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The Marine and the Troll Under The Bridge 7-31-2025 I have been trying to find the courage to post this one for a long time, It is one of the reasons I was just a Breeding Zone Lurker/Reader and not a full user. For those who have liked my Sticky Situation in another forum, this is darker. Many may not like it, Most Vets will recognize the shadows that haunt us. Rest assured that this is a work of fiction with some landmarks and truisms tossed in. However, my hesitation in posting is because this could have very well happened to me. It is not a happy fantasy cum true. Fair Warning, if you suffer from Military PTSD I recommend you skip it for the next pozzing story. /////////// Mike here, 21Years old, 5’11” when I stretch, 28” waist,160 Lbs. and a 7 inch cut dick and I am a Gay Marine. When I say gay, I mean in the spectrum of things, I am pretty damn gay. Or as gay as a virgin can be. In Highschool, I had eventually realized I was gay like my Uncle who at that time was also pretty damn gay. I mean I tried doing the traditional route, I dated girls in Highschool but never seemed to get as lucky as my peers, mostly it was a drain on my poor wallet. It had occurred to me that my friends might be fudging their scorecards some, but I had nothing to measure against. Marine Corps Bootcamp was not a discovery risk. Plenty of gay Recruits have earned their EGA. Boot Camp – East Coast/West Coast is pretty regimented down to 5 minute timeslices. If a Recruit has time to pop a Boner, the Senior Drill Instructor is letting his Junior DIs slack off. My uncle tells me that back in the day, female Beautiful Alluring Marines unofficially known as BAMs were only trained at PI, but then everything changed. Females were still taught makeup appropriate for the uniform, but they were expected to Shoot (Every Marine A Rifleman) regardless of sex, and both the Boot Camps in Hollywood and PI were machines that instructed Recruits in the Core Fundamentals of the Corps: Honor, Bravery, GUNG HO/Pulling Together, Combat Basics all while instilling the foundation of never leaving a Comrade Behind. Gung Ho was lifted from the Chinese, Semper Fidelis was the bedrock Prejudice of color were mostly expelled in WWII around the timeframe after Iwo. One color Mattered and it was Green (or) the flip side of that was Khaki. Old Corps Marines might dimly recall the mantra of Green Side Out, Brown side out, run in circles scream and shout. The ITV network at bootcamp was always streaming Sands of IWO Jima so that by the time a recruit graduates and goes to additional schooling or the Fleet, they have seen it around 40 times. Aviation fields were integrated with Naval Training at NAS Pensacola if you had spunk, or were otherwise worthy, and failed a technical course, you might be dropped to a less technically demanding track like Avionics would drop back to Aviation Electrical, Aircraft Engine Mechanic might drop to Airframes and Structures so as to not waste the core aviation training you already had. Mechanics who were situationally aware at the line level units were evaluated for Crew Chief or Door Gunner Duty. It was as a Crew Chief, my soul died. I had seen combat, I had even benefited from counselling during and after combat. I had lost Battle Buddies and Warrior Brothers, it was a heavy burden. Some peers had committed suicide, prevention screening was heightened. Then the event that changed my life for the worse. During a training mission a catastrophic failure which prevented any real effort to Auto-Rotate dumped 4 of us and a UH-1N into Davy Jones’ Locker. Most Marines get Water Survival Qualified at least once. Aviation crew personnel in the Marines and the Navy are required to go through the Dunker Trainer. If successfully completed, you have a 9 in 10 chance of exiting a water crash if you retain consciousness during the initial ditch. I was knocked so hard I cracked my helmet but I was conscious enough to take a deep breath and try to move towards the front pilot in command a copilot seats as the sea rushed in but the flooding and the increasing darkness fuzzed my awareness. Then I was being pulled out backwards by my flight vest and broached the surface sputtering with the other surviving crew member Joe Richwalski who said “at least I don’t have to do Mouth to Mouth” as he inflated my flotation bladder in the vest took another deep breath and dove down, his vest remaining uninflated. I dipped my aching head and tried to peer though the murk. I was panicked but mechanically preparing to deflate my vest and dive when Joe again broached the surface. We can’t reach them and turned his face away but dove again in case he was wrong. The Rescue was pretty quick during combat or training – if a tracked flight goes off grid, the response is ASAP. My debrief and report got Joe cited with a Meritorious Service Medal and my head and orthopedic injuries got me transferred from flight status to medical holding. Segregation of serious Combat Wounded Marines and those who suffer an injury as a line of duty incident is routine. If a Marine just back from deployment