Barracks Bitch

[Assmunch]

4 hours ago, GIVEMESEED1974 said:

Crikey @Assmunch , this is some “Piglitzer”-worthy writing.   The character development and descriptive imagery are both brilliant. I love how you take inside not just the holes and poles of these characters, but their heads too.
 

This is the kind of story that the day after I read it, at some random time I think “Hey, I wonder what Kevin, Tom, and Carol are up to today. I should text and see if the want brunchies”  The writing is THAT good. 

Wow, @GIVEMESEED1974, I’m flattered by your praise.  I’m having the best time writing this, weaving the motivational complexity that drives both plot and character.   I read my every free hour, all sorts of books and of course here too, so perhaps it’s rubbing off on me.  Thank you.

[Assmunch]

@partying.hard @ejaculaTe, that makes me happy.  I’m hoping to get you to cum in your pants while crying and laughing.  A tall order, but I’m trying.

[laguyinhou]

Thanks, @Assmunch! Another awesome chapter! 

[Assmunch]

ASSMUNCH

***********************

 

The truth was, I wasn’t jonesing to fuck Sleeper, even if he had the most perfect dumper I’d ever seen.  Yeah, it was fun tongue raping him, he tasted great, and his pale skin heightened the allure.  The turn on for me was how responsive and receptive he was when my face was buried in his shitcave.  Hearing him moan.  Seeing him grab his glutes to pull them apart to get me deeper.  Watching him spread his legs like a party slut.  He was such a tough, masculine, overly confident grunt that his willingness to have his private, secret tunnel invaded and filled with my saliva became erotic.  He truly WANTED me up there, needed it so bad it made me hard and dripping.  Getting him to beg for it flipped my dick switch.  But before tonight I had no desire to bury my bone in his doghouse.  Fucking dudes just wasn’t a sexual goal.  I mean, of course I COULD.  But that wasn’t anything I was after.

 

But I was also not in the habit of fooling myself.  It felt good, real good, to force my thick cock up his shitter, knowing no one else had opportunity or liberty to plunder him.  So what if I tricked him?  I knew my best friend intimately, knew that deep down he had accepted that his smooth pretty butthole became mine from the first moment he felt my mouth muscles manipulate his chute.  I saw it in the way he took frequent opportunity to press his ass against me when he passed in a doorway.  “Sorry bro, coming through”. How instead of kneeling down to grab something off the floor, his rack, a chair, that when I was within ten feet of him he moved to point his rear towards me to bend over casually.  No, he didn’t do it like a stripper, it would have been out of character for Sleeper to make a display of it.  Sleeper didn’t display, he didn’t preen or strut.  But he did make the effort to perform a presentation, as if sharing a private joke with me.  The daring was part of it.  He thought he was driving me crazy with temptation.  He wasn’t.  I thought it was amusing, him playing his little game thinking he had something I couldn’t wait to get my hands on, when all I was thinking was how important my tongue must be to him to get him to try to seduce me.  Every time he did his little tricks it was apparent that it was HIM thinking about ME.  He yawned a lot, stretching his arms up, clenching the mounds of his ass.  He already walked with his huge shoulders thrust back, which he knew forced his lower back in and had his glutes jutting out like a shelf.  He laid in his rack naked, on top of his blanket, and I’d see his eye rotate to see if I was looking before giving his ass a wiggle.

 

Yeah, my dude loved what I did to him and wanted to make sure I didn’t lose interest.  He used his muscle ass as a commodity.  THAT was what turned me on.  And maybe he was getting to me, too.  I shouldn’t be noticing that he did all that for my benefit.  Still, recognizing what was going on didn’t mean my leash was relaxed.  I wasn’t letting that happen again.  For now, we were engaged in a straightforward transaction.

 

I left Sleeper to clean himself up.  I took a much needed piss before going back to my rack.  I noticed Zeus and Wanker weren’t back yet.  I wasn’t surprised.  Sleeper had taken just 25 minutes to get sorted.  Zeus was probably still fucking Wanker.  Or at least I hoped he was.

 

I fell asleep hoping Sleeper wasn’t going to want me to fuck him every time we had our fun.  That’s not where I wanted this to go.  Of course I should have known better.

 

************************

Fucking bloody rotten hell, we were back out for training with the rest of our company.  Sarge blasted his air horn at oh four thirty, just five hours after most of us got to bed.  I wouldn’t put it past him to have known we’d stayed up to party, and he’d led us to believe we might not be going back out.  At least the asshole could have waited until Monday.  The only blessing was the rain had stopped, but it was far colder now.

 

There was no time to ask Wanker or Zeus how it went, but I did notice Wanker had lost that defeated, morose attitude.  Good, even if his rape-ravaged shitter wasn’t quite back to normal at least his head was screwed on straight.  Zeus was unreadable.  His every look and move precise, focused and dedicated to the easy perfection that came naturally to him.  He didn’t even appear to take notice when Wanker shot frequent smiles his way as they put up the TEMPER we’d be bunking in.  Our squad consisted of myself, Sleeper, Zeus, Puta, Troll, Demon, Wanker, and Bootlicker.  Footlong, Cellblock, Dimples, Junior, Holler, C-Wrecker (Cuntwrecker when it was just us), Nuts, and Dumbo (his fuckin’ears, holy shit) made up the ambitiously named Big Dick squad, almost all of them with cocks that hung at least four inches soft.  Assholes.  The rest filled out the last two squads of our platoon.   All good men.  No slackers.

 

No one complained that we’d just be tearing it down six days from now to pack camp back up.  We were at a point we could set up our encampment with our eyes closed.  Necessary training even though if it ever came to it we wouldn’t actually be the ones doing this.  All this shit would be set up for us ahead of time by Support because it was considered a semi-permanent encampment.  Outside of permanent or semi-permanent all we’d have would be personal equipment we carried on our backs if we were lucky.  That would be a luxury most of the time because if you were out on a mission it was easier to stay hidden by holing up in the natural terrain or surroundings.  But we were grateful we wouldn’t be sleeping out in the elements this week.  We didn’t have showers, if you wanted a wash up you dipped a bucket in a fifty gallon drum.  So we mostly skipped that, not minding our own stink and filth.

 

It was probably Sergeant Charlie’s idea that our location was one that was formerly occupied by one of the other platoons, my guess was Charlie’s because their current position seemed suspiciously dry and undisturbed.  So the ground was torn up and still muddy where we were told to set up.  Thanks Wanker.  Still worth it though as I took every opportunity to throw a sneering grin at whatever shaved Charlie I saw.  I also made sure to tell the brothers if they saw a Charlie to remove their cover and rub a hand through their hair.  It’s the little things in life that bring you joy.

 

********************

 

None of us were proud of the last week.  The sergeants seemed to want to punish everyone.  Spot drills, brutal full equipment marches during the day,  redirects and backtracks, target locations (if we could even reach them) without the promised packages, returning to camp hours after dark to find our TEMPERs trashed, all of them.  Cold MRE’s, which weren’t great when hot, and barely edible almost frozen.  Some of us started putting ours in the waistband of our underwear to keep them thawed at body temperature.  No heat, no fire.  Mostly though we barely had the energy to taste the food, pretty much just swallowing it after a couple chews.  Impossible missions, frustrating goalpost moving, forcing choices between saving a brother or completing the mission, do you leave them behind, equipment turning up missing or ruined, surprise attacks two hours after we’d collapse.  You name a dirty trick, that’s what we endured.  No-win scenarios, impossible targets, unachievable objectives.  All. Fucking. Week.

 

We failed damn near every mission, and no matter how much we tried to figure out what we did wrong, the only conclusion we could reach was that we weren’t SUPPOSED to succeed.  Our morale flagged, everyone was pissy and whining like a bitch, except for Bootlicker and Wanker, who never gave up trying to make us smile or figure out a way we could beat the Sergeants at their own game.  And of course not Zeus.  Everyone except those three got into heated arguments, hurling insults and low blows, even Puta and Troll getting into a shoving match.  Fat lot of good that did Puta, trying to push Troll around.

 

I tried to stay out of it for the most part.  I know my tone and attitude wasn’t the best, and I should have soothed my brothers like I knew I could.  But I chose to let them get it out of their system, they needed to release the frustration.  If they couldn’t do that with each other and then let it go, we weren’t going to be a successful squad.

