THREE girlfriends back home that sent him about six letters a week. And supposedly they all knew about the others but were still desperately vying to be first among his harem. And these chicks were fucking smoking hot too. Even Sleeper was shocked at the quality of women Cuntwrecker attracted. Cuntwrecker even said he had to break up with a fourth woman, an older woman, because he just didn’t have time to service them all. It wasn’t a matter of energy or keeping his dick hard, he just didn’t have time. And he said it wasn’t fair to them to make them beg for his attention. He claimed to be able to fuck repeatedly for long periods and they begged him to stop before he was actually tired out. Turns out he didn’t have a problem with them begging him for that. He said he kept going until he made them do it. And then he’d kiss them and head over to the next one while they fell asleep with the type of smile that could only be created by inexhaustible multiple orgasms. And he did all that with a dick that was a little over five inches long. Yeah, it was slightly thicker than average, but it also had a wicked upward curve. And the last thing about Cuntwrecker was that when he came, and he demonstrated it for the Bravos once when he served as Barracks Bitch and was ordered to prove his claim, when he came he could fill half a red solo cup with cum. The first time, and six minutes later he filled the rest of it until it over flowed. Of course, then he was dared to chug it so he clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and poured it down his own throat. While everyone stood shocked and stunned to their very cores, Cuntwrecker fought to stop the heaves that threatened to make him puke it all back up again. He was only partially successful and it was like watching the Space Shuttle blow up all over again as his cheeks ballooned out trying to hold it in. Tears rolled from the corner of his eyes as he swallowed it a second time. Everyone stood silent in deep respect before a huge roar of celebration came from everyone’s lungs. The Bravos did not bestow the honored Title Cuntwrecker for frivolous reasons…. And it was an honored Title, not a nickname. Cuntwrecker, that poor plain man hiding in a woman’s shapely body was everything in bed that ALL of them prayed they could be. But maybe it was like Spiderman’s Uncle Ben said… with great power comes great responsibility… and none of them would use that power for good. Cuntwrecker actually cared about his three girlfriends, wanted to treat them right, was honest with them and did everything he could aside from sex to show them how much he cared. He took the time to answer every letter they sent, and it ate up a lot of his free time and study time. He called them every weekend, one after the other, asking them about how they were doing and what they did, listening to their stories. Cuntwrecker deserved that power more than any of them. He used it for good. Before Cuntwrecker could bend his curved dick down to slip it up into Wanker’s ass, Troll said “We know you like to go for a while, Cuntwrecker. So if someone wants to step in, you let ‘em. Okay?” Cuntwrecker smiled his nice plain smile and nodded. “Got it, Troll. No problem. But it’s been a long time, first one will be quick.” Cuntwrecker was actually really curious to find out if his dick did the same thing to a dude that it seemed to do to women. As a considerate lover would, he spat a wad of saliva on Wanker’s asshole before pushing in. Wanker grunted around Troll’s dick. “Almost there, buddy.” Troll said. “I’m going to shoot in your mouth. Just keep going. Just like that.” They were speaking very quietly to keep this from bothering the rest of the brothers close by. “Oh fuck… Cuntwrecker… shit… you’re hitting everything up there.” Wanker gasped, taking his mouth off of Troll but keeping up motion with his hand. “I’m gonna cum, Wanker, put it back in your mouth.” Grunted Troll. Wanker immediate dived back on his cock and in a couple strokes he felt Troll’s warm load coating his tongue. It wasn’t a large amount, so Wanker just let it go down his throat with his saliva. Cuntwrecker shifted position mid thrust to throw one leg up on Wanker’s back so he could fuck him sideways. The change in Wanker was immediate. Troll had withdrawn his dick and moved aside, but still stayed. Wanker was bucking back into him. “Fuck Cuntwrecker, if this is what you do to your girlfriends… holy shit.” Cuntwrecker chuckled. Looks like his dick worked on either sex, and he felt proud. “This isn’t even the best position, Wanker. They really go crazy doing it missionary. I’m going to have to try that out on you. But not this time. You’re busy, and I’m about to shoot my first load.” And with that he really laid into Wanker’s ass knowing his curved dick was putting pressure on both sides of Wanker’s guts. He felt his nuts start churning and his asshole began to tingle signaling the impending flood he was going to deposit up Wanker’s hole. When he felt the cum start boiling he plowed into Wanker’s ass with five powerful thrusts and almost drove Wanker to the ground. He slowed his strokes as his huge load spewed out up inside his fellow soldier’s guts and he kept stroking with lazy movements until he was completely finished. He’d worked up a little sweat, but he could wait for another couple of the guys did their thing before he worked out a second load. The only bad thing about his dick was that its curve made it difficult for a good blowjob. So pussy or ass just made everything easier. Wanker nearly lost it when he felt the spread of warmth flooding him. Why was he still surprised that the moment a guy came inside him he got that turned on feeling? Fuck it drove him crazy. He didn’t feel anything about the fuck… well except for Cuntwrecker’s dick, that did feel absolutely incredible rearranging his insides and yanking his sphincter every which way. But it didn’t make his dick hard or make his balls tighten up. But feeling the cum filling him up, THAT was what made his eyes roll back. It felt like he could shoot even though his dick wasn’t hard. It was almost worth asking if Sergeant Horvath could fuck him again. He’d definitely feel THAT fuck and the thought of Horvath’s huge load filling him gave him that tingle again. Shit, he was going to have to talk to Puta about this, maybe he’d know why getting loads up his ass got him cranked. Junior decided to mount up next, while Duck stuck his 7 inch dick in his mouth. Not accounting for second turns, he might be able to wrap this up in an hour. ******************* “You know you can go join them Zeus, if you want. I’m not going to get hurt.” Sleeper lied. This wasn’t a test. Sleeper felt he needed to let Zeus know it was okay to explore more gay stuff. He wasn’t going to get that from Sleeper. Sleeper didn’t know the first thing about gay stuff. Maybe he could talk to Puta, but Sleeper decided maybe not. It was that kiss that didn’t sit quite right with him, the way Puta just did his smooth, suave Latino thing and got a kiss from Zeus. But Sleeper knew if Zeus did go behind that curtain it would hurt. He had a sick feeling in his stomach just thinking it might happen. He was about to just tell Zeus he didn’t want him to, when Zeus answered. “Why would I do that, Sleeper? I have you. And even if I didn’t, I don’t think I would.” Zeus said in that matter of fact straight even tone of voice. When Zeus spoke it just seemed like whatever he said was how the world was in reality, and anything else you thought it was became fiction. If he said ‘No Sleeper, the sky is green.’ he’d look at the sky and suddenly he find that sure, it might LOOK blue, but it was really a blue green. In fact, there was probably more green than blue there. Well if there’s more green than blue that would make it green, right because the blue hardly counted. And the words he just said ‘I have you’ shot right into Sleeper’s heart. It was true. Zeus did have him. He wasn’t going anywhere. He’d give Zeus anything he wanted, would demand nothing from Zeus. Yeah… Zeus had him. And while a small part of him wondered how and why… the vast majority of him was simply content and happy that he was such a rotten fucking lucky prick. “Hey Zeus, suit up, let’s go check the perimeter.” He said. “Okay.” And Sleeper had a flashback moment to the night before, after he asked Zeus to share a sleeping bag and it all falling apart. That same ‘Okay’. No inflection or indication of whether the suggestion pleased him or angered him. It wasn’t what he thought it was at all. Zeus just didn’t express things. Sleeper thought maybe that was a fortunate thing. If Zeus’s straight even tone could get you to agree to just about anything, Gods help us all if Zeus unleashed actual feelings into his words. But Sleeper did wonder why Zeus held back all the time, and it couldn’t be because he realized his effect on people. Zeus was completely clueless of the level of worship he demanded. They put on their level 7’s. Sarge had paid attention and made sure Zeus had a suit that fit his size. They pulled up their balaclavas and Sleeper told Cellblock to keep an eye on things, make sure the curtain didn’t get out of hand, and to keep an ear out for the radio. Sarge would radio in with an update when he could. He told Cellblock he and Zeus were going to check the perimeter and put out a signal flare on the rock formation. Cellblock wished them luck. The last guy to go use the latrine said the snow was pretty deep, over three feet. And the wind was really tearing up, even in the protection of the rock formation. He suddenly thought of something and called to Spaghetti to see if they had anything to measure the temperature and wind speed. Spaghetti was a lazy name. He wasn’t Italian. His last name was Bergettay. Probably French or Belgian. But it sounded like Spaghetti. Nicknames seemed to follow one of three rules - some kind of personal descriptor like Troll or Shark. Something they could poke fun at you with like Assmunch and Wanker. Or something stupid and completely off the mark like Sleeper and Spaghetti so it would get under your skin. Spaghetti said they did have a weather sensor that would tell barometric pressure and temperature, but it didn’t have the piece that measured wind speed, which was a three foot rod with a top made of spokes that had cups attached, and a wire ran back to the unit to give a readout. Sleeper didn’t care about wind speed… what he cared about was wind chill, which could be calculated from temperature and wind speed. Sleeper went ahead and took the book sized unit. It had a grey screened digital readout like a digital watch or calculator only the screen was about 8 inches tall and six wide. Super fancy. Spaghetti had cycled it on and the readout was showing a temperature in the shelter of 57 degrees. Practically tropical. The brothers had done an amazing job for having to throw something together in just a few hours. Sleeper suddenly thought of the other Platoons. He would have to ask Sarge for an update when he got here. Calling into Base to get gossip was not authorized. “C’mon Zeus, let’s get this done.” “Wait sleeper, we need eye covering if we’re going out in the open. The temperature is bad enough, but we’ll be exposed to the full wind. First rule, no exposed skin.” Well shit, that blows plan number one, Sleeper thought. He planned to get away from the brothers so he could kiss Zeus. Puta’s kiss put a sour pit in his stomach. He knew Zeus liked to kiss him and he’d fought it before feeling it was too intimate. But that was all changed now. He WANTED to show Zeus he was okay with being intimate. Everything that had happened in the last 24 hours since they’d left the barracks had built up to drive Sleeper’s emotions for Zeus into new territory. The nothing argument over the sleeping bag. The way Zeus just took charge in the shelter doing what Sleeper had fucked up the previous night, zipping their bags together so that Sleeper HAD to join him. Zeus didn’t talk about it or whine, didn’t want to share his feelings, he just did the thing he wanted to do. Then, when he snuggled up to Sleeper, waiting until everyone was asleep. Then taking charge and taking what he wanted, something Sleeper himself couldn’t manage to make happen the night before even though that’s what he was going for. Then that feeling of connection when Zeus held him, both of them cumming from almost no kind of movement just the amazing feel of being together, from Zeus’s arms squeezing him, the sound of his breath through his mouth. And then falling asleep just like that so relaxed like being in Zeus’s arms was the best place in the whole world. Zeus hadn’t even moved or pulled out when they were woken up by Wanker’s gangbang, or rather Demon throwing a justified fit. And they fell asleep again just like they did before. They only slept for four hours, but it was the best night’s sleep Sleeper had ever had. Then, the brotherhood’s response to Wanker, then Puta, and Puta coming to free Zeus of concern. And of course, the kiss that Sleeper thought he was okay with but found out the more he thought about it the more he didn’t like it. Finally, Zeus’s easy dismissal of getting to participate in whatever meat fest was happening behind that curtain and the words ‘I have you’. Sleeper had never felt so out of his element while still so comfortably happy. So yeah, Zeus was going to get a kiss, as many kisses as he wanted.

Nah, Kevin and Tom are necessary. The civilian/military relationship and the difficulties it brings (the separations, deployments, the feeling of ‘where’s home’, how desperate you get not being on American soil in CONUS, that incredible feeling when you DO get home) is one of my original goals for this story. This is not a story that ends here. It should get even better when the Bravos head to their next duty assignment and they are no longer insulated by their special training.