wraps their Motorcycle around a telephone pole while drunk, that is not usually a Line Of Duty injury. The fact that it was a mech failure of equipment with loss of life during operations training meant I was re slotted into a billet until I could be medically stabilized, evaluated and potentially medically discharged. My new Duty Station assignment was published, I was attached to Marine Barracks Annex, Washington DC. Because I had done band and music in High School, and Sound/Theater during the same period, by oddball chance I was slotted into a ‘Roadie’ billet supporting the Marine Orchestra. The in-brief/Welcome Aboard was typical but some of the specifics were non-standard. The extra decorum expected of Marines in the Nations Capitol, and the Rocks and Shoals that would get us into instant trouble. A whole list of historical infractions such as drunk Marines trying (and sometimes succeeding in the old days) of climbing the Whitehouse Fence; right down to Drunk and Disorderly; or the catchall ‘Conduct Unbecoming A Marine”. I had been low, now I was very low. Then I learned my Uncle had died. While I had affection for my parents, somehow, I loved my Uncle more. The whispers not from my parents but from the cousins was that it involved complications from AIDS or HIV. Knowing my attraction towards men, and knowing the risks, the last time I spoke to my Uncle I had asked him to take my virginity. His response after a pause, Oh Mike, I love you like you were my own son. I could not possibly, and I heard something unintelligible, and he hung up. When I came back from the funeral, I still had some leave and I went on a bender. The Gayborhood on East Capitol Street that my Uncle had once described was gone. Remington’s, Mr. Henry’s, all gone. However, there were still plenty of bars and about 01:30 in the morning, I realized as they prepped for last call that I was too broke for a hotel, and too drunk to successfully bluff my way back through the security gate. This may be redundant for Vets who know it already, but perhaps for a few it will bring into focus just how much of a burden Marines can carry. The Marine Corps was born in a Bar so a drunk marine is nothing new. I had tied one on trying to anesthetize my mind from the pain of compounded loss. To add to my woes, it started raining, then pouring rain. I huddled under one of the overpasses in despair. I was as wary as I could be but even if I got rolled/robbed they would not get much. The ever-present homeless population noticed the high and tight haircut and most kept to their selected spots but one said to scoot up the underpass slope – the chilly wind is not so bad there. He said his name was Leo and I told him my name was Mike. Leo said Marine Right? I replied yes. Leo said thank you for your service. I hung my head. What’s wrong? I assure you are not the first Marine to pause under this shelter and you won’t be the last. In my drunken state, I started recounting my story providing what a sober mike would realize was too much information. I fell asleep and became wakeful with some wonderful feelings. The rain was still pounding, my dick was out. Had Leo been blowing me? My erection had never been this hard even when jacking off and watching porn. I had no other experience to compare it to. I started buttoning up and Leo said no worries, just helping out a shipmate. I looked a silent question in his direction. ’82 he said after a bit, just before the Marine Barracks was attacked. Friends of mine went ashore from the LHAs for a card game. He leaned back over and unbuttoned my fly while keeping a wary eye on my reactions. I was silent except for a gasp as he took me into his mouth. My erection reappeared and within a short few seconds I blew a huge load down his throat and he swallowed and swallowed, suckling for a while. He must have kept a little because he pulled out a skoal can and hawked a gob into it setting it aside. He said roll over and I hesitantly complied. He pulled my jeans and shorts down and started licking my hole. I was paralyzed with fear and lust Fight or Flight did not even occur to me. My gasps were followed by groans as his tongue entered my anus. With the chill air, I felt warm and Rosy. My anus was relaxed from beer and Leo’s tongue. He stopped and moved up inserting a finger, then two, then three. He spat on my hole and I heard the skol can lid drop as he added my cum to my ass. I shuddered. He entered and not with a finger this time. The initial entry was sharp, but I was calm, and still drunk but aware. As my hole relaxed he went deeper, he was rubbing my love nut and every time my ass would clench he would sigh. Eventually he picked up the pace and his dick expanded further blowing a definite series of cum spirts up my ass. As he deflated and withdrew, he continued his soothing talk. Mike, I’m sure your Uncle would have eventually come around. Here is the gift he did not have the opportunity to give you. I’m sure he would have helped out a shipmate eventually. After all, we are all family now. Share it in good faith, you will join tour Uncle and Brothers in Arms soon enough…. …not the end….