 

I waited until both the physical and verbal bullshit faded into exhaustion.

 

“I’m guessing no one thinks we got anything out of the last two weeks, right?”  I threw out.

 

I got a resounding ‘FUCK NO!’

 

“Well I think we should.  Here’s the plan.” And I started laying out the beginning of the diabolical fantasy I’d been putting together over the last three days of torture, more as a way to distract myself from our failures.  But after seeing what had been done to us, how it had brought us down, I determined we needed something to get our mojo back.  It had to happen tonight, before we broke camp tomorrow and headed back.

 

The squad split up.

 

Twenty minutes later, crowded into my TEMPER was every squad leader of the whole company.  To unanimous agreement we all felt the complete suck of our training, and every one of them realized we’d been set up to fail.  We weren’t stupid, we knew it was supposed to teach us something, probably some bullshit about how to handle failure, build comradery, never let our guard down, missions weren’t always easy or guaranteed to succeed, and about ten other stupid lessons.  But enough was enough.  They’d gone too far.  I gave them their very simple orders - capture every Sergeant using whatever non-violent technique they could come up with.  Use deceit, subterfuge, watch for a weak moment, capture and hold.  They were to be stripped to their underwear, tied up and staked in the field beside the camp.  They were to delegate two members of their squad to remove all of the Sergeants’ gear and personal equipment from their quarters.  I told them it was going to be a long night, that we could trade off sleep, but that camp would be broken by dawn.  I was still fleshing out what exactly we were going to do with the sergeants which was going to take careful planning because I didn’t want anyone to cross the line into disrespect or assaulting a superior.  I made that point VERY clear.  Immobilize without harm.  This was simple, clean payback, not vengeance.  I told them zero hour was the deadline, but that no one was to get their target to the field before 23:45, unless all targets had been neutralized before then.  Everyone was to report to me by messenger when their targets were captured.

 

I pulled Charlie’s squad leaders aside, had Wanker apologize and apologized myself.  I told them we’d serve a punishment of their choice.  They seemed surprised.  I gave them a few minutes to talk it over and they were far more gracious than I gave them credit for.  Decent brothers, who weren’t afraid to admit the humor in what Wanker had done.

 

“Shave your heads, and keep them shaved for a month.  Just your squad, not all the Bravos.  Do that, and we’ll call you Brother again.”

 

I didn’t have to think about it.  “Done.” I said immediately.  “Thanks for being a brother about it.  We’re wearing war paint tonight.  I’d like it if the Charlies did too.”

 

They actually shook my hand.

 

I asked them if they could handle Horvath, which they were uncertain about.  I told them Zeus, Sleeper and Troll would make quick work of that beast.  I’d already decided Zeus and Troll were going to take out Sarge.  The other Sarges  wouldn’t be a problem.  Not everyone was a muscle bound brute in a uniform.

 

********************

 

I had to say I was impressed.  At 22:36, all targets were enjoying the chilly hospitality of my field of prisoners.  I had a nice fire burning, didn’t want our precious sergeants getting hypothermia.  I noticed most had anger in their eyes.  I sat comfortably on an equipment case facing the semicircle of my prisoners.  My Sarge and Horvath seemed amused.

 

“Mmmmmph, mmgh fuh muh dnnneh u” Sarge mumbled conversationally from behind his gag.

 

I cocked my head.  “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you yet, but there’s no rush.  We have all night.”  I was trying to heat up my ‘beef stew’ MRE entree over the fire without cooking it to death.  Entree.  Yeah right.  Fancy name for dogshit.

 

“Nrr gnng u eh eeoreh”. He pointed out with a shrug.

 

“Maybe.” I shrugged back.  I didn’t think this would go as far as an official report.  “I was kinda hoping maybe you’d be impressed.  I planned all this just four hours ago.” I explained, gesturing vaguely to them and the air with my survival weapon.  “Seems the entire company was fed up with being losers.  Something we all figured out you Sergeants deliberately organized.”

 

“Uh or ee id!  Ah aheh ee oheree, oher.”

 

I gauged his eyes, which held a challenge.  I flicked to Horvath.  He was calm and unruffled.  He was curious to see how this would play out.  I returned to Sarge with a lazy grin.  “You are my prisoner Sarge.  While I retain my deep respect for you, and everyone here, that we speak at all is on my terms.  You have allowed yourselves to be captured by Army Privates.  Honestly, whether I address you properly doesn’t seem to be something you should have at the top of your list.  You really should be focused on one thing - escape.  I bet each of you is going over the skills list of the soldiers that secured your hands and feet.  I see Sergeant Alpha over there has a soldier who loves his knots.  Don’t count on Alpha there getting loose first.”  I laughed.

 

I started eating my stew with my knife, never letting my eyes off of my prisoners.

 

In between bites, I told them about their soldiers.  I explained how we figured out the potential lessons we thought we were supposed to learn.

 

“Yeah, the training sucked.  Me and a few others figured out pretty quick we weren’t intended to succeed at our missions, and if it looked like we just might in spite of the dirty tricks you fuckers threw at us, you then crippled us somehow or moved the goal posts.  If we gave up trying because we weren’t going to succeed, you punished us.”  I took another bite, chewed slowly.  “I gave them until zero hour to get all of you tied up.  They accomplished the mission way earlier.  Guess they were really pissed.”

 

“You know this shit doesn’t taste anything like beef stew, right?  Do you think it’s even real beef in there?”  I looked up, and signaled with my knife.  “You wanted to see how we dealt with failure as a unit?  Behold the fruits of your labor.”

 

The other squad leaders came over, each bringing an equipment case to sit on.  It was deliberate that the Sarges were sitting on the ground while we sat above them on crates.  They all filed past me, giving me a fist bump.  I handed Charlie’s squad leader my knife.  He pulled out some shaving cream.

 

“Always count on your Sarge to be prepared, Bravo.” He said.

 

“Call me Assmunch, Brother.  Yeah, Sarge likes to stay pretty for the Army.  I like that about him, he sets an example for us to live up to.” I replied.

 

“Assmunch?  You’re going to have tell me about how that happened.”

 

I laughed.  “You’re going to love it.”

 

Horvath and Sarge were watching us closely.

 

“You ready, Assmunch?”

 

“Do it.”  And cold, frigid water was poured on my head.  My grease paint stayed of course.  I felt the shaving cream rubbing into my scalp.  I never took my eyes off Sarge and Horvath.  The Charlie began shaving my head with my knife.  He was pretty good, being careful.  It took a while, and probably looked horrible, but this was about a message.  Then all the squad leaders came and rubbed my newly bald head, saying ‘thanks, Brother’ even though we hadn’t talked about that.  Maybe that was Charlie’s doing, I don’t know.  It felt good.  Then they all left, except the Charlie.

 

“Mind if I sit watch with you, Assmunch?”

 

“I’d be honored, Charlie.”

 

He pulled his crate up beside mine.  “Lamont.”

I glanced at him.  Of course I knew that, it was on his uniform.  “How about Bald Tire?”

 

“And here I was just starting to like you, Assmunch.”

 

That made me laugh.  “Yeah, besides, it doesn’t suit you.  It’s better when your own men give you your nickname, anyway.  It’s not my privilege.”

 

We sat there, my Brother Lamont and I, talking quietly with each other, until we saw the eastern sky begin to glow.  We’d taken turns getting more deadwood for the fire, making sure the Sergeants stayed warm.  I told him the story of my nickname, which made him laugh so hard he fell off his crate.  I left out the part about how much Sleeper enjoyed it.  Bootlicker brought water for the Sergeants, and Lamont and I escorted away the three that needed to relieve themselves, none of them put up a fight.  Thinking about it afterwards, I think none of them wanted to push things to a point where this turned from a prank into something actionable.  They didn’t want to put us in a position where an unforgivable mistake was made.  Our Sergeants were amazing.  Part of me wondered how much they had allowed this to happen to see where we’d take it.