ZEUS Gabriel didn’t care for his nickname Zeus. Allowing himself to be referred to as a God, even a made-up one, was prideful. Andrew… he wouldn’t refer to his friend as Assmunch in his head… Andrew said you didn’t get to choose your nickname. Even calling Andrew that word offended his sense of propriety. But an ass was the name for a donkey, and it was in the Bible, so although it rubbed him the wrong way he could allow himself to use it because Andrew insisted. He could do it for Andrew. The justification still felt uncomfortable. Andrew had gone home for his father‘s funeral and was supposed to return on Monday morning. Gabriel wanted to tell Andrew he understood how he felt but it wasn’t the right time. Gabriel was just ten years old when his father had died. The old tractor had slipped gear when his father had gone to move a thick branch that had fallen from the old oak in the north field. Two of his older brothers had been walking the field and saw but they were too far away to stop it from happening. He’d been crushed under the huge rear wheel and they hadn’t gotten him to the hospital before his lungs filled with blood. Death on a farm was simply a fact of life and life was hard. You worked from before the sun came up to when it went down, you didn’t whine or complain, everyone pulled their weight and there wasn’t much time for softness and sympathy. All his eleven sisters and brothers did their part. Gabriel was the youngest boy, and he had one sister that was younger. His mother cried on the day his father was buried, and that was all because grief was self-indulgent. The fields still needed plowed, the cows fed and milked, their two horses, chickens, pigs and dogs needed caring for. The cats took care of themselves, plenty of mice and small game for them. Besides, the cats preferred to stick to themselves, barely acknowledging anyone who walked by. The cats also had a job, and they mostly did it well. It didn’t mean he didn’t miss his father, or wasn’t affected when he died. You just accepted it and moved on. Dwelling on what couldn’t be changed was not the Gunnerson way. Hard work was the Gunnerson way, you did your best, did the right thing, made no excuses, minded your business, devoted yourself to God, your family and community and left each day complete and unwasted. At ten, he’d struggled with his father’s death, but his brothers and mother had only allowed a short time for him to be sad before setting him straight. His family wasn’t cold or unemotional, they just accepted that there was a time and place for indulging your feelings. His brothers had actually taken the time individually to explain that it was okay to remember and miss their father, but neglecting the living was an insult to the memory of the dead. Honor your father by fulfilling your responsibilities and looking forward, not back. “Sleeper, do you think Andrew will be back for graduation?“ he asked. Sleeper was working on his dress uniform for graduation.Sergeant Walters said it didn’t matter what the weather was going to be, it was going to happen. They were about to get hammered with a system that was going to have winds up to 60 kph and dump up to four feet of snow, and it was coming tonight. “It doesn’t look like it Zeus but its just a ceremony. It doesn’t mean he won’t get his qualification. He took his test before he left, felt good about it.” Sleeper explained. Gabriel had already pressed, polished, shined, and covered his uniform then hung it in his locker. He’d still go over it again Monday night because he wouldn’t leave anything to chance. “Do you think we’ll see him again?” Sleeper froze holding a shoe in one hand and a polishing cloth in the other. “I hope so Zeus.” he replied softly. There was something about his best friend that brought out the best in him and he didn’t feel quite the same without him. No one knew what their next duty station would be and they wouldn’t find out until later this week when they got their orders officially. The entire Company had been hand selected from different Units for this special 6 month training in Germany at the NATO training base, but they weren’t told why, or what the Army intended to do with them, only that it would be valuable to further their careers if they accepted. They could all go to different Regiments, or all to one. There were 61 Infantry Regiments possible currently. Gabriel thought their performance during this training would dictate their next assignment. It would all depend on which area you excelled in. A couple of the guys had to repeat tests and qualification but since they were still here he assumed they managed basic standards. “But if we go to Ranger School we will, right?” Gabriel asked the beautiful man he knew he was falling for. Addison was more than just a good soldier, more than an exciting body with a gorgeous handsome face. Addison had a feeling to him that was warm and safe to Gabriel. He still hadn’t reconciled acting on his sexual feelings for Addison and they hadn’t repeated it mostly because Gabriel knew it was important that they don’t do anything that would cause eyebrows to raise. But Gabriel wanted to do it again, and more. At home, before the Army, Gabriel found it easy to steer his mind away from illicit thoughts of men. Even in the time before he came to Germany when he saw a fellow soldier he considered attractive he could dismiss it as simple recognition of physical qualities. But Sleeper was GOOD, all the way inside. Yes, Addison knew he was attractive, flaunted himself continuously and he was prideful. Andrew called him cocky and arrogant. Gabriel felt that wasn’t exactly true. Arrogance would mean Addison used his attractiveness against others to gain advantage, or alternatively considered himself above others who weren’t entitled to be his equal. Addison didn’t behave that way, ever, with anyone. He helped anyone who asked, treated the entire Company with kindness and respect and never said a bad word about a single person. There was a graciousness to him in all things. It was like Addison didn’t see people in that way. Even if someone messed up, he didn’t get angry at them, he made it clear he was angry about what they did, not them. If one of the guys insulted him, he just smiled because insults didn’t bother him. He was much like Gabriel in that way. Insults said everything about the person expressing them, and nothing about the person being insulted. That didn’t mean Addison put up with any garbage from the guys. It was another thing that pleased Gabriel about Addison. He seemed to know exactly the appropriate response and level to defuse a potentially heated situation while still establishing such behavior wasn’t going to be tolerated by him. Addison was just perfect. He had a nobility in everything he was. Perhaps it had something to do with his family. Addison had let slip to Andrew that his ancestors had come to America in the 1630’s to help with the spread of Catholic missions in what was now Florida. Sent by the King of Spain, Addison’s distant ancestor was a minor noble. Of course, it was a certain kind of exile because the real power was in Mexico where there was gold, silver and gems and the Church held sway over the natives. Florida had nothing. All the hopes the Spanish had for Florida came to nothing, and by the mid 1600’s it was deemed a backwater colony that was worth no more than land. Gabriel knew it was wrong to listen to their conversation, but Addison could see him sitting there talking to Andrew on his bunk not far away so a small part of him argued that he had Addison’s permission to hear it. He knew it was rude and improper and he’d have been strapped for it when he was younger. Had been, in fact. Spare the rod, spoil the child as the Bible said. He was an I’ll behaved child, so it was only right that his father corrected him with a strapping. He watched Addison give his shoe a final close inspection. “The heel, Addison. You’re going to need the paint marker.” He observed to his friend. Addison sighed. “I’ll get it tomorrow. We have to mop now, so we can get to the laundry. Won’t have another chance today. We won’t go to Ranger School right away, Zeus. We need Airborne qualification. That’s the next step. Then RASP, where they put us through the ringer to see if we have what it takes. Those are both in Ft. Benning, GA, where we did our first Advanced Individual Training out of Basic. But Ranger School’s there too, that’s where the 75th Regiment is. I think they’ll send us all to Ft. Benning. I just find it odd that they wouldn’t tell us why they offered us THIS training, here. It was like Basic, AIT and specialty training on steroids and everyone had to master everything, not just their specialty. You have to wonder... all these guys have some kind of special quality, you can just see it in our performance on all the drills in the field, qualification modules and tests. None of us are lazy, stupid, or just coasting in the Army. We’re all set on going career. So it makes me think we’re some kind of test group. I can read between the lines and when they told us this was just another Advanced Individual Training and that‘s what we’d tell our families it sounded like they didn’t want us or anyone else to know what it REALLY was. And if they aren’t done with us, it may be a while before they let us become Rangers.” Addison was just thinking out loud, Gabriel knew. They’d all wondered what this training was for. After regular AIT they were given a list of duty stations to choose from. It didn’t mean you’d get any of your choices, you just went where they needed you. But with this training they hadn’t gotten a list. Which meant the Army had plans for them. At least that’s what Gabriel thought. The few conversations with the others said everyone suspected the same thing. This wasn’t ordinary in any way. “I hope we stay together, Addison.” Gabriel said seriously. He hoped Addison read between THOSE lines and understood he wasn’t talking about the Bravos. Addison smiled at him with that charming handsome face. Just then, Puta walked up. “Hey Puta, are you and your boyfriend gonna to do da mopping?” he said with a grin at Sleeper. Gabriel scowled at him. Sleeper couldn’t ignore that Zeus seemed insulted by being referred to as his boyfriend. Sleeper put his hand on Gabriel’s arm. “He’s joking, Zeus. You really need to read people better. Maybe we’ll work on that. Yeah Puta, we were just about to start. We’ll start out here. Socks only from now on.” I’ll let dem know.” Puta gave Zeus an apologetic look. “It was a joke, Zeus. You no have to strike me down.” Gabriel suppressed his frustration. Addison said this was how brothers behaved with teasing and insults. His own brothers had never done that. By example he was taught you said what you thought directly and good men weren’t sly or denigrating to the people they cared about. It didn’t bother him as much when Addison and Andrew behaved that way towards each other, but it was still wrong. After they got the barracks mopped, which took a while, they gathered their laundry and went to the laundromat. On Saturdays and Sundays they generally had permission to travel the base on task but they’d better have a reason to be somewhere if they were asked by a superior. They weren’t given total freedom because it was still a NATO training base and the powers that be didn’t want too much interaction between their Company and their international guests. Gabriel didn’t actually know why, but that was his guess. Other American soldiers were allowed to mix. It was just their Company that wasn’t. But then, they also weren’t allowed much interaction with the Americans either. It was more than odd. They all knew it was likely that Sergeant Walters and the Lieutenant knew about their Saturday night party. And their alcohol stash. Gabriel took note of every camera inside and outside the barracks. He’d also determined that their superiors allowed it to happen perhaps as a test. It could also be that Command was trying to allow them to let off the steam and youthful energy that built up over the week of being hyper focused, serious and full of pressure to perform knowing the Platoon was on near lockdown and would need an outlet. Sergeant Walters knew EVERYTHING that happened inside and outside the barracks. Gabriel was certain the other Sergeants and Lieutenants knew too. And they never got an unannounced visit from 2000 to 0000. After midnight it was anyone’s guess. But they were left alone to have their crazy Saturday night parties for four hours. At 1430, the barracks phone rang. Private Sendahl was tasked with barracks communication today so everyone knew he would answer. Everyone checked the message board just outside the entry door every time they left or entered, but sometimes orders came by phone. Of course, with Andrew gone Addison was in charge and he’d given out the barracks duties this morning. At 1500 Gabriel would have to walk the entire barracks for inspection. At some point today or tomorrow morning the Sergeants would be looking in every crack and crevice to find the smallest speck of dust or equipment out of place or off by a half inch. The entire platoon was finishing up last minute cleaning and arranging determined by Addison’s duty list. Saturday nights and Sundays they didn’t have a duty Sergeant watching them from the small alcove off the open bay so Sendahl... Wanker, Gabriel reminded himself, had to run over to get the phone. “Guys, it’s Assmunch!” Cade Sendahl yelled into the bay. Addison appeared quickly to take the phone. “BUDDY! Damn, I was hoping you’d call. How are you holding up?” Addison remained quiet, listening to whatever Andrew responded. “Yeah, Zeus and I got your stuff secured. Zeus did the packing so you know it’s done right but you can kick his ass if it gets to you and something is fucked up. Tomorrow I’ll have Bootlicker take your issued gear and sign it back in at the Quartermaster’s before the snow gets too deep.” Another pause. “No, we don’t know either. I don’t think it’s a secret, just that they are waiting to tell us. You know how it is.” The rest of the platoon had been slowly gathering as the word spread that Andrew was on the phone. “Yeah, probably not but I think wherever we’re going will be together. At least most of us will, you know everyone met or exceeded performance expectations so it’s just a matter of if they want to carve us up. A few of us are betting on Ft. Benning for Airborne qualification but who knows.” Sleeper was sitting on the edge of the Sergeant’s desk playing with the phone cord while he listened. “I hope so too, buddy. He’s right here. Zeus, Assmunch wants you next. The rest of you hang around, he wants to talk to you too but make it quick he’s calling long distance.” Gabriel took the phone from Sleeper’s hand. “Hi Andrew….Yes, we know. It will probably be Tuesday during or after graduation……Friday? I don’t know why they’d make you wait that long but if you want to call us on Wednesday we’ll tell you what we know……Me too, Andrew…..Julio? Okay.“ Gabriel held the phone out to Puta. “You’re next.” There was only a little surprise that leaked through when he said it. The order that Andrew called for them was being noted. Puta wasn’t usually one of Andrew’s top choices. Even Puta seemed surprised. “Ay, Puta. You got everyting tightened down over der?” Puta‘s smooth accented voice said. “Jess... we no slackin’ off but dat Puta Footlong embarrassed us by finishing da 4 miles way before da rest of us. We gonna tie him to his rack and beat him wit our boots tonight. It’s no fair, he got three legs to run wit. Si, hermano mio. Yo tambien.” Puta held the phone out to Wanker. “Here Puta.” Wanker held the phone to his head for a half a minute, just uttering an ‘uh huh, okay. Yes. Sure Assmunch.” then he passed the phone to Troll. Slowly over the next twenty minutes, Assmunch had talked to everyone in the whole platoon. After Andrew hung up, the mood was generally happy and upbeat, but with an underlying current of somberness. Most of them wanted Assmunch with the platoon. Without him, Gabriel felt like they were missing a crucial limb, or marching into battle without a weapon. They were gradually filtering back to the duties they’d been taking care of before the phone call when the door at the end of the bay flew open. “BRAVO PLATOON FORM UP!” Sergeant Walters yelled at the top of his lungs. They all scrambled to form up at attention. It took a full 45 seconds for everyone to get to the bay from where they’d been cleaning the barracks. Sergeant Walters looked angry. “You grunts think you’re done? When I say fall in you don’t kiss your girlfriends goodbye, you don’t wipe your ass, you don’t let your FUCKING FEET TOUCH THE GROUND! Fifty! Now!” As one they flung themselves to the floor and started pumping out the push-ups. While they paid their penance, Sergeant Walters continued. “ECWCS... that’s level 6 EXTENDED Cold Weather uniform Private Demon, if I catch you without them again you’re scrubbing my barracks roof free of every spec of snow. You have 12 minutes to get to bugout location.” He turned and left through the door. “You think we’re going somewhere?” Wanker piped up first. He was hammering through his pushups almost doing two for everyone else’s one. Footlong was not far behind him. The rest kept a slower steady pace. “Guess we’ll find out.” Cellblock said. Gabriel liked Quincy Washington. The man the rest called Cellblock was a fit 185 lbs of the most amazing dark skin, with large hands and feet, long sleek legs, no body fat and a behind that was almost as nice as Addison’s. Being from rural Wisconsin, Gabriel had never seen anyone like him. He was absolutely beautiful and not long after he’d met him Gabriel knew he was a good man. And he was smart. Gabriel thought he might actually be smarter than Bootlicker. After Addison, Quincy was one of the soldiers in his platoon Gabriel had to remind himself not to have illicit thoughts about. It only took them a minute to complete their exercise after which they all scrambled to don their ECWs and get out the door for the run to building 237. When they arrived, the other Platoons were already in formation. They wasted no time assuming their space between the Alphas and the Charlies. Private Lamont scanned their ranks as they passed by, and Gabriel saw a puzzled surprise on his face. His face never left forward, but he spoke out the side of his mouth. “Where’s Assmunch?” He whispered loudly enough for his voice to carry, and no more. “Home.” “Fuck. Booted?” “Funeral.” “Fuck.” “Listen up!” Sergeant Horvath yelled from the front. “Platoon leaders front and center!” Lamont, Taylor, and Kincaid stepped away and moved to the front. Addison, being Andrew’s second joined them. Gabriel couldn’t hear what they were being told, but they soon returned with a package sealed in plastic. “Squad leaders, to me.” Addison announced. Privates Washington, Simmons and Davidson stepped to Addison’s side. “Demon, check your boots and tighten those laces.” Addison said before turning to his squad leaders. Lamont, Taylor and Kincaid were doing the same with their Platoons. “Zeus, come up here. You’re acting squad leader while I command the Platoon.” Addison opened the package and produced four sealed envelopes that he handed to the squad leaders. “Those are your orders. BRAVOS, LOAD UP IN THE TRANSPORT AT THE SOUTH OF THE LOT. MOVE OUT!” As one, the Bravos grunted in a yell “UNH!” And ran in step to the transport, the squad leaders running beside and slightly behind them. Addison was out front. Gabriel saw that the other Platoons were doing the same toward their transports at the separate cardinal locations of the lot. They packed into the troop transport… and they were packed. Four of the guys sat on the floor in the middle between the feet of the others, and the rest that didn’t have seats on the benches were on someone’s lap. Sendahl had taken Gabriel’s lap. Gabriel didn’t mind. “Listen up!” Addison yelled over the sound of the truck engine. “We’re being dropped at Ottenhoff, 45 clicks due west of Grafenwoehr. When we arrive, get our support transport unloaded. Bootlicker, when does the front of the storm get here?” “Four hours at the earliest, Sleeper.” Bootlicker yelled. “Assuming constant current speed.” Sleeper took a few seconds to think. “I want Squad leaders to get me camp locations by the time we offload. We’re spending the night in the forest, brothers. Time is not on our side. We’re moving out fast so everyone check and double check the soldier next to you.” “Wanker, sit on Troll.” Gabriel ordered. When Wanker moved, Zeus took his orders packet from his coat’s breast pocket and opened it. Inside he found a topographic map of the area. It had a transparent overlay of man made landmarks like roads, towns and farms. “Simmons, Davidson, Washington… let’s confer.” Everyone switched places so the four Squad Leaders could consult their maps. Forty minutes later they poured out of the transport and had the second transport unloaded of their packs and gear. The Platoon made quick work of getting everything on their backs and on two sleds. The Squad Leaders huddled around Sleeper. “Here, Sleeper.” Cellblock pointed to a location 10 km’s to the east inside the forest. “I wish we had a satellite image.” Sleeper mused. “These packs and the sleds will slow us down.” “Some. But The Veldenstein Forest has roads and trails. Yeah, it’s not a direct route, but what we lose in distance we make up because it’s easier ground to travel. Less variations in the terrain.” Cellblock explained. “We assumed our orders were to get back to base. We only have three hours to reach the site and get camp set up before the storm hits. 6 miles gives us a little padding, we can do that in two hours over this terrain, but we have to hustle.” “I confirm mission is to return to base. We’re to rendezvous with the Charlies here, by nightfall tomorrow.” Sleeper pointed to another location on the map. It was 20 km from where their camp would be tonight. On a nice clear day with no snow on the ground, making their target would be a breeze. “Plan a route tonight that will get us there before tomorrow dark. We’ll be marching while it snows, and tonight we’re supposed to get a foot or more so by end of day tomorrow it’ll be two feet deep. There’s going to be problems that will slow us down. If we’ve got to cut across the terrain to do it, then we do it.” “No Sleeper. We stick to the roads.” Gabriel spoke. “We don’t want to go off into the woods on that much fresh snow. We don’t know these woods. You’ve never been in a storm like this, I have. Expect visibility to be limited. We’re going to need every landmark we can use, and roads and trails are best. A foot of snow is manageable in the woods. But by mid day tomorrow we’re going to have problems if we don’t stick to the roads.” Sleeper sharpened his gaze on Zeus. “Can we make it back to base by Wednesday with this snow?” Zeus looked at Cellblock, who shrugged. “Maybe. It will depend on everyone keeping up and the weather. After we leave the Veldenstein, it’s open farmland until we reach the base. But we’re also marching with the Charlies. Too many unknowns.” “Okay. Let’s just focus on the rendezvous with Lamont tomorrow and hope he’s got more intel.” Sleeper decided. The Bravos moved out at a steady jog, choosing to eat up distance with speed. They arrived at their chosen site just as the first snowflakes began. The temperature had plummeted a half hour before. It was expected to drop to 4 degrees by midnight. “Everyone pair up in tents. It’s going to be cold. From now on everyone sticks to their buddy, you don’t go anywhere without him.” Sleeper announced. Dimples, Bootlicker, and Spaghetti I need a breakdown of the gear we have. Zeus, you and I are paired up.” A few of the guys looked at each other and grinned. Gabriel caught it and wondered what that meant. Gabriel erected the tent he and Sleeper would share. He put their packs inside and rolled out their sleeping bags. He watched Sleeper speak with Dimples, Bootlicker and Spaghetti presumably receiving a report on their supplies. Then he went to speak with Cellblock. By the time he returned, Gabriel was heating up a couple MRE’s over a sterno flame. “Thanks, Zeus.” Sleeper said, taking one of the hot meals. While he ate, they talked. “Zeus, you might have the most practical experience out of all of us with this kind of weather and wilderness. What are we looking at? We have three days to get back to base.” Gabriel gave it some thought. He had the map memorized except for the minor topographic features. “Ottenhoff is at a slightly higher elevation than Grafenwoehr, a difference of 60 meters or so. We don’t have to travel the whole uphill, that will help. But the forest isn’t flat, it’s very hilly. Walking through deep snow will tire us out a lot faster, and cut our distance per day down. We need an average of 12 km per day. If we can do 20 tomorrow, that will help but I think it will take everything we have to make 14.” Sleeper was thinking. “Cellblock, come over here.” Sleeper called. “In fact, Mini Hulk (that was Squad Leader Simmons) and Shark (Davidson ) you come too.” The three of them brought their meals over and squatted next to Sleeper. Mini Hulk was a 5’8” block of muscle, nothing but muscle piled on muscle. He looked like a stack of wrapped tires in his insulated uniform. A stack of tires without a discernible neck. You couldn’t see his fiery red hair hidden under his balaclava. Like most of them he’d thrown the hood of his coat back for freedom of movement and vision. Shark just had a strange face and that was the only physically remarkable thing about him. He was 5’10”, 170, light brown hair deep brown eyes. His face seemed to come to a point centered on his nose and mouth, sloping forward from his hairline to his nose. His nose turned up at the tip, and his jaw and front teeth jutted forward before pulling back to an unfortunate chin. His teeth were gapped and misaligned even though they were all there, just a mangled mess of a mouth. Shark was the least insulting nickname they could come up with. Demon wanted to call him Dickshredder. Andrew had vetoed that being more cruel than funny. Shark was wily and could be as vicious as his namesake, as quick to lash out as he was to drop it so that you always had the sense he was never without a plan of attack and escape. Shark would hit and then be gone before you felt the pain. Gabriel was certain the guy had been picked on mercilessly when he was younger. “Who in your squads has experience with deep snow?” Sleeper asked them. He wasn’t talking to Zeus. “Olympic in my squad worked winters at a Vail ski resort and almost made the U.S. freestyle team for the ‘90 Games. He’s got winter rescue training too.” Mini Hulk replied. “And Chunk grew up in Central Washington State. He was saying there’s different kinds of snow and you have to know what you’re dealing with.” “All mine are from the central U.S. or the south.” Shark answered. “No help there.” Cellblock, always patient, spoke last. “Alaska is our guy, boss. Ice, snow, storms, wilderness … he knows it all. He said his father would take them out hunting in some awful weather.” Sleeper nodded. “Looks like we have our guide team. Get them over here.” They all downed the last of their meals while the others joined them. Sleeper had Wanker police their trash. A light snowfall of large flakes had started. The sky was already dark and the eerie quiet was only broken by the hushed conversations happening around the camp. “Alaska, you take the lead.” Sleeper began. “We go where you say, when you say, how you want it to happen. Zeus, Chunk and Olympic are your team. You all have different experience with this weather, terrain and movement. Don’t take crazy risks, but let’s try to reach the rendezvous before the Charlies.” Sleeper waited a moment before continuing. “We’ve got level 7’s in the gear they sent. Do you think we need to suit up?” Alaska spoke up. “Not tonight. It’s going to be cold tomorrow morning, but unless the wind during the day gets bad our movement will keep us warm enough as we march. Our tents and bags will be fine tonight. Keep the freezer suits packed up. Some do better than others in near zero conditions, so if anyone needs to go level 7, we can always pull them out but most of us will be sweating our asses off tomorrow. We need to let everyone know NOT to de-layer, no matter how much they sweat. Conserving core heat is critical.” Chunk chimed in. “The snowfall will be heavy tomorrow. We can’t spread out so everyone stays within eyesight, and we rotate the lead so no one is breaking new snow for more than an hour. Anyone in the rear will have the easiest time so the lead and the group right behind move to the rear each hour. I’d recommend a two man column.” Sleeper nodded. “Sounds smart. Zeus, any thoughts?” Gabriel squinted his eyes in thought. “We have to think ahead. Two feet of snow will be extremely difficult and that’s the minimum we’re looking at. Not seeing the ground and having to lift our feet is bad, but that’s not the real problem. Our legs and feet will be wet and frozen in under two hours. We need to be above the snow. Not only will we move faster, we’ll avoid injuries. We need snowshoes. Skis would be better, but we don’t have those.” Skis and poles would have been apparent if they’d been included in the gear. Gabriel sighed. “If the storm turns bad, we have to shelter in place until it blows out or wait for rescue.” “There won’t be a rescue. We’re on our own. At least until Thursday. If it’s bad enough for us to hunker down, they won’t be able to get to us. Keep that in mind.” Sleeper said. They all looked at each other. Gabriel knew they were all thinking the same thing: that disaster could strike in ten different ways between someone getting seriously injured, to getting lost, to the weather turning into a full scale blizzard. They were in woods, so snow-burdened falling branches were a real danger. As the snow got deeper it would become more and more difficult to see sudden drops, obstacles, shallow water. Dense snowfall coupled with gale force winds would make navigation almost impossible. “You four need to get us there. Use every trick you know.” Sleeper said. “Go brief your squads.” **************** Alaska showed Zeus, Chunk and Shark how to make rough snowshoes from thin pine branches, and then how to attach them to their boots. They would only last them the day… maybe… but were fast to make and the raw materials were readily available. Zeus finally got to the tent close to 2300 hours after getting the squad to make their snowshoes. He’d shown them what Alaska taught him by making Sleeper a set, so Sleeper could use the time to figure out a plan, set contingencies and do all the things a Platoon leader needed to do. “Boots inside, Addison. It’s warmer in here and you don’t want to dig them out of the snow tomorrow morning.” Zeus told his friend. Zeus picked up Sleeper’s boots, knocked the snow from them and put them next to his near the tent opening. Sleeper was snuggled in his bag, looking at the map by flashlight. “Thanks buddy.” Sleeper watched Zeus unzip his bag and start to crawl in. “The rest of the guys in their tents?” “Yes, Addison, except for the watch.” Sleeper replied. “Good. Good. Um, Zeus?” Sleeper said, not believing that his voice was shaking with nervousness like a schoolgirl with a crush on the football quarterback. “Yes Addison?” “Uh… do you want to zip our bags together? We would have more room. To conserve heat, I mean. These are kind of small, and you’re big, and…” Oh Jesus that sounded weak as shit, he thought. “It’s going to be really cold, and -“ “Okay.” Zeus said in a deep monotone voice with no inflection. Was that reluctance? His giant friend yanked back his bag, nearly breaking the zipper. What the fuck was he angry about? Well shit, he didn’t seem too excited about sharing. Maybe since Zeus got what he wanted five weeks ago he wasn’t interested anymore. Zeus hadn’t been anything except slightly friendly the whole time since then. That kind of hurt Sleeper’s feelings. He wasn’t even asking for sex and just wanted some companionship. Maybe a piece of him wanted the sex too, but they had so many layers on that would prove difficult. “Forget it. Just thought we should keep warm.” Sleeper said. And even to himself it came off sounding short and irritated. “Get some rest.” Zeus was just looking at him, half out of his sleeping bag. Sleeper couldn’t read anything on his face. Nothing, it was completely blank just like it always was. Andrew would know how to read Zeus but Andrew wasn’t here and then Zeus looked away before climbing back into his sleeping bag, re-zipping it and turning away to sleep facing the side of the tent. Yeah, the big guy definitely wasn’t interested anymore. Well damn. Sleeper really liked the big puppy and he was looking forward to finding out if Zeus fucking his ass was really as incredible as it was that first time. There had been something awesome about the feeling of Zeus’s big body on him, his intensity during sex, the power and strength of him and the thrill of not being in control to being the object of Zeus’s lust. None of that happened with Assmunch but it looked like he wasn’t going to get the chance to find out. And that hurt a little too. **************** What was wrong with Addison? Gabriel asked himself. Was he mad at him? Gabriel tried to think of what he’d done wrong and couldn’t think of a single thing. Addison must have seen how happy he was to sleep next to him, nearly jumping out of his sleeping bag to start zipping it to Addison’s … too happy. It was his face, Gabriel knew. It just gave everything away. He would have to do better at keeping his emotions under control. Addison wasn’t gay, he’d said so and that night with him and Andrew was probably just the other two experimenting or being nice to him. Andrew said they had to cool it for a while because of Puta, but maybe he just said that to get Gabriel to calm down. And now, Addison was only trying to look out for him in the storm and Gabriel had taken it as a sign, FINALLY, that Addison was ready for more. They weren’t in the barracks, no one could see in the tent and Gabriel was excited to wrap his body around Addison’s and kiss him. Just the thought of falling asleep holding Addison’s little muscle body gave him an erection. But when Gabriel let his excitement show, Addison suddenly backed off hard and told him to forget it. Maybe Addison had seen his erection and that was why. No, he was bundled up too much for anything to show. It had to have been his eagerness that made Addison change his mind. That made Gabriel sad. Why wasn’t Andrew here? He’d know what to do. **************** Time: 0100 hr. “Lieutenant, we have a problem.” Corporal Evans poked his head into Lieutenant Campbell’s office. There was always a duty officer assigned when a training operation was in progress. Campbell had night watch. “What is it, Corporal?” the lieutenant asked. He was looking at his Platoon’s qualification scores, combining them onto the master report he’d have to send up the chain to Command. He and the other lieutenants had been comparing their groups and it was apparent that Bravo Platoon was exceptional. Even so, there wasn’t a large performance gap between the Bravos and the others. The Army had chosen well. “Radar is showing a depression moving up the Bay of Biscay and crossing into France. The jet stream is going to carry it right to us and it’s moving fast. It’s going to hit our arctic front before sunrise tomorrow. It’s not going to be good.” Evans explained. “We’ve got men out there. The models are all over the place, but this could get as bad as the one in 1987.” Campbell stood up. “Better call everyone in, Corporal. And let’s get Motor Transport on standby. If we need to go get our boys, I don’t want a delay.” The training team was assembled in 45 minutes. “So we’re sure this is going to get that bad?” Sergeant Horvath asked. They could all see the path and intensity of what was headed their way. When it hit the dip in the jet stream hovering over Bavaria where they were, it was going to get violent. And it was going to pull in warmer air toward the west from southeast Europe. Jet stream moving fast, easterly with a depression riding along with it pulling warmer air westerly… the whole region was going to become a maelstrom of ice, snow and wind. “We can’t assume otherwise, Sergeant.” Corporal Evans said. “There are too many similarities to ‘87.” “Do we have a big enough window to track them down in the forest AND get them back here before we get hit?” Lieutenant Campbell asked. Sergeant Walters spoke up. “We have enough time to get to them, but we’ll never make it back.” “Do we have radio contact? Can we order them back to their drop off locations?” Captain Patterson asked. “Maybe get them to a town to wait it out?” “Orders were radio silence until all four Platoons joined up.” Campbell pointed out. “We’re listening, but as far as they know this is part of the operation and they won’t break radio silence until they realize they can’t handle this. By that time it’s going to be too late to help them.” Captain Patterson leaned into Major Ondrian’s shoulder. They had a quick whispered conversation. “Pack out.” Captain Patterson ordered. “You’re to locate your Platoons on foot and sit tight until we can extract you after this blows through. I want status reports every hour until further notice.” ************ Time: 0200 hr. Sleeper jerked awake to the sound of his name. “Sleeper! Wake up!” “Awake, soldier. Report.” Sleeper responded, finding the zipper on his bag and climbing out. “Chunk’s nervous, Sleeper. He said to get you up right away.” After pulling on his boots Sleeper exited the tent, throwing up the hood of his coat. The freezing wind hit his face and hands, and he quickly pulled his balaclava up over his nose and threw on his gloves. Zeus stirred behind him. In the snow and dark, Sleeper took a moment to re-orient himself. He could barely make out another figure about 10 feet away. That had to be Chunk. The snow was already a foot deep and it was falling faster and heavier than just a few hours ago. “Chunk, what’s going on?” Sleeper asked after trudging over to Chunk who was staring up at the darkness, turning his head slowly around. The atmosphere was bizarre the way it dampened sound like he was speaking into a pillow. “We better get Alaska up, and Zeus. I think everyone needs to get up.” Chunk replied, still watching the air. “Why?” “Snow’s changed, Sleeper. It’s bad. It’s hard to explain. Wind direction is all over the place and the snow coming down now is wetter. Air smells different, tangy and sharp. Pressure’s dropped, just fucking bottomed out about a half hour ago. I don’t need to see the clouds. We’re gonna get hit bad. My grandfather would say even the wolves would leave the hunt to find a hole. We need to figure out better shelter than two man tents. And we’re not going anywhere for a few days.” “How much time do we have?” Sleeper asked. “Maybe 5 hours.” Chunk answered. “But every hour it’ll get worse up until then.” “Get everyone up. We need a plan.” Sleeper ordered. There was some grumbling, but it was hushed. In ten minutes they were all huddled in a group. Sleeper explained what Chunk had told him. “I need ideas. Our tents can’t handle the heavier snow, especially if the wind is going to drive it up to pile against them.” “Windbreaks? We’re in the woods, we could have something together in a few hours.” Dimples suggested. Chunk and Alaska shook their heads. Alaska spoke up, “nothing temporary is going to hold up against the wind. And I agree with Chunk, when it hits the wind is going to come from everywhere, strong. We need a hole. A deep hole.” “What about snowpack over a windbreak? We could dig in next to that rock formation we passed a half mile back.” Zeus offered. Sleeper looked at Chunk and Alaska. Alaska shrugged. “It needs to be big enough for all of us for several days. The snowpack will keep the wind from tearing the shelter apart, but it needs to be thick and packed hard.” “We’ve got 5 hours, tops.” Sleeper called out. “Break camp and pack up. Zeus, you and Alaska break a trail to that rock formation, something we can follow. Footlong, we need light. Wanker, I want that radio. Sorry guys, I’m breaking radio silence, we’re going to blow this op. If it’s going to get as bad as Chunk says, we can’t do this. I don’t think they planned on this. I need updated orders, and to give them our location. Move!”

I remember when I was younger, in my 20s I was happy to go home with older men if they were attractive to me. But I also had attention from rude older guys that I didn’t find attractive and unfortunately I had to learn the hard way (not quite sure if it’s called rape when you just give up resistance and let them have what they want so you can run after) that opening the door just a crack by being nice after making it clear you aren’t interested… well that CAN get you into a really bad situation. Not that it always will, but I know I never wanted to take the chance again. So after one polite denial I stopped being polite and nice. And I learned ‘NO’ is said in a LOT of different ways. Allowing someone to say no, or that they aren’t interested is as much a part of the game as the hunt. You’re better off not hooking up with a junior who is an asshole… my experience is they make awful sex. Attractive guys have always had a chip on their shoulder. Today’s youth are no different. And the young today are brash, blunt, direct and see no reason to hide behind archaic social graces. Back when I was young, a good reputation was important. Today, it’s notoriety and a bad reputation is just as good as a nice one. I think that’s really amazing, they are actually making their world into what they want. It doesn’t make us older guys feel any better, but it’s not for us anyway.

Thanks, daddybear

That’s what my buddies told me. It was hell, and you’re so exhausted you don’t know what you feel anymore. You know you hurt everywhere, but there’s always some torture by the Sergeants creating new pain.