Chapter 1. God, I am a bastard. I found myself at loose ends for the first time in my life. For the past twenty years, I lived and breathed the Marines. I joined fresh out of high school at 17, and had my twenty at 37. I wasn’t really sure I was going to leave the service, but that decision was largely taken away from me when I popped positive on an HIV test. The whys and hows of my conversion are a different story, though. Do you know how limiting being positive is to a military career? The short answer is very. They do not kick you out, but they really limit what you can do. So here I was at 37, retired with half pay and a whole lot of time, and every constant from my life removed. I had a lot of money in the bank (even with the low pay, 20 years of almost no expenses adds up), full military benefits, and an honorable discharge. I was so bored. When I couldn’t stand living in my own head anymore, I decided to go back and get a college degree. Really, that is where this story begins. I decided on Civil Engineering not because of any particular interest, but because the Department of Labor showed the highest 20-year growth in that field of all the engineering fields. I applied for, and was accepted at the University of Texas at Austin. Honestly, I think I was accepted solely because of my military service, but beggars can’t be choosers. At the freshman orientation, I was very uncomfortable. Here I was at 37, 20 years older than everyone around me. At this point I really started to question my decision, but fate intervened. Call it providence, call it fate, or call it luck, but I bumped into someone just a handful of years younger than me who was going back to finish his degree. He was a nice guy who showed me around campus (he lived in Austin) and gave me the info on living in Austin. He also offered to help me get up to speed on all the math I had never taken or just completely forgot. If I had not met him, the rest of this story would not be possible. Now I should say that I had not been sexually active since my diagnosis. Being in the military so long, I had long since gotten used to suppressing my sexual needs. I just took that energy and used it to improve my body (which was already in good shape), increasing my workouts until I was in the best shape of my life. That continued until after my first semester had started. Now I suppose I should describe myself, just to keep some of you interested. I am a nicely built 6’, around 220 lb of lean muscle. My coloring is pretty average, brown hair, blue eyes, a moderate amount of hair on my chest. I am a good looking guy, not great, but not ugly by any means. I still, to this day, wear a high and tight. One of my better features though is my cock. I was blessed with a thick, veiny cock, still intact, that while not gargantuan was a very nice 7.5” long, 6” around. Not the largest by any means, but quite respectable. Now my buddy, who I will call S, really helped me out when I started. He let me stay in his house for a couple months while I got my shit together, showed me around town, and helped me come out of my shell. It turned out he was gay as well. He was pretty open about it, but it took me longer to open up. 37 years in the closet will do that to you. He also convinced me to join some student organizations, just to round out my college experience. I am glad I found him, because I don’t think I could have made it without him. The first time it happened, I really felt ashamed of myself. I found myself at the Gregory Gym getting a late-night workout in after study tables when I caught a kid checking me out. I say kid, but he was probably around 20, but he just seemed so young to me. As I went through my routine, he kept looking up until I left the workout area. I headed in, showered quickly (a habit from the Marines I have since broken), and then headed to the steam room to relax. It is in the steam room it happened. I hadn’t been in there 5 minutes when the kid walks in. He was a handsome man with reddish blond hair, not built but not fat, with a smattering of chest hair and a trimmed goatee. He smiled at me and nodded, and I just nodded back. His next actions surprised me, though. After sitting for a few minutes, he started rubbing himself though his towel. Now at this point, I hadn’t had sex with anyone in over a year, so I went from limp to painfully erect in seconds. The lack of blood to my brain probably led to the rest of the nights actions, because rather than discouraging his behavior, as I should have, I started rubbing myself through my shorts. That was all it took. The next thing I know, he is exposed and stroking a hard, cut 6 incher. I followed suit, and before I knew it he was sucking me down his throat. At this point, what little rational thought I had left, and that leaving changed my life and probably his forever. I don’t know what came over me, but next thing I know I am standing behind him, one arm around his chest, the other around his cock, with my cock leaking a river of precum into the cleft of his ass. After a minute or two of this treatment, He was writhing and moaning, which only made me leak that much faster. Then he said three little words that would certainly change his life: "Please fuck me." I couldn’t have said no if I wanted to. I was so horned up, my only thought was getting off. I lubed him up with spit and precum and worked my cock into his bare ass. It was pure bliss. After giving him a minute or two of gentle fucking, I started to really pound into him. For over a year I had denied myself this, and I just couldn’t help myself. He had one hand braced against the wall, one hand stroking his dick, and was backing into me as if he just couldn’t get enough. His downfall, however, was when he came. I could feel his already tight ass clamp down on my cock and I quickly followed him over the edge. It felt like I shot a gallon of cum in his ass in what was probably the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. I kept myself in there for a couple of minutes while I recovered; only pulling out when he started stepping away. When I pulled out, a fat wad of cum followed, splatting on the floor and it was then my senses returned to me. I had just fucked him bare, came in his ass, and I was positive. It was quite distressing to me, and I quickly left the gym feeling enormously guilty. The part I felt worst about though was how much I enjoyed it. I liked the thought of my cum filling his ass, of him going back to his dorm or apartment and sleeping with a piece of me in him. I shouldn’t like it, I should be disgusted with it, but god help me I did. That is how it began.

