DevilDawg

My barebacking during the peak of the AIDS Era was originally due to mistakes in lube and technique. However, as I got over the shock of my first bloody fuck with a rough rider condom on top of a regular condom deflowering, I experienced the shock and thrill of a condom snapping. As kinks go, (to my knowledge) there is not a hanky for that particular kink. In 1991, as the Gulf War was starting It was unlikely that my (then) unit was going to be deployed because an AH-1F could barely get out of a high hover with a full fuel and ammo load so I got put on a counter drug key personnel upgrade KPUP deployment at Ft Clayton, Ft Kobe, and Howard AFB Panama. Besides HIV, there was a local strain of Black Syph so I was bursting as my 45 day TDY went on over 6 months at USARSO. When I returned, I learned my landlord had tossed my stuff out in the street months before my return so most of my nights for the next 6 months was at the O Street Baths, Falcon Theater, LaCage, etc. (Where the Nationals Ballpark is now, where the Pope blessed the Nation). Prior to that, from around 1983 to when it was demolished, I would spend hours in the theater section of Casino Royal on DC's 14th St after getting loaded with beer at the DC Eagle. Play would usually start safe but the condom always seemed to disappear. Same with the corral sex section of the old Frat House, blackout nights at the The New York Ave Eagle and the earlier locations, and when the weather was good, the brush in the P Street Beach Area. You should not have too many indiscretions so close to work, but plenty of safe sex turned into unsafe bare sex especially at Lyndon Banes 'Johnson' Park by the parking lot of the Pentagon with Rt 1/110 on the other side. The real shocks came when play started safe with the surety of friction, then felt better with little friction, then you went to the bathroom to do your business and found multiple rubbers in the stool. It was a shuddering shock when you have had two cocks up your ass but find 3 or 4 rubbers in the bowl. My shuddering and Shockey question to myself: Were they picking up used ones off of the floor and fucking them up my chute? Good Times!