Tom and Kevin I awoke before Kev feeling the best I’d felt in over a year. I had forgotten how right it was to wake up with him in my arms and how he fit perfectly against me pressed against my body with every curve. He smelled so good. When I remembered what happened in the middle of the night a tingling thrill cascaded through my flesh quickly accompanied by a fluttering in my abdomen. Something had changed inside me. Something had changed in my love for him. It was only by feeling this today that I could tell that all the incredible sex we’d had before I left for the Army had been purely physical for me. My immense love had been purely emotional. But they had never met, separated by a chasm that deepened every time I told myself I wasn’t gay and I was unable to see that before now. Last night the two had melded into something more soul-affirming than my mind could understand. It had nothing to do with fucking Kevin for the first time… fucking felt like such a small, inadequate word for what we did. It was a conduit that allowed our love to flow together, to blend until it was one emotion rather than two separate people feeling a separate, different kind of love for each other. I was still unsure if I was gay, or it was just Kevin. I could be bi, but that didn’t seem to fit either. Having had sex with only two guys wasn’t a large enough sample to reach any easy conclusion. How do you define something that happens because of circumstances and not because you have an overwhelming desire? Before last night, the only reason I wanted to get fucked by Kevin was to make him happy and to feel how into it he was. His heightened excitement was what turned me on. It was the same with Sleeper. The exhilaration of being the person responsible for bringing them to orgasm and for providing them pleasure flipped my dick switch. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t numbed like a prostitute to the sex. It turned ME on to turn THEM on. And the distinction was further complicated by the fact that I could pop a boner just looking at any number of sexy women. I couldn’t say that about men. I could recognize a guy was hot. Sarge was hot. Zeus was hot. Sleeper was hot. Kevin was very hot. But that didn’t turn me on. But last night… I was 110% gay for Kevin. And again, it wasn’t because I’d topped him for the first time. That was just the smallest part of what I’d felt. As I tried to grasp the change inside me my hands explored his body. The inner timekeeper I’d developed in the Army told me it would be an hour or so before sunrise, so it had to be about 0600. For the first time since I joined the Army I slept past 0500. I felt lazy and indulgent. I felt completely relaxed. It occurred to me that Kevin’s body had changed. His muscles, always thick and solid, were harder and more condensed and differentiated. Rather than a single wide meaty back he now had defined areas of proper muscle groupings. Was he working out? I liked it. I liked the strength they exuded. I pulled away so I could run my free hand over his wide back. It was smooth and hairless, unlike his chest. I explored by touch in the dark, noticing how similar the muscles felt to Sleeper’s with their active potential. “If you keep that up you’re going to—“. He paused. “Don’t stop. It feels good.” He avoided a clever quip in favor of honest vulnerability with a deep voiced sleepy mumble. His body was not the only thing that changed. He was comfortable speaking his mind now and making demands. It was a request I could fulfill. I took my time. Now that he was awake, I nudged him over onto his stomach so my hand could wander the entire expanse of his backside. His warm skin was taut riding over the mounds and ridges along his spine. I let my palm travel the valley that it made between his shoulders down his ribs, then further to the meat of his ass which rose like a small hill under the sheets. “Have you been working out?” I asked softly as my fingers traced the perimeter of each glute before lingering in his crack. “Mmmm-hmmm. I joined the track team.” He said. “Do you like it?” I leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “I do. I like it a lot.” I felt my way around him with a firmer hand, squeezing everything I could find. I took my time. It was the first time I had really felt him as another man with the intimate intent to know him beyond sexual need. How had I failed to recognize this perfection all the times before? How had I failed to see the beauty of the strength and power in his body? Before it had been just a comfortable part of him, another piece of the overall presence that was Kevin. But now… the heat of his skin, the way his shoulder blades flared from his back mounded with his rhomboids, trapezius and rear delts, the spread of his large rib cage jacketed by his thick lats, the shoulders that exceeded the reach of my spread fingers, the erectors of his lower back that created a furrow like a freshly plowed field. His butt felt slightly bigger than I remembered, jutting out more in a proud hill. He was smooth there, his cheeks completely hairless and so different from the front of him. He was magnificent. I scooted over to lay my face on his back. His skin smelled like first spring rain. I tasted him with a flick of my wide tongue. Salty, and a hint of musk. I took a longer swipe, savoring the dance of his flavors in my mouth. My eyes were closed and my mouth sought out more of him. I rubbed my face upon him, nuzzling, amazed that I could explore him even more like that and receiving even greater detail than my hands and fingers had discovered. My nose crushed into the hard strips of muscle as my mouth chewed while my tongue bathed him. I missed nothing, licked, nosed, chinned and gently chewed every square inch. I flattened my tongue against his tailbone to drive it up his spine all the way to his neck. Rewetting it, I executed a sweeping turn across his shoulder. I was straddling him now with my knees beside his. I sucked along the hardness of his shoulder blade, first one, then the other before returning to his other shoulder. “You taste amazing.” I whispered in his ear. I had momentary regret that I’d never taken the time to notice him like this before. So much time I wasted lost in allowing him to get everything he wanted from me and only that. And right after the thought a sick fear that I’d deprived him of this part of being with him, the physical adoration of his body, of HIM that traveled beyond the physical into an almost hypnotic need. And I should have known better. Because I fully recognized how powerful and erotic it was to be the source of someone else’s pleasure. And Kevin being the guy he was never pushed me as if he knew I wasn’t ready. But now… I wanted to do things to him just to do them, understanding it would give him pleasure to be on the receiving end of my need without focusing on anything except enjoying myself. I licked his entire back from ass to neck, chewing, sucking, slathering every square inch of skin. I found his tender spots. I reveled in his moaning spots. And then, tackling his big meaty ass I explored that too. I let my hands rub the spit dampened skin of his back while I rubbed my face on his amazing butt. I didn’t tease him like I did Sleeper. Because this wasn’t sex. I had no agenda in this. This was Reverence. Adoration. Worship. And that’s when I understood I couldn’t live without him. My entire nervous system, every nerve from toe to scalp fired off a cascade of explosions and I began to tremble with the realization that by giving him my soul that day in the hallway outside English class I had already decided to be his and it could be nothing less than all of me or I would suffer. I understood the pain I had been in over the last year and some months. I knew I had caused it myself and had been blaming Kevin, the Army, my circumstances…anything but the true culprit: me. How foolish I was, what a complete and utter idiot to think I could arrange it all to satisfy such a misguided plan to relegate Kevin to the past. I was never going to ‘move on with my life’ because Kevin WAS my life. There was nothing more important than him. I felt a shroud lifted from my soul. “Tom, are you okay? You haven’t moved for a while. What are you thinking about?” Another change in Kevin. He was saying more than five words. “You. Me. Us.” I said from the comfortable pillow his ass made for my face. I lay there resting, and thinking. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an idiot, Kev.” “I like the Us part.” He said. “It never stopped being Us for me, you know.” I stroked his thigh, kissed his ass cheeks. “I know that now. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize that it’s always been Us for me too.” “Come up here.” He requested, wiggling his ass to shake me off. “But you’re so comfortable. You make a great pillow.” I playfully nipped his skin. “Talk. Now.” He chastised. “Yes. Tarzan talk to boy!” I mocked him and his short guttural sentences. I moved up and immediately missed his butt. He rolled onto his side to face me and we lay face to face with his big leg thrown over mine. I continued running my fingers over his chest and stomach. “Tom…” I sensed the uncertainty in his voice. He was holding back again. I leaned in to kiss him tenderly. He would speak when he felt it was right, but I didn’t like how he seemed to revert to his high school pattern. I’d seen how he’d grown yesterday, no more darting eyes, no hesitancy in his words. He’d become a man. He challenged me in the kitchen… me! The guy he used to follow, from whom he’d accept just about any suggestion. I didn’t want him to be that guy again, not because I didn’t love that guy but because I loved that strength and self assurance I saw in him yesterday. I used the wait to enjoy the feel of his beautiful body. It sounds absurd but it was all new to me this eagerness for him. I found I couldn’t stop touching him and didn’t want to. It excited me. I really wanted to use my mouth on him, but Tarzan wanted talk. And I knew this was important. Finally, “Tom, is this real for you? Is this just you taking a break from exiling me and you’re going to disappear again? Because I don’t know if I can go through that again. Please don’t shut me out. Even if we can’t be together, don’t hurt me again.” He paused. “Please?” And the word was so pitiful it broke my heart. “Never again, Kev.” I began. “I thought I was doing the right thing, even though it hurt both of us. I wanted you to find a boyfriend, someone who could be gay with you. I didn’t think that was me or that I could give you what you needed. I thought we could get past it.” He reached out to stroke my face. “And now?” I took a few breaths. Thinking it was one thing, saying it out loud was another. “Now…I realize I never had a choice. Our Kiss opened something inside of me and you’re the only person who can reach me there. I’ve been fighting to keep you away and it gets harder to do every day because without you I feel empty. I don’t understand it. It doesn’t make any sense.” “You think it’s different for me? It’s not.” He stated. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you. I knew I would just get hurt. I tried to keep you away too, you know. But I didn’t have a choice either. There were so many things I wanted for you. You had to enlist in the Army and having a boyfriend doesn’t exactly fit with that. I didn’t want to be the reason you couldn’t have your dream. And I know you love women -“ “Not like I love you.” I interrupted. “Neither of us realized that. And I’m still not sure I’ll be enough for you and that you’ll regret giving that up.” I kissed his soft beautiful lips. “If you’re not enough no woman will be.” “So what changed?” I moved closer so that our bodies intertwined. I thought about it. “I’m tired of fighting it, Kev. So tired of fighting. I’m tired of locking you away and not feeling anything. I’m tired of not feeling… you. Me. Us.” “I am too.” He placed his forehead against mine. I wished the sun would come up so I could see his soft grey flannel eyes. “It feels like by giving you up I have to give up ‘me’. It only feels right to be gone when it’s you that gets me there.” He kissed me then. The first time in over a year and this time he pulled me in with just a kiss, he didn’t need to use his eyes. His kiss. His lips. I felt myself soar to a whole other place I’d never been. Instead of losing myself I found him waiting for me there in a peaceful heaven of just us surrounded by his comfortable weightless love that was seamlessly blended with my own swirling eddies. I was the flame and he was the heat. I was a waterfall and he was the lake, a gusting wind that contained the promise of a gentle shower and hope of life. We were elemental here each a part of the whole, without the other’s compliment destined to be diminished. The mirror of our love required a reflection, insisted that there be a corresponding image so that what would otherwise be a hardened glass barrier instead became a doorway to completeness. In this place he gave me my true soul, the one forged of both of us which was solid, unshakable and harmonic. Our soul. There would only be one between us from now on. He rolled me onto my back without breaking the kiss. My entire body flushed with heat responding to his full weight while my arms and legs wrapped him tightly in an embrace. I no longer cared to examine the rightness or where it came from. The size of him excited me. His erect cock pressed beside my own and I couldn’t lay still as I writhed and rubbed as much of him as I could reach. I needed him with a desire and eagerness that manifested as sweet anticipatory pleasure. Just the feel of him had me dancing on the precipice of orgasm and I held myself there at the edge loving the way every movement elicited a deep stimulation of every nerve in my body. When he licked his fingers and lifted his hips I moaned knowing what he would do. I felt his wet fingers probe my hole and I spread myself for him, ready and relaxed as he stretched me gently. The intensity of this feeling threatened to overwhelm me. This was how it should be. This act subsumed all previous sex, showing me how limited it was in its take and give because it was imperfect and unwhole. I had been so sure there was nothing more to sex and that sheer physical pleasure born of pain was the pinnacle. What a foolish boy I was. He coated me with his precum as he rubbed the head of his impressive dick against my opening. He continued to kiss me as I moaned into him. His fist stopped all but the thick head from pressing into me and it was ecstasy. My hips undulated slowly to meet him in the grinding against my hole that had come alive with such unexpected sensitivity I fought the urge of my balls to ejaculate. He hadn’t even penetrated me yet but I could go at any time. I had never been here before. I was alive, needing the pleasure without the pain and it was so wonderful I wanted to cry. The gestalt of the joining of our bodies, our souls, our hearts and our minds flooded me with a nirvana that surged like a supernova that forced all doubts and darkness away. I was purged of every subconscious self recrimination I’d tortured myself with for the past year. His continuing unquestionable love was a catalyst that created a chain reaction that could not be ended, only delayed and I found myself ecstatically thankful he’d waited in his comfortable weightless way for me to grow enough to realize we belonged with each other. I was good enough for him because he MADE me good enough. He slowly entered me and for the first time there was no pain, no adjustment. His gradual sinking made my eyes roll back with the desire for him to fully enter me to the root but also hoping it could go on forever. Oh fuck, this can’t be real. It should be like this every time. Just the smallest movement from him sent waves of pleasure pulsing through every fiber of my being. He poured into me so slow and easy it felt like a long sigh of relief. Our bodies remained pressed together and I used my heels against his ass to pull him further in. He only flexed his hips. So gentle were his movements it felt like everything and not enough at the same time. His cock inside me was just a part of how we joined. I trembled from the feel of his hot skin against mine. I moaned from his sweet loving kiss upon my mouth. I writhed from the comfortable weight of his hard meaty body resting on me. My cock long-spurted my semen between our stomachs and it happened without convulsions in absolute relaxation and relief. His gentle rocking kept on and I realized I still remained on that edge of stimulation. I could cum again any time I allowed it but this was so much better than any orgasm. The potential was several times greater than the conclusion. I wanted this to last for hours. “Oh Tom, I’m going to cum again.” He moaned into my mouth, and just the sound of his voice sent my own cum flowing for the second time, or was it simply a continuation of the first? Lost in this timeless moment with him was the most amazing place to exist. We were everything together. When he stopped moving I didn’t want him to, and I kept moving my hips against him. “Shhhhh.” He whispered. “Settle.” He stroked my face and head soothing me to stillness. I experienced a feeling of joy that I hadn’t left that edge. I was still in the moment of pleasure and I knew I could hold myself here anytime I wanted now, or maybe it was him who could bring me here just by being close to me. “I love you.” I moaned. The sun had risen without my noticing the light that filled my room. It allowed me to look into his soft flannel eyes at last. I kissed his nose. “Stay here just like this.” He grinned, and it was so close to his smirk I experienced another wave of warm pleasure because I’d missed it for so long. I hugged him tight. “Uh… Tom? Mom says to come down for breakfast.” I heard my brother’s voice come from across the room. There was no way he could misinterpret what Kevin and I were doing. The sheets and blankets were at the bottom of the bed, and Kevin lay naked on top of me with my arms and legs wrapped around him. Kevin jerked to roll off of me and somehow that was worse because it left my cum covered torso and still hard dick exposed. I dreaded the explanation. Tim stood there staring at both of us, taking in our nakedness and the evidence of our pleasure. I was trying to think of what to say, how to put it the right way, but was failing miserably to find anything to soothe what must be a horrible shock for him. “Hi Kevin.” He said. “Does this mean you’re boyfriends again?” I started. “What do you mean ‘again’ bro?” Tim shrugged. “Well you were boyfriends in high school, everyone says so. But I know you broke up when you had to go away for the Army. You were so sad, Tom. Are you back together?” I looked at Kevin, who was smirking. Yeah right bud, pretend like you saw this coming. You didn’t expect this any more than I did. I rolled my eyes at him which only deepened his smirk. “You didn’t think people were going to talk to him about it?” He said. I loved this new confidence in him. God, it turned me on. My eyebrows shot up. “No. I mean… not that I thought it was a secret, I just don’t think about people gossiping, it’s not worth my energy.” I replied. I returned my eyes to Tim, whose eyes were roaming from Kevin’s naked body to mine. “Yeah bro, we’re boyfriends again.” I smiled. “Good.” He said. “I’ll tell mom. She’ll be glad.” “Wait! What?” I floundered. “Don’t be dumb, bro.” Tim chastised. God he could be so sweet, and then such an ass. “No one who sees you together can miss it you idiot. And you’re not quiet when he rails you. Geez, mom and dad probably heard you two from their room half the time on your sleepovers. I’ve even jacked off a few times listening through this wall to you guys go at it, it’s kind of incredible to hear. Like hearing two animals fighting with everything they have.” FUCK. ME. RUNNING. Kevin’s knowing smirk was gone and he tensed up. I thought we’d been quiet. Mom and dad never once let on. Tim hadn’t said anything or dropped any sly hints. Holy fuck. My dad. My dad knew and never said anything. And now I’d never have a chance to talk to him about it. I knew the love for me he must have had to keep quiet about it and let it happen, to welcome Kevin like another son as if it was just the most natural thing. I felt my tears start. Kevin kissed me. “It’s okay, babe.” He cupped my face. And it was. He called me ‘babe’. I was sad, and happy, and aroused at the same time. Only Kevin could do this to me. Tim had come over to the bed. My bed wasn’t big, just a twin, but he lay down next to me and I was sandwiched between them. Tim pulled my arm around his shoulders and laid his head on my chest. Kevin kept kissing and nuzzling my face. “I miss dad, Tom.” Tim said. “He was a really good dad.” They let me cry like that for a few minutes and I felt the tears let up. When I finally found my voice I said “Yeah Tim. I don’t know what we are going to do without him, but we’ll be alright. We just have to be the men he wanted us to be.” I kissed my little brother’s head and hugged him. Tim raised his head up and smiled. “You’re the best big brother I could ever have. And you smell like cum.” That little fucker. So sweet and such an ass. “ I put my hands behind my head. “That’s all mine. Kevin’s went somewhere else.” I said with satisfaction. “Yeah, I know where it went. I’ve heard you beg him to fuck it up your ass enough times. Doesn’t it hurt? I mean, look at his dick… it’s huge.” I laughed. “Oh fuck yeah it hurts. Or at least it used to. I liked that pain and wanted it to hurt as much as he could dish out. But not now. Now we have something better. Not that I would stop him from taking me like an animal again, there’s something incredible about it. But the gentle loving is … wow! So much better.” Tim put his head back on my chest. “Maybe I should get a boyfriend and find out.” He reached out before I could stop him and grabbed Kevin’s semi-hard cock. “Just not with a dick this big. Jesus.” “Stop that.” I admonished him. “You’ll get him going again and I want breakfast, but I won’t be able to tell him no so I’ll go hungry.” I swatted his hand away from my boyfriend’s cock, which had already swelled up. Tim giggled. “Get out of my room before I fuck the both of you.” I ordered him. “Tell mom we’ll be down after we wash up. Degenerate groping my boyfriend.” My little brother grabbed me me balls and yanked. I grunted. “Fucking asshole!” I growled. “We both know who’ll be getting fucked, bro.” He pushed off me hard enough to roll me over onto Kevin as he climbed out of bed. I felt a shockingly hard stinging smack against my ass. I yelped. He leaned in to kiss my head. And then he kissed Kevin’s. “Take care of my brother.” And then he was gone. I could hear him going downstairs almost whistling. He could never get the hang of it so it sounded like more air than musical notes. “God, has everyone changed? When did he grow up?” I asked Kevin. He chuckled. “You’ve been gone a long time babe. And not just gone to the Army. You’ve been gone in your head, too. And that was interesting.” I knew the last part referred to Tim. Tim and I were always close. Mom and dad always insisted I be a true big brother to him, and he made it easy. I loved him, he was my little bro. We’d talked about sex all the time before I left for the Army. He asked questions, I answered. We’d seen each other naked all the time, we shared a bathroom. And up until he was 11 he would sometimes crawl into bed with me to sleep and I’d hold him tight. But climbing into bed with us after we’d just had sex and were naked surprised me. Tim wasn’t fazed at all. And his forceful demeanor with me sent a disturbing quiver to my dick. What the fuck? “It was more than interesting. I can’t think through this right now.” I gave Kevin a long, deep kiss. “Let’s get showered. I’m hungry. And if I’m hungry I know you are.” We quickly showered, managing to keep our dicks to ourselves even if our hands couldn’t stop feeling each other. He used my toothbrush right after me, just squirting more toothpaste on it before shoving it in his mouth. That was fucking hot, I can’t lie. Kevin raided my underwear and closet for clothes that would fit him. My heart raced with the thought of him wearing my clothes. He chose a pair of blue boxer briefs that I told him were loose on me so I knew they’d fit him. I was unprepared for how sexy he looked in them. They stretched to a perfect tightness around all his large anatomy. I could swear he was a bit bigger in the legs and beautifully round butt which were both solid and hard. He filled out the hanging pouch with a big and meaty mound that made me salivate. Sleeper’s perfection was nothing compared to the genetic masterpiece of my boyfriend. Holy shit, and I was his. I felt so lucky. Fuck, I was so gay and happy. Kevin left his wet hair loose and even that lent a dangerous power to his strength. He caught me staring from the corner of his eyes as he pulled up the shorts I’d given him and even though his long hair covered the side of his face I could imagine the grin. “Enjoying the show, babe?” My cock had risen, poking out of the boxers I wore. “I can’t keep my eyes off you. Holy fuck. How are you so beautiful?” He smiled that rare full teeth baring smile with smooth perfect white surfaces. “How? Because you, that’s how.” That wasn’t true. Kevin was a force of nature. I had absolutely nothing to do with it. “Put it back in your shorts, hot stuff.” He told me. “I can smell breakfast, and your little brother will eat it all if we don’t get down there.” Fuck I loved decisive confident Kevin. I could rely on that guy. I could lean on his strength. It felt so good after having to be the strong one all the time. It was oxymoronic and counter intuitive but I felt stronger and even MORE able to handle anything because HE was strong. It wasn’t a give and take, it felt additive and synergistic…greater than the sum of our parts. What a fucking idiot I’d been to deny this. I felt like I imagined Zeus felt just being himself. It was heady and seductive. I could take on the world with this power I felt. We went downstairs side by side, him taking up 2/3rds with his size leaving me to squeeze into the remaining third, reaching the bottom and seeing mom putting food on the plates. “Hello Kevin. Could you take the plates to the table? Tom, there’s juice in the fridge. Tim, silverware.” Not a single blink or hesitation. Kevin reached for the plates and gave my mom a kiss on the cheek. “Morning Mrs, Harris. Thanks for breakfast!” She kissed him back on his cheek. “Thanks for not making Tom scream all night. I slept so good.” I choked for a good minute, having to hold onto the refrigerator door so I didn’t fall to my knees. I finally pulled myself together when Kevin said with a smirk “He almost made me scream this time, but I have a little more self control and respect for the rest of you.” And I choked and coughed all over again. *************** We had today, and that was all. I avoided thinking about having to get on the hop back to Germany tomorrow afternoon. I’d have to report to Ft. Hood in the morning even though the flight wasn’t leaving until almost 9 hours later. Hurry up and wait, another Army maxim. But today I was all Kevin’s. He had to fly back to Boston himself tomorrow, to return to his classes at MIT. We lay on the couch, me leaning back against him. The only thing different than what we’d done in high school was that he held me this time. I liked it. I loved wrapping him in my arms and spooning, but this felt easy and he was so comfortable against my back. Winter in central Texas wasn’t harsh, but we’d had a cold front come through two days ago and the temperature was in the upper 30’s, cold for Texas. He felt warm. I could go to sleep just like this. Mom came in from the garage. She and Tim had gone to the Commissary on Base for food. “Boys, come bring the groceries in.” She called to us. Kevin and I hopped off the couch and raced each other to the car outside. Of course I lost the race. But I tell myself it was because he shoved me into the doorframe at the last minute. “Cheater!” I yelled at him. “All’s fair in love and war, babe. You should watch your six. What are they teaching you in that Army? Do you guys just play cards and have circle jerks?” He grinned. “I’ve got you to watch my six now babe.” I threw back at him. “And you’re a traitor.” He grabbed me up in his arms and groped my ass right there in the driveway. “I’ve always got your back, Tom. Always. I love you.” He kissed me and I melted. “Mooooooommmmm, they’re not helping!” Tim yelled into the garage. “You little tattletale!” I glared. Then gave Kevin a glance and he understood. We tackled Tim from both sides, pulling him to the ground and smothered him with kisses and our bodies, making him laugh and protest…but not very convincingly. He tried to wrestle us, the adorable fool. Somehow Tim ended up on Kevin’s back and he and I carried the bags of groceries into the house with my little brother (who wasn’t so little anymore) giving us orders from Kevin’s back. It was like he didn’t even feel Tim’s weight. Tim had his chin hooked over Kevin’s broad shoulders, his face snuggled up against my boyfriend’s neck. My brother almost didn’t need to wrap his legs around Kevin’s waist, he could just sit on the shelf his ass made. Just seeing them like that made me incredibly happy. We soon had all the groceries put away, the brown paper bags folded and stored. “Why so much food, mom? I’m leaving in the morning.” I pointed out. There was no way she and Tim would eat all that by themselves. The meat would keep in the freezer, sure, but four dozen eggs, six pounds of bacon, three loaves of bread, three gallons of milk, two packs of toilet paper, and so many vegetables the fridge was crammed, plus more…potatoes, cheese, onions, canned stuff and soup, pasta, coffee….ICE CREAM! “Oh! Turn on the news, sweetheart. And I think you need to call your First Sergeant. I don’t think either one of you will be able to get on a plane tomorrow. The radio said the northeast is snowed in with a blizzard, or noreaster or some kind of storm, and there’s another system moving across Europe. Kevin, you might want to check if MIT has canceled classes.” I looked at Kevin and saw my hope mirrored in his eyes. Tim had a huge grin side by side with Kevin’s, still hanging on his back. “You have to stay! Fuck yeah!” “Timothy Jacob Harris you watch your mouth!” Mom scolded. “Sorry mom.” He said in with feigned guilt, then mouthed ‘fuck yeah’ again. I laughed. “You’ll still have school, runt.” “Mom, can I stay home? I’ll get my work from Allie. Please? Pleeeeeeease?” “I’ll think about it.” She answered. Kevin smiled huge. “I need to borrow Tim for training. I’ll just carry him around all day to make my legs strong.” Tim smiled. “You can be my horse. No one will bug me riding you!” I crossed my arms. “First, when did you get to be such a jock, babe? Second, who’s bugging you bro?” “Just some kids at school. It’s no big deal.” He avoided. “Tim, what are they doing?” I demanded, shocking myself with how much I sounded like dad. He looked away. Kevin gave him a side look. He threw his arms over and grabbed Tim by his armpits and pulled my lanky brother effortlessly over his shoulder until he was cradled in his arms. Fuck! The strength of him. He held Tim like a baby. “Spill it little bro.” Kevin said. He used his eyes on Tim, and I knew Tim would lose the battle. Tim leaned into my boyfriend’s big meaty chest. “A couple of the guys on the football team call me ‘that fag’s brother’ and say I must be a faggot too. Sorry, that’s the word they use.” I could tell it hurt him to repeat it. “Do they hit you or bully you?” I asked. “They just shove me a little. It’s not that big of a deal Tom.” He said, resigned. Kevin looked at me, his eyes were full of storms. I raised my eyebrows at him. “I’m sorry, Tim. It’s my fault.” Kevin said. “I’m sorry too, bud.” I repeated. I formed a plan in my head. But I needed to talk to Top first, and Kevin needed to find out about MIT. “Mom, can I use the phone?” I called to her. “Of course. It’s weekends, so don’t worry. But why don’t you call your father’s Commander? He can find out for you. And no overseas long distance.” She had a point, but I couldn’t impose or cross my chain of Command. I wanted to explain how my First Sergeant was and should be my first call, and was debating it when the kitchen phone rang. We only had the one phone in the house. Tim leapt from Kevin’s arms where Kevin was using him to do arm curls, much to Tim’s amusement. “I got it!” He yelled out. I flexed my biceps at Kevin showing him my guns I’d worked hard to make bulk up. I’d put on 20 pounds of lean muscle over the last year, working out and going through the very physical training of the Army. I knew I looked hard, and good. Kevin shamed me when he mirrored my pose. He had incredible definition, and was so jacked. His biceps had to be twice the size of my own. I was just about to go molest him when Tim said “Private Brickmann, it’s Staff Sergeant Nolan”. Just like dad trained us. I did the time conversion in my head, it had to be 2000 there. Late hours. I took the phone from Tim. “Private Brickmann.” I identified. “Private Brickmann, I hope this is a good time.” Of course he knew the funeral was yesterday. “Of course, Sergeant.” Still a Private, it was proper for me to wait for him to speak unless released. “At ease, Private. Your hop’s been canceled. We’re getting quite the storm here. The Commander doesn’t see any reason for you to come back here, graduation is happening Tuesday, five feet of snow or not. And no one’s getting to their new duty station for a week. Your leave has been extended, and you’re to report to Ft. Hood for your orders next Friday.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Six more days. “Thanks, Sergeant. Uh… my gear?” I’d left most of my stuff there, almost all of my uniforms. All of my issued equipment. “Being packed up by your squad, Ummm, Private Montelongo and Private Gunnerson volunteered I’m told. Not like you get a choice, but is that acceptable? It’ll meet you at your next duty station.” “Yes Sergeant, they’re my friends. They won’t mess with my stuff. Thanks again.” “Good luck Private. Friday, Ft. Hood.” He reminded me. The phone clicked and went dead. I hung up. I turned around to leave the kitchen. “Tom! What’d he say?” Tim was bursting at the seams. I smiled. “Six more days! I don’t report until Friday!” I nearly fell over when my brother jumped on me in celebration quickly followed by Kevin. “Agggh, you’re gonna crush me! I have to tell mom!” Kevin let go, but Tim didn’t. “I heard, sweetheart. I’m so happy.” She was standing there with tears running down her face. Her house was full, filled with her boys again. She was hoping I’d be stuck just like Kevin and Tim hoped. I know the emptiness would hit her when I was gone again, but for six days I could take care of her. I walked over to her with my monkey brother hanging off me and pulled her into a hug. “I’m glad, mom.” I didn’t even care that I would miss saying goodbye in person to the Bravos. This was more important. Hell, they might even get liberty tonight and a pass to hit the town. I imagine a few Sergeants would be lurking in the usual night spots to watch for troublemakers. I’d have to call my brothers tomorrow. They’d probably appreciate the break from scrubbing down the barracks for inspection. “Hey Kev, call your school.” I told him. Kevin called the Engineering Lab, which was the name of a complex of several buildings, he explained. But he knew one person who would be there on a Saturday afternoon. I wrestled with my brother while Kevin handled his phone call. He didn’t take long. “Classes canceled for the week. I don’t have to go back until next Sunday.” This time it was me who almost knocked him over. Okay…I admit that was my goal, but Kevin couldn’t be tackled. Not with all that Gorgeous muscle and size. I felt proud that he was my man.

Wow, things are moving fast! Max is handling it better than I expected. I love the details in this chapter, the juxtaposition of formal protocol and informal family and friends. It lends a seriousness to Max’s introduction in Monrovia.

I’m loving this! Please keep going!

So beautiful. You write so fluidly my mind just sails along picturing everything you describe. An amazing beginning for those four.

It’s beautiful in its perfect reverence, isn’t it.