 

When the sun first peeked over the horizon, I cut the Sergeants loose, starting with my Sarge and Horvath.  Bootlicker wanted to involve peanut butter somehow, but I told him mistreatment of the prisoners wasn’t going to happen.  We all walked back to camp, or what remained of it.  The company had done an excellent job of breaking down, making sure not to touch the Sergeants tents.  The guys had also rigged up a camp shower, complete with heated water for the Sarges, if they wanted to have the luxury and relax their stiff muscles after the long cold night being tied up immobile.  I was pleased most of them accepted the kind apologetic gesture.  Each squad leader then played valet for their Sarge, drying them off, then holding their uniform for them to get dressed.  When I saw someone had taken it upon themselves to ball up Sarge’s uniform so it was a wrinkled mess, I nearly lost it on my squad.  Looking at it, then the brothers, Demon had the decency to step forward.

 

“Sorry Sarge.  Sorry Assmunch.  I got carried away.”

 

I put Sarge’s uniform in Demon’s hands.  “Fix it.” Was all I said.

 

I turned to everyone else.  “When the Sergeants are finished in their quarters, break em down and load em up.  If you aren’t involved in that, you have camp cleanup duty.  I want this entire area looking like we were never here.  No one has set foot here for a year, you got me?” I shouted.

 

“YES PRIVATE BRAVO!” The entire company yelled back.

 

What had they gotten out of this, besides extra work?  Simple.  They accomplished a mission, finally.  And after the two weeks of hell we’d just been through, they got a night to relax without fear of what the Sergeants were going to do to them on their last, most exhausted night.  The squad leaders should have rotated duty and sleep for everyone, as I instructed.  And I know without my plan those asshole had something planned to spring on us last night.  Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and working together, even with a different platoon.  In fact, there didn’t seem to be the usual behavior of sticking to your squad or platoon.  Everyone was helping out wherever they could lend a hand.  I suspected they were eager to get back early to relax, finally, so the faster they got us packed up the sooner we could leave and get back to civilization.  It was a relief that we were able to throw a wrench in the Sergeants’ potentially cruel hazing.

 

Sarge and Sergeant Charlie confirmed exactly that when I followed them to their tent.  I was going to wait just outside, but they waved me in.

 

“Think that was clever, Private?”  Sarge asked.

 

I didn’t regret it, I did it for the Company.  “The guys needed something, Sarge.  We were at each other’s throats.  Maybe it wasn’t the smartest plan, but I knew we couldn’t come out of this without a victory of some kind.  This was all I could come up with to get everyone back to thinking like we were all on the same team.  And feeling like we were soldiers.  Besides, Sergeants, you were going to kick us when we were down.  I don’t know what you had planned for last night, but we were done with the bullshit.”

 

“He’s got a point, Walters.” Horvath interjected.

 

Sarge glared at me, but something told me his heart wasn’t in it.  “Too clever for your own good… Assmunch.” And I knew the official part of the debrief was over.  There might be further repercussions, but I could trust Sarge to be fair.  And of course, an ass raping by Horvath wasn’t anything I was worried about or fearing.  If it happened, it happened.  I could take the pain.  I didn’t think it would though.  “Gonna have to report it to El Tee, you know that.”

 

“I know, Sarge.  If it’s not too much to ask, I’ll take the hit.  Leave my brothers out of it.  It really was my plan.”

 

Horvath crossed his arms.  “Oh, we got the message loud and clear they all were following you into this game.  You want to know why we didn’t give you a fight, after we were tied up in the field?”

 

I scowled.  “I’m getting the impression I missed something.  I don’t like it.”

 

Sarge smiled.  Cocky fuck.  “Relax, you couldn’t know.  But you’ll know now.  Hand signs.  We ONLY decided to ride this out because you were the one in charge.  You weren’t going to do anything stupid or extreme, and you wouldn’t be talked into crossing the line.  Good move having your team take on Horvath.  Those three were probably the only ones who Horvath respected enough not to break their legs, solid, steady men those three.  Me, I could have resisted and gotten away any time I wanted.  Half of us could have.  Don’t be so proud that you got us earlier than your deadline.  It happened because we let it happen.”

 

I missed them communicating with each other, never saw a thing.  Suddenly I realized how all of this could have gone so wrong.  The whole company could have paid the price.  I must have turned white as a sheet.

 

“Too clever by half, I’d say.  He just unraveled it.”  Sarge said to Horvath.

 

Who grinned.

 

Wait… wait one fucking minute.

 

Oh hell no.  I was being played, I was almost certain of it.  Horvath’s grin was too relieved.  Like he WANTED me to buy it, hook line and sinker.  And once I went where they lead me, far too self congratulatory.  The nervous twitchy glance.  There were no hand signs at the fire in the field, I never took my eyes off them.  I didn’t miss anything.  The other Sergeants were really pissed, they didn’t want to sit there in the dirt all night in front of this cocky Private.  They were spread out, facing forward, it was dark, no head could turn to watch intricate signs being made behind anyone’s back, especially with fire blindness.

 

Okay, you fuckers, how do I play this?  I kept my face schooled, not letting on I had figured out their game.  Do I let them save face?  Do I call them on their bullshit?  I decided.

 

I stepped back to the doorway and called out.  “ZEUS!”  And stepped back inside.

 

“Just between us, Sergeants.” I said.  Zeus darted in seconds later.

 

“Sergeant.  Sergeant. Assmunch.” He addressed us.

 

“Zeus, did Sergeant Horvath put up a fight when you, Sleeper, and Troll captured him?” I asked, watching Sarge and Horvath closely.  They both stared straight ahead, giving away nothing.

 

Zeus grinned.  “Oh yes he did.  It was amazing.”

 

“And how did you incapacitate him?”  I asked, smirking.

 

“That will be all Private Gunnerson” Sarge interrupted.  “Dismissed”

 

“Yes Sergeant!” Zeus shot out the door behind us.

 

“Fucker.” Horvath grunted.

 

“Just between us.  Good try though, Sarge.  I’m actually happy you tried.  I feel even better now.” I beamed.

 

“Get out of my sight, Private.” He growled.

 

“Yes, Sergeant!” I bellowed.

 

I turned on my heel and toe, proper as you please to leave.

 

“Not a word, Assmunch.”

 

I whipped back around, attention.  “Understood, Sergeant.”  I looked at Horvath who looked to be holding back a laugh.  “Sergeant.”  I executed my about face once again, and left with a smile they couldn’t see, even though they had to know I was grinning like a fool.  I remembered where I was and immediately wiped it off my face.  It wouldn’t do if the brothers saw me leaving with a smile.  That would send the wrong message.  I almost ran into Demon coming the other way.  Sarge’s uniform looking neat, and even somewhat pressed.

 

“Help him like you were his personal slave, Demon.  You know Sarge likes to look pretty.  And he’s OUR Sarge.  We want our Sarge to be the best, always.  Apologize again.”   I felt a presence behind me.  I looked to find Sarge and Horvath.

 

“Pretty?” Sarge argued.

 

“Yes Sergeant, the prettiest.”  I returned.

 

“Why aren’t YOU OUT OF MY SIGHT PRIVATE?”

 

I double timed it out of there before I got myself in more trouble.

 

*************************

SLEEPER AND ZEUS

*************************

We were all taking it easy in the barracks, enjoying our Saturday after the long sleepless night before.  Most of us had slept in the transport on the hour long drive back to post.  Showered and naked, or in our underwear, we cleaned our area and bartered for someone to do our laundry tomorrow.  Some of the guys were talking about tonight’s party and picking a bitch to make the beer run to the PX.  I stayed out of it.  I was worrying about Andrew and if he was catching hell for our stunt yesterday.  I was laying on my rack going through my training manual for the current section.  Maps, plotting and navigation.

 

“Sleeper, can I talk to you?”  I heard Zeus’ amazing deep voice behind me.

 

“Sure Zeus.”  I froze for a moment when I looked at him.  He looked good shaved clean like that.  Very dangerous.  Even more dangerous than with hair.  I looked like a clown compared to him, and I was very easy on the eyes, I knew.  “Uh, what’s up?”

 

Zeus sat down next to me.  He was wearing Army sweatpants and a Tee shirt that barely fit his bulky chest and shoulders.  I saw his eyes glance down at my naked white ass.  Then they traveled up my defined muscular back.  He took his time.  I waited.  Zeus could check me out all he wanted.  It didn’t feel dirty or gay the way he did it.  It felt good that he was appreciative of the hard work I put into training my body.  When a physical specimen at the peak of masculinity checks you out, it’s definitely a compliment.  I felt the same way when the jacked up guys at the gym gave me a once over.  I don’t think he even thought about being self conscious about staring at me, it was more like he had the right to inspect my nakedness at his discretion.  Hard to argue with that.