…continued… When we had met, I had noted that Andy was a MCMAP Green Belt. This means besides his training as ‘Every Marine A Rifleman’, plus his MOS Qualifier Training, he had received over 75 hours of extra hand to hand combat techniques training and testing as well as ethical consideration training on when not to use those skills. Let’s face it, if you cripple someone in a bar fight even if they started it, you are going to get in a shitload of trouble. As he was trying to adapt to an appropriate response track, there were some complications such as being naked with a hardware laden cock hammering his ass. Even though I was an NCO, my training in ‘gay’ studies was very basic. I was still at the Novice Freshman level. As I realized what was causing Andy’s distress, I neglected to consider how unhappy it would make the black cock owner that had been bruising my throat and cutting off my air. My understandable turning to help a Shipmate was also (I now know) bottom speak for: “Please use my other hole Sir”! The time it took me to realize my mistake was about the same time it took for the BBC owner to hilt himself balls deep in my rectum. Except for Andy’s finger, my sphincter had been returning to normal in the 5 days since the Troll Gang Bang. Andy was still being hammered, My BBC had assumed a rabbit fuck pace, the press and heat of surrounding bodies was smothering. Andy disengaged by falling in a heap on the floor and about that time the Black Man who was fucking me yelled take my DNA while he increased his pace. My hardon was as stiff as when I had fucked Buddy not all that long ago. My ass hurt, my breathing was labored, my earlier air restriction / choking had my PTSD in overdrive and I realized I was shuddering min pure ecstasy in a trembling, shuddering, precum generating assgasm and leaking ejaculate in a drool out of my cock. Andy and I had both lost our towels. Andy found two by feeling around on the cum slick floor. As we wormed our way out of the press of bodies and headed to the showers Andy was subdued and not talkative like he was before. In the well-lit showers, I noticed tiny rivulets of red on Andy’s Crack, Buttocks and Legs. Andy looked at me and said “Mike, I’m sorry, that got out of hand”. “Fuck that – are you OK”? “Just surprised is all” he said as he dropped to his knees as we both realized my cock was still stiff. Andy took me into his mouth and started sucking. My Cock was sensitive because of everything that had happened during the night, but it was a wonderful feeling, and it did not take long until I spurted in his mouth and he swallowed. Andy kept on sucking. People would come into the shower room, watch and some acted like they were trying to get involved but Andy and I pushed their hands away. Time was distorted but Andy started to alertness as he checked his watch – “Shit, we have to go”! We dressed wet, exited the bathhouse and summoned an Uber. We made it back in time for Andy to make morning muster. On the way, I had softly asked again if Andy was OK? If he was on PrEP? He responded that yes he was doing on-demand dosing but as he did so, said shit under his breath. When I asked what was wrong, he said I have a few but just need to get a refill. I was still on my extension for bereavement leave but Andy had to hustle once we got back to the room. He was fishing with a spoon in his Muscle Milk and Protein Powder jars along with a few curses, fished out two pills and took them, dressed and rushed to muster. I fell onto my rack exhausted and leaking cum out of my ass. My energetic dreams were full of orgies and gang bangs. I awoke to people entering the room. Shit, I had at least pulled a poncho liner over my naked leaking ass as I had gone back to bed. Fuck! Friday barracks inspection. As I started awake, my ass still wet and leaking cum onto my fully made-up rack blanket the First Sgt and Lt. came in. Phew, the Top was starting ‘on your feet’ but the LT said, “as you were”. He added “room unsat, square this room away Corporal. My condolences but your extension is up on Monday Morning” and they left. It took minutes for my heartrate to go down. At least they did not catch me with a boner or observe the sludge leaking out of my ass. I was not sure that my dick would ever rise again after that scare. There was no way I was going to get back to sleep so I showered after trying to push the remaining cum out of my ass. Then I worked on getting the room back into acceptable status. By lunchtime, I needed to eat but avoided the chow hall. I grabbed my laptop and headed for McDonalds I had been treating my body like a toilet the last week so there was no reason to stop now. I ordered some food with Iced Tea and found a corner where my screen could not be observed. The local WiFi soon kicked me off due to the searches I was performing. I switched over to my phone hotspot mode and continued. I looked at web info on STD/STI transmission and moved to searches on gay sexual behavior. Breath Play was on the path I had seen listed when I selected a subtopic I thought I had never heard of called autoerotic asphyxiation but a reference citing David Caradine’s Cause of Death triggered a memory that I had heard about it but dismissed it. I recalled the total sensory overload I had experienced at the bathhouse as I was being fucked by Andy, the shock of the condom snapping like a rubber band, my being choked by the BBC, the clench, and the high velocity load that had shot out of my dick from the orgasmic overload. In my limited knowledge exchange from my Uncle, and previous viewing of straight and gay porn I was ill equipped with practical experience since it had been 6 days since my deflowering. I was acutely aware of the hard bench seat and the hard rod in my pants. The twitch in my ass became more urgent. I had anticipated watching some porn, but my current discomfort of being Horney in a fast-food joint would just get worse if I did. I found myself daydreaming about what Andy and I would do over the weekend. When I returned to the Barracks, I found a note from Andy that he had been tapped to replace a Marine on the TDY Rodie Crew member whose wife had gone into labor sooner than expected. My plans for the next two weeks went up in smoke. FUCK! I sat in a funk at my desk for what seemed like hours. I thought of and discarded going to the bathhouse after Thursday’s experience. The only other person who had proffered any guidance on these gay topics was Leo and I needed to consider a best path forward to avoid screwing everything up. In the short term, I performed a manual release on the toilet thinking about the past week, then showered and hit the rack for a night of troubled sleep. Saturday Morning, I woke to morning wood but as I stroked, I remembered my plan of action. I went into my wall locker and pulled out my folded Flyer’s Kitbag. These heavy-duty large B Bags were built for heavy amounts of gear and were durable enough not to burst when stressed. There were two reinforced handles since Marines in Uniform do not really have the need for sissy backstraps, nor would they get away with using them anyway. These bags were simply improved in materials but had not changed much since Viet Nam. The zipper was no longer metal but heavy duty synthetic. The logistics and equipment designers had also by design or happy accident engineered a bag you could carry a shitload of pizzas in without mangling the pizzas. I laid it on my rack. I was in my running shoes, PT shorts, and T Shirt. On my left bicep was my PT phone and ID holder with a zip for cash and plastic. I went for a short run. My route took me by the overpass where I noticed familiar figures. Good, the periodic cycle of clearing homeless encampments had not affected my cherry pickers. I returned to Barracks where I pulled a pair of board shorts over the PT shorts because while I could wear the civilian T at the Class 6/Marine Mart the PT shorts would get me written up or hinder my mission. I grabbed the B Bag then went to the Class 6 and got a 24 pack suitcase of Bud Light, then headed for the pizza place that was just opening for the day. Armed with a B-Bag full of beer and a stack of medium pizzas, I set off on my mission quest. I tried he-manning the load and carrying it with outstretched arm but there was a difference between this awkward bulk and the reps I would do at the fitness center. I eventually settled on grabbing the handle on one side arced around my shoulder rotator cuff and continued on. During the day as opposed to a rainy night, there were fewer guys under the bridge overpass than the previous rainy weekend. As Leo recognized me their air of caution passed, and their casual manner resumed. “Hey Mike, back for more? More importantly did you go by and get some PEP for those toxic loads”? “Well yes” I answered and then realized that answered both questions. “I appreciate what you did when I was feeling really low and thought I would bring a little something” and started pulling out pizza and the beer. Leo looked at me. “Plenty of Marines come back for more, but few are this thoughtful”. His humor was reflected in his chuckle and infectious mood. As we consumed the Pizza and beer, we did some catching up on the last week. When Leo asked me if I had thrown away my PEP bottle as he had predicted as likely - I honestly realized I had forgotten today’s dose as well as yesterday’s and told him so. “Mike, it was kind to bring the Pizza and Beer. We’ll eat your slices and drink your beer. We may be homeless but were not whores. If you want us to cut a slice of your ass and mouth, all you needed to do was smile and ask”. As he saw my expression change Leo said “Don’t sweat it kid, just fucking with ya. However, answer me this: Is your goal to explore your sexual appetites or is it to get Pozzed”? When I did not return a quick answer, Leo added “if you are chasing for chasing’s sake, when you get Pozzed it is sort of anticlimactical. If you pick up HIV from the best sex you have ever experienced, well that is a risk every young gay lad takes preventive steps or not. What are your goals? I need an answer”. “I suppose the Poz and the sex” I replied. “Alright, if we are going to do this, I’ll give you what you are asking for along with what you need but only if you promise me you’ll stay with me all day, do what I say, and not flake out, agreed?” I nodded and said “Yes Sir”. “OK, come over here” and he led me into a patch of scrub trees and bushes in this little island of urban jungle. “Drop your shorts and step out of them. Bend over and grab that sapling”. Leo ran a hand down my crack and probed my hole with a finger. He sniffed and asked why are you here begging for cock with a dirty hole? I stammered with an excuse such as ‘I forgot’ but Leo said. “Never mind, remember your promise. Here is a demonstration of douching in the field and stuck his semihard head in my hole which even after the week of exercise was still sore. I felt a warm wet feeling – Leo was pissing up my ass! I started to turn but he was holding my hips reminding me of my promise. I was revolted but thrilled at the same time. As Leo finished, he pointed to a culvert with a storm drain slot and said “expel it there”. And return to your position. Leo walked away, but shortly afterwards, Devon, the BBC from my deflowering came into the open space. “Leo said you want me to piss up your ass”. I just hung my head and pushed my ass out. I was getting desperate. “OK you asked for it” and pushed an inch or so of his semi-hard cock into my ass and let loose. This stream was stronger, and my sore ass was reacting in a slutty way trying to slide further down his ebony pole, but Devon told me to hold still. The stream stopped and I expelled the result at the culvert then returned to my position. Devon spit and I felt his 10 inch cock battering in past the inch it had previously held. My ass was wet but not slick. The breaching was both agonizing and exciting. Previously, there had been plenty of loads to lubricate the way. This time, it was pure traction just like when Andy used a condom on me Thursday night. With some grunting and pushing, he eventually hilted and then started to reverse. I had been clenching my jaw trying not to scream out. Devon’s cockhead wiggled past my joy button, and I moaned while my cock inflated and twitched. The itch was being scratched and empty spot in my hole was being filled - I was complete. Devon started picking up the pace, his toxic pre was providing some lubrication I also smelled a faint coppery smell, and I wondered if I was bleeding again. Regardless of how lubed I was, he picked up the pace and started angling his cock to batter my prostate driving me crazy with lust. Without warning, my ass clenched, and I shot a rope of cum into the dirt at my feet. The burning friction was finally being softened by Devon’s cum as he shot volleys into my ass chute. Leon appeared and placed my B-Bag flat on the dirt of the tiny clearing and said “Flat on your Back, and grab your ankles” Devons cock was still stiff but I pulled off to comply and Devon got on his knees and reinserted his hardening tool. “Round 2” devon said and started hammering away. At this angle, his cock pounded my button mercilessly causing a steady ooze of pre to come out of my piss slit. A really old guy joined us, knelt and took out his teeth and started sucking on my sensitive cockhead despite my objections. He had a pot belly and spots on his skin which was stretched across tendons and bones. His uncut cock was impressively veined just like the rest of him. Did this guy have AIDS? I shuddered and Devon unloaded his second load in me. As Devon left, the new guy moved into position. Devon had been able to reach new depths when I changed to this position. This new guy also went deep from the first stroke. As he thrust away, his thrusts became more spasmatic and his panting grew labored. He leaned in and kissed me and to my amazement and disgust I started Frenching him back. He put his mouth beside my ear and licked. He whispered there is more to being Poz than a test result. And he groaned as his cock twitched in my hole. “Take my Full Blown Viral Load you beautiful boy”. As he came down from his cum, my legs and arms were tired from being bent into a U for multiple loads. As he disengaged and crawled up to push his death stick in my mouth, Leo was pressing my legs back up and entering my hole. He asked “Marine, do you keep your promises?” “Yes!” I shouted. “Good, because you never want a pissed off Marine that has you in such a vulnerable position”. Leo continued and spunked in my ass which by this time after the AIDS Skeleton had finished trying to get a rise from my cock had given up and stepped back to enjoy the show. My ass was a fluid mess. My cock which had been so hard at the start of this just a short time ago was holding on like a butterfly in a gale force wind. Leo came and left, replaced by other cocks. Some of these were people I did not recognize which would be understandable due to the darkness and circumstances the last time I was here. I lost count of the number of loads, but distinctly remembered at least 11 new people. Some of whom also stayed for a second round. I wondered if Leo was pulling random people off of the street to fuck me? This had to have lasted for hours but time was slippery. I looked at my watch which said 14:30, the succession of cocks ended. My T shirt had been used as a cum rag. I had choked a few times on large cocks but could not recall any panic moments, I put on my running shorts over my cummy ass and genitals pulling my board shorts over that. “Next Item on the agenda” Leo said, “Hope you are not too sore for a walk. Leave your B-Bag, it is fine where it is”. And we went off walking at an angle away from the Marine Barracks and Navy Yard area towards the DC Armory and RFK Stadium. I was carrying my shirt hoping it would dry out some. When we had walked almost a mile, I stopped in my tracks guessing our destination but could not fathom a reason why we were going towards Congressional Cemetery. Leo stopped and just looked at me. He said, “does your word mean so little to you”? He scoffed and turned continuing on. I considered walking away but eventually followed Leo through the gates. Leo’s stern demeanor was replaced by a tour guide/Docent personality. Those columns to our left are where the famous DC Madam and her sister are buried. She ran a whorehouse on what is now the Capitol Mall and serviced the sinners and pious politicians with equal vigor. We walked down the main drag and turned right at the Chapel. This was the old Parish Church and down here on the left is the famous Marine John Phillip Sousa who is supposed to have said that he can’t march if he can’t hear the boys in the band. I don’t know about that one, but he did say: ..” Dance as though no one is watching. Love as though you've never been hurt. Sing as though no one can hear you. Live as though heaven is on earth”.. This was the reason I had been hesitant to come here, I knew of this place because the Roadies would set up got the Marine Band here when they would do periodic in-Cemetery performances. Leo continued “I know why you do not want to enter a cemetery. Everyone has their demons, but you’re tilting at imaginary windmills. To fear a thing, is to give that thing power over you. There is power here, but it is not what you think. He motioned to walk back past the chapel. As we approached an intersection Leo continued. “There are plenty of Gays and Lesbians buried here as well as the rest of the LGBTQ+ community. There is no one father of the Gay Rights Movement, but several are right here on this corner. Leonard Matlovitch selected his memorial with care and selected the position to give a last fuck you to the government bureaucrats that made his life of service along with his fellow gay service members a living hell”. I looked and read his stone: “When I was in the Military, they gave me a medal for Killing Two Men and a discharge for loving one”.. Look up and few headstones and you will see the headstone of Clyde Tolson, man bro and constant man companion of J. Edgar Hoover who is a few more plots up this row. The pivot girl of the FBI has a fence around his plot - ostensibly to keep people from pooping on his grave. If you ask me, it would be a waste of poop. That small headstone is for one of the other fathers of the Gay Rights movement. PFC Kameny served in WWII. All in all, over 35 people have been buried here in the gay corner to reinforce the message that gay is good message. Leo spoke again “Across the path is the joint plot of Barbara Gittings and Kay Lahausen. Barbara was instrumental in getting the American Psychiatric Association to remove the criterion of homosexuality as being a mental disease or condition. Some of the people buried here died from AIDS or medical conditions arising from early HIV treatments and medications. I have been in your shoes, not willing to end it myself but otherwise living a self-destructive life. The object lesson here is that having a positive impact has nothing to do with any particular bug you might pick up. More young men have taken that advice and benefited from it than have ignored it. I would like to add you to my win Talley, but the choice is yours”. I walked back with Leo in silence leaking cum from my ass. Leo continued. “Some people I know plan out their poz bugchase and it is a beautiful thing, but once they catch it, they have to change gears and find a new goal. If however they work on exploring sex and/or relationships, mix in a little spice, and always push their limits there is always a new goal and a new motivation. These gays live positively regardless of HIV status”. That choice is yours. Thanks for enduring an uncomfortable walk, and an uncomfortable topic. What do you think”? I was silent for a bit, then asked Leo “do you think the guys can get another round of loads into my ass”? Which made Leo laugh. “That’s the Spirit! Gung Ho”. We went back to the group and I continued on into the bushes and lay back on my kit bag enjoying the last of the sun on my body. I would have kicked off my running shoes but I was so tired I thought I might have trouble getting them on again. There was a rustle in the brush and the AIDS skeleton came though. Hi Mike, I’m Doug, we met earlier in a biblical sense. I heard Leo introduced you to some of my friends at the Congressional. He knelt and straddled my chest, his cock on my lips, I hummed a uhhuh and opened for him and suckled. Doug’s voice was gentle and soft. “Leo says you are expanding your horizons as well as your hole. Would you like to explore more”? I bobbed my head yes. He rose, reversed and lowered his ass on my mouth. I was surprised and excited. My excitement grew as he leaned forward into a 69 position. His ass flexed and his cuntlips – (they could not have been confused with a rosebud anymore blossomed a bit). I sniffed and explored with my tongue, then pressed deeper. Doug started sucking harder I felt my legs being lifted from behind then held by Doug. Without seeing my other lover, as soon as his cock touched my asslips I knew it was Devon. I sealed my lips around Doug’s ring and started sucking the cum out of his hole. Doug shuddered and moaned, Yes baby, suck that toxic load out and make it your own. He gave a yip of delight as I started humming while rimming, running the edge of my tongue around the ruffled edges of his cunt lips. My senses were heady, the musk intoxicating, something inside my head was screaming in horror and revulsion, but for now, I was a cat lapping cream out of a cup. Devon said “looks like we got a new piggy, Oink”. Doug sucked harder pulling the dregs out of my balls and Devon shot his load as my ass involuntarily clenched. The train of cocks continued and I became dark. Lights came on pointed at the overpass and a bullhorn announced this area was being cleared and trespassers were subject to arrest. As soon as Doug rose up, Devons cock was gone from my ass. My heart skipped a beat, I experienced an adrenaline burst grabbed my PT shorts and jumped through the bushes opposite the activity. I scratched the hell out of my pecker, thighs and ass. I suppose I am lucky that I did not catch my nutsack on a post or stake. I was on the other side of the culvert, fell, rolled, jumped up and kept running. A block away I realized I was buck naked except for my runners and thanked god that I had not lost the shorts. I stopped, put on the shorts, and started a jog back to the sally gate. I thought my heart was going to jump out of my ribcage. ..Not the end..