ASSMUNCH ********************* When you get booted, it happens fast. It’s intended to be overwhelming so that you don’t have time to think because they’ve already decided you’re leaving. Oh, they play their games with the questions, instilling fear in you with threats of court martial if it’s that serious. They ask the questions, you answer. They lay out the worst case scenario if you choose to play it out, and everything is painted in terms of damning evidence no matter how flimsy. It didn’t matter anyway because no 19 year old has any idea what qualifies as admissible evidence and it’s all damning. And they know that. They know you don’t know any better and they use your ignorance against you. Add to that they’ve trained you to recognize the Army has total control over you. It’s not even subconscious, it’s right there in the front of your brain, every day. You don’t fight Command because you lose every time. But you’re scared. So fucking scared. You can’t think straight. Standing in front of your First Sergeant you have no power, no control and you feel your life slipping away. You want to throw up and feel like you’re going to lose control of your bladder and bowels. You’re told you could spend years in military prison. Almost none of what they hit you with is true or at least so unquestionable it can’t be argued. It’s pure Interrogation Manual tactics. But more experienced minds would instantly recognize if they lobbed a slow pitch like a less than honorable it meant they were hoping to get you to take yourself out because putting you through the grinder of a tribunal or trial had little chance of success. And the sickest, most twisted part of it is that you end up feeling just a little grateful that they’re being kind enough to give you a way out that doesn’t mean being dragged in front of a tribunal, your shame publicized, and you get to stay out of prison. All you have to do is admit you broke the military code of conduct or the UCMJ. When you have time in the long regret of life beyond your destroyed dreams you might think through it all with a clear head and realize the game they played. Maybe it would occur to you that they didn’t want the mess and negative publicity that formal discharge fight would entail. And you might follow the logic to the conclusion that if these old guard career military had anything near a slam dunk case you’d never get an offer of bowing out gracefully. The Army loved to make public examples of bad conduct. So, your older clearer mind would ponder, why would they work so hard to avoid making an example of you? Discharges happened for all sorts of reasons and routine ones happened weekly because the Army doesn’t tolerate fuck-ups. All that was going through my head when Sarge called me off the rifle range and told me to report to Top. We were in the middle of rifle qualification, and a summons by the First Sergeant was nothing less than dead serious, especially if it interrupts training. It was either because of the meet ups with Sleeper, or the stunt I pulled out in the field. If that fucker Puta ran his mouth I was going to make him eat through a straw for the next six months. Sarge was blank faced, I couldn’t read any clue from him and when I asked his reply was short. “First Sergeant’s orders. Don’t make him wait, Private.” So there I sat outside Top’s office trying not to lose my mind. I was going through explanations for my actions in an attempt to be prepared, but I had trouble focusing. Every worst case scenario kept interfering. Was this another tactic - interrupt my qualifications course, have me rush here, then make me stew until I was ready to break? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! “The First Sergeant is ready for you, Private. Go in.” His clerk jolted me back to reality. I knocked on the door and heard ‘Enter.’ from inside. I really tried to walk through the door with confidence but part of me knew I was anything but that. “Close the door Private.” I immediately did, then assumed attention. “First Sergeant.” I addressed him. “At ease, Brickmann.” The First Sergeant looked tired. He was maybe in his early 40’s, somewhere around my dad’s age. Still in pretty good shape, but I guess they don’t pick the fat ones to run the show, that might look bad. “Son, there’s no good or easy way to say this. Your father has died. Your mother is expecting your call. Use my phone. Nolan will put you through, just tell him the number.” He got up from his chair and motioned me to sit down. I didn’t move. What? That can’t be right. I just talked to him three days ago, Sunday. We talked about the playoffs and the upcoming college bowl games. He twisted his back playing golf, but was fine. He was going to take mom to some fancy restaurant and a play for her birthday next month. Just normal dad stuff. “Top, that’s not funny. Why am I here? Am I in trouble?” That made more sense. If this was another sick and stupid tactic to throw me off, they were about to meet one super pissed off Private. They could fuck ALL the way off with that bullshit. “Son, just-“ “DON’T CALL ME… “ I shut it down. Control. Stay in control, I told myself. “What is this about, First Sergeant? The truth…. please.” Top looked even more tired. “Call your mother. I’ll make it an order if I have to.” I moved around him to his chair and picked up the phone. I watched Top leave, closing the door behind him. I told SSgt. Nolan my home phone number, and heard my mom pick up. It was mid morning back home in Texas and I was glad that I wouldn’t be waking her up. “Mom? What’s going on?” I tried to sound calm, but my voice was shaking. “Tom, sweetheart your father died last night. I’m so sorry I have to tell you like this.” She sounded strangely composed. “How?” was all I could manage to get out. “He woke up about three, went to the bathroom, then came back asking where the heartburn medicine was. Then he couldn’t get back to sleep, so I made him a grilled cheese. You know he loves those. Then he sat in his chair and told me he married a good woman. He fell asleep in his chair, and when I went to put a blanket on him, he wasn’t breathing. The ambulance people said it might have been a heart attack from the sound of the symptoms.” I sat there stunned. How could he die like that, so fast? He wasn’t old. He was the strongest man I knew, he could handle anything. He couldn’t be gone. I imagined him sitting in his chair the last time I was home, we were watching ESPN talking about pre-season baseball and the Pittsburg Pirates. I imagined the smell of mom’s grilled cheese, also one of my favorites. I thought about the beer dad let me drink that trip, because he said I was a man now after graduating Basic. Even though he knew I’d had beer before, but this was my first beer with my dad, and yeah, that made me feel like a man for the first time too. “Tom? Are you okay?” Mom pulled me back from my thoughts. “Sweetheart, talk to me.” I reasserted control, clamped down on my crumbling heart and the tears I felt filling my eyes. This was not the time for that. My mom had to be hurting and I could push my own emotional storm down to do whatever I could to help her through this. I put the raging debris of my own feelings in a box and shoved it behind a door in my mind. This pain would not master me. “I’m okay, mom. Are you doing okay?” I answered her with a confidence that was entirely faked. The last thing she needed was to worry about me. She didn’t answer right away. Knowing her, she was probably trying to decide whether to believe me. Apparently she chose to let me lie to her. “I’m fine.” I heard her sigh. “There’s a lot to do, but I have time. I’m supposed to meet with your father’s commander today. He said they’ll do whatever they can to deal with the arrangements and paperwork. I don’t know what he’ll be able to do, but he’s going to talk with your commander and get you home for the funeral.” “When? Mom, I don’t know what happens if I don’t complete training. I’m too close to finishing.” God, if I had to choose, the Army was going to kiss my ass. Would they do that to me? Probably, the Army didn’t give a crap about our personal feelings. I slammed the panicked thought into the steel wall of my determination. Let them try. I welcomed the opportunity to prove they couldn’t force me to make an impossible choice. “I don’t know either, sweetheart. Talk to your First Sergeant. Call me this weekend, when you have time. We’ll both know more. Timmy wants to talk to you. I love you sweetheart.” My younger brother’s voice came over the phone. “Tom?” He sounded sad. “Yeah, little bro? You doing okay, bud?” Fuck, this was hard being half a world away. I should be there, hugging them both. My brother was only 16, he shouldn’t have to handle this shit without his big brother. This was a triple kick in the gut and the tears threatened to unman me again. There was an empty space left behind by my dad and I was SUPPOSED to fill it for my family, but I wasn’t there when they needed me. The unfairness and powerlessness made me angry. I couldn’t let it leak out where Tim could hear so I did what I had become far too comfortable with, I locked the anger away. I wasn’t important. My feelings didn’t matter. Tim needed me to be strong and I would help him be strong because we were TNT, TomAndTim… the dynamite Brickmann Bros. “Dad died, Tom. I don’t know how I am.” The lost sound in his words broke my fucking heart. “They took him away in the ambulance and he’s not here anymore and he should be here.” ‘I’m sorry I’m not there either, Tim’ I thought to myself. “Yeah, bud, I know. It sucks so bad. But you know mom needs you. I’m coming home, but I don’t know when they’ll get me there. So you gotta be the man, okay? Can you do that for me bud?” I heard him sniff and knew he was crying. That made me want to cry too. “I guess I can.” Tim said. “Mom said I don’t have to go to school, but I don’t want to be here. I don’t know if I want to go to school either. I don’t know, Tom. I don’t know where to go! What am I supposed to do?” The threat of losing control stampeded inside my chest at hearing my sweet brother falling apart and having no idea how to handle something no kid should have to endure. But I could help him at least this much. “You stick with mom today, buddy. She’s got a lot of calls to make, she’s going to the base, and probably more errands. Just hang out with her, and listen, to everything. I need you to tell me what you see and hear, and if mom loses it you call me here, I’ll make sure you have a number where you can get a message to me. We have to make sure mom’s okay. That’s all you have to do today, and tomorrow. Got it bro?” “Okay, Tom. Can you come home soon?” He said in a quiet voice. “As soon as the Army will let me. I love you, buddy. Can’t wait to see you and give you a huge hug.” “I love you too. Bye.” I stayed on the phone, wondering if mom was going to come back on, but it just clicked to silence. I hung up and went to the door. Outside, Top was standing next to SSGT Nolan at his desk, talking with him. They both looked over when they heard the sound of the door opening. “Everything okay, Private?” Top asked. “Yes. Everything’s fine.” I know it came out cold and emotionless, but I had no room in me for entertaining empty sympathies. “Could you make sure my family has a way to get a message to me any time they need to, even after duty hours?” “Already done, Private. SSGT Nolan is going to make the arrangements for you to get home for the funeral. Let’s talk in my office.” I got six days leave, two of which were for travel. They were flying me civilian there, through Frankfurt, then Atlanta, then Austin. They didn’t have a date for the funeral yet, so couldn’t get me on a hop to the States. But I would be on a military hop on the way back out of Ft. Hood because there would be plenty of lead time and there were already scheduled flights on the books for equipment and personnel transfer. Dad’s Commander said dad was eligible to be buried at Arlington. He was a Vietnam Vet, and died as an active duty soldier. But mom didn’t want him to be buried that far away from home. It was an immense honor that didn’t feel right for dad, or our family. There was a VA Cemetery in Killeen, Texas and the VA helped mom with all the arrangements, which was a godsend both financially and personally. Dad would like that. Sarge said all our training modules would be 98% complete by the time of my leave, and I could take my last test early or when I got back. The relief that brought freed me to focus on my training and thoughts of my family. I decided not to wait to try for Ranger School and told Sleeper, who then convinced Zeus to make his request with us. We filled out our paperwork in the Lieutenant’s office. Now it was up to the Army to decide if we had what they wanted for the Rangers after completing AIT. It seemed more important now that I didn’t take my time moving forward with my career in the Army. Yeah, dad had cautioned me to wait, to get more experience serving before making that choice, but I couldn’t shake the need to determine the important course of my career NOW. Why should I wait? Delaying held an emptiness, a void that demanded to be filled as if having too many possibilities diluted all potential. Dad had died, which painted everything in colors of finality - my completion of AIT, the probable separation of my Platoon as we got PCS’d to different duty stations in new locations, turning 20 and leaving behind the title of teenager. So why shouldn’t I clean the whole slate, leaving the Infantry behind? That the word Infantry spelled out ‘Infant try’ seemed like a sign to me. I could not accept being led anymore, my path was my own to determine. I was no longer a child who could rely on my dad to guide me. Necessity demanded a choice as it always does and I felt the weight of the waiting decision smothering me with its constant presence. I could not reason it away. Foolishly I held myself apart from my brothers who meant well but had no comparable experience with which to empathize. Their sympathies felt obligatory which on some level I knew was unfair to them. “Sorry about your dad, bro.” Empty words. They could never pull me from where I tumbled in the back flow undercurrent of the seething rapids that my thoughts and feelings had become. They still traveled on the surface down the river, while I existed trapped by this vortex. I moved through the next week and a half with a machined efficiency, using tasks and classes to get me through each day. I called home collect every night before bed check just to let mom and Tim know I was there in spirit and to hear how things were going. I had to travel by train to Frankfurt for my flight. I should have enjoyed the sights of the countryside but I let my mind get lost, retreating to that place where there was no ‘me’. I left my body on automatic, my brain knew what to do. I had to change trains once, but travel by train in Europe was easy I found. At the airport there was a USO volunteer waiting for me in front of the ticket counter. I didn’t need a babysitter and the unjustified anger that flared up inside me brought me to my senses before I lashed out. It was unlike me to get angry. I wanted to hit something, or someone. I shoved it behind another steel door in my mind without looking at the feeling too closely. I hadn’t brought much with me because I had civilian clothes at home that would still fit so I didn’t need to check a bag. I brought my Class A’s for the funeral and a couple other things, which fit easily into a medium sized army issue backpack. He already had my tickets printed out and explained my layover in Atlanta and how to find my flight to Austin. I regretted the anger I’d felt. It was actually helpful that he’d done all the footwork for me. I suppose that was his job, but I still felt grateful that it would allow me to avoid reality for just a while longer. I ignored his approving eyes as I felt him checking me out while we walked to my gate. He could tell I wasn’t in a talkative mood and stayed silent, for which I was relieved. As we passed a bar, I told him I wanted a beer. In the States the drinking age was now 21, but here in Germany any 16 year old could drink beer, and liquor at 18. My gate was not far, and Phillip responded with a polite no thank you when I offered to buy him one too. He was working, which I understood. I wanted to be alone anyway. I said goodbye to Phillip, and thanked him for his help. He told me to contact the USO office here at the airport if something happened with my flight, and I had a momentary panic that there was the possibility I couldn’t get home. “Just in case, Private. Nothing will go wrong.” He said when he saw my panicked face. I didn’t correct him about calling me Private when I was out of uniform. He had to know better. I think he was agreeing to the distance I demanded with my quietness. I had three hours before my flight. I ordered a beer and sat at the bar. Before I was almost done with my first, I felt someone take the seat beside me. “Flying home, soldier?” The rough American voice said. I turned to look. A man in his low 30’s sat there, his hair cut to regulation, but even if it hadn’t marked him as military his bearing would. He was ruggedly handsome, a seriousness hung in the air around him that spoke of deadly competence and unworried confidence. Before I could answer, he told the bartender to get me another, and one for him. “Yeah. Family business.” I responded. I neglected to thank him for the beer. “Ah. A funeral then. Who?” No empty words of sympathy. No attempts to soothe my pain. I found myself grateful for the casual directness. He seemed to know that assumed familiarity would bring bitterness. Maybe he’d been in my shoes, it sure seemed like it. “My dad.” He raised his glass to offer a toast. “To your dad. And fuck the bullshit of losing them young.” The perfection of his words brought my own glass up to join his without thought, the ease of the natural conclusion did more to calm the turbulence inside me than all the sympathy in the world could do. I really looked at him this time. He wore civvies, a long sleeved grey plaid flannel over a thermal undershirt, the sleeves rolled up over thick forearms that had a sprinkling of dark brown hair. Faded jeans which gripped his sturdy thighs above brown suede hiking boots. His brown eyes possessed a hardened severity that spoke of his own memories of death, locked immobile in an unblinking stare ahead. He allowed a couple minutes of silence while we sipped our beers. It felt right, this shared pain. “I’ll listen if you want, but that’s not what you need, is it?” It was gruff, but kind. Again he saw me exactly where I was. No, I didn’t need a shoulder to cry on, least of all from a stranger. So we talked with few words over the next two hours, and he told me he he was with the 75th, a Ranger. I told him I’d made my request and hoped to go to Ranger School. We spoke of many things, none of them about my dad. There were frequent stretches of silence, and it was comfortable. I realized he knew. He knew that it was not his place to hear those intimate details, and that sharing them would not help me. He wasn’t trying to distract me. We were simply being… being there, together. At some point I realized our arms touched as we leaned them on the bar while we talked. I came to notice we sipped our beers with our other hands so that the contact would remain. I felt his strength, wanting to siphon it from him, maybe borrow it for what was ahead. I focused my eyes on his hand, relaxed so close to mine. Rough and capable with scars that decorated his knuckles, his middle finger slightly misaligned as if from an injury that hadn’t healed right. His skin was closer to a working worn than an unused softness. Busy hands familiar with facility and struggle. Before we’d finished our third beer, he said “let’s go”. I brought my glass up to drink the last of mine, and he stopped me with a hand on my wrist. “Leave it. For them.” His hard stare allowed no argument. It said this was the way of men, of homage and respect and keeping their memory. Those of us left behind could not forget, the fallen deserved no less. And in that moment the loss of my father seemed graciously less than the loss he’d endured. Suddenly, the full mug that had sat untouched beside his the entire time hit me. Hard. “There it is.” He said softly. He wrapped his heavy arm around my neck and pressed his face to the short new hair growth on my head as silent tears fell from my eyes. I leaned into his soft grey flannel, his solidness an anchor. I didn’t cry or sob. It wasn’t self pity or useless indulgence flowing from my eyes. The sudden knowledge of irreversible change and being forced to move forward when the unfulfilled will exist beside you always and pushes at your soul. My tears were recognition of what was rather than what wasn’t: the pain I had to carry with honor. It was the first thaw of a frozen river, quiet but gently inevitable as rivulets descended over my cheeks to drip from my jaw. His warm nearness coupled with the heat of his breathing against my skull melted the frigid world inside me. His lips were soft against my ear. It was intimate not invasive. I don’t know how long we sat like that, it felt both too long and not long enough, but he didn’t move until I returned from the emptiness. “Thank you.” I mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed, righting myself. “No shame.” Again he allowed no argument. “If you join us, you’ll be my brother. We’re the only ones who understand. There is no shame, not with us.” He gave me a solid pat on the back. “Let’s go, we’re boarding.” He and three of his brothers were on my flight, and because the plane wasn’t full, after takeoff they moved to sit in empty seats around me. I felt like they were protecting me. No… not that. They were letting me rest on their strength, to show me how strength was shared and your brothers carried the weight when you couldn’t. They shared their laughter and some tales of their adventures, avoiding anything serious. I slept some, as did they, but it seemed like there was always at least one of them keeping an eye on me. I realized I had been wrong to keep myself apart from my brothers in the Bravos, most especially Sleeper, but also Zeus the only one who hadn’t tried to fill my emptiness with platitudes. We said goodbye after landing in Atlanta. They were headed to Washington. They each hugged me tight, said “see ya around, little bro.” which felt really good. The funeral was somber, with a dignity I think I only understood after the Rangers had taken me under their wing. There was an honor guard, and I and my brother Tim helped carry the casket, positioned in the middle. Some of Dad’s friends had come. Mom was presented with the flag and she cried. I handed her one of Dad’s handkerchiefs I’d taken from his drawer, instead of the Kleenex she pulled from her purse, the simple act of which made her cry more, but that was okay. I was surprisingly fine, having found my peace. It was sad, and so unnecessary, but it couldn’t be undone. The closest ones, family and lifelong friends, gathered at the house after. Most everyone arrived together, but the door was left open for people to come and go. I was talking with two of Dad’s buddies from Vietnam, they’d kept in touch after they’d left the Army in ‘73. Our house was full, so when I caught a flash of straight blonde hair beside dark hair, I froze. I excused myself from the men I was talking with, and wove through the people. Grandma stopped me to ask how I was doing for the tenth time since I’d been home. I assured her I was okay, asked her if she needed anything, to which she replied “that’s my job young man. You don’t worry about that.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the boss.” I replied with a chuckle. “I bet Grandpa loves that.” Her grin was just a bit improper. “He does, dear. Often.” I about choked. “Why Grandma, I’m shocked!” “No you’re not.” She sipped her wine giving me a knowing look. “I think I saw your pretty blonde girl come in a few minutes ago, shameless boy. Maybe you should find her.” I was NOT ready for my Grandmother to know about Carol and my sexual history, but I guess mom and dad knew more than I thought they did if passing it on to my Grandparents made it family knowledge. “I’m going to avoid the embarrassment and take your advice. I love you Grandma.” I kissed her again and continued searching. I found them talking with my mom, obviously offering proper respects. I was not prepared for the sight of them and how I reverted to high school Tom. Some of the feelings surfaced, but I refused to acknowledge them. They hadn’t seen me and were faced away, which meant my mom noticed me first from between their shoulders. She stopped talking and they turned to see what had caught her attention. God, he looked the same, except for the dark suit he wore that only made him look stronger and more powerful than I remembered. But there was something more to him, something more real. He had a presence that was undeniable with its ephemeral weight. His almost black hair was braided back cleanly in two thick braids to either side of the crown of his head, joining at the back above the loose cascade that fell to his shoulders. His straight remarkably defined jaw accented his handsome face like it always had. He gazed at me unflinchingly, direct and deep. His eyes were not soft grey flannel, they were the color of a promised storm. And I felt him pull me in. I resisted with the strength I borrowed, the pain I’d endured and the resolute steel I’d forged with the molten memories I had to burn with the pieces of my soul he’d left me. It was a bloody battle we fought there in the midst of my oblivious guests. His determination assaulted my carefully built fortress. I felt the gates begin to fail. “Kevin, don’t. Please.” I begged. It was all I had left. “No Tom.” He dismissed me. “I know why you won’t answer my letters. I understand why you think you needed to do everything you did. But what you’re too stubborn to admit is that it wasn’t necessary.” It was almost angry how he said it. Retreat is wise in the face of overwhelming odds. But I was trapped by obligation and had nowhere to go, and couldn’t even disappear to the place where I didn’t exist because I couldn’t trust my automatic brain not to fall into his arms and surrender me to him like it had always done. “Kevin, maybe we should do this later.” Carol said softly, putting her hand on Kevin’s arm. I still couldn’t break his gaze, he was a weakness for me. But his eyes became lighter, the softness returned. That only made it harder to resist him, but they released me, finally. “Thank you both for coming.” I struggled for something neutral. “But aren’t you missing classes?” That sounded dumb, even to me. I didn’t know how college worked. “It’s winter break. We don’t start again until next week.” Carol explained. “Oh, I didn’t know that.” I stumbled in the words. “Can you… would you tell me what it’s like? How is college life?” I was truly interested. I needed to know they were both doing well, that life was everything they wanted. I felt out of place in my own house, this civilian world while we talked about their experiences, the cities they lived in, all the normal things they did that I could never do. It was too different, and it made me miss my Platoon and the Bravo Brotherhood. The things I did and what l learned seemed far more important than football games and crazy professors. Although sad, it was clear we were growing apart, at least Carol and I. Kevin felt even better than I remembered. He had a power to him that is hard to describe, shored up by a confidence that had only grown since graduation. He still wasn’t a talker, but this reluctance to speak came from a place of strength rather than from holding back. I often moved away from them, telling them I’d be back, so I could circulate and make sure I spent time with everyone who had come to remember my dad. I listened to their favorite stories of him, learned a lot about who he was when he was younger. A memorial can be a gift. I had dreaded it before today, but was now thankful for it because it was like my dad lived again today in every story and conversation. It was late now, almost 9:30. Everyone had left except Grandpa and Grandma, who helped us clean up. I’d said goodbye to Kevin and Carol a couple hours ago. At the end of it, it was nice to hang out with them again. And they watched over Tim, keeping him from going off to hide in his room. Tim loved them both, and they’d always made him feel special while we were together in high school. Finally Grandma and Grandpa left for their hotel. Neither mine nor Tim’s bed was big enough for them, and that’s all we had. I said good night to mom, gave her a kiss, and went to go shower and go to bed. Not long after I fell asleep, I felt the bed move, and someone crawling into bed with me. “Tim, you okay buddy?” I asked, rolling over to hug him. But it wasn’t Tim’s smooth chest I felt. He felt too good to let go, but I managed to blurt out “This isn’t a good idea, Kev.” I could manage that much. “You’re the only one who thinks that, Tom. So how about you shut up?” And then he grabbed me into a spoon, wrapping his big arms around me and pulling me into his hairy chest. I didn’t have the strength to fight him. I could smell his scent and with the exhaustion of today’s events it put me right to sleep, his mouth breathing gently against my neck. I woke up holding him in our usual sleeping position, me behind him, naked. My traitorous automatic brain did this, that fucking bastard. My hardness was nestled in his cheeks, my face in his beautiful sweet smelling hair. My body remembered how it was supposed to be even if my mind didn’t want to remember and fought my awareness with drowsy relaxation. I hugged him tighter, my hips grinding into his backside, and before I realized what I was doing I was kissing his neck. I know I was only half conscious and was lost in the comfortable weightlessness of this beautiful man. He shifted slightly, moaning in my arms, half asleep himself. My rigidity found his spot, but we were both enjoying this intimacy too much to pay too close attention. He was now meeting me for every grinding push. “I miss you, Tom” he mumbled. “I miss you every day.” We both gasped when I slipped inside him, but neither of us ceased our lazy movements. My entry was not deep just…there. My hands rubbed his solid chest, which felt so much firmer than I remembered. My mouth worked on his neck and jaw, tasting him all over again. I ran a hand down his flank amazed at the hardness I was feeling. None of it felt real, it was a languorous dream state so slow I don’t recognize the moment I was fully inside him. We simply moved so minutely every sensation became exquisite. There was no purpose to it, merely a desire to float on this overwhelming feeling forever. We remained that way for some time, I am unsure how long moving almost imperceptibly together, my length filing him for the first time, but it was long enough for every wall I’d built to crumble into dust, allowing my love for him to rise like the morning sun to warm away the ice with which I’d frozen my memories of him. “I love you Kev.” I said into his hair. “I miss you so bad I can’t take it sometimes. I’m sorry.” I whispered. “I’m sorry I’m not strong enough for you.” The tears were coming now as I cried into his hair, and with their release I felt my balls let go sending my love deep inside him. “I’ll be strong for both of us.” He sighed.

The ones I remember best were always the ones who shared my passion and excitement. I’ve been very fortunate to have encountered and bred so many beautiful guys.

Thanks man! I hope I can keep the heat going through this next story arc.

@laguyinhou, LOL things were going too perfectly. If you can’t handle the pain, you should have joined the Air Force. <grin>

ASSMUNCH ******************** “Fuck, my ass hurts.” Sleeper groaned. “Shut up you big baby.” I snorted. “You forget, I know what kind of pain that is. It’s the kind that reminds you over and over how hard you shot your load while your shitter got destroyed. Every spike of pain damn near makes your dick hard all over again. And you feel proud you took it all the way.” I helped him climb off the crates and handed him his flimsy bikini briefs. “If you don’t feel tougher because you took that beating, you aren’t thinking of it right.” Zeus and I, not having undressed, just flipped up the waistbands of our respective bottoms, my shorts and his sweatpants neither of which left our thighs. Sleeper paused. “Yeah, it does kind of feel like that. I never thought getting fucked would make me feel like more of a man. That’s fucked up though.” “It’s just sex.” I shrugged. “Some things make it better. Freeing your mind is the only way to really get the most out of it.” Sleeper crossed his arms. “Still not sure about the kissing. No offense, Zeus.” He offered. “It’s just too…. “ “Personal?” I suggested when he paused. Sleeper gestured apologetically. “Yeah. Like I’m supposed to get all soft and mushy with a dude. But that’s not how I feel.” I reached out to squeeze my best friend’s shoulder. “Fair enough. But Zeus was driving that bus, the kissing was for him, not you. You did something that let him enjoy it more so it’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Zeus chimed in with a determined, unapologetic blunt observation. “I wanted to kiss you.” Which, Zeus being a God, put an end to that and I knew if we ever did this again Sleeper was just going to deal with Zeus’s tongue down his throat. Zeus’s overwhelming presence made denial a non-option, like trying to refuse a second beer, or hitting on a hot chick when her boyfriend’s back was turned. “Let’s go crash. I’m worn out.” I changed the subject. We didn’t need to prolong this clandestine meeting. Tomorrow we had studying to do, laundry, barracks maintenance and housekeeping because we’d probably be getting an inspection at some point. That was another fact of life we had to deal with here. Being quartered as a unit meant keeping our shared space up to Army standards and regulations. Other posts didn’t have to put up with that beyond Basic, the detailed micro inspection of a D.I. Yeah, it was expected that the common areas of dorm style quarters were clean and orderly, and room inspection happened IF you gave your superiors a reason, but it was nowhere near the insane expectations for a barracks. I opened the door a crack to make sure the coast was clear. No one was in the hallway. I darted out, closing the door behind me. Just as I got to the corner, Puta walked out from the door down the other direction that led to the toilets and showers. Fuck! Anyone else I could distract back to the bunk bay, and I hoped Zeus and Sleeper were smart enough to space out our leaving the storage room. But Puta was a stubborn ass who ferreted out manipulation like a cadaver dog sniffing out a dead body. I made sure to barely acknowledge him, putting the thought in my head that I was just finishing up the party cleanup, and kept walking around the corner. Believe the story in your head and your body wouldn’t give away nervousness or deception. “Ay, Puta, why you no done yet?” Puta said from behind me. I gave him a half-lidded gaze, signaling I didn’t want to deal with his crap. “I AM done yet, Puta.” I walked a little faster, hoping it would lead him away from any position he might see Zeus or Sleeper exiting the storage room. “Getting all that shit put back to hide our stash takes as long as it takes.” As we entered the bay where we all slept, I realized the flaw in my story. Only four racks were empty. And I know Puta saw that too. Sleeper’s, mine, and Zeus’s racks were the only ones not slept in, appearing untouched and perfectly regulation. “Yes, Puta. Doin’ dat takes a while. Hmmmm?” The Puerto Rican sounded like he was making a threat. Oh, I didn’t like that. That was not gonna happen. “You got a problem, Puta? Something on your mind?” I looked directly in his eyes, challenging him to meet me on my level. Physically, Puta and I were sized equally, his bravery was all mental and if I had to I would put him in his place and remind him why I was Squad Leader. He didn’t scare me. That’s the bonus of having closed off every emotional feeling you possessed - I just didn’t give a fuck. If Puta wanted to dial things up, I could crank up my dial until he realized he wasn’t going to win. The dead, unflinching look in my eyes seemed to shake him. He looked away. It was critical that he didn’t say out loud what he might have been thinking, because there was no path back from that. “I don’t got no problem, Assmunch.” “Maybe I heard wrong. Sorry for jumping, brother.” Always give them a face-saving out, a way to keep their pride. His use of my nickname rather than calling me Puta was his apology. Ah, the dance we had to do to maintain the fiction, let a man remain unimmasculated, and keep anything REAL from getting within arm’s length. He fired his passive volley, I put it back in his face, he realized he’d put himself in a no-win situation, apologized, and I forgave him all without saying any of that explicitly. But I was still irritated that he wouldn’t have dared pull that shit with Zeus or Sleeper. My intuition flared up and told me that there was a sliver of a possibility I had read it wrong, but it wasn’t enough to bring me to the point of saying anything. I did make sure my gaze never left him, watching him walk to his messy bunk and climbing under the blankets, the entire time I was reading his body language for clues to what might have given him the ballsy courage to challenge me. He appeared suitably cowed, so I turned to head to my rack when Zeus entered the bay. Keeping my voice low, but still enough for Puta to hear if he was listening which I knew he was, I said “Why are you still awake, Zeus? I thought you’d be asleep by now.” God, I hoped the giant could read between the lines. Zeus’s eyes darted to Puta’s bunk behind me, and I relaxed. He had to have heard us talking. “I had something to do, Assmunch.” Perfect. Almost dismissive without even a hint of any other emotion. Zeus wouldn’t lie, which was what I was afraid of the most - that nerve-wracking habit of blunt inappropriateness. But I should have known in such a public space with all the brothers present Zeus would revert to that calm, unruffled dangerous tight-lipped personal shield he wore like an unassailable fortification. I really needed to learn how to do that… it would have stopped Puta before he even got out of the gate with whatever he was thinking. “Well let’s get some sleep.” I said, going to my rack. It took me less than a minute to fall into an exhausted sleep. ***************** The next couple weeks passed with me trying to keep my composure after the run-in with Puta. I had to warn Sleeper and Zeus to lay low. It wasn’t so much Sleeper I was worried about in that regard, but Zeus because puppy dog Zeus had no restraint. Thankfully they both got the message. Every once in a while I’d see Puta staring at me or watching Zeus and Sleeper as if trying to puzzle out whether what he suspected really happened, and between who. Puta wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out three of his squad disappeared at the same time for no good reason. I think he was confused about how it could involve either of those two because neither was a guy you’d believe could do anything with another guy. We got lucky I suppose, for a number of obvious reasons. One, that it was Zeus, Sleeper and me who were under his scrutiny -the three brothers you didn’t want to mess with. Two, that with three of us it made it difficult to know which two were fucking around and if he guessed wrong it wasn’t going to go well for him to expose the wrong guys. I could read that much in his stares, him trying to do the math and fit the puzzle pieces together of who might do what with who. Three, that none of us acted any different than we always did. Zeus stayed quiet, kept to himself. Sleeper remained the confident arrogant prick who flaunted himself. And me spreading my attention around to everyone who needed help with our current training section, catching screw ups before they caught Sarge’s attention, keeping the Squad and the Bravos on task and focused which meant I didn’t need to spend more than brief moments with Sleeper or Zeus who both had an exceptional handle on their training. And four, the most important one of all - he had no proof. He hadn’t seen or heard shit, not even us leaving the storage room together. That didn’t mean it wasn’t weighing on me. We only had a few weeks to go, and then we’d be broken up and shipped off to our new permanent station, folded in to our new battalions where we’d become true soldiers. Of course I blamed myself a little for being so careless. I made the decision right then that there wouldn’t be any more meet ups. But when it all came crashing down, Puta wasn’t the problem.

Wow! I love how Max fits right in! This chapter makes me very happy!

That was amazing!