 

“Do you think Andrew is in trouble?” he asked, when he was finished.

 

“Who knows, Zeus?  It’s hard to figure out the Sarge.  He always seems mad.  But I hope not.”

 

“Me too, Sleeper.”

 

Suddenly, Zeus’ hand was on my back.  I froze again.  It wasn’t a hesitant, tentative touch.  It assumed ownership, no permission necessary.  He began moving it over my muscles, massaging, examining.

 

“Uh, Zeus…” I stuttered.  Anyone else did that and they’d be knocked on the ground.

 

“Your skin is so pale.” Zeus observed.  “It’s nice.”

 

Holy fuck was this happening?  “Uh….thanks.”

 

He stopped moving his hand, right above my ass.  I felt my face flush, but I still didn’t move.  His hand felt good, but I was also weirded out.

 

“Is this bothering you?” He asked casually, no different than the way someone would ask what kind of juice I liked with breakfast.  Like he didn’t see this as anything strange.

 

“Uh, a little, yeah.”  I managed to get out.  I hated myself for liking his attention, and hated that I couldn’t let him touch me like this at the same time.  “Zeus, you can’t do this.  Especially not here.”  Out in the open where everyone could see.

 

Fuck, Zeus finally comes out of his shell and this is what he does?  I was afraid to move, I felt cornered.  The worst part of it was that I knew if he went further I wouldn’t or couldn’t stop him, and I hated the feeling of being powerless.  I was a man, but a real man wouldn’t let this happen.  I closed my eyes.  My mind was scattered, racing in five different directions.  Why wasn’t Andrew here, he’d know how to handle this.  Was Zeus really coming onto me or was this just innocent misguided male appreciation?  Were any of the brothers watching?  I should have worn underwear or shorts, something as a barrier to being felt up.  I liked Zeus, worshipped him actually, how could he make me feel this way?  I felt like crying.  But the absolute worst part was feeling my dick getting hard, the way my body liked his touch while my brain screamed no.  I felt myself begin to panic.

 

“Yeah, hold him down Zeus, I got next!” I heard Troll say from the other side.  Then the cot moved and Troll threw his weight on top of me.  I felt Troll’s fully clothed body smother me.  Zeus’ hand was gone, and I was instantly relieved.  Troll started dry humping my ass, grunting in fake ecstasy.  “Oh yeah, so tight bro!”

 

“You think that shit’s free, Troll?” I found my voice.  “You can’t afford my fine ass.  You got five seconds to get off me!” I growled.

 

Troll pinned my shoulders, thrusting harder.  “I only need three.  I’m gonna nut, bro!  Ahhhhh, here it comes!” And he had a WAY over-acted fake orgasm, bouncing me violently against the mattress.  He climbed off and smacked my ass.  “Best piece of ass I’ve ever had.  Hope you’re on the pill, I’m too young to be a dad.”

 

Seeing my out, I leapt up and started chasing him.

 

Zeus was watching, still sitting on my rack.  “Get him, Zeus!” I yelled.  “Hold him down for me!”

 

Zeus was fast.  Troll was scooped up and thrown over Zeus’ shoulder in no time.  Troll was beating his fists against Zeus’ back, but it looked like he was trying to punch an oak tree.  It was funny how Troll had no defense against Zeus.  Zeus just picked him up like a bag of dog food.

 

“Where do you want him, Sleeper?”

 

“Throw him on that bunk.  Pin him, and hold his arms.  It’s payback time.”

 

“No!  Sleeper!  C’mon bro.”  Troll pleaded.  Zeus was sitting on top of his hips, holding his wrists to the bed.

 

“Not so tough anymore, huh?” I teased.  I was taking my time walking over.  I exaggerated the swing of my hips, making my cock and balls sway left and right as my thick muscular thighs punched them outward with every step.  I loved the way my dick flopped like that.  “You gonna take your punishment like a man, or like a little bitch?”  Zeus was fixated on me.  Ah well, even though encouraging him wasn’t smart, I had to show him that playful contact was the way we did things.  “You wanna fuck around?  Zeus here is my protector, right Zeus?”

 

Zeus nodded.  “Right Sleeper!”

 

I stood on the bunk over Troll’s head.  “Sleeper!  I take it back!  Don’t do it!” Troll begged.

 

I looked at Zeus, who couldn’t take his eyes off my junk just a foot away from his face.  Yeah, Assmunch and I would have to have a talk about Zeus.  “What do you think, Zeus?” I asked.  “Should I forgive him?”

 

“Tell him to forgive me!” Troll commanded.  He may as well have been talking to a wall.

 

Zeus surprised me.  “He should have treated you like a gentleman, Sleeper.  He needs to pay for what he did.” With the most absolute sincerity that I think I’ve ever heard.  A warm feeling coursed through me with the words.  And relief.  Zeus would never force himself on me.  It was obvious he didn’t have a lot of experience interacting with people in general, or us.  And I realized then Zeus had stopped and asked if he was bothering me because he cared about how I felt.  And with that thought, the feeling of being dirty, the fear of being cornered, the nausea over being touched intimately by another dude… it all faded away.

 

“Hear that, Troll?  I’m a gentleman.  You buy me dinner first.”  And I smiled at Zeus, who smiled back with every fiber of his happy heart.

 

And then I crushed my junk and ass into Troll’s ugly face, swirling my hips around, while I counted to ten.  This fucker was going to get dickwiped.

 

When I was done, I stepped off.  “Thanks for your help, Zeus.  You can let him up.”

 

“Ugh, disgusting pervert!” Troll spat.

 

I busted out laughing when Zeus gave Troll a playful slap, saying “That’s Sir Pervert, to you, Troll.  I think it’s your turn to be Bitch tonight.”

 

I’d never seen this side of Zeus.  He actually did know how to have fun.  He caught on fast.  Including him was the right way to go.  And Bitch was the first halfway dirty word I’d ever heard come out of his mouth.  Today was full of surprises.

 

“What?  That’s not fair!” Troll scowled as he got up.

 

“You think anyone is going to argue with Zeus?” I grinned back at him.  I was back in a great mood.

 

“Fuck you!” Troll snarled.  Then he remembered who he was talking to.  “Not you, Zeus.  I meant Sleeper.”

 

Zeus reached out to grab Troll’s neck, an angry look on his face.  Before he could get Troll’s thick neck in his giant paw, I put my hand on Zeus’ arm.  “Relax, Zeus, he’s playing.”

 

Zeus backed down, but his eyes were VERY displeased.  “He shouldn’t say bad words at you Sleeper.”

 

Oh God, what I have I done?  “Troll is our brother.  Brothers fight.  It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other.  Right Troll?”

 

“Right, Sleeper.  I love you, brother.  Even though my face smells like your dick now.”  And Troll gave me a hug.  “Still sucks I gotta be Bitch though.”

 

Zeus appeared to calm down.  But he crossed his huge arms and looked down at us.  “Well he better not say bad words at me.  I don’t like them.”  He looked like fuckin’ Mr. Clean in that pose, with that glare.

 

“We’ll make sure everyone knows, Zeus.  But I’m okay if they say them to me, alright.”  I explained.  How come it felt like I was talking to my kid brother in middle school, instead of a 19 year old giant God?  I was so confused… put Zeus in any training module and you couldn’t touch him, he seemed like he was ten years older than the rest of us in confidence, bravado, ability, and expression.  But outside of training, he seemed like a kid.  A dangerous giant jacked up bull of kid, but still a kid.

 

Zeus shrugged.  “If that’s what you want, Sleeper.”  I felt lucky the guy had a thing for me.  I wouldn’t want to be in Troll’s shoes.

 

Then we spread the word that Zeus decreed that Troll was our Bitch tonight, and Troll headed out to the PX for tonight’s snacks and alcohol, grumbling the whole time.  He shut up though, every time Zeus gave him a look.  Being overseas in a foreign country, on a relatively small training base like ours meant no vehicle transportation, and limited opportunities to go off post.  Those of us here for AIT were kept pretty locked down, which sucked.  It was smart, though, from the Army’s point of view.  19 year old American military boys who were pent up and frustrated would be hell on the closest towns and city, even if we had a way to get there.  We envied the Specialists and Senior NCO’s for their freedom.  Newly minted PFC’s like us were kept virtual prisoners.