You grabbed my balls and earned my spooge. You definably hit that spot....

Forgot to add, this is not the end.....

I'm back to what (for me) counts as normal. Working on home cumming weekend.

t4 AthWhore’s note: If you have reached this point you delt with my admin and medical shit. And that is not the half of it, I also bruised a rib dropping a bike. However, I am back up on the typing pony. I am but a sock puppet for these characters, but I do rather enjoy an arm up my ass. I baited you here with a promise of sex. I try to never break a promise, so enjoy the ride. … continued …”I was working my way up for another beer, got it, drank about half down and then - it happened. The cup was just coming down and I noticed an especially enticing chest with ripped abs and a treasure trail, but then I noticed its owner was looking back right at me, and I dropped my beer. I ducked down to fetch the cup to a couple of ‘hey watch it’ exclamations from guys who had been splattered. I remained ducked down cursing. Surely it was the beers and the rail drink, I slowly rose up and he was gone in the crowd. That is when I felt the tap and a loud voice that could be heard over the music. “Hey Marine, cum here often”? It was Andy. Fuck!”… Nothing in the Boot Camp Crucible had prepared me for this obstacle. Nothing in my education, training, experience, knowledge (not quite the same as education), or disposition had prepared me for hole I had dug for myself. I had thought I might be gay for a long time, I had realized I must be gay after talks with my Uncle, but I had been a practicing gay for only a few days starting with the loss of my virginity. I had no understanding of what my expression might be signaling to Andy or any other drinkers showing off their flesh. I was looking at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was there waiting for the dude to jump out and say smile you’re on candid camera! I was waiting for the GOTCHA! Andy was looking a little apprehensive, not like a predator who had captured its prey. In fact, his expression looked like my emotions felt – sheer startle! “This isn’t a setup”? I asked. “Dude, I mean Corporal, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell has not been reinstated as far as I heard, and far be it from me to suggest that a Marine who is senior to me is slow, No disrespect intended - but I thought you said the Navy had reported that you had survived your head injury? He was laughing now; his concern had vanished like a puff of smoke. Andy was right, I was slow. You mean… Yes sir, what are the chances two gay Marines from the same unit, the same barracks, and the same barracks room who sleep together but have never had sex with each other would show up here on shirtless men drink free night? Pretty damned likely I’d say! After a little bit absorbing the bizarre pill that I had just taken I realized I was laughing, Andy was laughing. A lot of things were suddenly funny. I told Andy he had made me drop my beer and that was funny. He said, “Well let’s get two more”! And we wormed to the bar service area through the man-flesh. Refueled and lubed with beer, we wormed over a bit to the wall. We were looking at each other, we both started to speak but aborted when they saw the other was starting to speak. The noise was incredible. For Vets who had PTSD, noise was sometimes a trigger, but I was not hearing a thing. I was falling into Andy’s Hazel Green Eyes. I was admittedly new to gay sex and for the last few days had thought I had experienced love. Up the ass it was true, but how was I to know? I was realizing my understanding of love was a … total misunderstanding. I kissed Andy. A press of the lips turned into a Frenching, which turned into him trying to suck the tongue out of my head. It looked like he was experienced at this, I tried to keep up learning along the way. I did not realize until it was over that this was my first man-kiss. Time was suspended only to come crashing back with an announcement that it was 11 O’clock, and making a few other burps of noise that we totally ignored. It was only as the dance music started, and crowd movement changed that we were brought back into this reality. Andy was taking charge since his stunned Corporal was still a little out of it. “Follow me Mike, let’s do a Head Call. Follow me and keep close”. Andy started moving through the crowd with me following in his wake. There was of course a line, but it seemed to be going fast enough. He looked behind me and said, “Flagging Right Pocket Blue I see”? “Flagging”? I responded. Andy came back with a question - “How long have you been at this if I might ask”? After a pause where I had to backtrack my calendar of impossible and improbable occurrences I replied back “five”. “5 what”? “Five Days”. He looked at me like I was pulling his leg, kept an eye on my frank expression. “Do you play poker”? “No” I replied, “this is not a bluff”? He stared at me intently. OK, you got me, you are either a master bluffer or you’re telling me the truth”. The line was at the door to the head, lets piss. The Head was cramped, and I so wanted to touch Andy but not in this place. I curbed my desire with glances and concentrated as well as I could on pissing before I got a hard on. It was already stiff from before and I had a stream like a fire hose and the pain of urination with a hard on was brutal. A thought occurred from Boot Camp Hygiene class or was it the Clap? Damn! I had not checked for messages from the clinic. When we were both finished, we squeezed out of the Head and went down the back stairs. Andy pointed to a picture frame with an old lithographic rendering. “That’s the old Trolley system going under Dupont Circle, my Grandfather said it was one of the cruisiest places in DC back in the day”. He continued “You want a pint or a rail drink”? I ordered a Blue Moon. Eventually Andy asked, “so you are freshly hatched, anybody I know”? “Unlikely” I replied. “OK, dish, who got your Cherry”? “You will keep it to yourself”? I hesitated and evaded but Andy finally got me to admit “The guys under the overpass”. “WHAT? Were you assaulted”? As I shook my head and looked down “You lost your Cherry to the TROLLS”? I just looked at him realizing what a mistake I had just admitted to and turned to leave. He grabbed me and I aborted my automatic physical response when I saw his expression had fallen into concern then horror as he realized his mistake. “Sorry Mike, really! But please realize that was quite a revelation. I don’t doubt it, who would say it if it were not so?” I squeezed my eyes shut; this could not possibly be happening. Andy said, “Let’s have another round”. As the night wore on and we drank more, we were both lit when Andy asked me: “Can I ask a few more questions”? My glance showed nothing suspicious, just concern so I nodded. “Have you been tested and gone on PEP? I nodded and said “yes, and then added, HIV Negative so far, and I have been afraid to look at the other results. They should be on my phone”. Andy digested this and said, “I’m not writing a log or anything but 12 guys seems to be a busy week”. “Weekend I corrected” Andy’s eyebrows rose but after my last reaction he changed the subject slightly. “Back to our earlier conversation, flagging Blue in the Right pocket means you are the Catcher, the Bottom, or if those terms are unfamiliar the Receiver who likes to get fucked”. I replied, “it is just my beach ditty bag”. “Well, you seem to be a prodigy knowing without learning, though this seems to simply be luck on your part. So, if you had a dozen cocks up your ass 5 days ago, I surmise your ass might be hungry for more”? I asked, “you want to take this back to the Barracks”? “Depends, Andy said, are you a screamer”? My blank look answered his question. “Best to not risk it Andy continued. Check your phone for your results please”. I looked at the message, but it was Greek to me. “May I” Andy Asked. He continued summarizing “HIV Neg but that can take weeks or more to trigger a stage called seroconversion and that is unlikely if you keep up with your PEP. Negative for the rest of the regular list, which leads me to my next inquiry – would you like to get some tonight”? “How, where”? I responded. “DC Still has a Bath House. Finish your beer”. We left down a different alley from the one I had used approaching the bar and zigzagged around to a traffic circle and turned again on 14th. He went into the CVS and grabbed 4 bottles of water, paid and once we got outside, Andy said “chug a bottle but keep the empty. DC used to be the capital of bathhouses excepting NYC. Shit there used to be one a block from the Whitehouse, The Olympic Baths. The seedy ones and the really naughty clubs were over by the far end of the original Navy Yard property where Nat’s Park is now. Grandad said it was hilarious that the Pope blessed the Nation from the site where the old Glory Hole and O street baths were”. We went Up 14th St NW and I asked “is it near the Clinic”? Andy said “somewhat, but that is farther up. Coincidental. Here we are”. He went through a generic looking street door just like thousands of others on the street. The vestibule had a pair of service windows. Andy went up to the free one and said “Two. Military discount lockers please” and handed over his ID and gestured for me to provide mine. Two lockboxes were slid through the window put your valuable in your box please. Andy told me to put my cell on airplane mode and did the same to his phone. We went through the inner door to the counter on the other side where we were given towels. Andy had been conversing with the counter attendant, and it appeared he was buying a bottle of lube. I had been feeling misgivings since the street, but realized that had been the point where I should have turned back. Beyond couches and medium lighting lounge areas you could see gym equipment but besides the combination of unfamiliar environments I was experiencing some unfamiliar sensations internally. I realized my dick was hard and my asshole was twitching. I became acutely aware that besides a manual release jerk off session in the Barracks Head, my nuts were churning with a full load. I was led into a locker room with benches. Andy spoke up: “Mike your eyes are as wide as saucers. I can tell this is your first time in a bath house. Here are some pointers - If someone is feeling you up and you are open to their touch, go for it. If not push their hand away”. He told me to strip and started doing so himself. “Still got your empty bottle? Leave it out as you stow your clothes”. Andy took a plastic nozzle out of his pocket and laid it on his towel. First thing, cleanout and prep. What you ate 24 to 72 hours ago affects your ‘end’ game as of now. Since this includes chow hall pasta, it is best to take care of this now. Take your bottle. Fill it with warm water (not hot) put this nozzle on the bottle, flush and repeat. Let’s go to the head” Andy had not yet wrapped up with his towel but let me to the bathroom where I cycled through this new experience while Andy held a stall open for me to go back and forth. After the deed was done, Andy put the nozzle and bottle in his locker and we went to the lounge area and sat on one of the couches. After a bit where it seemed he was looking inside my head, he leaned in and kissed me again. I felt his hands on my chest where he pinched a nipple, and I jumped. After a bit, he leaned back and said: “OK, I had not planned on playing tour guide tonight, but I suppose I drew the duty. Have you ever sucked anyone”? After I shook my head, he continued. “OK, you jumped to Advanced Placement studies. Important things to remember are covering your teeth, adjusting angle, and do not forget to breathe. Most guys like hummers but we can cover that at the Barracks. I see you do not suffer from ED as he glanced at my raging towel covered boner. First lesson is boner control. Summon a memory of an ugly lady from your past and that usually works”. It Did work! Andy continued. “If you happen upon a scene or sexual encounter, it is OK to watch, but don’t join in unless invited in. If you come to an open room door and get waived in, that invite is obvious. If you come up on a room door with a guy ass up, and don’t get a waive off they are usually looking to get fucked”. Andy moved onto a new topic. “Have you ever fucked anyone”? After I shook my head, Andy continued “Great, the bottoms will be happy about that”. Let’s go explore shall we”? I followed Andy and we went into the Steam Room where the water vapor steam was stifling. There was a group on the far bench gagging and slurping sounds from somewhere deep in the pile of guys. Andy waved me back out. “Sometimes, you can hang around a scene and get another one going, but let’s see what else is up”. We went to the Dry Sauna but no one was there. We padded up and down a few halls and found an open door. Any looked in and said “Hi Buddy as I joined them. Buddy, this is a friend, could you suck him a bit for me”? Buddy moved quick and my towel was on the floor and his wet mouth and throat had a good seal on my cock. He was pressing on my taint and gently kneading my balls. My body shifted from curious caution to moaning lust. Andy has checking his hole with a finger and then asked Buddy if he wanted my cock up his cunt. Again moving quickly, he spun and sheathed his ass on my rampart erection. I was a little hesitant, so he started humping back on my cock doing all the work. Andy’s voice prompted Buddy to pull off, flop back onto the tiny bunk and grab his ankles. I reinserted and Andy was coaching me to watch alignment, pull all the way out and slam back in. Buddy was whimpering in ecstasy. With one hand he grabbed Buddy’s dick and started wanking. Buddy started arching his back, toes and other extremities in orgasmic contortion. With his other hand, he shoved a finger up my ass past a spot that caused everything to explode. Buddy’s cumload spattered his face and the wall. I thought I had died and sagged driving my cock even deeper injecting the last of my load up his cunt. It took a while, but everyone came down from their Cum and slowly realigned with a semblance of normalcy. The finger up my ass was gone, but the quick intrusion had been both sharply stinging and thrilling. There was cum everywhere. I felt weak, different, satisfied, sated, and perhaps happy. Andy broke the mood by giving Buddy’s cock a last squeeze and saying, “thanks Buddy”. To me he said, “time to hit the showers”. This was definitely NOT a routine week for me. Trying to process everything that happened as I was taking a Hollywood Shower, Andy started a soapy rubdown on me. He said “You are playing catchup, but you cannot assimilate everything at once. But, while I am on the subject, what do you think? I stared at him blankly for a bit and admitted it was awesomely overwhelming. Andy turned off his shower head, “come on, there’s more”. We dried and wrapped our towels around our waists and Andy led the way down another corridor and turned into a dark opening in the wall. This gave way to dark space that varied between faint illuminations to pitch black. Further in, there were obstacles/objects that had small pools of light. Andy held my arm and stopped me, turning me into a kiss. For a moment, we were back in the bar where he was sucking my tongue out of my mouth. As the kiss continued, he tweaked my nipples making me gasp and then placed his hands on my shoulders gently pressing me down to my knees. In the dim light, I could just make out the outline of Andy’s uncut cock. It was maybe a little bigger than my 7 inches and was surrounded by a heady musky smell that was making my breathing difficult. A slight movement by Andy and his cock poked my cheek. I started an intake gasp, and it was in my mouth! I tried to remember to cover my teeth. And explored his foreskin with my tongue. He pressed deeper and my airway was obstructed. “Breathe through your nose” Andy advised. He then pulled out, reversing for a few minor thrusts as he did so. By this time, our OJT had attracted some onlookers. Andy steered me over to a padded fuckbench. “A few value added lessons – HIV is pretty slow normally, but there are other STI’s that are worth knowing about”. I realized the absurdness of the situation, was Andy really matter-of-factly discussing STI’s in a Bathhouse Darkroom? If anything, the press of the crowd increased. Andy continued like he was delivering a practiced training plan. You get a Mercer Staph infection up the ass, your days are numbered in days, not years, not months” Andy pushed me over the fuckbench. “You allergic to latex? Speak up now”. However, I could not speak as my mouth now had a pierced cock with god knows what kind of hardware attached invading past my tonsils into my throat. Andy Continued (as he was pressing a lubed thumb up my chute– “I am a Pitcher, I mostly fuck only military, your hole has had some questionable visitors in the past week. You may also find that pain is often the flip side of the pleasure coin. The cock with the hardware was slowly removed . I saw it belonged to a gym stud in leather chaps. The metal of his piercings caught what little light there was and transmitted a message of pain and destruction via little flickers of light as photons danced on his jewelry. His cock was replaced with a big black cock that became a real challenge for my air supply. Andy inserted his cock and the lube could not mitigate the shock and trauma from the friction of the intruding cock. Andy was taking slow thrusts pressing me forward, My PTSD thought I was back in the helicopter drowning, gasping for air every time it became available. My ass was clenching around the latex intruder. Andy lay across my back whispering unintelligible instructions in my ear while thrusting away. Then, Andy screamed in distress and surged forward plugging my throat with the BBC. I felt the condom snap as Andy fire Hosed his cum up my clenching ass. I felt the BBC owner flinch as I shot ejaculate under the fuckbench and once I was able to undock from what had to be 8 or 9 inches I was able to turn as see that Andy was being rough fucked by the hardware-laden leather gym bunny who yelled “take my Toxic Load you Jar Head”!