HORVATH AND WALTERS *********************************** Saturday night in a chilly German November meant three things: No junior grunts to herd; a buttery, smoky, woodsy bourbon, warmed and neat, of course; and the sweet taste of a fat Arturo Fuente Especiales cigar. Sergeants Horvath and Walters sat enjoying the draw of smoke on the patio of their rented off post quarters. “So what do you think of this batch? I sure as hell didn’t see last night coming. That Brickmann—“. Walters started. Horvath interrupted his buddy. “Hey! No work. Let’s just relax. I leave that shit on post.” “Fair enough.” Walters acquiesced. They enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, sipping the smooth bourbon. The Kentucky liquor made sitting out in the chilly evening pleasant, both of them lounging in sweats and a tee shirt. Horvath’s ubiquitous body hair tufted out the collar and the stretched sleeves of his tee shirt. Then Horvath spoke. “I could go for some local takeout.” Walters nodded. “What flavor?” “That kid, Jürgen. He loves my großer Schwanz, and takes it like a pro. It really sucks that most women take one look at it and refuse to do anything more than jerk me off.” The fur covered Hungarian mused. Walters chuckled. “I think you’ve got a soft spot for that kid.” Horvath answered with a snort and a puff of his cigar. The resulting cloud lingered for a while in the still night air. “He’s got a soft spot for me to put my dick. That’s as far as it goes.” Walters shrugged, not believing a word of that. The way he treated Jürgen with kindness and attention said loud and clear more was there than a straightforward fuck. “Give him a call, then. Inge got herself a boyfriend, so I’m going to need some too.” “Brother, you’re an idiot.” Horvath said, pointing the ash hanging on the end of the tobacco leaf wrapped cylinder at his friend. “She likes you. Why don’t you snatch that fräulein up? You’d have beautiful blonde green eyed babies with her.” Walters had thought about it, many times. But he was still young, hadn’t made Sergeant First Class yet, even though it would be soon, he felt. The recent Gulf War, which hadn’t really been a war because the Iraqis hardly put up a fight, meant the rank would remain full until some of those decided not to re-enlist and the Army allowed them to cycle out. Certain skill sets had to be retained in mobilization to ensure mission success and continuity. It was just bad timing in his career. At any other time, he and Horvath would have made rank already at 27 years old. There was no retirement at the low rank just above Staff Sergeant, so openings weren’t going to happen that way. He had all his points and time, his last test couldn’t have gone better and he was on the list, and of course the fitness portion was a joke for him even if the idiotic charts said his height/weight proportion put him in the ‘overweight’ column. But that was the Army, they had one measuring stick. He and Horvath just had to wait to put on their rank. He had nothing to offer Inge right now except the loneliness of a military wife and eventually taking her away from her home and family. She would have nothing in common with the other NCO wives, and being low man on the NCO totem pole didn’t get him invited to a lot of get togethers by the senior NCOs, not to mention the wives could be petty and mean, dependent upon their husbands place in the hierarchy even more than the soldiers themselves. Rank and position was a political barrier in full effect in the military, and paying your dues, putting on insignia and stripes, filling your ribbon rack was how it worked. Receiving recognition got your foot in the door. Until then, you were just another uniform in the chain. “Just bad timing, brother. You know we probably only have a year more here. If they extend us, I might make it serious with Inge.” Horvath looked at his friend. “You’re going to regret it, but it’s your life.” And he got up to use the phone inside, placing his half smoked cigar in the ashtray. He dialed Jürgen’s number, a woman answered, probably his mother. “Guten abend. Können Ich mit Jürgen zusprechen, bitte?” Horvath requested politely. “Ja, natürlich .” He heard her call to Jürgen in the background. “Hallo?” The boyish voice answered. “Hallo, Junge.” Horvath said, knowing Jürgen would know immediately who it was from his voice and being called ‘boy’. “Was machst du jetzt?” “Ich studiere für meine Universitätsprüfung, mein Herr.” Jürgen attended the University in the city a short train ride from the town next to the Army base. “Ich brauche dich.” Horvath ordered him with a growl. There was no hesitation. “Ja, mein Herr. Ich komme sofort!” The kid hung up. It wouldn’t take him 15 minutes to arrive. While they waited, they sucked down the short remainder of their cigars and bourbon, passing the time in silence. Silence with a good friend was rewarding. Horvath couldn’t stand people who had to fill the emptiness with meaningless chatter. Walters felt the same way. They soon heard the patio door open. The tall but thin blonde German eighteen year old stood naked in the doorway. He knew the drill, letting himself in and undressing fully right away, one of the things Horvath liked about the kid - he followed orders. Jürgen’s lightly furred legs were longer than his torso, sleek but proportional to his narrow hips. Above his crotch he was hairless except for his armpits, but his light blonde hair almost disappeared against his skin. The kid had a beautiful face, with a straight nose and prominent squared off clefted chin, between the two features sat a set of pouty pink lips that the hairy Sergeant loved seeing wrapped around his fat pork tenderloin. He had wide set sky blue eyes with long blonde lashes, straight wispy eyebrows, and a smooth, wide forehead. His curly blonde hair was just the right length for Horvath to get his furry paws into and grab hold of. The kid was going to break a lot of hearts. Especially with the thick uncut knackwurst and heavy balls hanging soft between his legs. “Good evening, Sirs.” The kid’s mild voice said in a slight German accent. He’d been practicing. It was one of the only situations in which Horvath or Walters would accept being called ‘Sir’. Civilians didn’t know any better, and it didn’t do any good to explain to them that Sir for an NCO bordered on being an insult. Rank was earned through hard work, sweat, and pain. Address left no room for assuming more than deserved. “Komm hier, Junge.” Horvath instructed. Jürgen immediately approached. There was no shame about nudity in the German culture, and it didn’t matter to the kid that the neighbors could see him baring all on the patio of their flat. It also wouldn’t raise any eyebrows that he was naked in the presence of two older men. It wouldn’t matter even if they all were undressed. “Mein Herr, kann Ich eine Anfrage stellen?” The timid youth asked. “Frage.” Horvath replied. “May Sir speak English with the boy?” Jürgen was looking down rather than making eye contact. Horvath chuckled. “Will Sir speak English with his boy.” He corrected. “Will Sir speak English with his boy? I must practice my English. And the American accent of Sir…Sirs.. is… geile macht?” “You think my American accent is hot? Sexy? Turns you on?” Jürgen looked up and gave a wide, bright smile that lit up his entire boyishly handsome face. “Ja! Eh, yes, Sir! Is very much sexy. Your speaking of Deutsch is very good, there is little accent in the words. My English is not good so I must learn better speaking, Sir.” His eyes darted to the ashtray and the glasses. “Would Sirs wish more?” He indicated the table. Horvath lifted and eyebrow towards Walters. His friend nodded. “Yes boy. And warm the bourbon. You may have some if you want.” “Thank you, Sir, but it is not for a boy. American whiskey is only for a man…the men? Bier… bee-err” he practiced, trying to give the right inflection and pronunciation, “that is for boys.” Horvath grinned. The kid was adorable. “There’s Heffeweissen in the fridge… refrigerator. Help yourself.” “Thank you, Sir.” The lanky blonde started to turn away, then stopped. “Help myself? What is the meaning , Sir? It is not helping to drink bee-err. It is just drinking bee-err.” “What does that mean?” Horvath corrected. “It means you have permission to serve yourself, or do whatever you need to in order to accomplish the goal. In this case, going into the refrigerator and getting yourself a beer so that you can drink it.” Jürgen smiled happily again. “I will help myself, Sir. But I will first help my Sirs.” Horvath and Walters eyed the statuesque youth’s pert fuzzy ass as he strode through the patio door. Jürgen walked proudly upright, shoulders back, in a smooth efficient stride that spoke of being comfortable with his body, athleticism and youthful strength. In just a couple years, he would be a man to be reckoned with. He returned quickly with two cigars. He took the cutter from the table and snipped just above the shoulder of the first cigar while standing next to the Sergeant. Horvath watched him, placing a hand on Jürgen’s nicely rounded ass. The kid had learned well. He let Horvath inspect the cut. Horvath nodded. Then Jürgen put the tobacco tube in his mouth and lit the end, taking quick shallow puffs until a visible ash appeared. He extended the perfectly lit cigar, burning end out, to the burly Sergeant. “Good job, boy.” Jürgen smiled proudly at the praise, and his flaccid cock swelled a bit. He did the same for Walters, moving to stand touching Walters’ shoulder with his naked hip, leaning into him with a bit of weight which was actually negligible to the well built Army man. Herr Walters liked it when he was forward and playful. After handing the other Army soldier the lit cigar, he went back inside to prepare the Woodford Reserve bourbon, which didn’t take long. He knew to heat the glass, then pour the bourbon in, which allowed the whiskey to warm gradually, releasing the deep flavors without evaporating the alcohol. He had learned so much from the two American military, not just about satisfying their needs. Although he should not be arrogant, he did feel like he was far more experienced than his friends, who were still playing children’s games, while he learned how to be a real man from Herr Horvath and Herr Walters. He already carried himself with far more confidence and masculine demeanor than his contemporaries. His parents had noticed the improvement, and encouraged his interaction with the Americans. They weren’t completely ignorant of what may be going on, but as long as the influence was positive, a young man needed to use this time to experience what the world held. One of those things was expected to be sexual exploration and experimentation. After University, Jürgen could get serious and decide which direction his life would take. He took the two warmed glasses to the Americans, along with two flat ceramic stones he’d also warmed which would continue to radiate the heat necessary to bring out the best in the whiskey. The Americans didn’t pour their whiskey down their throats like Americans in the movies. They taught him that good whiskey, or any good liquor for that matter, should be savored slowly. Getting drunk and losing control was juvenile, and real men kept their wits about them at all times. Real men sought out and enjoyed those things and behaviors that improved their lives, and avoided those that damaged them. It was called treating yourself with respect. You didn’t deserve respect from others if you didn’t first give respect to yourself. Real men also stated plainly what they wanted, and right now Jürgen wanted to play with Herr Horvath’s beautiful beast sized schwanz. “May I suck you, Sir?” He asked. Horvath leaned back, cigar in one hand, bourbon in the other and spread his legs as an answer. The young blonde wasted no time taking a drink of his beer, setting it on the table, then kneeling in front of his extra large target. From behind him he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Here Jürgen, kneel on this.” Herr Walters held out his folded tee shirt. The 18 year old may wish to serve them, but this was not a relationship of abuse and punishment. It was not ownership. It was mutually beneficial interaction, sharing pleasure, accepting responsibility for the care and treatment of someone who looked up to them, who wanted to learn from them, who trusted them not to hurt him. Inflicting deliberate pain served no purpose with a young man who thrived on praise and kindness. Their goal was to instill confidence and self authority, not dismantle his ability to function independently. Jürgen was not willful or foolish, he was very intelligent and respectfully polite. Germans, for the most part, did not teach their children to be entitled brats like so many American parents. Character mattered. Pride in who you were came from how you behaved. Although similar to how they trained soldiers at work, Jürgen did not need to be broken into subservience so that orders would be followed without question. Jürgen placed the shirt under his knees, then reached up to pull down the front of Herr Horvath’s sweat pants. He could feel the heat coming off the American’s legs, and although he wasn’t cold being a native that grew up here, the warmth felt good, even more because of who was generating it. Jürgen felt safe and cocooned between those large legs. He wished Herr Horvath was naked. His thick natural fur was beautiful. As evidenced by the lush bush that covered several centimeters of that long, thick penis. Tucking the sweatpants below the American’s hairy balls, he leaned in to nuzzle the slowly filling tube of flesh with his handsome face. Horvath set his bourbon on the still warm ceramic stone, tilted his head back and placed his cigar between his teeth, drawing a heavy pull from the burning tobacco, holding the smoke for a moment in his mouth before releasing a cloud into the air. He rested his hands in Jürgen’s soft blonde curls, just about encompassing his entire head with his man paws. He let the eager young man nudge and rub his cock. Jürgen’s cold hands moved up onto Horvath’s stomach, under his shirt to play with his furry pelt. “Just what I needed.” Horvath uttered from the side of his mouth that wasn’t gripping the cigar. He lightly massaged Jürgen’s head, playing with the loose rings of his straw colored hair. They’d taught him to take his time, savor it, enjoy it like everything else worth doing. And right now he was smelling and licking and sucking the Sergeant’s furry nuts. He was content simply being in physical contact with this fine specimen of masculinity. He made sure Herr Horvath’s furry eggs were soaked with saliva before he moved up to lick the massive shaft of his now erect and heavy cock. It was quite large, the biggest one he’d seen so far in his young life. Fully as thick around as his wrist, and almost as long as his forearm, the sheer size of it had frightened him at first. But Herr Walters had patiently taught him how to handle a man of that quality, showing him how to ease it into his throat, to ignore the urge to gag and choke which would only make it worse. It seemed like it would never fit, but the gentle words of Herr Walters after his demonstration assured him it was possible and only a matter of willpower. He licked his way up to the hooded head, sucking on the leaking foreskin, tasting the delicious flavor of his Sir’s precum. Then, grasping the base, he let his tongue play inside the loose skin, rolling it around the sensitive glans and extracting every drop of the salty fluid that had collected there. Herren Horvath and Walters were talking casually about plans for tomorrow, smoking their cigars, sipping their American whiskey, while he enjoyed himself between the man’s legs. Every so often, Herr Horvath would stroke his face gently, or play with his hair, sometimes holding the cigar between the fingers of that hand while he did so. The attention made him feel warm inside, loved, accepted. The acrid smoke of the burning leaf so close to his face only enhanced the feelings, because it now was associated with masculine, mature, strong men. He longed to taste the tobacco on Herr Horvath’s tongue, but Sir did not kiss. Herr Walters would kiss Jürgen, though. He’d learned how to become a very good kisser from Herr Walters. He pulled the foreskin back gently, exposing the light brown head, which was still pumping out drips of penile lubricant. He cupped his lips and surrounded the tip, forcing his tongue into the piss slit to lick out more. Herr Horvath had a very large hole for spritzen. Jürgen could almost get the entire tip of his tongue inside it. He noticed Herr Horvath would spurt heavier when he did that, giving him more of his manly juice. That also gave him a warm, content feeling inside, knowing that meant he was making Herr Horvath very happy. After playing all he wanted with the head, he finally opened wide to take him inside his young mouth. He did it like Herr Walters had showed him, just a couple centimeters at a time, moving like a snake swallowing its dinner. Open ahhhh, tongue, lips, saliva, open ahhhh, move down, tongue, lips, saliva, and continue until he was smelling Sir’s thick, soft bush. Jürgen loved feeling the hair brush his cheeks, nose, and eyes when he had Herr Horvath fully engulfed, that’s how deep and lush his pubic hair was. It was good that Herr Horvath’s size meant he didn’t get completely rigid and stiff, instead his Schwanz was solid but flexible, which allowed the young man to take it all. He waited there, breathing through his hose and patient, while his throat formed the slimy mucus that would make repeated movements so much easier. It would produce far more than enough. Herr Horvath always used the drooled excess. It was perfect for preparing his tight ass for fucking. He felt the first wave ascend, and he let it escape his lips with a gurgle. “Huuuurrk!” Herr Horvath never stopped what he was saying to Herr Walters while he casually reached down to take the throat slime from his pubic hair, scooping it in his fingers with one hand and reaching for Jürgen’s ass to rub it on his twitching hole, inserting a meaty finger to try to force it inside him. He pushed him further down onto his cock, even though he was already at the base, with his other hand, so he could bend over easily and reach. Jürgen never felt happier than in this moment, smothered on all sides by pieces of Horvath’s furnace heat emitting body, Jürgen’s young chest and head between his legs, face planted to the balls in his crotch, his beautiful schwanz buried all the way down his throat, Herr Horvath’s heavy torso pressing into him from above. He could fall asleep like this, it made him feel so content and safe. “Mmmmmmm” he moaned. His jaw was stretched so wide, but he didn’t care. Herr Horvath sat back again, releasing the kid’s head. Jürgen began slowly pulling off about 14 centimeters, half of the length he had swallowed, to give his throat a rest, breathe a little and begin sliding that monster in and out of his mouth. He sucked for a few strokes at this depth before taking Herr Horvath deep again. “Huuurrrk” again. More throat slime. Herr Horvath repeated his earlier motions, again forcing his cock deeper into Jürgen’s willing throat. After forcing more fluid into the young German’s ass with two fingers, he slapped his ass and leaned back again. Jürgen began to slowly move up and down on Herr Horvath’s cock, humming a nursery rhyme while moving his mouth along the length. He was on his third repetition of the rhyme when he felt Herr Horvath’s member begin to swell. The young man didn’t break his steady, slow rhythm, maintaining the same pace, and he felt the first throb that signaled Herr Horvath was depositing his seed inside him. He held himself still for a moment, tightening his jaw slightly, before descending fully on the American’s meat to take the next few spurts in his throat, then moved off until just the fat head was held in his lips to allow the last few volleys of cum to fill his mouth, stroking the long shaft to pull every drop out. The thick semen tasted so good, and Jürgen imagined he was being infused with some of the magnificent soldier’s masculinity. Herr Horvath hadn’t made a sound or indicated in any way he had shot his sweet manseed in Jürgen’s mouth and throat, not even a tensing of a single muscle or change in breathing. The act of inseminating the youth occurred as naturally and easily as scratching an itch unconsciously. As if that was Jürgen’s purpose. Do you think about the glass you pour your milk in? Do you pause to warn it that it’s going to be filled? Does your body tense up as the runny white fluid splashes into the receptacle? Of course not. That’s where nourishing milk belongs, where it needs to go to be put to use. The boy nursed the slightly softened pole for a half a minute before releasing it from his pouty red lips, which he licked, relishing the taste. He tucked the turgid member back inside Herr Horvath’s sweat pants before moving over between Herr Walters’ legs. The second American spread his legs for him, giving him access. He took a moment to smile up at Herr Walters, who smiled back and tousled Jürgen’s hair. “You’re such a good boy.” Walters praised. Then he nodded at his crotch, taking a draw from his cigar. Jürgen pulled the front of the sweat pants down, just as he had done with Herr Horvath. Walters’ dick was not as long or thick as Horvath’s, but it was still an example of peak, potent impressive size. Herr Walters was circumcised, and leaking. The biggest testicles Jürgen had ever seen hung loose below the hard shaft that rose straight up toward the sky, unlike Herr Horvath’s. Herr Horvath’s cock was so long and heavy it simply leaned like a tree tipped over in a storm, it’s roots straining to maintain a grip on the soil. Having given a glance to the remaining unsmoked length of their cigars, and the last few sips of bourbon in their glasses, Jürgen knew time was limited before they were done out here, so he simply swallowed Walters’ hardness immediately, choosing to play with the American’s balls using his hands. The taste of the man’s precum was intoxicating. Jürgen moaned, loving how the solid tube of flesh left just enough room in his mouth for him to use his tongue, running it up and down and left and right over the tight skin of Herr Walters’ dick. He couldn’t do that with Herr Horvath’s barely manageable size. After having his throat stretched by Herr Horvath, this cock was easier to accommodate, so he happily slurped the entire length from base to head using gentle suction. Herr Walters encouraged him with minute thrusts, his ass clenching and releasing as Jürgen moved up and down on his American gun. Soon, Herr Walters placed a hand on his head, threading his fingers through the German youth’s curls. He grabbed the hair, and directed the boy with assertive pulling and pushing. The G.I. was working up to ejaculate, moving the blonde head between his legs faster, more intently. Herr Walters placed his cigar between his teeth and brought his other hand to Jürgen’s head. He sucked in a large draw of the tobacco smoke and just as he released his cum into the kid’s mouth he exhaled in his face. “Oh, fuck yeah kid. Drink all that juice.” He growled. “Every. Uh! Last. Uh! Drop. Uh! Uh! Mmmmmm.” Which Jürgen happily did, swallowing with every pumping squirt of the thick, delicious seed. As he had done with Herr Horvath, he nursed on the gradually softening dick while the muscle bound soldier came down from his orgasm. “Let’s move this inside.” Herr Horvath announced, taking the last sip of his bourbon. It probably wasn’t warm anymore. When they reached the living room, Sergeant Walters moved up to pull Jürgen into his muscular arms. The kid was taller than him by a couple inches. Their bare chests pressed together as Walters moved his hands over the tight, young firmness of Jürgen’s thin, athletic body. Horvath had moved up behind him to create a G.I. sandwich. The taller hairy American behind him had removed his sweatpants and was humping his thick hardness against the young German’s taut butt. The feel of Horvath’s warm fur against his back drove him to moan, as Walters gave him a deep, sensual kiss. Walters reached down to grab Jürgen’s thighs, lifting him up to straddle his waist, exposing his tight pucker to Horvath’s cock. Horvath applied more saliva to Jürgen’s hole, and even more to his ready pole, and slid his head over the newly spit lubed opening. He felt the kid’s sphincter pulse and flex as he applied ever greater pressure. The kid could take it. It alway made him hiss at first penetration, but he wanted Horvath’s monster inside him so badly it never took long for him to adjust, and this time was no different. “That’s it, boy.” Horvath growled. “I’m going to put this American soldier cock all the way up inside you.” And he made his words good by sliding raw slowly into Jürgen’s stretching asshole. Jürgen moaned into Walters’ mouth. He loved the G.I. sandwich, compressed between two real masculine men who enjoyed his body, one furry, one completely smooth, both with bulging muscles. The minimal lubrication of saliva heightened the frictional effect, creating a mixture of pleasure and pain. The act of being fucked in this standing position enhanced the erotic disparity between their strength and his, their size and his, their manly supremacy against his youth. He locked his ankles behind Walters’ back. Horvath began pistoning his slab of meat in and out of Jürgen’s tight willing hole, fully planting it to the balls and pulling out to the head. The kid was bouncing himself against Walters to increase the action, wanting more. “Ja! Fich mich! Ich liebe deinen großen Schwanz! Tiefer! Härter! Horvath chuckled, increasing the power of his thrusts. “Ja, Junge. Aber Du musst Englisch verwenden. Practice, remember?” Jürgen’s elastic hole gripped Horvath’s Hungarian pole perfectly, doing its own work to stroke his gargantuan shaft. The kid’s hole was amazing, like it was made to take his dick. Depth, circumference, grip, wetness… all of it was a precise fit. “It feel so good I can’t remember words. Fuck my ass, please Sir! I want to feel your sperm inside my ass.” “You want my cum, boy?” Horvath growled, really hammering the kid now, picking up steam that was driving him towards release. “Yes, your cum. That is what I want!” Jürgen gasped. He was holding onto Walters for his life, as he was crushed between the two men. Herr Walters had leaned forward, as if holding a boxing bag against his training partner’s rapid, forceful punches. The boy’s hard cock was smashed against Herr Walters’ solid abs, rubbing along the hard ridges with every one of Horvath’s plunges into his overfilled young hole. He felt that he reached a precipice, and suddenly his cock began to shoot, pouring out his sperm onto Walters’ smooth skin. “Here it comes boy. I’m going to fill you up. Your going to take my big load deep inside your sweet hole.” And Herr Horvath started to grunt, burying his giant exceptional manhood to the hairy balls in the thin young, handsome German. “Ja! I am feeling it, Sir! Oh, I love it! It is so good for you to give me this into my ass. It is so good feeling!” Even as the last drops of cum were beaten out of his own dick crushed against Herr Walters. “Take it all boy!” Horvath heaved again and again as he emptied his nuts with eight or ten long heavy squirts inside the willing and hungry chute gripping his cock so nicely. Jürgen buried his head in Walters’ neck. “Yes! I take it for you. I take all of it, for you.” Horvath reached out and stroked Jürgen’s head as his strokes slowly came to a stop. “Good boy. You are a good boy.” He felt he had gushed a massive load up the kid’s sweet cunt, and was unsurprised to see a large amount follow his dick out through his stretched sphincter, splattering on the hardwood floor beneath them. He reached under to force two meaty fingers knuckle deep in the youth’s warm dripping hole. “Mmmmm.” Jürgen moaned. He pulled his head away and looked at Walters. “You will fuck me now, yes?” “Yes, boy. I will fuck you now.” Walters said with a grin before kissing Jürgen passionately. Horvath pulled Jürgen off Walters, holding him from behind and stepping back to sit on the couch. Jürgen leaned back against the warm furry chest as Herr Horvath pulled his knees up to expose his cum soaked hole. Horvath gripped his wrists together pinning the boy in place securely. Walters lowered himself between Horvath’s knees, positioning his cock against the spasming pucker. Jürgen leaned his head back on Herr Horvath’s shoulder, while Horvath nuzzled his neck. The lingering aroma of cigar coming from Horvath’s skin filled his nose, making his body go limp. Walters slowly pushed his cock inside the kid, meeting no resistance, not after the Hungarian beast had used him and lubricated his entire fuck channel with his hot cum. Walters took his time, letting the young hole massage his cock with every downstroke and upstroke. Where Horvath had been forceful and intense, Walters was gentle and easy. He pistoned in regular, even rhythm, wanting the kid to enjoy a nice slow lazy fuck. Horvath had switched to playing with the blonde youth’s nipples, kissing and licking his neck, driving the boy crazy with sensory overload. Jürgen was completely limp, moaning and mumbling to himself in German. Horvath moved one hand up to put two fingers in Jürgen’s mouth, pulling one leg further up and stretching out his young, athletic body. Walters began stroking deeper, bottoming out then tightening his ass cheeks to get a partial inch more of penetration. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, so he began fucking the kid with more force, the feeling of fucking into Horvath’s load was amazing. “I’m going to blow my load up your ass! Here it comes!” And he gave a growl as he went balls deep when his throbbing cock spewed more cum inside the kid. “Oh fuck yeah! Hot little hole on you, boy. So good.” When he was fully spent, he pulled his cock out of Jürgen’s once again tight hole. By this time, Horvath was ready to go a second time. The Army beast pulled the smaller kid up a little so his cock could find his hole. Jürgen reached down to grab the meat slab and guide it in. Horvath pushed the young blonde down until he was buried. The characteristic he loved most about young Jürgen was his complete pliability. The boy didn’t squirm, or fight, or resist in any way. It didn’t matter which position a cock entered him, whether first fuck or fifth, he simply took it. He would continue to take a fucking as long as Horvath needed him to, as many times as it took, as many loads as Horvath and Walters had to shoot up his beautiful pliant hole. And the kid loved and enjoyed the fifth fuck as much as the first. Horvath had never encountered anyone who accepted multiple, repetitive fucking from his huge cock like Jürgen, except for one prostitute in Vegas when he was 22. But even then it was unsatisfying because he wasn’t going to raw dog a prostitute, and shooting into a condom took away a vital aspect great sex. Fucking and cumming into a rubber accomplished the basic physical need, similar to jacking off. But knowing that your seed was going to be fucked inside another person, and that person wanted your seed inside them elevated the experience to something intensely satisfying. It almost seemed like the kid wanted them to get him pregnant with their virility so it would grow inside him. Honestly, Horvath found that intensely erotic. Jürgen was special, he loved it when the older Americans pumped his ass full of their elixir of masculinity. He got the sense that the kid wasn’t necessarily gay, only enamored of the American soldiers, their size, the confidence and competency with which they carried themselves, their maturity and masculinity. And that excited Horvath too, that Jürgen happily allowed himself to be fucked because it was one way he could be useful to the men he admired. The kid had placed his feet on Horvath’s knees so he could maintain position while Horvath thrust his hips. Horvath gripped the blonde youth’s hips, pulling him up and down on his pole, and Jürgen’s shoulders and head rested against the Sergeant’s hot furry chest. The kid was moaning, still mumbling in German. Walters couldn’t translate it, but Horvath could. How he was being fucked by a real man, so big, the feel of his hairy body, so deep, he loved being taken by Horvath’s beautiful meat, how he needed to take Horvath’s seed and it would make him a man. The fact he wasn’t talking to Horvath, only to himself out loud made it more exciting. The Sergeant was long dicking the kid now, his monster cock pistoning the full eleven plus inches with every stroke. The smack of his hips against Jürgen’s fuzzy cheeks beating out a rhythm that spoke of carnal need. He knew the kid’s hole was being punished, tenderized by his fuck stick. Jürgen had begun repeating “Ja, Ja, Ja.” over and over, and “Gibt es Mir, ja!” Driving him on. The moment came when Horvath felt his balls draw up and he knew he was going to fuck another huge load up the kid’s already sperm filled cunt. He grabbed the boy in a powerful hug and slammed him down on his cunt wrecker, feeling his warm nut propel out his piss slit up inside Jürgen’s desperate guts. And then the kid’s lean muscles went taut, his own cock releasing his boyseed to fly up his smooth hairless chest. They came together, each volley perfectly matched in time. Horvath loved how Jürgen almost always came without touching himself. The kid relaxed fully against Horvath’s chest, dropping his legs to straddle the Sergeant’s thighs. “So geil. Very sexy, is very hot.” The kid breathed in a satisfied sigh. “I must always have your sperm inside me, Sir.” “I’ve told you before, boy, Americans call it cum. To say sperm is too formal for having sex, especially good sex. We say sperm with doctors and in proper situations to remove the sexual part.” Horvath explained. “Yes, I know this. It is difficult to think because of the hot fucking. I must always have your cum inside me, Sir. I like your cum.” The kid repeated with a wiggle of his ass which still gripped the Sergeant’s cock. The scene of Horvath and Jürgen snuggled in post orgasm contentment was endearing. Jürgen still had his head leaned back into the crook of Horvath’s neck, their faces rubbing against each other’s side by side. Horvath was lazily running his hands up and down the kid’s smooth compact chest and abdomen, smearing the boy’s load over his skin. “You’re such a good boy.” He gave Jürgen’s cheek a quick peck. “Go take a shower. You need to get home before your parents worry.” Jürgen shrugged. “They know that I am here with you and Herr Walters. But you are right. I must study. My test will be Monday for my Finanzen Classe. There will be many questions and I must perform well. I will receive the highest mark.” “Yes, you must. Studies are very important. Go on, get cleaned up.” He patted Jürgen’s chest. “Ja, ja. I am doing this, but it is difficult to climb down from this tree.” He joked with a laugh. “GRRRRR, you will get another fucking if you don’t.” Jürgen’s ass gave another wiggle, and squeezed down on the cock still stretching his hole. “Then I must stay. You must have all the fuckings for your hoden to become empty.” With another growl, Horvath flipped the kid face down on the couch in one smooth movement, without his cock leaving the tight warm hole gripping it. He railed the kid one more time, dumping what remained of his seed into the kid’s greedy cumhole. He slowly extracted his cock and sat back, slapping Jürgen’s firm perky butt. Another amazing talent of the kid’s hole was how it rarely let any of their cum leak out. It always irised shut when they withdrew. “Guess I have one more in me, too.” Walters said, climbing on before Jürgen moved. His cock slid inside the supine boy easily, making the youth moan in pleasure. He pumped forcefully for a couple minutes until he spewed a surprisingly thick, heavy full course of his nut deep up the kid’s fuckchute. He pulled out, kissing the kid’s neck tenderly. “Thank you, Jürgen.” Jürgen smiled. He always loved these times with the two Americans. They always made him feel wanted, desired, important. They never fucked him just once, and it never took them long to go again. Even with his limited experience, he knew that was unusual. He got up from the couch, a big smile plastered on his young handsome face. He stretched, extending his arms above his head. He noticed the eyes of the men running over his lean, lanky form. It made him feel attractive. Oh, he knew he was very good looking, but having the appreciation of such well built masculine real men thrilled him and gave him a warm feeling inside. “Thank you, Sirs. I will have all your cum in me while I sleep tonight, and I will sleep very well.” He looked at Horvath for approval. He knew it had to be a large amount, Herr Horvath always produced a large volume of sperm… cum. “Very good, boy. That was perfect English.” Horvath praised. “Sehr gut.”