 

That was the deception of the military.  In basic, as a green recruit, or Cherry as we’d been called, we lived for the day we’d be out of Basic and become real soldiers.  Only to find out we were limited in freedom and movement as Private Second Class E-2s which didn’t happen fast enough after Basic.  Ironic, wasn’t it, that we were told we were fighting for freedom while giving up our own?  We’d be told at every opportunity that we weren’t real soldiers YET.  Then getting our mosquito wing insignia ( fuckin’ FINALLY a single chevron ) after slow passing months.  Then  when we finally reach PFC E-3 we’d discover the game of carrot on a just out of reach stick we’d get our rocker and wouldn’t consider ourselves lowly privates anymore, even though we would be.  We’d be long gone from AIT before we saw E-3.  You went nowhere without time in grade.  So then we all looked forward to Specialist which meant we were through with training and bullshit and could call ourselves true soldiers.  I couldn’t wait to never be called Private again.  (Hah!  Through with training… not in the Army) You starting to get the gist of it?  Every promotion felt like you’d be better off, right up until you reached it and realized it was not much better than lower rank in any meaningful way, and wanted the next rank which seemed so much more free and worthy.  That was deliberate.  The Army knew how to keep the mule plodding forward.  Hell, we didn’t even rate dorm style housing quarters with our own room with a door on this crappy post, like other bases had.  Gotta love the Infantry.  But I thought it was cool that we were a NATO training base, which meant we did get some interaction with allied forces.  Not much, but guest instructors and the occasional junior soldier appeared for some sections of our training.  For some of us, it was a wake up call that the world was bigger than we thought, and other countries had proud, dedicated soldiers just like we did.

 

I needed Assmunch to get back.  We needed to talk about a couple things.  Where the fuck was he?  The longer he was gone, the more I worried we had fucked up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ASSMUNCH

******************

 

“Why is it always you Bravos?” The Lt. complained.

 

I started to answer, opening my mouth.

 

“That was rhetorical, Private.”  Sarge growled from behind me.

 

I didn’t think it was.  Private Lamont was standing at attention next to me.  By his very presence, ‘always’ was incorrect.  But okay.  If the Lt didn’t know Lamont was a Charlie it wasn’t my place to point that out.

 

Lt. FUHA, paced behind his desk.  I was relieved that my first act when I got back was to shave my head properly.  It wouldn’t do to be called in front of the Lt out of grooming discipline.  We all took turns shaving each other’s skulls, all of us naked except for Zeus.  Demon complained, but did it anyway.  It was the terms of our surrender.  They understood.  Impossibly, Zeus looked even more deadly and serious, like some villain from a comic book.

 

“Were operations disrupted?” El Tee asked.

 

“No sir.  Maneuvers and training were concluded.  Camp function did not deteriorate.  Order was maintained surprisingly well considering it was run by a group of barely adult idiots, sir.”  Sergeant Horvath reported.  Kiss my ass, Sergeant Charlie.  Kiss my tight white ass.

 

“We’re any regulations broken?”

 

“Several, sir.”

 

“Any that can’t be overlooked?”

 

“None, sir.”

 

“Did anyone disobey orders?”

 

“No orders were given, Sir”

 

El Tee looked at me and Lamont.  “Do you know what it’s called when soldiers revolt?”

 

I swallowed.

 

Lamont answered.  “Mutiny, sir.”

 

I didn’t think this truly classified as a revolt.  But technically, I guess it did.

 

“And what’s the punishment for mutiny, Private?”  He looked at Lamont.

 

“Court Martial, sir.  Dishonorable discharge.  Or worse, Imprisonment or Death.”

 

I was starting to sweat.  Lamont , from the corner of my eye, appeared relaxed and unworried.

 

The Lieutenant came around his desk to look me in the eye.  He didn’t miss my freshly shaved head.  A momentary grin appeared, and was squashed.  What did Wanker call it?  The return of Officer Tired of My Bullshit?  That probably wasn’t fair.  Just by the questions he was asking I sensed Lt. Jones was a decent guy.  He could easily have hung us by a rope.

 

“Been a while since death was sentenced, did you know that?” The Lieutenant mused.

 

“Rhetorical “ I heard Sarge whisper.

 

Lamont and I didn’t move a muscle.

 

“You held U.S. Army Sergeants prisoner?  Restrained?  All night?   Were you ordered to release them?”  The Lieutenant asked.

 

“The Sergeants were gagged, Sir.  They could not give an order.”  I offered.

 

He rubbed his eyes.  “And gagged.  I’m getting a headache.  I’m just going to start calling my headaches ‘Bravo’ from now on.”  The El Tee went back around his desk to sit down.  He put both hands palm down on his desk.

 

“Sergeant Horvath, you and your soldier are dismissed.”

 

“Yes, Sir.  With me, Private.” Horvath barked.

 

After they left, the Lieutenant stared at me for a few minutes.  I kept my eyes on the wall ahead of me, perfect still.

 

“Are you going career, Private?” He asked out of the blue.

 

I stiffened up, putting Attention to my attention.  “If the Army will have me, Sir.  My Father is career.  I’ve always wanted to be Army, like him, Sir.”

 

“The Army doesn’t hand out step increases or rank like candy, Private.  You have to stay on top, constantly test in the highest percentile, move up before time runs out on your enlistment.  Have you thought about going for a commission?  Being an officer?”

 

I shook my head.  “Sir, NCO is good enough for me Sir.  Wanted to go for Ranger School, Sir.”

 

“You can still be a Ranger as an officer.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Your ASVAB scores tell me you’re a good candidate, your AIT evaluations so far are exemplary.  Except for this little adventure, Sergeant Walters tells me you are an exceptional soldier, and I’m still trying to figure out if the way you ran this mutinous operation outweighs the stupidity of it.  You gained the trust of your men, even the Charlies which I wouldn’t have bet money on, and they followed you in spite of Private Lamont knowing full well what doing so meant.”  He explained.

 

Ahhhhhh, so that was why Sergeant Horvath and Lamont were here.

 

The Lieutenant continued.  “Alpha, Charlie and Delta Sergeants reported they were treated very well, and you and Lamont had your soldiers operating like a fine tuned, efficient machine.  The Army knows it’s difficult to teach that kind of leadership.  I’m ordering you to keep your nose clean while finishing AIT, no more stunts like this.  And keep your squad in line, as well as the Bravos.  Am I clear?”

 

“Sir, yes Sir!”  I knew he was talking about reining in Wanker and Bootlicker, the pranksters.  Wanker wouldn’t be a problem, Horvath had put the fear of horsecock in him.  Bootlicker was going to be a little work, but he wasn’t an actor so much as an instigator.  Bootlicker let others do his dirty work.

 

“Dismissed.”

 

“Yes Sir!  Private, fall out.” Sarge answered.

 

I saluted the Lieutenant.  Turned and left through the door, Sarge following.  I decided right then I would stop thinking of or referring to the Lieutenant as Lt. FUHA.  He wasn’t the kind of officer my father hated.

 

“Eyes forward, Private.  My office.”

 

We reached the Sergeants area at the end of the hall, and I turned right.  We passed by each office, but I didn’t dare look anywhere but in front.

 

“You want to do this in mine?” I heard Sarge say to someone behind me.  I continued to Sarge’s doorway, went in.  I stood in front of his desk at attention.  If this was an ass raping, I truly deserved it.  He was probably talking to Sergeant Horvath.  Sarge’s office was just like him - neat, organized, without a lot of decoration or unnecessary clutter.  Files were stacked corner to corner in a precise pile, the papers inside them also perfectly lined up.

 

Sure enough Horvath walked in with Sarge.  “Close the door, Private.”

 

I turned to see Lamont, which was a surprise.  Lamont closed the door.  I turned back around and came to attention again.  Lamont stood at attention beside me.

 

Sarge sighed.  “At ease, grunts.”  Now he started rubbing his eyes.  Horvath just stood there, a bemused look graced his swarthy face.