My ass is a-quiver for more!

Wonderful!

The superhuman strength of a muscle in times of need or stress. It can be the strength of a man lifting a car off of an accident victim. It can be the strength of perseverance to carry on as the universe closes in. or It can be the clench of a college age sphincter around the cock of a fuck buddy as you are bent over your motorcycle in the family garage and the garage door opener is activated by your mom returning from the grocery store.

AuthWhores Note: My apologies, I did get out in front of my skis some. I noticed a down vote and must say I concur. I'll see if I can not do better next string. I also realized I had jumped ahead of the real calendar but a day by day of even a sex crazed, chem fueled POZ college slut could actually have boring parts. When I was querying the very patient moderators, I got the answers and guidance I needed to avoid a faux pas, but then realized that it concerned Homecumming and Halloween and that is still off on the horizon Homecumming is nominally in September and Haloween some 6 weeks later. There was also my lubrication error. No, not in the story but while I was thinking about the story I no-shit slipped on my wd-40 nut loosener spill on a trailer deck and whacked my forehead on the driveway yesterday, -just like a few years ago attending the Leather Knights Dallas AWOL weekend, I had a free ticket to the Dallas Discipline Corps Warehouse Play space and again got ahead of my skis. My slutty mind distracted me from the task at hand. What happens when you mix a rushed cleanout and lubrication effort? Well, in that case it was a cracked rib. I still went and got flogged - after all I had the free ticket - and the flogging was delightfully painful! I will bring Sticky Situation up to Homecumming, and then pause for a couple of weeks. On my other story, there is still some work needed before I get to pit stop territory so you should see that also post next week/weekend. Cheers!

Yes, I have a really communicative expert at the Veterans Administration (The VA is like Orwell's Animal Farm, some good some bad actors) but this guy was on the ball when the fast track gave me prep vs pep. He may have saved my life, certainly my ass. English was not the original nurses language so I became concerned when she could not explain the difference in medication to me (which I at least knew). He stepped up and all I had to do was deal with traffic in my rushed return to the DCVA Medical Center. Further, I saw him on Tuesday and his humorous comment makes me wonder if he is a Breeding Zone User or Lurker (if so, I love you and my ass is yours). My ass is aquiver with the possibilities. So, if I might nick one of his comments: "If PrEP was 100% effective, we would not need to test you for HIV periodically, we would just check your liver and kidney function". His other comment was: "If you skimp on dosing and have an exposure, you could breed a resistant strain". Now, fictionally and in my kink moments - being the birth mother to a super strain (is) kinda hot in a twisted sort of way, but would I actually want to be the patient zero birth mother to the next epidemic? That answer is a firm no. However, it is OK to dream. My fantasy eggs are fertile for your seed.

Ditto, Let us know how it went. It can be mind expanding.