Buddy, this was an amazing read! Thanks for sharing this with us.

Sleeper’s perfect dumper. Up next: Sgt. Horvath and Sgt. Walters get some R&R

I read this way faster than I wanted to. I was hoping to slowly savor the moments, only to find I couldn’t hold myself back. Oh, the things you do to me buddy. Thanks for keeping this going.

** So one event in the following chapter actually happened. The part about the soldier who got booted. That was what happened to my now husband, and it affected him for 20 years until he reconnected with the guys from his unit on Facebook. All that time he was ashamed, and thought all his brothers thought of him as a dirty faggot that didn’t belong with them, only to find out they all loved him and never stopped thinking of him as a brother. They told him that when they found out what the asshole had done to him, they made his life a living hell until command had no choice but to PCS him elsewhere. Many of them had been on the receiving end of my husband’s back rubs, and they weren’t bothered in the least by the news he was gay. My husband’s confidence soared, and it changed him. That’s the power of brotherhood. At the post cafeteria Sleeper, Zeus and I grabbed some food. Zeus of course getting a few stares, from women and men. He was oblivious. Sleeper got a couple. Me, nothing. Not next to those two. I was lucky if they even recognized there was another soldier with them. We sat down at a table away from anyone else. I just came out and asked, keeping my voice low. “Zeus, are you gay?” The big beast looked at me, his stony face unreadable. Then he looked at Sleeper. Still nothing. “Bro, we don’t care if you are.” Sleeper told him. “You’re cool with us. We just need to know, to protect you.” Zeus looked around, gauging who might be nearby. “Yes. I just think about guys, all the time. I can’t stop. ” He said in that deep voice. “And Sleeper. I think about Sleeper a lot. You guys don’t hate me, do you?” It was funny the way he said it, you couldn’t tell if he was worried, or afraid, or doing his laundry. It sounded like he was describing how he made his bed in the morning. Casual tone, inflection. I knew from my time with Kevin that gay dudes could be masculine, real men rather than effeminate sissies like most people thought. And you could count on Zeus to put it bluntly. Zeus didn’t equivocate. He came right out and spoke his mind. I let Sleeper go first. Knowing Zeus was crushing on him meant Sleeper’s response was way more important to Zeus than mine would be. Besides, I’d already kinda told him I didn’t care last week when we had our first talk. “Bro, it’s cool.” Sleeper began. “We love you.” Zeus’ facade crumbled just a touch. “You gotta keep it cool though. No doing what you did today in my bunk. You know they’ll boot you if it gets around.” I was glad that even without talking about it, Sleeper and I were on the same page. Man, I loved my dude. “And if you do want to touch my ass, or anyone else’s, it’s gotta be a game, like what Troll did. But stay away from Puta. Don’t know how he’d take it.” I continued, “And we have to keep the Bravo Brotherhood out of trouble. El Tee doesn’t want any more bad behavior out of us. Zero. We’ve fucked up too many times.” I explained. “No one should know about this, about you. So don’t go around grabbing the guys. Probably best you don’t do any of that. If someone takes offense, it’ll get bad. I heard about a guy on base who gave out too many back rubs. One of the guys he massaged claimed sexual assault. The guy was gone the same day. His unit came back from class and he was cleared out. When they found out what happened they gave the accuser hell until he was transferred out. It didn’t matter they all liked the guy who’d been booted, or whether it was true. They never even got the chance to stick up for him, he was just gone from a single accusation. We don’t want to lose you like that, buddy.” Zeus gave me a look. “What about Wanker?” “Nah, Wanker has bigger problems, trust me. I can’t betray his confidence, but I’ll tell you as far as he’s concerned you were doing HIM a favor.” I answered. “Wanker doesn’t know or think you’re gay. I didn’t tell him anything.” “Wait, what?” My pale muscle buddy cried out, around a mouthful of hamburger. “What about Wanker?” I looked at Zeus, shrugged. “It’s up to you. But I’d tell him. You can trust Sleeper.” Sleeper looked from Zeus, to me, then back to Zeus. “I had sex with Wanker last Saturday.” Zeus said. Again, just picking up the mail. Starting a car. Brushing his teeth. Same tone of voice. I had to learn that skill. You can’t read someone that spoke like that. Plus, it really throws people off to just blurt things out. Sleeper choked a little on his most recent bite. “Excuse me? I think I need a little more info than that, bro.” I liked that he was calling Zeus his bro, now. “Assmunch told me Wanker had a problem, asked me to get him sorted.” Sleeper explained. Sleeper looked at me. “That was your ‘project’ last Saturday before we -“ he caught himself just in time. “Did you fuck Wanker too? Is that why Zeus was guarding the hallway?” he spat out. “ I can tell if you lie to me. You better not lie to me, asshole.” Sleeper looked angry. Shit, this was getting out of my control. I tilted my head back to look at the ceiling and gather my thoughts. “No, buddy, that’s why I sent Zeus in, I wasn’t gonna do it. Didn’t want to do it. And I kinda figured out Zeus needed a little something himself. I was trying to solve everyone’s problems.” I sighed. “You’re fucking DAMN lucky you didn’t, dude. I’ll beat your ass.” Sleeper growled. The threat was real. I saw it in his eyes. Oh. Fuck me. What was that about? “Before you and Assmunch what, Sleeper?” Zeus asked. I cringed. Zeus just throwing shit out there like people casually talked about butt fucking and ass sucking while eating in a cafeteria. In an Army cafeteria. “Huh? Nothing Zeus.” Sleeper dodged, taking his last bite of his second hamburger. “Sounds like—-“ fuck, don’t say it Zeus, leave it. “Like you and Andrew had sex too.” He finished. Zeus already knew about how I tongue polished Sleeper’s crack, and the handjob I got in return. But this question implied he figured out more had gone down last week. He said it out loud. I loved Zeus, but wished for the days he barely spoke. Right out there. ‘I’m going to brush my teeth’ ‘we need resupply.’ ‘You’re fucking your best friend’. I wanted to die. Why was this my life? Fucking bloody rotten hell. I put my head in my hands, waiting for Sleeper to explode. And nothing. Everything became eerily still. No movement, no words. That couldn’t be good. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, steeling myself for the worst. I looked up. Sleeper was just staring at Zeus. Zeus was staring back like he hadn’t said anything wrong. A long, uncomfortable staring. While I willed myself to die. Dying a coward seemed just perfect right about now. I could be buried and on my way to Hell without dealing with this shit show. A full minute passed. Could I make it to Hell in a minute or less? I so wanted to try. Sleeper looked at me. I know I was all shades of red. Then back at Zeus. This could only go one way, and Sleeper was already pissed off about Operation Rebuild Wanker’s Ruined Dirty Donut. Sleeper’s face was blank, unreadable. He was barely breathing. Then my best friend seemed to reach a decision, he finally blinked, picking up a couple French fries from his plate. “Yep”. Was all he said, dipping his fries in ketchup before shoving them in his mouth. “Fuck, Sleeper! Dude!!” I said. “What? It’s Zeus. He’s gay, he gets it. Right bro?” Sleeper shrugged at Zeus, who was grinning. I guess he had a point. And then fuckin’ puppy dog pajamas Zeus appeared. “Are you guys gay too? Did you ask me if I was gay because you want to have sex? I want to have sex with you, especially Sleeper. Putting it in Wanker was okay, but I really like you guys. It would be more fun with you. I like sex now. I never had sex before I put my penis in Wanker, but it was really fun, just like you said, Assmunch. I want to put my penis in you and Sleeper. Can I?” Goddamn. Goddammit ALL to hell. I’m not sure how much more of this blunt open Zeus I could take. I mean, I was happy he was out of his shell with us, but I wondered if the Zeus we all knew was simply the persona he hid behind to cover up being gay, not letting any emotion out, not hanging out for long periods of time, keeping to himself. I felt a little sad that Zeus couldn’t be himself. Fuck this stupid military policy against gays. If guys like Zeus couldn’t serve without crushing their souls, it was fucking bullshit. None of us knew that it would only be a year before Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell became the rule. It still meant keeping quiet about it, but the military wasn’t going to hunt you down like it was now. But I knew one thing: puppy dog pajamas Zeus was one happy puppy, and he had to keep that cute puppy locked up all the time, deep inside. That’s some fucking sad pathetic shit, right there. Sleeper and I looked at each other. I didn’t know what to say. “Let me and Assmunch talk about it, okay Zeus? We’re not gay. We just like doing some stuff to get off. Is that cool?” Sleeper asked. WHAT THE FUCK WAS HAPPENING?? “REALLY, Sleeper?” I asked incredulously, taken by complete surprise, and not necessarily pleasantly either. He was okay with this? Sleeper gave me the exact same look as before. “What? It’s ZEUS.” He said again, this time stressing Zeus’ name. Sleeper’s handsome face said ‘who wouldn’t?’ “Yeah, yeah. I get it.“ I said, throwing my head back in my hands. He wasn’t wrong. But this was going to complicate everything. I guess Sleeper was far more sexually fluid than I thought. It shouldn’t surprise me though, one lick of his asshole and he was suddenly all about fucking around and getting off. I wondered if my best friend was holding back on me. I always assumed he was straight. Maybe I was wrong about that. I felt better about stuffing him full of my dick and shooting my load up his ass last week. Maybe I WOULD fuck him again. Just to see if he’d love it as much as getting his fudge dispenser scrubbed out by my tongue. Sleeper was just full of surprises. And my dick attack up his newly christened virgin fuck chute last week didn’t really qualify as a fucking. Nowhere near a Kevin style plundering of every tender rectal tissue I owned, bruised, stretched and slathered with multiple loads of dicksoup, until I literally couldn’t speak. Yeah, I was definitely going to auger out his pretty little dickwarmer until he drooled in senseless ecstasy. “Okay.” Zeus said. “I really do want to have sex with you guys.” Big beautiful handsome dangerous smile. Sigh. So blunt. “Let’s finish eating and get back. I need to talk to the Bravo Brotherhood . And what do you think about asking some of the Charlies to come to our party tonight?” ************************* I gathered the Brothers and let them know Sarge and the Lt were on the warpath after our training excursion and we needed to keep the party low key. We even invited Lamont and a couple of his buddies from the Charlies to party with us, and they fit in well. The highlight of the evening was making Troll ass-chug a beer. Getting the tube inserted into his hairy shitter was half the battle because he wouldn’t relax. We were all laughing so hard at how he squirmed and fought, as if it was the worst thing in the world, whining like a little bitch. I let the fight go on until it seemed everyone had a turn manhandling Troll’s ass before I stepped in, massaged his little tender spot between his tailbone and asshole and the tube slipped right in. One of the tricks in the asshole whisperer trade. Shhhhhh. Keep it to yourself. By that point everyone had lubed his entire crease with enough spit to drown a whore. I was sure they all got a kick out of spitting on the poor guy. Getting him to suck the beer down his hole turned out to be the other half of the battle. A couple of the guys who’d done it before were trying to give him pointers while he knelt on knees and elbows, his shorts bunched up just below his cheeks so no one had to look at his nuts. ‘Just relax, man.’ And ‘suck your stomach in.’ Even the unhelpful but amusing ‘spread your legs more, you uptight cunt.’ He finally finished his beer (took 20 minutes, chug fail) and we all congratulated him on a job well done. We wound things up around 23:30. We could have kept going, but I reminded everyone that we had to be good. Fortunately there wasn’t a lot of grumbling, everyone was worn out having not gotten a lot of sleep the night before. Sleeper and I did cleanup, releasing Troll from bitch duty. I knew that beer had to be sloshing around in his hole still. The alcohol might get absorbed, but the liquid wouldn’t go anywhere until he shit it out. He had to go get friendly with the toilet and shower. Everyone else crashed out. Sleeper and I wanted everyone in deep slumber so we could do our thing. Zeus helped, and Sleeper and I kept exchanging questioning looks during it all. We knew why Zeus was hanging around. “Zeus, why don’t you get the garbage to the dumpsters.” I requested. The giant muscle bound brute gazed at us refusing to move. “Don’t worry, bro. We’ll be here when you get back.” Sleeper soothed him. When Zeus was gone, I turned to Sleeper. “Well? I know you’re thinking about it. Are you sure about this? You know what he wants.” Sleeper pursed his lips, and put his hands on his muscled hips. Every piece of him had muscles. Rotten handsome prick. At some point during the party he’d stripped down to just bikini briefs which didn’t do a whole bunch to cover his big meaty white butt or his burgeoned junk mound. His crack was well exposed at the top, and a good portion of each globe was bared below. It reminded me of the Australian lifeguards with their tiny swimsuits and the back pulled up inside their crack so they wouldn’t chafe their cheeks. It was a good thing Sleeper shaved his bush, because the tiny briefs rode down low from the weight of his cock and balls, causing the thick root of his cock to just peek out. Sleeper loved being naked, and if he couldn’t be naked he wanted to be almost naked. And he never cared who saw. Those underwear were intended to leave as little to the imagination as he could get away with, the fabric so worn and thin I suspected he’d owned them for years. They weren’t tight like a new pair, he’d stretched the elastic so much with his size that it finally just gave up trying to hold back all that hot meat. The spot where his cockhead rested had a fingertip sized hole, the pouch almost transparent. Yeah, those things were on their last leg and Sleeper would probably wear em right up until they collapsed off him, giving out like a tortured prisoner on a medieval rack. Like I said before, he was a confident, arrogant prick. Those underwear dared the guys to make fun of him, were designed to draw attention, barely hold or cover his pussy juicer and boulder sized dumper, encourage sexual thoughts and just generally be a tease. It would have been less sexual and erotic if he were completely naked. Every time he walked risked them slipping off, and far too often one side or the other would sag down his hip where he’d let it remain until a casual tug set it back in place, half an ass cheek smiling out at everyone. That cloth defied physics. And the asshole knew I couldn’t keep my eyes away from the struggle. Which I was caught up in for the hundredth time tonight as my eyes refused to glance away from his strained pouch. “I’m up for it. It should be fun. Are you going to get jealous?” He replied. It was nice of him to think of me, but this was all for him. “You mean like you were when you thought I’d fucked Wanker? Bro, I’m not the jealous type. If you’re having fun, I’m having fun. That’s how this works for me. If you don’t like it, I’m not into it.” I explained. That threw him a little. “I don’t know what that was, bro. I just got angry when I thought you’d fucked him. I guess I didn’t like that what we do might not be special to you. This is all new to me.” Gone was the arrogance, and in its place was a sweet vulnerability. Deep down, Sleeper had the same doubts and uncertainty I had. “It’s new to me too, buddy. And you make it special.” I assured him. I’d never been the top. I’d never eaten a guy’s ass. Kevin fucked the living shit out of me, almost every day. We started just including Carol all the time because he rammed me so brutally, so many times, I’d be too worn out to perform for Carol unless she and I had sex first. And we learned that watching Carol and I play our games first really got Kevin torqued up. I would invariably end up eating my load out of Carol’s asshole or devouring her pussy while Kevin did his best to ruin and wreck my hole with his doorknob thick jizz missile. He’d often milk my nut out of the condom I fucked her pussy with, pouring it over her tits so he could lick it up and eat it while plowing me. It got to the point there was no boyfriend/girlfriend/boyfriend distinction. Anything was fair game. Carol ate Kevin’s ass, sucked and licked his dick clean after he got done with me. We’d all kiss sensually whenever, wherever it grabbed us. We double fucked Carol, which drove her so insane I felt like a fucking King, and I finally realized how filthy and slutty I looked and sounded when Kevin ripped me apart. The only thing that never happened was me having anything to do with Kevin’s ass. And somehow the forbidden nature of leaving the gay dude’s ass untouched while the straight one got violated unforgivably heightened the pleasure of it all. I’ve come to hate labels and putting relationships in neat little boxes, but in that situation, at that time, the labels made it all so exciting, like we were breaking all the rules. And it wasn’t always like that. Frequently it was slow, passionate, full of love where I disappeared, lost in the tenderness of Kevin’s soul. I would come back to myself locked in his sleeping arms feeling more alive than the time before. Every moment with him was better than the one before. In spite of all that, I didn’t feel like I was gay. This wasn’t about gay or straight. It was about souls and hearts connecting. And God bless Carol for understanding that. Kevin using my hole was no different in my head than him borrowing a shirt to wear to school. I’d told Sleeper about Carol, of course. And a few things about Kevin. Up until now, it felt disrespectful to my memory of him to say anything more, and I truly didn’t want to relive it all. Besides, Kevin belonged to Tom. And Tom was sealed behind a brick wall in my head. But it seemed like Sleeper and I might reach a point where I could tell him about it, but only if my heart let me. Man, I was really fucked up about Kevin. And fucked up about how I had to kill a huge part of myself so I could go live my life. I guess both Zeus and I had the same sad, pathetic shit going on, burying the happy part of us just to get through accepting we were men who had to do whatever it took to move along. Zeus returned, glad to see us still waiting for him. His cock tented the front of his Army sweats. “Someone’s excited.” Sleeper chuckled. Zeus’s massive frame walked right up to Sleeper and grabbed him by the head, then laid a tongue lashing on his mouth. Zeus looked like he was trying to swallow Sleeper whole. Sleeper gripped Zeus’s arms, then put his hands on the giant’s bulging pecs. Sleeper managed to pull away a bit, Zeus was breathing heavy and hungrily staring at my buddy. “I don’t know about kissing, bro…” Sleeper got out, just barely before Zeus’s mouth crashed back down onto his. He crushed himself onto Sleeper’s body, snaking his arm over Sleeper’s shoulder to grab his back, his other hand thrusting down to cover Sleepers ass, molesting that beautiful globe of scantily clad muscle. He broke off Sleeper’s mouth, and tongued his way down his chin to his neck, licking, biting, sucking every inch of flesh he could find. The man was hungry. “Oh fuck….” Sleeper moaned. “Wait…Zeus, wait. We gotta stop. Not here.” Zeus pulled away, grabbed Sleeper by the hips and just threw him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. Sleeper had no time to fight back. Zeus took him to the hall towards the storage room. Sleeper looked at me from his upside down position, throwing his hands up in a ‘what am I gonna do?’ gesture. His poor tortured briefs had slipped down to expose his ass, which had Zeus’s big paws grasping both cheeks, his fingers digging into Sleeper’s crack as he carried my buddy like a war trophy. I gave Sleeper a look that said ‘see what you’ve done?’ And followed. Once behind the closed storage room door, Zeus set Sleeper down on the same crates where I’d finger-blasted Wanker the week before. Before he could attack Sleeper again, I stopped him. “Okay, bro, let’s slow down here. Neither one of us has been with many dudes, and I’m guessing you haven’t either, right?” I asked him. “Just Wanker, Assmunch. Last week like you told me.” He answered. I put my hands on my hips. “Okay, let’s start slow then. We don’t know a lot about the gay thing, but we’ll try to walk you through how sex usually goes. What do you like about Sleeper?” Zeus smiled. This time it wasn’t a puppy smile, he looked like the impressive alpha dog that he was. “He’s almost as tall as me, big muscles like me. I like how he gets a five o’clock shadow that’s dark, like a man. I love his dark eyes, and his really white skin. I love the way his veins show on top of his muscles. He has a beautiful behind. I like how he’s nice to everyone even though he could be mean if he wanted, and some guys deserve it. Sleeper is good. I like him with hair better though.” “Amen, brother.” Sleeper mumbled. “So you think Sleeper is your type? You like other guys that look like him?” Zeus shrugged. “Not always. There was a guy in my school that was small and no muscles, but he was really smart and was always nice to me and every one else even though he got picked on a lot. He was good too.” “Did you ever tell him you liked him?” I asked, just to satisfy my own curiosity. Zeus shook his head. “I was scared he wouldn’t like me if he knew.” I took a moment to think. They both waited, knowing I was figuring things out and trusted me to know the right way through this. Carol and Kevin had both told me I had a way of bringing out in them who they truly were, made them feel seen, safe, and perfect just the way they wanted to be. Carol called it my gift. I knew I had to somehow do that for Zeus. Trouble was, I didn’t know if he was truly Alpha Dog Zeus, the God we worshipped, puppy dog pajamas Zeus who was exuberant and innocent, some mix of the two, or something even greater. I suspected it was the latter, something greater. That’s what my intuition told me. Zeus had greatness written all over him. Maybe his innocence was just a leftover from his obvious protected childhood, the dude didn’t even cuss. Zeus had spent his life growing up fearing who he was, hiding it behind a tough, capable exterior of effortless peak masculinity. But that meant locking away a vital part of who he was. He wasn’t whole. “Zeus, you know just because you’re gay it doesn’t mean you aren’t a good person, right?” The giant didn’t respond. His eyes had left Sleeper’s body, and now looked down at his feet. “You can be gay and good, brother. Who you want to love, or have sex with doesn’t have anything to do with what kind of guy you are.” “I’m not supposed to be gay.” His voice was so small, so pitiful, it didn’t even sound like him. Sleeper ducked his head to look under at Zeus’s face. He hopped off the crates and pulled Zeus into a deep hug. “Bro, you don’t have to cry. It’s okay, man. Being gay is cool, lots of people are gay. It’s just like everybody else, some are good, some are bad. But being gay has nothing to do with it. They’re just people.” Sleeper was a deeply good guy, and while I already had the most incredible respect for him, his treatment and acceptance of Zeus in this vulnerable moment showed me another beautiful piece of him I hadn’t seen before. He could have maintained his usual tough guy, in control, men don’t get emotional behavior, but letting that go to give comfort to a brother in need was no effort at all for him either. He was just as comfortable showing tenderness and emotion when necessary. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised by that, because he never showed that part of himself to me. Maybe because he figured I didn’t need him to. Or because I never let him. “And fuck that ‘not supposed to be gay’ bullshit. You’re amazing, we all think so, and I think you being gay is a big part of why you’re so amazing.” I threw in. Zeus was resting his cheek on Sleepers head while he held him. “You really think so?” “Yep, my best friend in high school was gay. He was the best person I’ve ever met. He might have been even more awesome than you. You’d like him. He’s a good person too, just like you.” I said. I didn’t know that was going to come out of my mouth. “Did you have sex with him like you do Sleeper?” Fuck Zeus! There’s that no filter mouth again. God, I have never felt like I needed to just die as much as when Zeus opened his mouth. I saw Sleeper lift an eyebrow and smirk. Just like Kevin. And that’s probably why I did what I’d told myself wasn’t ever going to do. I decided to lay it out there, fully honest. Sleeper deserved to know, and Zeus needed to hear it. “Yeah, we had lots of sex. LOTS of sex, which was awesome and beautiful, and more than I ever expected or knew could be possible. We were already really close, it just made it better. I didn’t intend to have sex with Kevin, but once it happened I knew it was right.” Zeus raised his head up. “But you had a girlfriend. I heard you tell Sleeper.” “So that’s why you eat my ass like it’s going through a fucking car wash.” Sleeper said. “Yeah, my girlfriend joined in, which made it even more fun. And for your information, buddy, it was Carol eating MY ass that taught me everything I know.” “Wow!” Zeus said, wide eyed. “Do you think I’m a good person Zeus?” I asked. He reached out with his huge arm and pulled me into a hug with the two of them. “You are a REALLY good guy, Andrew.” I hugged back. I was by no means a small guy, but smashed into these two slabs of all American beef, I felt wimpy and scrawny. And both of them put out the heat of a bonfire. “And I’ve had lots of gay sex. And a lot of straight sex with Carol and Kevin. A lot of sex, period. And I liked it. Who you love isn’t always up to you Zeus, and it certainly isn’t up to anyone else. Neither is who you’re attracted to. Your heart always tells you what you need. Be gay. Love who you are. The good people will always want you to be who you need to be. You should let yourself be who you need to be, too. Don’t wait for people to be good to you, buddy. You need to be good to yourself, first.” “I love you guys. Thank you.” Zeus said. “I love you brother.” Sleeper said. “I love you, my brothers.” I followed. I felt a weight leave me then. Helping Zeus freed me somehow. Maybe not all the way, but enough to tell me that maybe shoving Tom and Kevin in a buried box wasn’t the right way to get through my pain and hurt. “I think we should have sex now.” Zeus’s deep voice caused my body to vibrate, pressed up against him in that hug. And there was enough command tone in his rumbling words that my dick immediately plumped up like a grilled sausage, complete with leaking juices. Fuck. I was in serious trouble if Zeus brought Tom out to play. ‘Man, Zeus.’ I thought to myself. ‘We have to get you a filter!’ But then I told myself to fuck off with that bullshit. That was Zeus. He spoke his mind. I decided to take a page out of Carol’s book. “Sleeper, drop that rag you call underwear, and hop back up. We need to take this beautiful man to school and show him how to please a real man.” I instructed. Sleeper frowned, but like he’d practiced the move a thousand times, he wiggled his hips and dropped his panties like a good slut, not even using his hands. “Hey, they’re my favorite pair, they fit just right.” As I suspected, they collapsed off of his perfect anatomy with little more than a wish. Sleeper got into position and leaned back on his hands, just pleased as punch he was going to get worked over by two guys. His meaty thick legs were spread and hung relaxed, flaring out even more by being pressed against the crate. “Now, pleasing a man, or a woman for that matter, is all about showing how much you appreciate their body. Sleeper here loves attention, but he’s not any different than anyone else. Go ahead and feel those muscles you love on him.” I directed Zeus. “And don’t rush it. Taking your time and enjoying your favorite parts purely because you love the feel of him is a turn on.” The gentle gorilla slowly ran his hands up Sleeper’s pale thighs, kneading and rubbing the defined hunks of muscle. The high school wrestling champ flexed and hardened his quads with every firm massage of Zeus’s oversized paws. He watched Zeus’s mesmerized face with a grin. I saw Sleeper’s cock begin inflation, his hanging nuts rolling around in his loose shaved sack like reptile eggs about to spit out baby sea turtles. “Don’t touch his dick. Leave it for later. That’s what a man wants the most, for you to take care of his dick. Some guys don’t care about their dicks at all, they want you to get in their ass. Either way, the longer you can hold off touching his cock or his asshole, the better it will feel for him when you finally do. Making him wait until you’ve had your fun everywhere else will drive him crazy. Figure out what it is he wants from you, then tease him with taking your time getting around to it.” I lectured. Zeus ran his mitts up to Sleeper’s tight waist, over his solid abdomen. Sleeper had his head thrown back, enjoying the erotic massage. His toes were curled, I noticed, then spread out straight, then curled again, like he was trying to make a fist with his foot. “Rub the pubic area right above his dick. Curl your hand around his crotch without grabbing the shaft. See how his body is telling you how much he’s loving this?” Zeus breathed out. “He’s so warm.” I watched as Sleeper’s legs spread even more as our battle buddy dug into his groin. My dude was almost fully hard at this point, his engorged baby maker thicker at the base, and curved slightly towards the left. I moved to stand next to Zeus. I took his other hand, and guided it up Sleeper’s hard torso, stopping briefly to let him grope those heavy pecs. Then I moved his hand to Addison’s armpit, and he pulled his arm up to his head, flexing unconsciously. “There’s no hair.” Zeus said in wonder. “He’s so smooth.” Letting his fingers caress the dips and valleys of Sleepers sweat machine. “Reach down and pull on his nuts. Play with them. Roll them around in your hand. Gentle at first, then gradually stretch them out.” Sleeper moaned. “Oh, fuck yeah. Yank on those jizz tankers, bro.” He pulled his legs up to rest his heels on the edge of the crate. “You see that? He’s spreading himself for you.” I kept my voice soft, sultry. “When a guy does that, he’s giving you permission to go further. He wants you to feel everything he’s got down there. He’s exposing his most vulnerable place, putting his trust in you to make him feel good. That’s the sign he needs you to visit his ass. Go ahead and run your hand under his balls. Be firm, put your entire hand and palm on that lump between his asshole and his nuts. That feels really good to a guy. That meat right there sends signals to both his dick and his asshole, and he can’t decide which one of those he wants you to have more. Slowly stroke him up and down, gradually moving a finger or two towards his hole. If you do this right, he’ll be putty in your hands.” Which Sleeper proved by leaning back even more and allowing his knees to fall to either side. “Oh man, your hand feels so good. Keep doing that.” “Pull him back up, don’t let him lean back. Keep going with that hand. Look him in his beautiful eyes and ask him if he likes it. Make him tell you how it feels. Make him say it out loud. He needs to hear himself surrender to you. It doesn’t matter if he looks uncomfortable. The more he’s willing to bear, the more he’s telling you he’s accepted you can do anything you want to him.” Zeus grabbed Sleeper by the back of the neck and pulled him forward until his handsome pleasure filled face was just inches away. “Do you like that, sexy man? Do you like my hand between your legs?” Zeus improvised. Sleeper nodded. “I love it, your hand is so big. And your finger is making my hole twitch.” He was pushing down with his hips, trying to get Zeus to use more force. I raised myself up to whisper in Zeus’s ear, I didn’t want Sleeper to hear this part. “Try to force a finger inside him, and kiss him at the same time.” Zeus wasted no time. I heard my buddy give a loud grunt just before Zeus forced his mouth onto Sleeper’s, shoving his tongue inside him. I let this massive beast enjoy himself on my best friend fully for a minute, as he raped the helpless wrestler from both ends happily. Then he came up for air. “Jesus! No spit, or lube or anything! Guuuunnnnnhhhh!” Sleeper groaned. Looks like Sleeper wasn’t all that worried about kissing anymore. “Ignore him. If he didn’t want it, he’d have found a way to pull off.” I observed dryly. “You’re such a fucker, Assmunch.” I noticed his hips hadn’t stopped writhing, in spite of his complaints. “That’s right, buddy. And you’re about to find out how much of a fucker I really am. Move aside, Zeus. My turn.” When Sleeper’s legs were clear, I folded him up to present the little pretty hole I now owned for my enjoyment. Pinning his knees back alongside his chest, I dove right into his pucker with my tongue. “FFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKK, yeah eat it. Damn I love it when you do that.” Sleeper moaned for me. “Taste that meat, fuck yeah. Oh shit, chew on it just like that! Harder!” I felt his hands grab my newly shaved head, pulling me into his crevice, wiggling his hips. I guess he thought the rules didn’t apply since Zeus was here. I smacked his asscheek with about half the force I was capable of, knowing it was still going to hurt like hell. Sleeper yelped. “Sorry! Sorry bro, I couldn’t help it!” I had my hand cocked for another smack. He sounded sincere. He whined. Addison fucking Montelongo, State Wrestling Champ, Soldier extraordinaire, Army Ranger School wannabe, son of some distant Spanish Ancestral nobility, whined because he wasn’t pleasing me. Yeah, Carol taught me a LOT. And I knew from personal experience being in that position could make you cum like you saw Jesus. Which was my goal for him every time we had our fun. I didn’t believe in boring sex. Not anymore. I looked up at him. “Don’t let it happen again.” I growled. You had to let them know they weren’t the ones in control. That they got what you gave them, and no more. Or more than what they deserved, because you wanted to do it, no other reason. Give just an inch and the dynamic changed, things got sloppy, the terms of the transaction became unsatisfactory. Which meant poor Sleeper wasn’t going to get his shitter car-washed like he wanted. I stood up, my shorts already down, and pushed my fuck stick up against his spit glistened hole. “Wait, bro…” he pleaded. I kept pushing, a steady pressure. His poor little turd cutter was going to give out eventually. In the war between tender butthole and my steel hard 8 inch dripping cock, my cock was going to win. “What?” I said, putting enough boredom into my voice to get the message across that this was happening. I applied more pressure. His legs were still pulled back and open. He wasn’t trying to end this. All the subtle signs were there that he wanted exactly what I was going to give him. See, Sleeper didn’t actually WANT his ass fucked. What he wanted more than anything was to just take a break from being the golden boy, the one everyone looked up to and feared, the parental expectation to be the very best at everything. The weight on his shoulders was heavy. He couldn’t relax his guard out there, but once I showed him all that pressure went away when he gave up all that control to me, it became an addiction. If his hole getting fucked was part of the deal, he’d give up his ass willingly. He didn’t have to be the tough guy wrestling champ, in fact I demanded he wasn’t. If that took a little punishment to put him back in his place every now and then… well sometimes I think he broke the rules on purpose. And the next time I wasn’t holding back. I owed it to him to give him my best. He still hadn’t answered. “So, no ‘wait’, bro?” I taunted him. I looked him right in the eye while I let a thick ribbon of spit fall right on his cock knuckled sphincter. I shoved more. He still wasn’t unclenching. “Ohhhhhhhh, God…. Please don’t bust my shitter, bro. Please….” “Then you better relax. You will lose this fight and it will tear you up. All you have to do is surrender, buddy. You just have to let go. I’m actually being nice about it. I could just rip right into you like last time. But I’m giving you the chance to do this yourself.” This was the moment. The moment he had to accept that his complete surrender was what he wanted. That it didn’t matter that it came at the expense of what he thought was his manhood. He’d learn that he was no less a man for having a dick up his ass. That it might actually increase his sense of being a man. That it didn’t mean he wasn’t straight anymore. And who knows, he may have loved the feeling of being violated like a cheap whore and treated like a cumrag TWICE last weekend. I had no way of pinpointing that as anything but a possibility. After all, this was just the second time my dick would be in his ass. And this time was different, I wasn’t forcing myself into him at a weak moment. No, this time it had to be him doing it to himself fully aware. And he let his breath go. As soon as he did, my head began entering his ring. “AAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhh, it hurts! Don’t push! Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiittttttttt!” I wasn’t. This was all him. He took a few rapid breaths. I let more spit trail from my lips to his hole. After a half minute, I sunk in a couple inches. He stopped me again. Then he reached down to grab his ass cheeks, those beautiful haunches, and pulled them apart to open himself up more for me. I sunk my pole all the way in, balls deep. The deep moan he gave was half pain, half relief at his own need. “So deep. It’s so big.” He groaned. The heat of his tunnel cooked my meat perfectly, and I could feel the fluids seeping from my piss slit. His muscles spasmed continuously, and it felt like he was jacking off my thick cock with his incredibly tight hole. I rocked side to side, still buried to the root, knowing my hardness was punching his rectal walls. Man, he felt amazing. I took a slow half thrust. Sleeper’s leaking cock bounced. “Hey Zeus, you want to suck his dick?” I asked. Zeus darted over. I could see a large wet spot on the front of his Army sweats. Sleeper’s hard cock was almost as long as mine, just shaped different. The big man bent down and tried to take my buddy’s dick in one swallow. Instead, Zeus gagged halfway down. “Cover your teeth with your lips, buddy. And open your throat. Then use your tongue when he’s in your mouth.” I kept up a slow, steady rhythm of fucking, using only half my dick, and not bottoming out completely. I changed the angle of my stroke, to get that upward direction that would push up into his prostate. “Oh shit! What are you doing? It’s going straight to my dick.” Sleeper announced. He removed one hand to put it on Zeus’s head, forcing him down further onto his cock. Zeus was a champ, opening up to let more of that juice root invade his face. I allowed this much, enjoying how my straight buddy was getting lost in the pleasure he was feeling. I knew that the time had come to rail him without mercy. I began pistoning into his shitcave, my nuts bounced off the bottom of his ass. I was getting close, but I wanted Sleeper to fill our God’s throat with his grunt spunk. I was going to fuck it out of him. The slick walls of his dickchute gripped my shaft with every powerful thrust. I sped up, hammering him. He was bouncing so much Zeus didn’t have to move. I was fucking Sleeper’s hard curved cock into his mouth. “I’m gonna cum, bro. I’m gonna lose it.” Sleeper panted. “Oh fuck, don’t stop.” I grabbed Zeus’s head to keep him from pulling off and bucked up into my buddy like he was a twenty dollar whore. My own orgasm fired up my throbbing shaft and shot out into Sleeper’s guts. I didn’t announce it or change my motion. The sound of Sleeper’s grunting whine told me he was spewing his own creamy essence over Zeus’s tongue. Zeus let out a unintelligible question around the veiny meat penetrating his lips. “Swallow it, Zeus. Sleeper made that for you as a gift.” I told him, still holding his head in place. “It’s a part of him he wants you to have inside you. Show him how thankful you are.” I kept up my thrusts, slower and gentle now as my balls expelled the last of my swimmers, the lazy ones, into my friend. I pulled my dick out slowly. “Your turn Zeus. Show Sleeper how much you love him.” I directed. Sleeper looked at me with a worried face. “Relax, buddy, this won’t change anything. We’re doing this for Zeus.” I assured him. Zeus stood up and pulled his sweats down to free his leaking monster. Like everything about him, his manmeat was larger than life. It had to have been an inch or two longer than me, and just as thick. He was uncircumcised, and even hard his foreskin drooped from the head like a monks cowl. “Push his knees down to get him spread like you want him, butterfly his ass, fold him out like a book. Don’t worry, he can take it. You’re fucking a real man there, he’s used to a little pain.” I urged him. A wad of my nut had escaped the vault of Sleeper’s ruined hole, which was still pulsating from the fuck I’d given him. My DNA sauce decorated his swollen opening like milk on a frosted flake. I fought the urge to slurp it off his hole. Zeus’s veiny snake would need every source of lubricant for the invasion. My buddy lay there spent and surrendered, resolved to his role as a milking sleeve for our manly needs. I could see the absolute capitulation in the relaxation of every muscle he carried. He now realized the overwhelming ecstasy he’d experienced last week, and the previous times I’d masticated him to orgasm weren’t accidental. His ass was the source of heightened pleasure. He could no longer deny the soul wrenching force of ejaculating while a cock stretched him out from the inside. I knew that feeling well. Zeus pushed his butthole digging worm through Sleeper’s now adjusted outer ring. They both let out a sensual moan. My buddy’s ample cock started to power up once again. He was in the right head space for Zeus to fuck another load out of him, if Zeus could hold on long enough to get him there. “Jesus, why does it feel so good?” Sleeper asked. Zeus began plunging in and out of him, lost in his own world of pleasure. He ran his hands over Sleeper’s beautiful body. He long-dicked the hole beneath him, taking full strokes to share every inch. I noticed that Sleeper’s pucker would seal over Zeus’s foreskin on the pullout, keeping it from exiting and stretching it out. Damn that was sexy as hell. Zeus’s rhythm increased, until he was full on rutting that wrestler rump like a rabid animal. He forced his tongue into Sleeper’s mouth, completely smothering my buddy’s lips. Sleeper was grunting with every thrust back into Zeus’s mouth, and I could tell when the friction and pounding made him empty his balls. Zeus didn’t stop, he probably didn’t even notice that he made Sleeper cum. He was grunting now himself, stabbing his sizeable prick deep into Sleeper’s fuck chute with every hard thrust while Sleeper took the violent pounding without complaint. The notes of Zeus’s grunting ascended, getting higher, and I could tell he was ready to blow his wad. With a final shuddering explosion, his entire giant body seized as he delivered the creamy payload deep inside Sleeper’s secret private bunker. “FUDGE!” Zeus exhaled into Sleeper’s mouth. He quickly followed with another grunt as more streams of dick juice spurted out into his crush. And again. Each time accompanied by another violent plunge. “I can’t stop, it’s not stopping!” He groaned, continuing to fire volley after volley from his meat cannon. I can’t imagine how much seed was pouring into my buddy’s wrecked hole. Then he slowed, taking a few lazy strokes. And then he whined like a helo spinning up it’s rotors and plunged in again. “Oh fudge, oh shoot! It’s happening again!” More animal grunts into Sleeper’s waiting mouth as one more time he was taken by the aggressive pumping of his seed spitter. It was probably the greatest male orgasm I’d ever had the privilege to witness. For power, for length, for passion, for uncontrolled physical release, for the sheer expression of masculine togetherness that was Sleeper passively accepting everything Zeus had to give, and Zeus pouring everything he had into the man he loved. It was fucking beautiful.