 

“Alright, I’m almost certain Assmunch here could read what just happened.  So Private Lamont, why don’t you amaze us with your staggering intellect.”  Sarge said.

 

I hadn’t read shit, just the fact I almost lead my entire Company who trusted me into committing the second worst crime you could commit in the military.  Treason was, of course, first.

 

“Yes Sergeant.  The Lieutenant is not in my chain of command, nor Sergeant Horvath’s.  My Lieutenant was not present.  The other squad leaders were not present, nor were any of the other sergeants or Lieutenants.”

 

“So that tells you what?”  Horvath spoke up.

 

“This wasn’t going to be a general disciplinary action.  Nor was it going to be official.”  Lamont replied.

 

Sarge had given me too much credit. I figured out none of that.  And who the fuck was Lamont, throwing out ‘nor’ into sentences like he was reading a fancy book?  Who does that?

 

“And how do you know there won’t be official disciplinary action in the future?”

 

Lamont shrugged.  “I guess there could be Sergeant, but Brickmann and I were brought in together, with our Sergeants.  That’s not usually how general disciplinary action goes.”

 

Horvath chuckled.  “Yeah you’d know about that, wouldn’t you?”

 

Lamont blushed.  Oh, we got a bad boy.  I took a second look at Lamont.

 

“Brickmann, care to chime in?”

 

How far did I dare to take this?  I decided this wasn’t the time for verbal games.  “I got lucky, Sarge.  We all got lucky, but I doubt if this all went south you would have hung everyone up.  I admitted I planned it all, convinced the entire company through the squad leaders to follow me.  I should have seen the bigger picture.”

 

Horvath and Sarge shared a look.  “Where’s that cocky Private eating his MRE with a knife who lectured me about being a prisoner? I liked that guy.”

 

“Standing here ashamed, Sarge.  The Lieutenant was right, what we did was technically mutiny.”

 

Horvath stepped forward.  “It was also technically NOT mutiny.  At any other time this week it would have been.  At any other time in your career, it would have been.  Think about why the Lieutenant asked the questions he did.”

 

Orders, regulations, operations.

 

“Intent rarely matters in the Army, Private, but in this case it did.  This wasn’t about overthrow of command or revolt, or disobeying orders. We could clearly see that.  Except for still being out on training maneuvers in the field, you were all technically off duty and training was done.  For you, and them, it was about working as a unit, protecting the Company, turning failure into success.  This is training, this is when you learn those things.  Failing is important, but so is creating success.  The Sergeants were impressed, even as pissed as they were, that you could guide this group of grunts through this operation so cleanly.  You improved morale.  And you were right, we were hitting you boys really hard.  So you see, it’s not too hard for us and the Lieutenants to see this for what it was - a misguided prank.  Horvath and I actually had a good time relaxing by the fire, watching you and Lamont here do some bonding.  And you got the camp packed up, without your troops grumbling.  You anticipated your superiors.  You fit your plan and objectives to the situation.  You made many decisions that demonstrated quality, respect, focused on unit performance, never taking your eye off your objective, covering every angle.  And you stepped up and put yourself out front to protect your men.  Frankly, you did our job for us while we got to sit around and be lazy.”

 

I thought about it, how it all happened.  So many things could have gone wrong.  “I got lucky nothing went wrong, no one acted up and did anything stupid.”

 

Sarge shook his head.  “I don’t think you get it, Brickmann.  Things didn’t go wrong and no one did anything stupid, because YOU were leading them.  Private Lamont , do you think you could have pulled this off?”

 

“Honestly, not in the timeframe he did it, Sergeant.  Maybe eventually, but I would have had problems with a few of the squad leaders.”  Lamont answered.

 

“And why did YOU go along with this?”  Sarge asked him.

 

“Him.  His confidence.  His plan was exactly what we needed to get refocused, without being juvenile or poorly hatched.  He spread out command, didn’t show favoritism, or give his squad special treatment.  And he apologized straight to my face for what Private Sendahl had done, without being a jackass, or being a weasel. That took a lot.  Earned our respect.  I got the feeling Private Brickmann was a straightforward standup soldier, Sergeant.”

 

I was floored.  Is that the vibe I gave off?  That’s not what I was trying to do.

 

“Would you have followed anyone else, Lamont?”  Horvath asked.

 

“Maybe The big guy, Gunnerson.  Something about him.  Never spoken to the guy, but the way he carries himself reminds me a lot of you, Sergeant.”

 

I had no problem agreeing with that assessment.  I’d have followed Zeus too.  He was capable, serious, determined, and seemed far older than 19 years old.

 

“Like the Lt said, keep your nose clean, both of you.  Look, we know you’re just kids, we’re trying to turn you into soldiers and you’re not as close to that as you think you are.  Letting off a little steam is expected, but there’ll be no more bullshit tolerated.”  Sarge told us.

 

“Understood, Sergeant.”  I agreed.

 

“Yes Sergeant.” Lamont followed.  I had no idea what was happening with the Charlies, but I got the sense the Bravos weren’t the only headache in the Company.

 

“Dismissed.”

 

**************************************

 

SLEEPER AND ASSMUNCH

**************************************

 

“I gotta talk to you, Assmunch.”  Sleeper pulled me aside the minute I got back.  He told me about what happened with Zeus.

 

“I think Zeus is gay, dude.”  He finished with a whisper.

 

I sighed.  I suddenly got a glimpse of maybe how Sarge and the Lieutenant felt when they had to deal with our fuck-ups.  I didn’t have the mental energy for this.

 

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, buddy.” I replied with sarcasm.  “Just got chewed out for mutiny, nothing serious.”

 

“Shit!  Bro, are they gonna court martial you?”  He shot back.

 

I held a hand up.  “Relax, no one’s getting court martialed.  And keep your voice down.  I’d be sitting in a cell if that happened, not talking with you.  But getting talked through it almost had me shitting in my pants.”  I didn’t want to tell my best friend about the Lieutenant’s talk of Officer.  There wasn’t anything certain there.  I know he was just putting the idea in my head, and that a lot of things had to happen before the possibility even appeared on the horizon.  But why did it feel like Lt was offering me the opportunity?  We had five more weeks of AIT to go, and nothing was going to happen before then anyway.  You didn’t just get promoted to Lieutenant like in the movies.  It meant a college degree first, something I didn’t have the money for.  Not to mention I wasn’t even sure I WANTED to be an officer.  My dad always called them useless.  Of course, my dad wasn’t Infantry.  I don’t know, it was all flying around in my head.  Too much to siphon through.  And now Big Gay Zeus on the verge of blowing a Big Gay Hole in our barracks brotherhood, which absolutely could not happen.  Not only did I want to keep Zeus from getting booted, I didn’t want Sarge and the Lieutenant, or the brothers for that matter, to go through any kind of investigation which would uncover way too many things happening in Bravo Platoon.  And while I trusted most of my squad, Bootlicker was a weak link.  And Puta worried me too if it came to supporting a gay brother.  I knew I had to get Zeus to rein it in.  I was not going to lose our Gay God if I could help it.

 

“Get some clothes on, bro.  And go get Zeus, wherever he’s at.  Let’s go get chow and sit down to talk.” I told Sleeper.

 

“Yeah, fuck I’m hungry.”   Sleeper never got UNhungry.

 

[barebackbro]

On 1/23/2022 at 2:50 PM, ejaculaTe said:

Jeezus H. Crisco.... 

I'm so stealing that phrase!

[Assmunch]

** So one event in the following chapter actually happened.  The part about the soldier who got booted.  That was what happened to my now husband, and it affected him for 20 years until he reconnected with the guys from his unit on Facebook.   All that time he was ashamed, and thought all his brothers thought of him as a dirty faggot that didn’t belong with them, only to find out they all loved him and never stopped thinking of him as a brother.  They told him that when they found out what the asshole had done to him, they made his life a living hell until command had no choice but to PCS him elsewhere.  Many of them had been on the receiving end of my husband’s back rubs, and they weren’t bothered in the least by the news he was gay.  My husband’s confidence soared, and it changed him.  That’s the power of brotherhood.  
 

At the post cafeteria Sleeper, Zeus and I grabbed some food.  Zeus of course getting a few stares, from women and men.  He was oblivious.  Sleeper got a couple.  Me, nothing.  Not next to those two.  I was lucky if they even recognized there was another soldier with them.  We sat down at a table away from anyone else.