AuthWhores note: Fear not, I love this story as it has taken me over and has me addicted to the thread. I am obviously a nutcase for running two stories at once. But some things that occur to me but will not work in one thread seem to fit right into the other. - So it is possible, very possible that someone is pulling my strings (or I am a sock puppet for a powerful being). The ends have already been written, spinoffs mapped, but I have a lot of dots to connect before then. I plan to have a nice pause point in the can before I go to California for Labor Day. Cali is a technical heaven but I do not know what hotspot coverage is like near Big Bear. Watch the skies! S4 Sticky Situation - continued: I had planned to take it easy on Sunday. It was 7 days till homecoming weekend, the next week was going to be hectic. I had left the alarm off, stashed a granola bar under my pillow, and after previous trips to the Forbidden Fairy Forrest where I was so sore I found it difficult to move, I had a wide mouth piss bottle under the bed Originally for Tea (the cold Kind) it was a useful tool to help avoiding pissing the bed when I was wacked out or coming down from the other T in my life. I was aware of pain, lots of pain I cried out in anguish and levitated up out of the bed Barry’s teeth scraping my cock which made me yell even louder. A startled Barry was Looking at me like a Racoon caught in the trash can. “What were you doing to me”? I blurted. Barry's response was a smooth “Ty told me to take care of you and I was sort of looking for another sperm bank deposit, but I could not get it hard”. I replied “No Kidding, it was tired and had retired for the night. I don’t know if it will ever work again”! My heart calmed some. At least I was not being eaten alive by a serial killer and I shuddered remembering fleeting scraps of a nightmare on that exact topic. Is that the only reason you are in my room? “Well, Barry replied, you know my friend Frank, you met him in the shower the other day, well, we have been sucking each other off but he wants to get fucked and…I thought of you. I looked at Barry’s stubby little dick. It was cute as a button, but I now saw the problem. “Are you pimping me out Barry”? “No, No, nothing like that, I am a total Bottom and not equipped to Top. He has had nothing up his butt except my finger, just helping out a Teammate of Ty’s”. I asked does he know you call him that”? Barry gulped and corrected to Tyrone. “Alright, but he has to say so and it cannot be before Wednesday” now get out of here. I grabbed a towel and padded to the showers. I was planning what was left of my day, there were going to be two papers due at then Semesters end plus finals. The next week and a half were going to be hectic so I would lay in the sun on the quad for an hour or two and start the outlines. One thing was for sure; college was weird. I walked like an old man that Monday, but things started loosening up after a visit to the Hydrotherapy Bay. Coaches warning did not merit a thought. I could not get enough of a rise to wank. Monday night I was feeling very unbalanced. My cock still wanted nothing to do with me, but my ass was loudly exclaiming its need for seed. When Ralph swaggered in from wherever. I asked him if he would do me a solid? Sure he replied. I knelt down, bulled down his shorts and started sucking. As I paused to get some air, I used my breaths to also utter – would you please fuck my brains out? And dived back down. Ralph said “I’m newer than you to this gay thing but is this normal? I could not help laughing and he uttered a wait! And popped his load. I released his load back onto his cock as nice as the load would have tasted, flipped into a missionary position and grabbed my ankles. “Please” was my plea. OK, if you insist. His cumload lubed a quick breach of my hole and he started thrusting. Ralph continued, “You know, even for gay roommates, this has to be pretty abnormal”. As he picked up the pace. “You know, I have never heard of a laughing hummer but it was rather nice. I replied just please shut up and fuck. It took him a bit for his second load, but he eventually unloaded with a shout. (had he been seeding elsewhere earlier?) Ralph, it’s not like were dating, but would you like to be my Plus1 at the Black Frats Friday and Saturday after homecoming festivities and the games? “Sure, let me know. Rooming with you is never boring”. He grabbed a Towel and headed to the showers. By the time Tuesday night rolled around and I had again melted my muscles in the Hydrotherapy Bay I had concluded I might just survive the Semester. Wednesday Morning I not only felt balanced, but it seems my pecker might be returning to normal. I had Morning Wood! Cheerfully, I had a spring in my step as I went to the cafeteria for breakfast. A lot of students were skipping classes this close to homecoming, but I decided it would be foolish to skip. As I sat in class, my sexual drive was repairing itself and finding new hunger. I recalled Barry and I had arranged a date for my Stud Services which still made me a little uncomfortable. Damn, I had forgotten to let Ralph know.. Well, maybe we could tag team. Barry might have a little pecker but was blessed with a fuckably tight ass and a golden mouth. I was a little curious about his tongue. I might just have to demand a RIM fee. I felt my hole throb with my pulse. I might just flip fuck Frank as well; he had a decent sized cock. The week was looking up! A little Hydrotherapy and I was walking to the showers with a boner and noticed several of the coaching staff throwing frowns in my direction. I apologized and said it just had a mind of its own. I went to my locker and dressed. I trotted back over to the dorms and looked for Ralph. I told him I have a ‘date’ tonight but he was welcome to join in. I had messaged Barry he would need to provide any favors as a discussion between Frank and himself. I was providing the charity from my Balls and might demand more than just a tight ass in return. When Barry and Frank arrived, the room was crowded with Ralph and myself already semi-hard. Frank was fidgety and nervous. Both had on running shorts and nothing else. I told both of them they were overdressed and as their shorts dropped, I realized I should have specified they also wear jocks. Well, I was not an expert. The Poz Parties followed some obscure criteria, and the Fairy gatherings were cum as you are. I directed Barry to rim Frank while Frank was lightly sucking Ralph. Frank was now receiving his ass rimming doggy style. I was careful to not overstimulate myself willing my load would go where no man had gone before. Nominally, my first Virgin. Barry had messaged me they would not be using favors first round. Frank was going in eyes wide open. I put a dollop of Elbow Grease on my rod as Barry moved aside but repositioned to watch and record video with his phone. My ass had many miles on it, but as a Top, it was amateur hour. It is understandable that I would not pass on guidance I had never learned, so rather than telling Frank to push out, I hilted as if I was entering an experienced ass. As Frank howled. Ralph said “easy Richard, hold it there a minute and let him get used to it”. Franks incoherent muttering notched down to groans and moans. I started slow thrusting. Straight males rarely cared where a girls buttons were. As a gay man, I was at least aware where the male buttons were. I adjusted my angle to hit that spot every so often which usually increased Franks vocal volume. I pulled out and said “On your Back”. Frank disengaged from Ralph, flipped over and stated sucking Ralph again. I adjusted his angle with my body weight and reentered locking my arms on his thighs to get the right angle and maximum depth. Love Button impacts were now a pressure event going in and pulling out. I remembered from Burt’s workshops that when you had the angle right, the bottom can be driven senseless by pulling out all the way, yet their hole is correctly positioned for the inward thrust which twangs the ass ring like a harp string. I was thrusting a little faster watching Franks face. I leaned forward his eyes were closed. I kissed him and his eyes popped open and then he startled clenching his ass ring as there was a loud knock on the door. Frank in his new position sucking Ralph froze. Ralph dare not make any sudden moves with a novice cock sucker on his pole, so Barry opened the door, there was quite a crowd in the hallway, the wing RA was standing there in shorts and flipflops. He said please turn your stereo down, people are trying to listen to your show. Frank Came, his hole clenched, I came filling Franks boycunt and Frank gave a muffled yell at whatever reaction or reflex Frank had passed on to Ralph. Barry did not change expression. “Sure thing sir” and there was scattered applause from the hall. Barry turned the stereo down and closed the door muffling the whoops that had started with the applause. …not the end….

AuthWhores note: Fear not, I love this story as it has taken me over and has me addicted to the thread. I am obviously a nutcase for running two stories at once. But some things that occur to me but will not work in one thread seem to fit right into the other. - So it is possible, very possible that someone is pulling my strings. The ends have already been written, spinoffs mapped, but I have a lot of dots to connect before then. I plan to have a nice pause point in the can before I go to California for Labor Day. Cali is a technical heaven but I do not know what hotspot coverage is like near Big Bear. Watch the skies!