After I shoot in a bottom, I love the thought of my cum up inside him. I worked hard to make that load, just for him. And I feel like he did something special for me by taking it. I have never liked wasting my cum. If a bottom doesn’t want to keep my load inside them, I feel unappreciated. Yeah, I’ve ‘used’ bottoms to just get off, pump and dumps, sex clubs, adult bookstores, etc, but I always left thinking about my cum swimming around in their ass for sometimes days after. To this day I still have my top ten bottoms I’ve fucked in my head, thinking about how awesome it was that they took my seed. One college kid, asked me immediately after I came if I could cum inside him again, and the sweet way he asked revved my dick back up and I was able to keep fucking him and gave him another one 10 minutes later. Then there was the four bottoms laid out for me at a sex party who fought over who was going to get my fifth load. I’d already put one load in each of them. Damn, that one was tough to crank out, but I did it for them. Or the little Latin dude just 5’4” and tiny who kissed me sweetly after I pinned him to the booth in the bookstore and fucked him full. The look in his eyes was full of love. man, I love fucking guys who love getting fucked.

ASSMUNCH *********************** The truth was, I wasn’t jonesing to fuck Sleeper, even if he had the most perfect dumper I’d ever seen. Yeah, it was fun tongue raping him, he tasted great, and his pale skin heightened the allure. The turn on for me was how responsive and receptive he was when my face was buried in his shitcave. Hearing him moan. Seeing him grab his glutes to pull them apart to get me deeper. Watching him spread his legs like a party slut. He was such a tough, masculine, overly confident grunt that his willingness to have his private, secret tunnel invaded and filled with my saliva became erotic. He truly WANTED me up there, needed it so bad it made me hard and dripping. Getting him to beg for it flipped my dick switch. But before tonight I had no desire to bury my bone in his doghouse. Fucking dudes just wasn’t a sexual goal. I mean, of course I COULD. But that wasn’t anything I was after. But I was also not in the habit of fooling myself. It felt good, real good, to force my thick cock up his shitter, knowing no one else had opportunity or liberty to plunder him. So what if I tricked him? I knew my best friend intimately, knew that deep down he had accepted that his smooth pretty butthole became mine from the first moment he felt my mouth muscles manipulate his chute. I saw it in the way he took frequent opportunity to press his ass against me when he passed in a doorway. “Sorry bro, coming through”. How instead of kneeling down to grab something off the floor, his rack, a chair, that when I was within ten feet of him he moved to point his rear towards me to bend over casually. No, he didn’t do it like a stripper, it would have been out of character for Sleeper to make a display of it. Sleeper didn’t display, he didn’t preen or strut. But he did make the effort to perform a presentation, as if sharing a private joke with me. The daring was part of it. He thought he was driving me crazy with temptation. He wasn’t. I thought it was amusing, him playing his little game thinking he had something I couldn’t wait to get my hands on, when all I was thinking was how important my tongue must be to him to get him to try to seduce me. Every time he did his little tricks it was apparent that it was HIM thinking about ME. He yawned a lot, stretching his arms up, clenching the mounds of his ass. He already walked with his huge shoulders thrust back, which he knew forced his lower back in and had his glutes jutting out like a shelf. He laid in his rack naked, on top of his blanket, and I’d see his eye rotate to see if I was looking before giving his ass a wiggle. Yeah, my dude loved what I did to him and wanted to make sure I didn’t lose interest. He used his muscle ass as a commodity. THAT was what turned me on. And maybe he was getting to me, too. I shouldn’t be noticing that he did all that for my benefit. Still, recognizing what was going on didn’t mean my leash was relaxed. I wasn’t letting that happen again. For now, we were engaged in a straightforward transaction. I left Sleeper to clean himself up. I took a much needed piss before going back to my rack. I noticed Zeus and Wanker weren’t back yet. I wasn’t surprised. Sleeper had taken just 25 minutes to get sorted. Zeus was probably still fucking Wanker. Or at least I hoped he was. I fell asleep hoping Sleeper wasn’t going to want me to fuck him every time we had our fun. That’s not where I wanted this to go. Of course I should have known better. ************************ Fucking bloody rotten hell, we were back out for training with the rest of our company. Sarge blasted his air horn at oh four thirty, just five hours after most of us got to bed. I wouldn’t put it past him to have known we’d stayed up to party, and he’d led us to believe we might not be going back out. At least the asshole could have waited until Monday. The only blessing was the rain had stopped, but it was far colder now. There was no time to ask Wanker or Zeus how it went, but I did notice Wanker had lost that defeated, morose attitude. Good, even if his rape-ravaged shitter wasn’t quite back to normal at least his head was screwed on straight. Zeus was unreadable. His every look and move precise, focused and dedicated to the easy perfection that came naturally to him. He didn’t even appear to take notice when Wanker shot frequent smiles his way as they put up the TEMPER we’d be bunking in. Our squad consisted of myself, Sleeper, Zeus, Puta, Troll, Demon, Wanker, and Bootlicker. Footlong, Cellblock, Dimples, Junior, Holler, C-Wrecker (Cuntwrecker when it was just us), Nuts, and Dumbo (his fuckin’ears, holy shit) made up the ambitiously named Big Dick squad, almost all of them with cocks that hung at least four inches soft. Assholes. The rest filled out the last two squads of our platoon. All good men. No slackers. No one complained that we’d just be tearing it down six days from now to pack camp back up. We were at a point we could set up our encampment with our eyes closed. Necessary training even though if it ever came to it we wouldn’t actually be the ones doing this. All this shit would be set up for us ahead of time by Support because it was considered a semi-permanent encampment. Outside of permanent or semi-permanent all we’d have would be personal equipment we carried on our backs if we were lucky. That would be a luxury most of the time because if you were out on a mission it was easier to stay hidden by holing up in the natural terrain or surroundings. But we were grateful we wouldn’t be sleeping out in the elements this week. We didn’t have showers, if you wanted a wash up you dipped a bucket in a fifty gallon drum. So we mostly skipped that, not minding our own stink and filth. It was probably Sergeant Charlie’s idea that our location was one that was formerly occupied by one of the other platoons, my guess was Charlie’s because their current position seemed suspiciously dry and undisturbed. So the ground was torn up and still muddy where we were told to set up. Thanks Wanker. Still worth it though as I took every opportunity to throw a sneering grin at whatever shaved Charlie I saw. I also made sure to tell the brothers if they saw a Charlie to remove their cover and rub a hand through their hair. It’s the little things in life that bring you joy. ******************** None of us were proud of the last week. The sergeants seemed to want to punish everyone. Spot drills, brutal full equipment marches during the day, redirects and backtracks, target locations (if we could even reach them) without the promised packages, returning to camp hours after dark to find our TEMPERs trashed, all of them. Cold MRE’s, which weren’t great when hot, and barely edible almost frozen. Some of us started putting ours in the waistband of our underwear to keep them thawed at body temperature. No heat, no fire. Mostly though we barely had the energy to taste the food, pretty much just swallowing it after a couple chews. Impossible missions, frustrating goalpost moving, forcing choices between saving a brother or completing the mission, do you leave them behind, equipment turning up missing or ruined, surprise attacks two hours after we’d collapse. You name a dirty trick, that’s what we endured. No-win scenarios, impossible targets, unachievable objectives. All. Fucking. Week. We failed damn near every mission, and no matter how much we tried to figure out what we did wrong, the only conclusion we could reach was that we weren’t SUPPOSED to succeed. Our morale flagged, everyone was pissy and whining like a bitch, except for Bootlicker and Wanker, who never gave up trying to make us smile or figure out a way we could beat the Sergeants at their own game. And of course not Zeus. Everyone except those three got into heated arguments, hurling insults and low blows, even Puta and Troll getting into a shoving match. Fat lot of good that did Puta, trying to push Troll around. I tried to stay out of it for the most part. I know my tone and attitude wasn’t the best, and I should have soothed my brothers like I knew I could. But I chose to let them get it out of their system, they needed to release the frustration. If they couldn’t do that with each other and then let it go, we weren’t going to be a successful squad. I waited until both the physical and verbal bullshit faded into exhaustion. “I’m guessing no one thinks we got anything out of the last two weeks, right?” I threw out. I got a resounding ‘FUCK NO!’ “Well I think we should. Here’s the plan.” And I started laying out the beginning of the diabolical fantasy I’d been putting together over the last three days of torture, more as a way to distract myself from our failures. But after seeing what had been done to us, how it had brought us down, I determined we needed something to get our mojo back. It had to happen tonight, before we broke camp tomorrow and headed back. The squad split up. Twenty minutes later, crowded into my TEMPER was every squad leader of the whole company. To unanimous agreement we all felt the complete suck of our training, and every one of them realized we’d been set up to fail. We weren’t stupid, we knew it was supposed to teach us something, probably some bullshit about how to handle failure, build comradery, never let our guard down, missions weren’t always easy or guaranteed to succeed, and about ten other stupid lessons. But enough was enough. They’d gone too far. I gave them their very simple orders - capture every Sergeant using whatever non-violent technique they could come up with. Use deceit, subterfuge, watch for a weak moment, capture and hold. They were to be stripped to their underwear, tied up and staked in the field beside the camp. They were to delegate two members of their squad to remove all of the Sergeants’ gear and personal equipment from their quarters. I told them it was going to be a long night, that we could trade off sleep, but that camp would be broken by dawn. I was still fleshing out what exactly we were going to do with the sergeants which was going to take careful planning because I didn’t want anyone to cross the line into disrespect or assaulting a superior. I made that point VERY clear. Immobilize without harm. This was simple, clean payback, not vengeance. I told them zero hour was the deadline, but that no one was to get their target to the field before 23:45, unless all targets had been neutralized before then. Everyone was to report to me by messenger when their targets were captured. I pulled Charlie’s squad leaders aside, had Wanker apologize and apologized myself. I told them we’d serve a punishment of their choice. They seemed surprised. I gave them a few minutes to talk it over and they were far more gracious than I gave them credit for. Decent brothers, who weren’t afraid to admit the humor in what Wanker had done. “Shave your heads, and keep them shaved for a month. Just your squad, not all the Bravos. Do that, and we’ll call you Brother again.” I didn’t have to think about it. “Done.” I said immediately. “Thanks for being a brother about it. We’re wearing war paint tonight. I’d like it if the Charlies did too.” They actually shook my hand. I asked them if they could handle Horvath, which they were uncertain about. I told them Zeus, Sleeper and Troll would make quick work of that beast. I’d already decided Zeus and Troll were going to take out Sarge. The other Sarges wouldn’t be a problem. Not everyone was a muscle bound brute in a uniform. ******************** I had to say I was impressed. At 22:36, all targets were enjoying the chilly hospitality of my field of prisoners. I had a nice fire burning, didn’t want our precious sergeants getting hypothermia. I noticed most had anger in their eyes. I sat comfortably on an equipment case facing the semicircle of my prisoners. My Sarge and Horvath seemed amused. “Mmmmmph, mmgh fuh muh dnnneh u” Sarge mumbled conversationally from behind his gag. I cocked my head. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you yet, but there’s no rush. We have all night.” I was trying to heat up my ‘beef stew’ MRE entree over the fire without cooking it to death. Entree. Yeah right. Fancy name for dogshit. “Nrr gnng u eh eeoreh”. He pointed out with a shrug. “Maybe.” I shrugged back. I didn’t think this would go as far as an official report. “I was kinda hoping maybe you’d be impressed. I planned all this just four hours ago.” I explained, gesturing vaguely to them and the air with my survival weapon. “Seems the entire company was fed up with being losers. Something we all figured out you Sergeants deliberately organized.” “Uh or ee id! Ah aheh ee oheree, oher.” I gauged his eyes, which held a challenge. I flicked to Horvath. He was calm and unruffled. He was curious to see how this would play out. I returned to Sarge with a lazy grin. “You are my prisoner Sarge. While I retain my deep respect for you, and everyone here, that we speak at all is on my terms. You have allowed yourselves to be captured by Army Privates. Honestly, whether I address you properly doesn’t seem to be something you should have at the top of your list. You really should be focused on one thing - escape. I bet each of you is going over the skills list of the soldiers that secured your hands and feet. I see Sergeant Alpha over there has a soldier who loves his knots. Don’t count on Alpha there getting loose first.” I laughed. I started eating my stew with my knife, never letting my eyes off of my prisoners. In between bites, I told them about their soldiers. I explained how we figured out the potential lessons we thought we were supposed to learn. “Yeah, the training sucked. Me and a few others figured out pretty quick we weren’t intended to succeed at our missions, and if it looked like we just might in spite of the dirty tricks you fuckers threw at us, you then crippled us somehow or moved the goal posts. If we gave up trying because we weren’t going to succeed, you punished us.” I took another bite, chewed slowly. “I gave them until zero hour to get all of you tied up. They accomplished the mission way earlier. Guess they were really pissed.” “You know this shit doesn’t taste anything like beef stew, right? Do you think it’s even real beef in there?” I looked up, and signaled with my knife. “You wanted to see how we dealt with failure as a unit? Behold the fruits of your labor.” The other squad leaders came over, each bringing an equipment case to sit on. It was deliberate that the Sarges were sitting on the ground while we sat above them on crates. They all filed past me, giving me a fist bump. I handed Charlie’s squad leader my knife. He pulled out some shaving cream. “Always count on your Sarge to be prepared, Bravo.” He said. “Call me Assmunch, Brother. Yeah, Sarge likes to stay pretty for the Army. I like that about him, he sets an example for us to live up to.” I replied. “Assmunch? You’re going to have tell me about how that happened.” I laughed. “You’re going to love it.” Horvath and Sarge were watching us closely. “You ready, Assmunch?” “Do it.” And cold, frigid water was poured on my head. My grease paint stayed of course. I felt the shaving cream rubbing into my scalp. I never took my eyes off Sarge and Horvath. The Charlie began shaving my head with my knife. He was pretty good, being careful. It took a while, and probably looked horrible, but this was about a message. Then all the squad leaders came and rubbed my newly bald head, saying ‘thanks, Brother’ even though we hadn’t talked about that. Maybe that was Charlie’s doing, I don’t know. It felt good. Then they all left, except the Charlie. “Mind if I sit watch with you, Assmunch?” “I’d be honored, Charlie.” He pulled his crate up beside mine. “Lamont.” I glanced at him. Of course I knew that, it was on his uniform. “How about Bald Tire?” “And here I was just starting to like you, Assmunch.” That made me laugh. “Yeah, besides, it doesn’t suit you. It’s better when your own men give you your nickname, anyway. It’s not my privilege.” We sat there, my Brother Lamont and I, talking quietly with each other, until we saw the eastern sky begin to glow. We’d taken turns getting more deadwood for the fire, making sure the Sergeants stayed warm. I told him the story of my nickname, which made him laugh so hard he fell off his crate. I left out the part about how much Sleeper enjoyed it. Bootlicker brought water for the Sergeants, and Lamont and I escorted away the three that needed to relieve themselves, none of them put up a fight. Thinking about it afterwards, I think none of them wanted to push things to a point where this turned from a prank into something actionable. They didn’t want to put us in a position where an unforgivable mistake was made. Our Sergeants were amazing. Part of me wondered how much they had allowed this to happen to see where we’d take it. When the sun first peeked over the horizon, I cut the Sergeants loose, starting with my Sarge and Horvath. Bootlicker wanted to involve peanut butter somehow, but I told him mistreatment of the prisoners wasn’t going to happen. We all walked back to camp, or what remained of it. The company had done an excellent job of breaking down, making sure not to touch the Sergeants tents. The guys had also rigged up a camp shower, complete with heated water for the Sarges, if they wanted to have the luxury and relax their stiff muscles after the long cold night being tied up immobile. I was pleased most of them accepted the kind apologetic gesture. Each squad leader then played valet for their Sarge, drying them off, then holding their uniform for them to get dressed. When I saw someone had taken it upon themselves to ball up Sarge’s uniform so it was a wrinkled mess, I nearly lost it on my squad. Looking at it, then the brothers, Demon had the decency to step forward. “Sorry Sarge. Sorry Assmunch. I got carried away.” I put Sarge’s uniform in Demon’s hands. “Fix it.” Was all I said. I turned to everyone else. “When the Sergeants are finished in their quarters, break em down and load em up. If you aren’t involved in that, you have camp cleanup duty. I want this entire area looking like we were never here. No one has set foot here for a year, you got me?” I shouted. “YES PRIVATE BRAVO!” The entire company yelled back. What had they gotten out of this, besides extra work? Simple. They accomplished a mission, finally. And after the two weeks of hell we’d just been through, they got a night to relax without fear of what the Sergeants were going to do to them on their last, most exhausted night. The squad leaders should have rotated duty and sleep for everyone, as I instructed. And I know without my plan those asshole had something planned to spring on us last night. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and working together, even with a different platoon. In fact, there didn’t seem to be the usual behavior of sticking to your squad or platoon. Everyone was helping out wherever they could lend a hand. I suspected they were eager to get back early to relax, finally, so the faster they got us packed up the sooner we could leave and get back to civilization. It was a relief that we were able to throw a wrench in the Sergeants’ potentially cruel hazing. Sarge and Sergeant Charlie confirmed exactly that when I followed them to their tent. I was going to wait just outside, but they waved me in. “Think that was clever, Private?” Sarge asked. I didn’t regret it, I did it for the Company. “The guys needed something, Sarge. We were at each other’s throats. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest plan, but I knew we couldn’t come out of this without a victory of some kind. This was all I could come up with to get everyone back to thinking like we were all on the same team. And feeling like we were soldiers. Besides, Sergeants, you were going to kick us when we were down. I don’t know what you had planned for last night, but we were done with the bullshit.” “He’s got a point, Walters.” Horvath interjected. Sarge glared at me, but something told me his heart wasn’t in it. “Too clever for your own good… Assmunch.” And I knew the official part of the debrief was over. There might be further repercussions, but I could trust Sarge to be fair. And of course, an ass raping by Horvath wasn’t anything I was worried about or fearing. If it happened, it happened. I could take the pain. I didn’t think it would though. “Gonna have to report it to El Tee, you know that.” “I know, Sarge. If it’s not too much to ask, I’ll take the hit. Leave my brothers out of it. It really was my plan.” Horvath crossed his arms. “Oh, we got the message loud and clear they all were following you into this game. You want to know why we didn’t give you a fight, after we were tied up in the field?” I scowled. “I’m getting the impression I missed something. I don’t like it.” Sarge smiled. Cocky fuck. “Relax, you couldn’t know. But you’ll know now. Hand signs. We ONLY decided to ride this out because you were the one in charge. You weren’t going to do anything stupid or extreme, and you wouldn’t be talked into crossing the line. Good move having your team take on Horvath. Those three were probably the only ones who Horvath respected enough not to break their legs, solid, steady men those three. Me, I could have resisted and gotten away any time I wanted. Half of us could have. Don’t be so proud that you got us earlier than your deadline. It happened because we let it happen.” I missed them communicating with each other, never saw a thing. Suddenly I realized how all of this could have gone so wrong. The whole company could have paid the price. I must have turned white as a sheet. “Too clever by half, I’d say. He just unraveled it.” Sarge said to Horvath. Who grinned. Wait… wait one fucking minute. Oh hell no. I was being played, I was almost certain of it. Horvath’s grin was too relieved. Like he WANTED me to buy it, hook line and sinker. And once I went where they lead me, far too self congratulatory. The nervous twitchy glance. There were no hand signs at the fire in the field, I never took my eyes off them. I didn’t miss anything. The other Sergeants were really pissed, they didn’t want to sit there in the dirt all night in front of this cocky Private. They were spread out, facing forward, it was dark, no head could turn to watch intricate signs being made behind anyone’s back, especially with fire blindness. Okay, you fuckers, how do I play this? I kept my face schooled, not letting on I had figured out their game. Do I let them save face? Do I call them on their bullshit? I decided. I stepped back to the doorway and called out. “ZEUS!” And stepped back inside. “Just between us, Sergeants.” I said. Zeus darted in seconds later. “Sergeant. Sergeant. Assmunch.” He addressed us. “Zeus, did Sergeant Horvath put up a fight when you, Sleeper, and Troll captured him?” I asked, watching Sarge and Horvath closely. They both stared straight ahead, giving away nothing. Zeus grinned. “Oh yes he did. It was amazing.” “And how did you incapacitate him?” I asked, smirking. “That will be all Private Gunnerson” Sarge interrupted. “Dismissed” “Yes Sergeant!” Zeus shot out the door behind us. “Fucker.” Horvath grunted. “Just between us. Good try though, Sarge. I’m actually happy you tried. I feel even better now.” I beamed. “Get out of my sight, Private.” He growled. “Yes, Sergeant!” I bellowed. I turned on my heel and toe, proper as you please to leave. “Not a word, Assmunch.” I whipped back around, attention. “Understood, Sergeant.” I looked at Horvath who looked to be holding back a laugh. “Sergeant.” I executed my about face once again, and left with a smile they couldn’t see, even though they had to know I was grinning like a fool. I remembered where I was and immediately wiped it off my face. It wouldn’t do if the brothers saw me leaving with a smile. That would send the wrong message. I almost ran into Demon coming the other way. Sarge’s uniform looking neat, and even somewhat pressed. “Help him like you were his personal slave, Demon. You know Sarge likes to look pretty. And he’s OUR Sarge. We want our Sarge to be the best, always. Apologize again.” I felt a presence behind me. I looked to find Sarge and Horvath. “Pretty?” Sarge argued. “Yes Sergeant, the prettiest.” I returned. “Why aren’t YOU OUT OF MY SIGHT PRIVATE?” I double timed it out of there before I got myself in more trouble. ************************* SLEEPER AND ZEUS ************************* We