 

I just came out and asked, keeping my voice low.  “Zeus, are you gay?”

 

The big beast looked at me, his stony face unreadable.  Then he looked at Sleeper.  Still nothing.

 

“Bro, we don’t care if you are.” Sleeper told him.  “You’re cool with us.  We just need to know, to protect you.”

 

Zeus looked around, gauging who might be nearby.  “Yes.  I just think about guys, all the time.  I can’t stop. ” He said in that deep voice.  “And Sleeper.  I think about Sleeper a lot.  You guys don’t hate me, do you?”  It was funny the way he said it, you couldn’t tell if he was worried, or afraid, or doing his laundry.  It sounded like he was describing how he made his bed in the morning.  Casual tone, inflection.  I knew from my time with Kevin that gay dudes could be masculine, real men rather than effeminate sissies like most people thought.  And you could count on Zeus to put it bluntly.  Zeus didn’t equivocate.  He came right out and spoke his mind.

 

I let Sleeper go first.  Knowing Zeus was crushing on him meant Sleeper’s response was way more important to Zeus than mine would be.  Besides, I’d already kinda told him I didn’t care last week when we had our first talk.

 

“Bro, it’s cool.” Sleeper began.  “We love you.”  Zeus’ facade crumbled just a touch.   “You gotta keep it cool though.  No doing what you did today in my bunk.  You know they’ll boot you if it gets around.”  I was glad that even without talking about it, Sleeper and I were on the same page.  Man, I loved my dude.  “And if you do want to touch my ass, or anyone else’s, it’s gotta be a game, like what Troll did.  But stay away from Puta.  Don’t know how he’d take it.”

 

I continued, “And we have to keep the Bravo Brotherhood out of trouble.  El Tee doesn’t want any more bad behavior out of us.  Zero.  We’ve fucked up too many times.” I explained.  “No one should know about this, about you. So don’t go around grabbing the guys.  Probably best you don’t do any of that.  If someone takes offense, it’ll get bad.  I heard about a guy on base who gave out too many back rubs.  One of the guys he massaged claimed sexual assault.  The guy was gone the same day.  His unit came back from class and he was cleared out.  When they found out what happened they gave the accuser hell until he was transferred out.  It didn’t matter they all liked the guy who’d been booted, or whether it was true.  They never even got the chance to stick up for him, he was just gone from a single accusation.  We don’t want to lose you like that, buddy.”

 

Zeus gave me a look.  “What about Wanker?”

 

“Nah, Wanker has bigger problems, trust me.  I can’t betray his confidence, but I’ll tell you as far as he’s concerned you were doing HIM a favor.”  I answered.  “Wanker doesn’t know or think you’re gay.  I didn’t tell him anything.”

 

“Wait, what?”  My pale muscle buddy cried out, around a mouthful of hamburger.  “What about Wanker?”

 

I looked at Zeus, shrugged.  “It’s up to you.  But I’d tell him.  You can trust Sleeper.”

 

Sleeper looked from Zeus, to me, then back to Zeus.

 

“I had sex with Wanker last Saturday.” Zeus said.  Again, just picking up the mail.  Starting a car.  Brushing his teeth.  Same tone of voice.  I had to learn that skill.  You can’t read someone that spoke like that.  Plus, it really throws people off to just blurt things out.

 

Sleeper choked a little on his most recent bite.  “Excuse me?  I think I need a little more info than that, bro.”

 

I liked that he was calling Zeus his bro, now.

 

“Assmunch told me Wanker had a problem, asked me to get him sorted.” Sleeper explained.

 

Sleeper looked at me.  “That was your ‘project’ last Saturday before we -“ he caught himself just in time.  “Did you fuck Wanker too?  Is that why Zeus was guarding the hallway?” he spat out.  “ I can tell if you lie to me.  You better not lie to me, asshole.” Sleeper looked angry.  Shit, this was getting out of my control.

 

I tilted my head back to look at the ceiling and gather my thoughts.  “No, buddy, that’s why I sent Zeus in, I wasn’t gonna do it.  Didn’t want to do it.  And I kinda figured out Zeus needed a little something himself.  I was trying to solve everyone’s problems.”  I sighed.

 

“You’re fucking DAMN lucky you didn’t, dude.  I’ll beat your ass.” Sleeper growled.  The threat was real.  I saw it in his eyes.

 

Oh.  Fuck me.  What was that about?

 

“Before you and Assmunch what, Sleeper?” Zeus asked.  I cringed.  Zeus just throwing shit out there like people casually talked about butt fucking and ass sucking while eating in a cafeteria.  In an Army cafeteria.

 

“Huh?  Nothing Zeus.”  Sleeper dodged, taking his last bite of his second hamburger.

 

“Sounds like—-“

 

fuck, don’t say it Zeus, leave it.

 

“Like you and Andrew had sex too.” He finished.  Zeus already knew about how I tongue polished Sleeper’s crack, and the handjob I got in return.  But this question implied he figured out more had gone down last week.

 

He said it out loud.  I loved Zeus, but wished for the days he barely spoke.  Right out there.  ‘I’m going to brush my teeth’ ‘we need resupply.’  ‘You’re fucking your best friend’.

 

I wanted to die.  Why was this my life?  Fucking bloody rotten hell.  I put my head in my hands, waiting for Sleeper to explode.

 

And nothing.  Everything became eerily still.  No movement, no words.  That couldn’t be good.  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, steeling myself for the worst.  I looked up.

 

Sleeper was just staring at Zeus.  Zeus was staring back like he hadn’t said anything wrong.  A long, uncomfortable staring.  While I willed myself to die.  Dying a coward seemed just perfect right about now.  I could be buried and on my way to Hell without dealing with this shit show.  A full minute passed.  Could I make it to Hell in a minute or less?  I so wanted to try.

 

Sleeper looked at me.  I know I was all shades of red.  Then back at Zeus.  This could only go one way, and Sleeper was already pissed off about Operation Rebuild Wanker’s Ruined Dirty Donut.  Sleeper’s face was blank, unreadable.  He was barely breathing.

 

Then my best friend seemed to reach a decision, he finally blinked, picking up a couple French fries from his plate.

 

“Yep”.  Was all he said, dipping his fries in ketchup before shoving them in his mouth.

 

“Fuck, Sleeper! Dude!!”  I said.

 

“What?  It’s Zeus.  He’s gay, he gets it.  Right bro?”  Sleeper shrugged at Zeus, who was grinning.

 

I guess he had a point.

 

And then fuckin’ puppy dog pajamas Zeus appeared.  “Are you guys gay too? Did you ask me if I was gay because you want to have sex?  I want to have sex with you, especially Sleeper.  Putting it in Wanker was okay, but I really like you guys.  It would be more fun with you.  I like sex now.  I never had sex before I put my penis in Wanker, but it was really fun, just like you said, Assmunch.  I want to put my penis in you and Sleeper.  Can I?”

 

Goddamn.  Goddammit ALL to hell.  I’m not sure how much more of this blunt open Zeus I could take.  I mean, I was happy he was out of his shell with us, but I wondered if the Zeus we all knew was simply the persona he hid behind to cover up being gay, not letting any emotion out, not hanging out for long periods of time, keeping to himself.  I felt a little sad that Zeus couldn’t be himself.  Fuck this stupid military policy against gays.  If guys like Zeus couldn’t serve without crushing their souls, it was fucking bullshit.  None of us knew that it would only be a year before Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell became the rule.  It still meant keeping quiet about it, but the military wasn’t going to hunt you down like it was now.  But I knew one thing:  puppy dog pajamas Zeus was one happy puppy, and he had to keep that cute puppy locked up all the time, deep inside.  That’s some fucking sad pathetic shit, right there.

 

Sleeper and I looked at each other.  I didn’t know what to say.

 

“Let me and Assmunch talk about it, okay Zeus?  We’re not gay.  We just like doing some stuff to get off.  Is that cool?”  Sleeper asked.

 

WHAT THE FUCK WAS HAPPENING??

 

“REALLY, Sleeper?” I asked incredulously, taken by complete surprise, and not necessarily pleasantly either.  He was okay with this?