Auth-Whores Note: The fair warning on PTSD suffers applies. If you are like me (sometimes) and surf through till the sex starts then scan through till the next section. If you are a civilian, a Sister Service Vet, or a Marine who appreciates just how much the universe fucks with us, this section is for you. Hopefully T4 will make up for any missing pecker tracks in this section. Enjoy. .Continued... T3 My Uncle was saying something about going towards the light but someone else kept interrupting him. The rude interrupter was saying look at the light, follow the light with your eyes but the light was waving left and right, up and down. I felt like I was going to hurl. I closed my eyes and mumbled ‘enough already’. There were people around me, it looked like the interruptions were coming from a guy in a lab coat. Do you know where you are? I hazarded a guess “flat on my ass in the clinic”? I closed my eyes again and started a sit up. Woah Marine, just lay back, I’m going to get your vitals again. “Mike, can you see this paper? Please sign it if you can”. “How do you know my name”? The guy in the lab coat pointed at the form. “My name is Dr. Burroughs, it looks like you are back with us now. Your episode was a real attention getter in the reception area, great way to move to the head of the line but I know now it was not an act. Normally, you would be in a DC Fire Ambulance right now, but when one of our staffers looked at your paperwork and found your Common Access Card, he realized you would likely put up a fuss. I noted some indications of dehydration. Your ripped state is another thing. Normal derm fat is a natural shock absorber for more than just your ass so I broke a rule and stuck you with a saline IV. Now, there are some rules I have to follow and cannot break, and he asked a series of questions as to date, time, place, who my Commander in Chief was, etc. One more question, have you been thinking of harming yourself or others? I answered no, but could not avoid the pause (which he of course noted); and you are here for? “PEP!, I need PEP!” I blurted. Ok, there are some unanswered questions here, Do you know the HIV and or other STI status of the partner that prompted you to come in and when did this encounter happen”? “Maybe HIV positive and day before yesterday” I answered. Doc Continued “And the number of encounters”? I just stared blankly at him. “Mike, can I call you Mike? I really should know, it could have a pertinent bearing. Was it more than One”? I nodded. “Two”? I glared. “Three”? I hung my head and said “12, OK? Twelve but some of those were more than once. Happy now”? The doc looked at me and said “Mike, this is serious, if you were assaulted, I need to know. I also served and thank you for your service by the way, I should have said that earlier. You are not the first Marine to seek our services and you will not be the last, but if you were assaulted, I have to know”. “NO! I was NOT assaulted”. OK, easy, lets do a few things here. He turned to his assistant and asked for a kit. There are a couple of rapid tests for HIV, for an exposure like this it will only show if you have HIV antibodies now. Lay your hand flat on the counter please. This is only a little prick and he proceeded. The other type of rapid test is a swab of your cheek. Because of other possible exposures, we are going to do a comprehensive STD kit. Any time we do an IV, we normally do a small draw of blood for these testing purposes, the pull we normally do when doing an IV in situations like yours - namely passing out will suffice. Even if some of the flush is in the sample, the lab can see what it needs to. I see you are shaking some, is this normal for you”? I shook my head. “No? It is understandable. Some information and situational realizations can cause shock. From what you have told me so far, I believe this qualifies. I need you to use this cup and try to get more than a half inch of urine in it. He handed me a sample cup, two packages and two test tubes. This is an oral swab holding a package, it is a stick with a swab. This one does not go between check and gums, this needs to touch the back of the throat. Be slow and gentle. You don’t want to poke around back there. You could gag or poke into tissue. It goes in cotton swab first to the back of the throat. Once done, remove it, stick the swab end into this tube (careful, it has a solution in it that can spill), snap off the extra stem that does not fit in the tube and recap it. Same thing on the other swab but it goes up your butt. Take your time you do not want to cause any additional trauma. He pointed me to the restroom, and I did the sample cup and the swabs. As I returned, the Doc continued. We’ll have these results back Tomorrow or Friday morning. Now, for PEP, there is funding via a government/pharma partnership for Post Exposure Prophylaxis. For individuals who engage in risky sex, or have a protective measure like a condom break on them there is Post Exposure Prophylaxis PEP. That has to be administered within a short time window after exposure. It has been found to inhibit HIV from replication and helps the body in reducing exposure and preventing infection that overwhelms the body’s defensive immune system. We are towards the end of the window where these have been shown to be effective, so here is a cup of water I want you to take one of these pills now and he watched me take it. He handed me the bottle. This is a 30-day regimen. After that, we can transition to Pre Exposure measures which contain a lighter dosing of what you have minus the added binary meds. PEP is a binary combination of PrEP and a stronger medication. This can be confusing but your paperwork will include an information pamphlet. Read it please! You take one pill a day for 30 days. Your info on your intake form is correct? Yes?, you will be called if another STI/STD is detected that merits Doxy or other Treatment. Those treatments are only used when needed since unnecessary antibiotic prescriptions can breed resistant infection strains. If needed, you will get a prescription notification by Tomorrow or Friday at latest. We need to schedule you to come back for another STI Comprehensive test in two weeks. We will check liver and kidney function and compare it to the baseline that will be generated by this current round of testing. You will get your initial bottle of PrEP to start only after the PEP regimen is finished. I know this is a lot to absorb. In particular, this organization was started to assist people when confronted by overwhelming medical, psychological, social challenges and stigmas. While not a necessary component of PEP after action treatment there are highly recommended counselling resources that we offer as well as the extensive Patient Care Team Coordinators at the Veterans Administration for LGBTQ+ and Gender Diverse Veterans. Marines live by acronyms, but the Doc had said Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, and questioning along with gender and diverse. I was unable to recall it ever being said before directed in m y direction. My mind wandered - Had I really asked my Uncle to Poz me? Had I used the term privately or mentally? I started to feel a flush of heat as I turned red. Had I asked a man to fuck me harder under the overpass? “Mike? The doc asked. You look a little flush. As I said the enormity of processing this type of information besides the possible infection exposure is significant. When added together, it can be overwhelming. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you will follow the PEP regimen. Countless lives and collective losses to all humanity are wrapped up in this band aid bottle. Will you follow the regimen without deviation? I looked him in the eyes and replied “yes Doctor”. Doc continued “Second to last thing, some (not all) people taking this medical regimen experience varying degrees of gastrointestinal discomfort and or results. There is a lot wrapped up in these tablets. You can pick any time of day to take your dose, but I recommend taking your dose at bedtime or dinnertime to minimize the effect during the day. Now, last thing. How did you get here? When he learned that I had walked, he suggested a taxi or transportation service. All this concrete is a glaring solar oven even on nice days. Outside, Mike looked at his phone shading the screen from the glare. He headed towards the National Mall. There was beauty and history in a capitol vista surrounded by the mundane. One location that was on his to-see list was the Smithsonian museum campuses on the Mall. Mike was never really into Dinosaurs and core required studies in high school besides math and sports were sort of boring. Unthinking he went to the Air and Space Museum but reversed and exited hastily. What was he thinking? It had been hard enough to board a commercial flight to DC, unthinkingly going inside the A&SM, he was back in the water, in the dark, unable to help or render aid to his officers, not looking out for his crewmate, knocked senseless and not even able to help himself. He sat in the shade and eventually the shakes faded away and he felt better. Post incident counselling was not optional in any branch of the DoD, so Mike knew this was survivors’ guilt along with a complete seabag full of troubles. He had been trained in techniques and issued tools to mentally allow him to continue to do his duty. But today, he was off duty, he had done what he intended to do and was faced with the monumental choice of ‘what now’? Mike was a checklist sort of person by training and he was already in the Department of Veterans Affairs local VISN computer as a result of his medical hold. An impulse prompted him to take the advice given to him at the clinic. He called the VISN-5 DC VA Medical Center Main Line and asked for the LGBTQ+ PACT Coordinator number. The operator kept asking what? Even with his previous shakes this was a topic of ‘normality’ and settled him down further. He was used to getting the run around. He said thanks and hung up. A quick google search and he had a point of contact. He dialed the number mentally composing his voicemail and was startled when a human answered. He rearranged his questions: Is this the Gay PACT Coordinator for DC Region? She answered yes. I’m a Veteran and was told you might have some counselling or group sessions available? I’m already in your system. Can I get your last name and last 4 of your SSN please? Mike knew to remain polite; he had heard horror stories of VA staff retaliating against Vets by reporting them for disruptive behavior. Mike took a deep breath and asked again, first, I would just ask, “are those programs even available”? He felt he might already have the answer with her non-answer. She replied, “many of our Vets have requested such services and we are looking into it”. I countered, “how long has this been”? “Since the Obama Administration” she replied. Thank you and I hung up. I was wondering if I had just screwed up and my phone rang showing Washington DC Medical Center. I exclaimed Fuck! Which got me some looks by passersby and declined the call. It rang again and I blocked the number. I had not provided my name and certainly not the last 4 of my SSN, but I was enough of a geek to know my name was on my voicemail and realized my info was also attached to my phone number so I blocked theirs before they could leave a Message or hear my greeting. Today was not going so well. Marines who do drugs often become former Marines or felons. But there was the vice that had started this rodeo, I could use a beer or maybe a dozen. I googled DC Gay Bars and saw clubs that would not open for many hours, but one jumped out at him as being off of the beaten path. Following phone navigation, the tag line was correct. In the middle of a city block was a tiny brick building with parking, office and an apartment buildings on all 4 sides. He went in and it looked at first like any bar in an old repurposed building. There was a four-sided bar in the middle and stairs leading upstairs. A tired popcorn machine reminded Mike he had skipped chow the night before and had been too distracted to eat breakfast that morning. Probably, it was why he did a dirt dive at the clinic. He scooped a bag of popcorn, ordered a Blue Moon, devoured the popcorn, sucked on and ate the Orange and then chugged the beer. He asked for some ice water, very little ice, heavy on the water and ordered another beer. The water helped. The beer helped. He was able to remember happy times at the beach in Pensacola, trading comments with his classmates on girls in bikinis and the crass jokes Marines always had on tap. Thinking of girls in bikinis, his eyes drifted to a poster of a ripped stud – ‘Shirtless Men Drink Free - Thursdays 10:00 to 11:00’. The ‘crowd’ consisted of 6 people but new patrons were streaming in after work for happy hour. Mike had been paying as he went Forgetting to close a bar tab always resulted in a penalty regardless of what type of bar it was. Eventually Mike realized the bartender was asking a question. Another one? You, OK? Mike came to awareness, yes please, one more Blue Moon and a water and cut me off. Can you tell me about the shirtless night? He looked at my high and tight then back to my eyes. “Been going on for decades, that and underwear night”. The cups are moderate sized but the price is free. You keep up sliding the dollar tips and they’ll take really good care of you. His attention turned back down the bar and I finished my water and beer. I distractedly gave the thin bartender a wave when he was close enough, I said “another please” and he responded, I would love to take your money, but when a Jar Head tells me to cut him off, I consider it to be inspired words of wisdom from a Marine who knows when to say when. You want another water? No Thanks and thank you for looking out for me. I slid him another tip and walked out. Every Marine gets a taste of Squad Bays. For Enlisted men, this starts in Boot Camp and might or might not continue past Recruit Training into the Specialty Occupation training. That first visit to San Diego or Parris Island washes away the basic civilian concept or any punk expectation of privacy. Privacy to chill, privacy to think, privacy to masturbate, privacy is not appreciated until it is lost and then it hits hard. Mikes ‘A’ School in Pensacola where Marines Train side by side in integrated classes with Male and Female Sailors and Marines is a bit unique. Once a Marine Graduates Boot Camp having earned their EGA they are expected to act like Marines (but with a necessary amount of guidance). Sailors at Pensacola are limited in their ability to wear civies until they get some more guidance in A School. Housing billets for single enlisted service members in a garrison environment, or in a school environment can range from several roommates assigned to a room, down to a typical number of two occupants depending on rank and other factors. The era of the facility (when it was built) and how many renovations have occurred since then is a big factor in how many occupants to a room and the pairing up roommates. Senior officers and Senior Enlisted would normally have their own room. Middle and junior Marines would normally be paired with a Marine of equal rank when the room housed two but this did not always work out so well in fluid units and sections like medical hold. Back at the Barracks, I reflected that no matter how many renovations occurred, a squad ready room was necessary in cramped barracks. Yes, with laptops and TV’s in rooms, personal selection of streaming video or music was fine in your own room, but these rooms were necessary for a host of other things such as required training in sexual harassment and other subjects was known as ‘mandatory fun’. Tonight, they were streaming Kelley's Heroes with Clint Eastwood, Telley Savalas, and other stars. Marines love heckling Army movies. As I sat and watched