Met a 30-something, muscular, hung, black top on vacation from the Marine base in SD. I was at the Temptation pool partybat the Luxor, where the bodies were hot and the drinks were cold. Spotted him dancing to the EDM pounding its beats and stirring libidos. Waded over to him, look him in the eyes, turned around, and pushed my luscious ass into his crotch. We danced for a bit, his hands eventually sliding across my stomach and into my speedos. I tugged my speedos down, exposing my ass and he opened up his shorts, pulling out his magnificent python. I trapped his shaft between my ass cheecks as we danced some more. Eventually his cock head was knocking at my hole. He wanted to fuck and I wanted him to fuck me. Minutes later we were in my room. Making out, his naked body on mines, I pulled out some Magnums and lube. I gave him an achingly slow blowjob and hit took all my will power to not gag on his powerful cock as he slid it down my throat and held it there for what felt like an eternity. After he became fully hard, he proceeded to massage his dick while lubimg my hole with two, then three fingers in me. He pulled himself up and spead my legs wide. He slowly pushed his massive cock in my hole. It hurt a bit, but I was pretty loose from the previous fucks the past couple of days. I put my hand on his hip and asked him to put a condom on first before we fuck. He slid it in even further and told me he wanted to feel my raw hole for a bit. He then pushed it in balls deep, slid it out half way, and slid it back in. I gasped in enjoyment and the thought of protected sex totally escaped my mind. He proceeded to fuck me, dominate me, use me. He called me a slut, a whore, his bitch, bending and tossing me in different positions. I ended up on top, riding him like a possessed, cock hungry, slut. His dick was buried deep in me, past my second ring in my sex hole, grinding away. He warned me that he was about to nut but I keep going. He uttered profanities and grunted. I felt his hot essence spreading deep in me. I was so hypnotized by his sex that I didn't care that he could me possibly be loading me up with poz cum. We fucked for several more hours. It was so good that he made me cum like a split-tailed bitch by working his immense dick on my p-spot. In all, he unloaded his plum sized balls in me at least five times. After his final orgasm, he stood up, dressed, and left without a word. Come to think of it, the name he gave me was probably false. I laid in bed, sore, my anus swollen and gaping, his cum leaking out of me like a cheap whore. A few months after returning from my vacation, I got my quarterly STI test, I'm (still) negative, but if I ever ran into Corporal "Dwayne", USMC again, told me he was poz, and wants to tear my hole up, my pants would drop in an instant.

Got home after dinner last night and had a couple messages on my yahoo from a Marine. Says he's married and works at the base in town. His wife is gone this weekend and he hasn't been fucked in over 5 months. He is calling me papi and begging for a fuck. He is still online and I get a pic out of him and his location. He says he's naked in the living room, waiting for me. I tell him I don't have any condoms or lube handy. He replied I won't need any. He wants to feel my skin and feel my load deep inside him. He is Latino, stocky like a good Marine. Tats on both shoulders, and lower back, with a bubble ass that sure looks inviting. So I make the decision - which wasn't tough. I drove over to his apartment and sure enough, when I get there the front door was closed, but unlocked, as he had told me to expect. Walking into the apartment he greeted me – nude! That ass is the first thing that sunk into my brain, and apparently he truly was desperate for some cock. He doesn't wait and starts right in pulling my zipper down and pulls out my tool, sucking me hard. As soon as it is stiff and wet to his liking he turns around and sinks himself right back onto my dick. FUCK! No lube needed was right. His hole is hot and wet and he backed right on without pausing. He starts right in begging for me to fuck him, calling me papi. I start slapping his ass as I am fucking it. I want to see it nice and pink before I leave. He loves it, squirming around on my dick. He takes it standing, on his knees and finally on his back of the living room floor. It is that position I could see his eyes, so I can start really pounding. I worked him over that way for several minutes and he starts asking for it. Begging me to seed him with my load. It was fucking HOT. I couldn't hold it back then. I just stared into his eyes as I buried it as deep as I could get it and unloaded my bug seed inside him. He was groaning and shooting his little cock, squeezing my dick sooo nice. I collapsed on top of him and we lay there for awhile. When I pulled out I could see my seed hanging from my cock and he did also. As I stood up he immediately grabbed my cock and licked it clean and thanked me. FUCK it was nice. I left him there laying on the floor and headed back home knowing I had possibly pozzed more than him, but maybe got the wife too.