were all taking it easy in the barracks, enjoying our Saturday after the long sleepless night before. Most of us had slept in the transport on the hour long drive back to post. Showered and naked, or in our underwear, we cleaned our area and bartered for someone to do our laundry tomorrow. Some of the guys were talking about tonight’s party and picking a bitch to make the beer run to the PX. I stayed out of it. I was worrying about Andrew and if he was catching hell for our stunt yesterday. I was laying on my rack going through my training manual for the current section. Maps, plotting and navigation. “Sleeper, can I talk to you?” I heard Zeus’ amazing deep voice behind me. “Sure Zeus.” I froze for a moment when I looked at him. He looked good shaved clean like that. Very dangerous. Even more dangerous than with hair. I looked like a clown compared to him, and I was very easy on the eyes, I knew. “Uh, what’s up?” Zeus sat down next to me. He was wearing Army sweatpants and a Tee shirt that barely fit his bulky chest and shoulders. I saw his eyes glance down at my naked white ass. Then they traveled up my defined muscular back. He took his time. I waited. Zeus could check me out all he wanted. It didn’t feel dirty or gay the way he did it. It felt good that he was appreciative of the hard work I put into training my body. When a physical specimen at the peak of masculinity checks you out, it’s definitely a compliment. I felt the same way when the jacked up guys at the gym gave me a once over. I don’t think he even thought about being self conscious about staring at me, it was more like he had the right to inspect my nakedness at his discretion. Hard to argue with that. “Do you think Andrew is in trouble?” he asked, when he was finished. “Who knows, Zeus? It’s hard to figure out the Sarge. He always seems mad. But I hope not.” “Me too, Sleeper.” Suddenly, Zeus’ hand was on my back. I froze again. It wasn’t a hesitant, tentative touch. It assumed ownership, no permission necessary. He began moving it over my muscles, massaging, examining. “Uh, Zeus…” I stuttered. Anyone else did that and they’d be knocked on the ground. “Your skin is so pale.” Zeus observed. “It’s nice.” Holy fuck was this happening? “Uh….thanks.” He stopped moving his hand, right above my ass. I felt my face flush, but I still didn’t move. His hand felt good, but I was also weirded out. “Is this bothering you?” He asked casually, no different than the way someone would ask what kind of juice I liked with breakfast. Like he didn’t see this as anything strange. “Uh, a little, yeah.” I managed to get out. I hated myself for liking his attention, and hated that I couldn’t let him touch me like this at the same time. “Zeus, you can’t do this. Especially not here.” Out in the open where everyone could see. Fuck, Zeus finally comes out of his shell and this is what he does? I was afraid to move, I felt cornered. The worst part of it was that I knew if he went further I wouldn’t or couldn’t stop him, and I hated the feeling of being powerless. I was a man, but a real man wouldn’t let this happen. I closed my eyes. My mind was scattered, racing in five different directions. Why wasn’t Andrew here, he’d know how to handle this. Was Zeus really coming onto me or was this just innocent misguided male appreciation? Were any of the brothers watching? I should have worn underwear or shorts, something as a barrier to being felt up. I liked Zeus, worshipped him actually, how could he make me feel this way? I felt like crying. But the absolute worst part was feeling my dick getting hard, the way my body liked his touch while my brain screamed no. I felt myself begin to panic. “Yeah, hold him down Zeus, I got next!” I heard Troll say from the other side. Then the cot moved and Troll threw his weight on top of me. I felt Troll’s fully clothed body smother me. Zeus’ hand was gone, and I was instantly relieved. Troll started dry humping my ass, grunting in fake ecstasy. “Oh yeah, so tight bro!” “You think that shit’s free, Troll?” I found my voice. “You can’t afford my fine ass. You got five seconds to get off me!” I growled. Troll pinned my shoulders, thrusting harder. “I only need three. I’m gonna nut, bro! Ahhhhh, here it comes!” And he had a WAY over-acted fake orgasm, bouncing me violently against the mattress. He climbed off and smacked my ass. “Best piece of ass I’ve ever had. Hope you’re on the pill, I’m too young to be a dad.” Seeing my out, I leapt up and started chasing him. Zeus was watching, still sitting on my rack. “Get him, Zeus!” I yelled. “Hold him down for me!” Zeus was fast. Troll was scooped up and thrown over Zeus’ shoulder in no time. Troll was beating his fists against Zeus’ back, but it looked like he was trying to punch an oak tree. It was funny how Troll had no defense against Zeus. Zeus just picked him up like a bag of dog food. “Where do you want him, Sleeper?” “Throw him on that bunk. Pin him, and hold his arms. It’s payback time.” “No! Sleeper! C’mon bro.” Troll pleaded. Zeus was sitting on top of his hips, holding his wrists to the bed. “Not so tough anymore, huh?” I teased. I was taking my time walking over. I exaggerated the swing of my hips, making my cock and balls sway left and right as my thick muscular thighs punched them outward with every step. I loved the way my dick flopped like that. “You gonna take your punishment like a man, or like a little bitch?” Zeus was fixated on me. Ah well, even though encouraging him wasn’t smart, I had to show him that playful contact was the way we did things. “You wanna fuck around? Zeus here is my protector, right Zeus?” Zeus nodded. “Right Sleeper!” I stood on the bunk over Troll’s head. “Sleeper! I take it back! Don’t do it!” Troll begged. I looked at Zeus, who couldn’t take his eyes off my junk just a foot away from his face. Yeah, Assmunch and I would have to have a talk about Zeus. “What do you think, Zeus?” I asked. “Should I forgive him?” “Tell him to forgive me!” Troll commanded. He may as well have been talking to a wall. Zeus surprised me. “He should have treated you like a gentleman, Sleeper. He needs to pay for what he did.” With the most absolute sincerity that I think I’ve ever heard. A warm feeling coursed through me with the words. And relief. Zeus would never force himself on me. It was obvious he didn’t have a lot of experience interacting with people in general, or us. And I realized then Zeus had stopped and asked if he was bothering me because he cared about how I felt. And with that thought, the feeling of being dirty, the fear of being cornered, the nausea over being touched intimately by another dude… it all faded away. “Hear that, Troll? I’m a gentleman. You buy me dinner first.” And I smiled at Zeus, who smiled back with every fiber of his happy heart. And then I crushed my junk and ass into Troll’s ugly face, swirling my hips around, while I counted to ten. This fucker was going to get dickwiped. When I was done, I stepped off. “Thanks for your help, Zeus. You can let him up.” “Ugh, disgusting pervert!” Troll spat. I busted out laughing when Zeus gave Troll a playful slap, saying “That’s Sir Pervert, to you, Troll. I think it’s your turn to be Bitch tonight.” I’d never seen this side of Zeus. He actually did know how to have fun. He caught on fast. Including him was the right way to go. And Bitch was the first halfway dirty word I’d ever heard come out of his mouth. Today was full of surprises. “What? That’s not fair!” Troll scowled as he got up. “You think anyone is going to argue with Zeus?” I grinned back at him. I was back in a great mood. “Fuck you!” Troll snarled. Then he remembered who he was talking to. “Not you, Zeus. I meant Sleeper.” Zeus reached out to grab Troll’s neck, an angry look on his face. Before he could get Troll’s thick neck in his giant paw, I put my hand on Zeus’ arm. “Relax, Zeus, he’s playing.” Zeus backed down, but his eyes were VERY displeased. “He shouldn’t say bad words at you Sleeper.” Oh God, what I have I done? “Troll is our brother. Brothers fight. It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. Right Troll?” “Right, Sleeper. I love you, brother. Even though my face smells like your dick now.” And Troll gave me a hug. “Still sucks I gotta be Bitch though.” Zeus appeared to calm down. But he crossed his huge arms and looked down at us. “Well he better not say bad words at me. I don’t like them.” He looked like fuckin’ Mr. Clean in that pose, with that glare. “We’ll make sure everyone knows, Zeus. But I’m okay if they say them to me, alright.” I explained. How come it felt like I was talking to my kid brother in middle school, instead of a 19 year old giant God? I was so confused… put Zeus in any training module and you couldn’t touch him, he seemed like he was ten years older than the rest of us in confidence, bravado, ability, and expression. But outside of training, he seemed like a kid. A dangerous giant jacked up bull of kid, but still a kid. Zeus shrugged. “If that’s what you want, Sleeper.” I felt lucky the guy had a thing for me. I wouldn’t want to be in Troll’s shoes. Then we spread the word that Zeus decreed that Troll was our Bitch tonight, and Troll headed out to the PX for tonight’s snacks and alcohol, grumbling the whole time. He shut up though, every time Zeus gave him a look. Being overseas in a foreign country, on a relatively small training base like ours meant no vehicle transportation, and limited opportunities to go off post. Those of us here for AIT were kept pretty locked down, which sucked. It was smart, though, from the Army’s point of view. 19 year old American military boys who were pent up and frustrated would be hell on the closest towns and city, even if we had a way to get there. We envied the Specialists and Senior NCO’s for their freedom. Newly minted PFC’s like us were kept virtual prisoners. That was the deception of the military. In basic, as a green recruit, or Cherry as we’d been called, we lived for the day we’d be out of Basic and become real soldiers. Only to find out we were limited in freedom and movement as Private Second Class E-2s which didn’t happen fast enough after Basic. Ironic, wasn’t it, that we were told we were fighting for freedom while giving up our own? We’d be told at every opportunity that we weren’t real soldiers YET. Then getting our mosquito wing insignia ( fuckin’ FINALLY a single chevron ) after slow passing months. Then when we finally reach PFC E-3 we’d discover the game of carrot on a just out of reach stick we’d get our rocker and wouldn’t consider ourselves lowly privates anymore, even though we would be. We’d be long gone from AIT before we saw E-3. You went nowhere without time in grade. So then we all looked forward to Specialist which meant we were through with training and bullshit and could call ourselves true soldiers. I couldn’t wait to never be called Private again. (Hah! Through with training… not in the Army) You starting to get the gist of it? Every promotion felt like you’d be better off, right up until you reached it and realized it was not much better than lower rank in any meaningful way, and wanted the next rank which seemed so much more free and worthy. That was deliberate. The Army knew how to keep the mule plodding forward. Hell, we didn’t even rate dorm style housing quarters with our own room with a door on this crappy post, like other bases had. Gotta love the Infantry. But I thought it was cool that we were a NATO training base, which meant we did get some interaction with allied forces. Not much, but guest instructors and the occasional junior soldier appeared for some sections of our training. For some of us, it was a wake up call that the world was bigger than we thought, and other countries had proud, dedicated soldiers just like we did. I needed Assmunch to get back. We needed to talk about a couple things. Where the fuck was he? The longer he was gone, the more I worried we had fucked up. ASSMUNCH ****************** “Why is it always you Bravos?” The Lt. complained. I started to answer, opening my mouth. “That was rhetorical, Private.” Sarge growled from behind me. I didn’t think it was. Private Lamont was standing at attention next to me. By his very presence, ‘always’ was incorrect. But okay. If the Lt didn’t know Lamont was a Charlie it wasn’t my place to point that out. Lt. FUHA, paced behind his desk. I was relieved that my first act when I got back was to shave my head properly. It wouldn’t do to be called in front of the Lt out of grooming discipline. We all took turns shaving each other’s skulls, all of us naked except for Zeus. Demon complained, but did it anyway. It was the terms of our surrender. They understood. Impossibly, Zeus looked even more deadly and serious, like some villain from a comic book. “Were operations disrupted?” El Tee asked. “No sir. Maneuvers and training were concluded. Camp function did not deteriorate. Order was maintained surprisingly well considering it was run by a group of barely adult idiots, sir.” Sergeant Horvath reported. Kiss my ass, Sergeant Charlie. Kiss my tight white ass. “We’re any regulations broken?” “Several, sir.” “Any that can’t be overlooked?” “None, sir.” “Did anyone disobey orders?” “No orders were given, Sir” El Tee looked at me and Lamont. “Do you know what it’s called when soldiers revolt?” I swallowed. Lamont answered. “Mutiny, sir.” I didn’t think this truly classified as a revolt. But technically, I guess it did. “And what’s the punishment for mutiny, Private?” He looked at Lamont. “Court Martial, sir. Dishonorable discharge. Or worse, Imprisonment or Death.” I was starting to sweat. Lamont , from the corner of my eye, appeared relaxed and unworried. The Lieutenant came around his desk to look me in the eye. He didn’t miss my freshly shaved head. A momentary grin appeared, and was squashed. What did Wanker call it? The return of Officer Tired of My Bullshit? That probably wasn’t fair. Just by the questions he was asking I sensed Lt. Jones was a decent guy. He could easily have hung us by a rope. “Been a while since death was sentenced, did you know that?” The Lieutenant mused. “Rhetorical “ I heard Sarge whisper. Lamont and I didn’t move a muscle. “You held U.S. Army Sergeants prisoner? Restrained? All night? Were you ordered to release them?” The Lieutenant asked. “The Sergeants were gagged, Sir. They could not give an order.” I offered. He rubbed his eyes. “And gagged. I’m getting a headache. I’m just going to start calling my headaches ‘Bravo’ from now on.” The El Tee went back around his desk to sit down. He put both hands palm down on his desk. “Sergeant Horvath, you and your soldier are dismissed.” “Yes, Sir. With me, Private.” Horvath barked. After they left, the Lieutenant stared at me for a few minutes. I kept my eyes on the wall ahead of me, perfect still. “Are you going career, Private?” He asked out of the blue. I stiffened up, putting Attention to my attention. “If the Army will have me, Sir. My Father is career. I’ve always wanted to be Army, like him, Sir.” “The Army doesn’t hand out step increases or rank like candy, Private. You have to stay on top, constantly test in the highest percentile, move up before time runs out on your enlistment. Have you thought about going for a commission? Being an officer?” I shook my head. “Sir, NCO is good enough for me Sir. Wanted to go for Ranger School, Sir.” “You can still be a Ranger as an officer.” “Yes, sir.” “Your ASVAB scores tell me you’re a good candidate, your AIT evaluations so far are exemplary. Except for this little adventure, Sergeant Walters tells me you are an exceptional soldier, and I’m still trying to figure out if the way you ran this mutinous operation outweighs the stupidity of it. You gained the trust of your men, even the Charlies which I wouldn’t have bet money on, and they followed you in spite of Private Lamont knowing full well what doing so meant.” He explained. Ahhhhhh, so that was why Sergeant Horvath and Lamont were here. The Lieutenant continued. “Alpha, Charlie and Delta Sergeants reported they were treated very well, and you and Lamont had your soldiers operating like a fine tuned, efficient machine. The Army knows it’s difficult to teach that kind of leadership. I’m ordering you to keep your nose clean while finishing AIT, no more stunts like this. And keep your squad in line, as well as the Bravos. Am I clear?” “Sir, yes Sir!” I knew he was talking about reining in Wanker and Bootlicker, the pranksters. Wanker wouldn’t be a problem, Horvath had put the fear of horsecock in him. Bootlicker was going to be a little work, but he wasn’t an actor so much as an instigator. Bootlicker let others do his dirty work. “Dismissed.” “Yes Sir! Private, fall out.” Sarge answered. I saluted the Lieutenant. Turned and left through the door, Sarge following. I decided right then I would stop thinking of or referring to the Lieutenant as Lt. FUHA. He wasn’t the kind of officer my father hated. “Eyes forward, Private. My office.” We reached the Sergeants area at the end of the hall, and I turned right. We passed by each office, but I didn’t dare look anywhere but in front. “You want to do this in mine?” I heard Sarge say to someone behind me. I continued to Sarge’s doorway, went in. I stood in front of his desk at attention. If this was an ass raping, I truly deserved it. He was probably talking to Sergeant Horvath. Sarge’s office was just like him - neat, organized, without a lot of decoration or unnecessary clutter. Files were stacked corner to corner in a precise pile, the papers inside them also perfectly lined up. Sure enough Horvath walked in with Sarge. “Close the door, Private.” I turned to see Lamont, which was a surprise. Lamont closed the door. I turned back around and came to attention again. Lamont stood at attention beside me. Sarge sighed. “At ease, grunts.” Now he started rubbing his eyes. Horvath just stood there, a bemused look graced his swarthy face. “Alright, I’m almost certain Assmunch here could read what just happened. So Private Lamont, why don’t you amaze us with your staggering intellect.” Sarge said. I hadn’t read shit, just the fact I almost lead my entire Company who trusted me into committing the second worst crime you could commit in the military. Treason was, of course, first. “Yes Sergeant. The Lieutenant is not in my chain of command, nor Sergeant Horvath’s. My Lieutenant was not present. The other squad leaders were not present, nor were any of the other sergeants or Lieutenants.” “So that tells you what?” Horvath spoke up. “This wasn’t going to be a general disciplinary action. Nor was it going to be official.” Lamont replied. Sarge had given me too much credit. I figured out none of that. And who the fuck was Lamont, throwing out ‘nor’ into sentences like he was reading a fancy book? Who does that? “And how do you know there won’t be official disciplinary action in the future?” Lamont shrugged. “I guess there could be Sergeant, but Brickmann and I were brought in together, with our Sergeants. That’s not usually how general disciplinary action goes.” Horvath chuckled. “Yeah you’d know about that, wouldn’t you?” Lamont blushed. Oh, we got a bad boy. I took a second look at Lamont. “Brickmann, care to chime in?” How far did I dare to take this? I decided this wasn’t the time for verbal games. “I got lucky, Sarge. We all got lucky, but I doubt if this all went south you would have hung everyone up. I admitted I planned it all, convinced the entire company through the squad leaders to follow me. I should have seen the bigger picture.” Horvath and Sarge shared a look. “Where’s that cocky Private eating his MRE with a knife who lectured me about being a prisoner? I liked that guy.” “Standing here ashamed, Sarge. The Lieutenant was right, what we did was technically mutiny.” Horvath stepped forward. “It was also technically NOT mutiny. At any other time this week it would have been. At any other time in your career, it would have been. Think about why the Lieutenant asked the questions he did.” Orders, regulations, operations. “Intent rarely matters in the Army, Private, but in this case it did. This wasn’t about overthrow of command or revolt, or disobeying orders. We could clearly see that. Except for still being out on training maneuvers in the field, you were all technically off duty and training was done. For you, and them, it was about working as a unit, protecting the Company, turning failure into success. This is training, this is when you learn those things. Failing is important, but so is creating success. The Sergeants were impressed, even as pissed as they were, that you could guide this group of grunts through this operation so cleanly. You improved morale. And you were right, we were hitting you boys really hard. So you see, it’s not too hard for us and the Lieutenants to see this for what it was - a misguided prank. Horvath and I actually had a good time relaxing by the fire, watching you and Lamont here do some bonding. And you got the camp packed up, without your troops grumbling. You anticipated your superiors. You fit your plan and objectives to the situation. You made many decisions that demonstrated quality, respect, focused on unit performance, never taking your eye off your objective, covering every angle. And you stepped up and put yourself out front to protect your men. Frankly, you did our job for us while we got to sit around and be lazy.” I thought about it, how it all happened. So many things could have gone wrong. “I got lucky nothing went wrong, no one acted up and did anything stupid.” Sarge shook his head. “I don’t think you get it, Brickmann. Things didn’t go wrong and no one did anything stupid, because YOU were leading them. Private Lamont , do you think you could have pulled this off?” “Honestly, not in the timeframe he did it, Sergeant. Maybe eventually, but I would have had problems with a few of the squad leaders.” Lamont answered. “And why did YOU go along with this?” Sarge asked him. “Him. His confidence. His plan was exactly what we needed to get refocused, without being juvenile or poorly hatched. He spread out command, didn’t show favoritism, or give his squad special treatment. And he apologized straight to my face for what Private Sendahl had done, without being a jackass, or being a weasel. That took a lot. Earned our respect. I got the feeling Private Brickmann was a straightforward standup soldier, Sergeant.” I was floored. Is that the vibe I gave off? That’s not what I was trying to do. “Would you have followed anyone else, Lamont?” Horvath asked. “Maybe The big guy, Gunnerson. Something about him. Never spoken to the guy, but the way he carries himself reminds me a lot of you, Sergeant.” I had no problem agreeing with that assessment. I’d have followed Zeus too. He was capable, serious, determined, and seemed far older than 19 years old. “Like the Lt said, keep your nose clean, both of you. Look, we know you’re just kids, we’re trying to turn you into soldiers and you’re not as close to that as you think you are. Letting off a little steam is expected, but there’ll be no more bullshit tolerated.” Sarge told us. “Understood, Sergeant.” I agreed. “Yes Sergeant.” Lamont followed. I had no idea what was happening with the Charlies, but I got the sense the Bravos weren’t the only headache in the Company. “Dismissed.” ************************************** SLEEPER AND ASSMUNCH ************************************** “I gotta talk to you, Assmunch.” Sleeper pulled me aside the minute I got back. He told me about what happened with Zeus. “I think Zeus is gay, dude.” He finished with a whisper. I sighed. I suddenly got a glimpse of maybe how Sarge and the Lieutenant felt when they had to deal with our fuck-ups. I didn’t have the mental energy for this. “I’m fine, thanks for asking, buddy.” I replied with sarcasm. “Just got chewed out for mutiny, nothing serious.” “Shit! Bro, are they gonna court martial you?” He shot back. I held a hand up. “Relax, no one’s getting court martialed. And keep your voice down. I’d be sitting in a cell if that happened, not talking with you. But getting talked through it almost had me shitting in my pants.” I didn’t want to tell my best friend about the Lieutenant’s talk of Officer. There wasn’t anything certain there. I know he was just putting the idea in my head, and that a lot of things had to happen before the possibility even appeared on the horizon. But why did it feel like Lt was offering me the opportunity? We had five more weeks of AIT to go, and nothing was going to happen before then anyway. You didn’t just get promoted to Lieutenant like in the movies. It meant a college degree first, something I didn’t have the money for. Not to mention I wasn’t even sure I WANTED to be an officer. My dad always called them useless. Of course, my dad wasn’t Infantry. I don’t know, it was all flying around in my head. Too much to siphon through. And now Big Gay Zeus on the verge of blowing a Big Gay Hole in our barracks brotherhood, which absolutely could not happen. Not only did I want to keep Zeus from getting booted, I didn’t want Sarge and the Lieutenant, or the brothers for that matter, to go through any kind of investigation which would uncover way too many things happening in Bravo Platoon. And while I trusted most of my squad, Bootlicker was a weak link. And Puta worried me too if it came to supporting a gay brother. I knew I had to get Zeus to rein it in. I was not going to lose our Gay God if I could help it. “Get some clothes on, bro. And go get Zeus, wherever he’s at. Let’s go get chow and sit down to talk.” I told Sleeper. “Yeah, fuck I’m hungry.” Sleeper never got UNhungry.