for a moment some lines stuck in my head where the Oddball Tank Commander who I remembered from Animal House was chastising his mechanic crewmember who for some reason I recalled played the Love Boat Captain about never thinking positive thoughts. “Always with the Negative Waves Moriarty” when later lines again contained the words ‘Positive Thoughts’, I fled the rec room back to my room. I was trying to clear my head of sexual distractions the world kept throwing my way only to burst in on my naked roommate. I averted my eyes lest I be caught looking at things I should not. “What’s chasing you Mike”? Andy my Lance Corporal Roommate asked. He was a senior E-3, and normally I would be paired with another E-4 but we both tended to wake up yelling from dreams where we were drowning. So, this factor made us a roommate match. Andy had survived an Amphibious Combat Vehicle accident and in the few words we had shared he had been as helpless as I had been during my helicopter dunking. We both had agreed to not talk about it by simply avoiding the subject except for an occasional ‘dude, you OK?’ after a nightmare was marked by another scream waking his roommate. Besides that, I had a real situation developing. I had rarely gone this long a time without rubbing out a load since I graduated Recruit Training. I was careful as a classmate had been caught jacking off and he had the double bad luck of having a last name of Bates. He flunked out of the aviation training track a nervous wreck after a few weeks of Gangway or Clear a path for Master Sgt Bates. I’m not saying it was not funny, but I did not want to experience what he did Firsthand, so to speak. As for the catcalls that would follow me around if it became known I had taken on a bakers dozen of homeless trolls in a gangbang under the bridge was painful even as speculation and I tried not to think about it. With Andy in the room, my doing a ‘manual release/systems check’ in bed was impossible and I was afraid to perform a manual release in the Head for fear someone might hear. I was not certain I could stay silent. Just thinking about masturbation had my no longer virgin asshole throbbing. And my cock felt like it could shatter at the merest touch. Trying to keep my dirty mind in its sandbox and away from Images of Andy naked in our room, or the shirtless men drink free poster, I felt ready to explode. I tried thinking of girls at the beach in Pensacola, but those images always had hot guys nearby. I continued through my catalogue of memories until I remembered some church lady types and my boner fled. Keeping my hygiene kit ready if I needed to hide my boner again. I returned to my room. Andy was crashed in his sack snoring and I breathed a sigh of relief. There was a whiff, maybe a hint of ammonia smell. Had Andy jerked off during my torment? Bastard! Thursday morning, after pooping out an apparently multi-colored aquatic sea monster sponge which freaked me out a bit - I stepped on the scale in the shower room it showed 150 Lbs. Normally maintaining or losing weight is what we Marines strive for, but considering the path my ass had been skipping down lately with HIV+ Trolls it is call for some concern. Or maybe it was just lack of appetite and some shame and embarrassment plus forgetting to hydrate? I looked in the mirror, was I wasting or was I ripping? I wrestled with my imagination. Wasting into an AIDS Skeleton after half a week? That was horror movie stuff. Regardless, I selected a big breakfast in the chow line. Then I struck off back to the clinic to see what kind of counselling was available. I had no plans for dinner, so I went ahead and popped my PEP dose for the day. I was considering the VA info no matter how incompetent or inept they had seemed the day before but first I would try the clinic. I grabbed my beach bag that was basically a drawstring bag of lightweight blue nylon but had extra cords and could be worn like a knapsack with civvies and egressed the barracks before the muster. Corporals hanging around the Ready Room often got tasked with something, leave or no leave. I stopped by the 7-Day store/Marine Mart and bought some Gatorade and some bottled water and shoved them in the bag where an Amazon blister package would keep them cold longer. This time at the ground floor clinic entrance he was more confident and asked for the counselling intake section, that I had a referral and intake paperwork was started. Income – I had my Leave and Earnings Statement on my phone, I marked and noted in my history section my PTSD, Death of Family/Loved Ones, Sexual Trauma but then I scratched that out. Rather than just male/female selections there was a section on identity and pronouns. Mike was starting to think this might not be such a good idea. Medical History, Drug History, Alcohol, Emergency Contact I left blank. On an unscheduled visit, without an appointment I was prepared to wait for a long time but when I was called, it had been less than an hour. I saw I was being called by a thin man in Khakis and a polo shirt with close cut hair. That’s me and stood. “Great, My name is Logan, please follow me” and we went into in inner office cubicle with no windows. My discomfort was noted and Logan said “I know this is a little cramped, do you have a history of claustrophobia”? “Some, but this is fine” I replied. Logan Continued, “and how do you prefer to be addressed? You know my name and I identify as male”. While Logan was casually going through some papers, my expression change was noted. My thoughts changed from the internal comment ‘but was born Female’? To ‘Careful Mike’! I took breath, “Mike is fine”. “Mike, first I must cover a few guidelines. Everything you say here is strictly confidential, but there are exceptions and those are thoughts of self-harm or harming others. Have you ever desired to go to sleep and never wake up”? Mike took a deep breath and said, “Yes and no, and it was already medically noted in my medical records. I was in an aviation training accident. Both pilots were lost, I suffered head and other orthopedic injuries and would have also died if my crewmate had not saved me. Yes, I was depressed, Yes, I wondered why I survived, Yes, I have been diagnosed with PTSD. I’ve been told I am handling it ok and certainly would not be sitting here talking to you if I had previously thought of harming myself” It was at this point, I realized I had just likely screwed myself. Logan had been looking at me and allowed me to run-on without interruption. I wound down and finished off with “and my Gay Uncle just died”. Logan paused for a bit and said “That is a lot, I’m sorry for your loss, but there is also the matter of your asking for a regimen of Post Exposure Prophylaxis. You stated you were not assaulted but did not elaborate”. Shit, here it comes Mike thought. “Were these partners known to you or anonymous”? Mike realized the Devil was always in the details. “What would happen if I were to say I’d prefer not to say”? “Mike, this is not an interrogation, and unless you say the magic words it will not be an investigation. I can see the obvious that this is not a comfort area for you. Let me add another question. Do you regret some of the paths you have taken”? “Logan, to be honest, I really cannot say. It is not that I will not, but until you asked the question - it was not even on my checklist. These situations, these feelings, it is all so new to me I have nothing to measure it against”. Logan said, “that is an answer, there are no best answers, but it seems to be an honest one. You might benefit from a group that does have openings. This is a group that helps navigate the stresses of same sex discovery and there are group members who generally fit that situation when they discover they are not heterosexual”. Logan continued on as I took a breath – “that is a generalization, there are some military members of the group, but they are generally not dealing with PTSD. Without having access to your military medical records, we would not want to overlap treatments already in progress. Perhaps a group like this introductory one will allow the group leader to do further assessments and it might enable you to realize you are not the first person to seek help in discovering where you are and where you are going. That you are seeking counselling says a lot about your intelligence, your stability, and your desire to choose the best path forward. That group meets on Thursdays at 6 PM here on this floor. Will that work”? At my nod, he continued. “Here is some counselling you did not ask for. The days of Military Don’t Ask Don’t tell are over but this type of thing can change nearly overnight. There is nothing illegal about being LGBTQ+, but you might want to get a PO Box unless you want clinic mail going to your unit. Thank You for your service. I also served, but I realize some of these details get missed when you are thinking about bigger things. Now, the Business office has processed your paperwork you turned in. The PEP Treatments and tests are covered by grants and community program funds. Fortunately, or unfortunately for you, E-4’s over 3 years in service make more than they used to, it is at least above the poverty rate. The Business Office has assigned a Co-Pay of $10/visit. Is that doable”? I nodded yes. Today’s intake is covered. Next Thursday, I would recommend a check but cash can be taken. Now, just to summarize, this intake was based on the info and questionnaire response info you provided. To make sure you did not omit anything, and we did not miss anything, there is no question concerning gender identity”? I was shaking my head no. “At the end of the 30 day regimen of PEP, you will transition to PrEP. The Post Exposure is covered by a health program. The PrEP is under a different program. I would recommend checking with the pharmacy today or before your Two Week return visit for labs and sign up for the Manufacturers program for discounted PrEP. It brings the costs down considerably. People in the Midwest often have to pay a bundle for dosing. On the flip side – with the manufacturers program, a 30 day regimen via our pharmacy comes out to a couple of dollars a day. This might sound complicated, and time consuming but these small ounces of prevention are worth a pound of cure when you consider the regimen side-effects that HIV Anti-Virials pose. Here is a card, if you have further questions or find yourself in a questioning mode you can call the number there. If you are in crisis, the 988 number is on the card as well. Any other questions”? I shook my head and thanked uh, I was still having pronoun confusion… Logan. I killed some time, drank my Gatorade before it got super hot and was chasing it with water. I was not going to be able to handle yawning around Washington DC NW Quadrant for over 10 hours. The bar where on Thursdays Shirtless Men Drink Free was just a few hundred Yards away but was also more then 10 hours in time away. Some of the things Marines learn to do in almost any location, under pleasant or difficult conditions are: Sleep (impractical); Game (just the cell phone); Horseplay (who with?); Jack Off (In DC, In Public? YGBKM); PT (The only real alternative). I walked down to McPherson Square Metro Station past where my Uncle said the hookers (boys and girls) would hang out in Franklin Park. The DC Metro Rail System is still a big deal. My Uncle said it was a big mess when they were digging up half the city to replace the old Trolley system. There are many ways to get to Arlington from where I was in NW DC but only three were sensible. I could cross the bridge over the Potomac where Air Florida had crashed in the 80’s and near where the Army had downed PSA American Eagle Flight 5342 with a Black Hawk Via the long bridge walkway in January. I could ride the Metro across the metro rail bridge just a football field or two away from those same spots; I could take a Cab or Uber; or I could ride Metro under the river via Rosslyn. All of these choices were a little nuts for a Marine that had survived an Aviation Water Ditch. For some crazy reason, closing my eyes and enduring the ride seemed to make more sense underground thru the tunnel under the river rather than across the bridge. No wonder I was on medical hold. A Marine afraid of an amphibious crossing of a river and landing in Virginia was of no use to Corps or Country. I took a deep breath and chose the tunnel route. I got off of the appropriately named Blue line at Arlington National Cemetery. I did not go in. Chesty Puller with a Bull Whip could not have forced me through those gates. Instead, I went along the bike path and running trail down by the back road that led to the combined Joint Base Meyer – Henderson Hall, These two Marine and Army bases used to bump up hugging each other, now they were one with each other with an incredible Army and AirForce Exchange Service Location (and) a Marine Corps Exchange but weird shit like that rarely bothered Marines and I started to laugh as I thought about it, but then stopped laughing. Behind me was a vista like no other. The Lincoln Memorial, the Kennedy Center, the Jefferson Memorial, the Washington Monument, the Capitol and scores of other landmarks that caught the attention of locals and tourists alike. However, in front of me was the Iwo Jima Memorial. As I drank the last of my warm water, I realized I had never had time to reflect here. When the Marines had Sunset Parades here on Tuesdays during the Summer Months Just like Evening Tatoo Parades occurred at 8th & I on Fridays. I had been here plenty of times, but I was always working and sweating my ass off. I looked up and considered the Daily Routine those Marines must have had. Stones and Volcanic ash to sleep on, every horizontal distance mirrored in a vertical ascension or descent, not enough chow, and too many snipers. Eventually, the sun was dipping West behind the trees and I went uphill through the neighborhood to the Quarterdeck for Crab cakes, Fish & Chips and a beer or three. Despite my loss of appetite, maybe I could put some meat on my bones. Later, buzzed and stuffed, I paid my tab and left for the Rosslyn Metro. The sun had set. I was buzzed, but no amount of brewer’s droop could divert the sensation of being horny and hard up. I rode back over to NWDC on Metro, crossed K and L and walked down the alley to the bar. I am young enough I always get carded and the doorman handed me a cup. This was new I thought, I asked him “Shirtless Party”? Upstairs he said. I was being pushed along, the crowd was not a lazy 6 people like the other day, this was packed! I wormed through and up the stairs. There was an incredible number of hot guys with their shirts off. I pulled mine over my head and slipped it under my belt. I felt that my wallet was tight down in my left rear pocket, and my beach bag was stuffed in my right back pocket. If downstairs was crowded, this was nut to butt. I made it to the serving well, got the house rail drink, tipped the bartender who was an amazing bartending machine and moved closer to the wall. Yes, the cup was small. But I realized any profits lost would be recovered probably by 23:30 if this crowd continued drinking. I finished the rail and wormed back up for a beer. When I had finished that one, I was working my way up for another beer, got it, drank about half down and then - it happened. The cup was just coming down and I noticed an especially enticing chest with ripped abs and a treasure trail, but then I noticed its owner was looking back right at me, and I dropped my beer. I ducked down to fetch the cup to a couple of ‘hey watch it’ utterances from guys who had been splattered. I remained ducked down cursing. Surely it was the beers and the rail drinks, I slowly rose up and he was gone in the crowd. That is when I felt the tap and a loud voice that could be heard over the music. “Hey Marine, come here often”? It was Andy. Fuck! ...not the end... T4

This is humming along, I do appreciate the comments. I would often take my Leather Daddy to Sousa Hall which (way back in the day) had the infamous Chicken Hut Gay Bar across the street. In those days it was easy enough to find a 17 year old Marine who had a beer in front of him, so demanding an ID as a license to play was the move of a wise breeder or LeatherDaddy. - U-know, an ounce of prevention is worth a pounding of cure, and way less expensive than a trip to the DC Jail in Lorton. Both Daddy and the Black Leatherman, both members of DC Leather clubs would go to the weekend concerts at Sousa (DC) and Schlesinger Hall (in Va). The Black Leatherman was a USAF Korea War Vet and had his way with many Marines from the Annex. He had quite a following of lost lovesick puppies (and this was decades before the K9 Pup Kink Trends. Good Times! In awe I would listen and learn from these oracles of Leather Knowledge and cum away filled with knowledge, and other stuff - determined to do Daddy Proud. Speaking of Sousa, he will be making a cameo appearance shortly. Cheers and Semper Fi!

I love this story so much, it drew me in from lurker and jacker into a poz whore state of mind.

More Please!

OK, Shot! Fair Warning, if you suffer from Military PTSD I recommend you skip it for the next pozzing story. Out. “After all, we are all family now. Share it in good faith, you will join your Uncle and Brothers in Arms soon enough”…. As Leo moved aside, another Troll was ready to enter. I was stunned, certainly, thrilled, yes, aware of sensations I never thought had existed. As I was bred without vocal or physical complaints by myself or objections from the Marine inside. Leo lounged back and watched the show. He started what sounded like a practiced briefing. How many times had this happened? “Marine, you will remember some of what I say, but you will never forget the throbbing manhood in your hole as you absorb my spunk along with my neighbors. We are sympathetic, but we have needs. You seem to have some needs as well. You have been through some shit that’s for certain. A lot of people would have given up when faced with the challenges you have survived. You might have thought about ending it, but you are here so you are a stubborn Marine, the very best kind, the kind that does not give up. You think Recruit Training and the Crucible were tough? That SERE School was tough? The Crucible of life does not grade on a 4.0/4.0 scale; it is an off and on binary grade of pass/fail; surrender-fail/success-joy. Your Uncle would not like it if you just gave up would he”? I shook my head as the neighbor finished, and I had another dick pumping my ass. Leo continued –“Right now, you are sleep deprived, hung over, maybe still a little drunk. When you get back to your billet, shower and get some sack time there will be regrets about the choices you have made. That is natural. If you do have regrets, there are several resources on the card I put in your pocket. You will probably take that path. Just some advice, you do not want a Corpsman, or Squid Doc seeing that ass for a while, So the 1st resource on the list is the one I would try first. You need to ask them for PEP within 72 hours. Myself, I expect you will start PEP, then probably throw away the bottle and be back for a recharge”. I took advantage of Leo’s pause to mumble “Harder”! To my Impaler. Leo continued “Yes a lot of Marines are bossy bottoms. Devon, are you going to comply with his request”? “Nope” the owner of the BBC thrusting into me replied. “Sir! Harder Please Sir”? I corrected. Devon replied “Sure thing since you asked nicely” and started pounding me upslope. As the conga line continued, it started getting light. Leo said “Alright let’s wrap this up. Don’t want to startle a dog walker”. He handed me a rag and instructed me to not wipe with it but shove it up my gape so I would not leave a trail to the sally gate. I CAC’d in through the Man-Portal at the gate and rushed to the billets and the Head. Part of me wanted to keep it in, part of me was saying if you do so, you will have a visible accident later. I flipped a mental coin and pushed out while on the toilet. A rush of murky stuff, gobs of white, and threads of red were in the bowl. Bright red was on the toilet paper I cleaned up with. I showered, shaved, got into a work coverall and was nodding off in the Day Room when the duty briefing snapped me awake. During the work detail I was a zombie, a delicate zombie who if caught off balance would break into a thousand little Marine Pieces. The Gunny gave a nod to the Sgt and he asked me if I needed to go to Sick Call. I responded No Sgt, just sore from a workout and got caught in the rain this morning. I tried paying more attention to the tasks at hand. The day sucked out all my reserves. Boot Camp Crucible and Aviation SERE were tough, but I felt I had achieved a new level of on the job training across the last 16 Hours. I skipped chow which was a bad idea and hit the rack exhausted. My dreams were an alternating series of delicious dreams and nightmares. Oh My God, what had I done? I replayed the normal half of liberty – off time. My Uncle, The Bar, the drinking, the decision not to tank and derail my medical and Veteran benefits, taking shelter from the rain; and the other side of the teetertotter - my lack of objection, of not fighting back, even participating moaning, and enjoying every thrust, every squirt of cum. This other side, it was not comprehensible to me. Willingly taking part in a neighborly gang bang rock throwing distance from 8th & I was (not) normal. Or was it? I approached my SGT before the duty day began. I had come back early from my bereavement leave and admitted that insisting on getting back in the duty rotation had possibly been premature. He gave me a nod and asked would three days work? I said yes, and he told me done. “Thanks for letting me know before the morning roster gets finalized, and Corporal, losing battle buddies is tough, losing family is tough, if you need a referral for additional grief counselling, all you have to do is give the word. I never have to worry about you slacking off. I looked down and said Thank you Sgt. I went back to my locker and bunk. Was I going to do this? My conscious mind was telling me to, actually it was yelling at me to get whatever the fuck PEP was and put the whole business behind me. Being gay was not the criminal offense it used to be. So to insure I could put all of this behind me, I committed to using the card. I changed to civvies and took off for the clinic. Each walking step my sore asshole reminded me of the trauma and possible infection it had gone through. But somewhere else the lustful part of ‘me’ was saying what a ride! Let’s do it again! The clinic was perhaps an inadequate word for what was one division location in Washington DC of a large Non-Profit medical concern named after a poet and women’s health rights leader. Marines, along with all service members have learned to follow a rule of keeping ‘inappropriate’ behavior a certain distance from the Flagpole (so to speak). Since the Internet, this has applied to cyber behavior as well. Looking for porn on a government network would lock you out and get your name on the blotter. In the same vein, trying the same research on free Wi-Fi like the military branch community services provides on military facilities equate to the same thing. However, these days any Marine carries what in earlier eras would be considered a supercomputer. I was led to the proper sublocation, went in and asked the receptionist about PEP? I was directed upstairs and to another reception desk. When my turn came, I opened my mouth to speak but I was handed a clipboard. Please fill this out and return it to me. Names will be called based on the type of service needed. I reviewed the list already skittish, There were lots of checkboxes. I selected testing, PEP, and counselling along with possible STI exposure. Then the checklist tree bore embarrassing branches and fruit. Oral Exposure? Yes, Anal Exposure? Yes, I started realizing the implications of earlier questions of just one same sex encounter or multiple? Multiple. Protections used? None. The earlier question of bisexual, homosexual, and hetero sexual, exposure via unprotected sexual encounters, this was getting difficult, things were getting fuzzy, and I.. Passed out. ...not the end....

It is a specialized calling. There are professionals within the Military and First Responder Community. They do not all do this sort of thing, but in this field there is a gallows humor that tends to manifest itself in a shattering ways. For instance - as you are shooting your spooge up the ass of an Explosive Ordinance Disposal Tech and you push a push a book off of the bedside table onto the hardwood floor. The Clench! Ah The CLENCH!

However, please let me add a side query to this, the site is slow because there are [banned word] sluts like myself who are pounding our gaming keyboard with one hand, Jumping up and down on the dildo in the gaming chair, and jacking with the other hand. With guys like myself demanding packets of data, I am technically amazed the site has not melted down into a puddle of rare earths and copper. 😉

I experience this as well, and it is 'up my alley' so to speak. This is not the only site that does this, but if you install a US certied AV with web protections such as McAfee AV/EPO/HBSS of variants, while you are panting or stoking and waiting. It is learning from you. If popups are not throttled its algorithms open a new tab (for me it is usually all real bareback), or an AI whacking boy (think of Ted Schmidt and his jerk at work.net on US Queer as folk. It is doing a lot of research on you, and collecting lots of information which drives bait content. The goal is to mesmerize you with a tidbit or bait while they farm your information and tempt you to pony up your credit card info for a subscription which as of now, is harder to get out of a subscription that it was a short time ago, I could call it political, but actually, it is simple greed that knows no party. By the end of a jerking weekend, you might have hundreds or over a few thousand trackers on your system. Remember, just because you don't like condoms, or to live to serve as a cumdump or pozzer does not mean you should not protect your cyber info. Jus saying.

Secretly, I was hoping someone would say this. It would not be the first time I broke something, taking it out of the box, but then played with the box. If anyone would like to play with my box it is open and available. OK, the next section is in work. The first section amazed me since it just flowed. If it does break the story, you can always treat it like Indiana Jones 2 or 4 and fondly remember 1 and 3 even if Amy Farrah Fowler and her writers distracted us from our fond Indy favorites no matter which movie.