 

Sleeper gave me the exact same look as before.  “What?  It’s ZEUS.” He said again, this time stressing Zeus’ name.  Sleeper’s handsome face said ‘who wouldn’t?’

 

“Yeah, yeah.  I get it.“ I said, throwing my head back in my hands.  He wasn’t wrong.  But this was going to complicate everything.  I guess Sleeper was far more sexually fluid than I thought.  It shouldn’t surprise me though, one lick of his asshole and he was suddenly all about fucking around and getting off.  I wondered if my best friend was holding back on me.  I always assumed he was straight.  Maybe I was wrong about that.  I felt better about stuffing him full of my dick and shooting my load up his ass last week.  Maybe I WOULD fuck him again.  Just to see if he’d love it as much as getting his fudge dispenser scrubbed out by my tongue.  Sleeper was just full of surprises.  And my dick attack up his newly christened virgin fuck chute last week didn’t really qualify as a fucking.  Nowhere near a Kevin style plundering of every tender rectal tissue I owned, bruised, stretched and slathered with multiple loads of dicksoup, until I literally couldn’t speak.  Yeah, I was definitely going to auger out his pretty little dickwarmer until he drooled in senseless ecstasy.

 

“Okay.” Zeus said.  “I really do want to have sex with you guys.”  Big beautiful handsome dangerous smile.

 

Sigh.  So blunt.  “Let’s finish eating and get back.  I need to talk to the Bravo Brotherhood .  And what do you think about asking some of the Charlies to come to our party tonight?”

 

*************************

 

I gathered the Brothers and let them know Sarge and the Lt were on the warpath after our training excursion and we needed to keep the party low key.  We even invited Lamont and a couple of his buddies from the Charlies to party with us, and they fit in well.

 

The highlight of the evening was making Troll ass-chug a beer.  Getting the tube inserted into his hairy shitter was half the battle because he wouldn’t relax.  We were all laughing so hard at how he squirmed and fought, as if it was the worst thing in the world, whining like a little bitch.  I let the fight go on until it seemed everyone had a turn manhandling Troll’s ass before I stepped in, massaged his little tender spot between his tailbone and asshole and the tube slipped right in.    One of the tricks in the asshole whisperer trade.  Shhhhhh.  Keep it to yourself.  By that point everyone had lubed his entire crease with enough spit to drown a whore.  I was sure they all got a kick out of spitting on the poor guy.  Getting him to suck the beer down his hole turned out to be the other half of the battle.  A couple of the guys who’d done it before were trying to give him pointers while he knelt on knees and elbows, his shorts bunched up just below his cheeks so no one had to look at his nuts.  ‘Just relax, man.’  And ‘suck your stomach in.’  Even the unhelpful but amusing ‘spread your legs more, you uptight cunt.’  He finally finished his beer (took 20 minutes, chug fail) and we all congratulated him on a job well done.

 

We wound things up around 23:30.  We could have kept going, but I reminded everyone that we had to be good.  Fortunately there wasn’t a lot of grumbling, everyone was worn out having not gotten a lot of sleep the night before.

 

Sleeper and I did cleanup, releasing Troll from bitch duty.  I knew that beer had to be sloshing around in his hole still.  The alcohol might get absorbed, but the liquid wouldn’t go anywhere until he shit it out.  He had to go get friendly with the toilet and shower.  Everyone else crashed out.  Sleeper and I wanted everyone in deep slumber so we could do our thing.  Zeus helped, and Sleeper and I kept exchanging questioning looks during it all.  We knew why Zeus was hanging around.

 

“Zeus, why don’t you get the garbage to the dumpsters.”  I requested.

 

The giant muscle bound brute gazed at us refusing to move.

 

“Don’t worry, bro.  We’ll be here when you get back.” Sleeper soothed him.

 

When Zeus was gone, I turned to Sleeper.  “Well?  I know you’re thinking about it.  Are you sure about this?  You know what he wants.”

 

Sleeper pursed his lips, and put his hands on his muscled hips.  Every piece of him had muscles.  Rotten handsome prick.  At some point during the party he’d stripped down to just bikini briefs which didn’t do a whole bunch to cover his big meaty white butt or his burgeoned junk mound.  His crack was well exposed at the top, and a good portion of each globe was bared below.  It reminded me of the Australian lifeguards with their tiny swimsuits and the back pulled up inside their crack so they wouldn’t chafe their cheeks.  It was a good thing Sleeper shaved his bush, because the tiny briefs rode down low from the weight of his cock and balls, causing the thick root of his cock to just peek out.  Sleeper loved being naked, and if he couldn’t be naked he wanted to be almost naked.  And he never cared who saw.  Those underwear were intended to leave as little to the imagination as he could get away with, the fabric so worn and thin I suspected he’d owned them for years.  They weren’t tight like a new pair,  he’d stretched the elastic so much with his size that it finally just gave up trying to hold back all that hot meat.  The spot where his cockhead rested had a fingertip sized hole, the pouch almost transparent.  Yeah, those things were on their last leg and Sleeper would probably wear em right up until they collapsed off him, giving out like a tortured prisoner on a medieval rack.  Like I said before, he was a confident, arrogant prick.  Those underwear dared the guys to make fun of him, were designed to draw attention, barely hold or cover his pussy juicer and boulder sized dumper, encourage sexual thoughts and just generally be a tease.   It would have been less sexual and erotic if he were completely naked.  Every time he walked risked them slipping off, and far too often one side or the other would sag down his hip where he’d let it remain until a casual tug set it back in place, half an ass cheek smiling out at everyone.   That cloth defied physics.  And the asshole knew I couldn’t keep my eyes away from the struggle.  Which I was caught up in for the hundredth time tonight as my eyes refused to glance away from his strained pouch.

 

“I’m up for it.  It should be fun.  Are you going to get jealous?”  He replied.  It was nice of him to think of me, but this was all for him.

 

“You mean like you were when you thought I’d fucked Wanker?  Bro, I’m not the jealous type.  If you’re having fun, I’m having fun.  That’s how this works for me.  If you don’t like it, I’m not into it.”  I explained.

 

That threw him a little.  “I don’t know what that was, bro.  I just got angry when I thought you’d fucked him.  I guess I didn’t like that what we do might not be special to you.  This is all new to me.” Gone was the arrogance, and in its place was a sweet vulnerability.  Deep down, Sleeper had the same doubts and uncertainty I had.

 

“It’s new to me too, buddy.  And you make it special.” I assured him.  I’d never been the top.  I’d never eaten a guy’s ass.  Kevin fucked the living shit out of me, almost every day.  We started just including Carol all the time because he rammed me so brutally, so many times, I’d be too worn out to perform for Carol unless she and I had sex first.  And we learned that watching Carol and I play our games first really got Kevin torqued up.  I would invariably end up eating my load out of Carol’s asshole or devouring her pussy while Kevin did his best to ruin and wreck my hole with his doorknob thick jizz missile.  He’d often milk my nut out of the condom I fucked her pussy with, pouring it over her tits so he could lick it up and eat it while plowing me.  It got to the point there was no boyfriend/girlfriend/boyfriend distinction.  Anything was fair game.  Carol ate Kevin’s ass, sucked and licked his dick clean after he got done with me.  We’d all kiss sensually whenever, wherever it grabbed us.  We double fucked Carol, which drove her so insane I felt like a fucking King, and I finally realized how filthy and slutty I looked and sounded when Kevin ripped me apart.  The only thing that never happened was me having anything to do with Kevin’s ass.  And somehow the forbidden nature of leaving the gay dude’s ass untouched while the straight one got violated unforgivably heightened the pleasure of it all.  I’ve come to hate labels and putting relationships in neat little boxes, but in that situation, at that time, the labels made it all so exciting, like we were breaking all the rules.  And it wasn’t always like that.  Frequently it was slow, passionate, full of love where I disappeared, lost in the tenderness of Kevin’s soul.  I would come back to myself locked in his sleeping arms feeling more alive than the time before.  Every moment with him was better than the one before.  In spite of all that, I didn’t feel like I was gay.  This wasn’t about gay or straight.  It was about souls and hearts connecting.  And God bless Carol for understanding that.  Kevin using my hole was no different in my head than him borrowing a shirt to wear to school.

 

I’d told Sleeper about Carol, of course.  And a few things about Kevin.  Up until now, it felt disrespectful to my memory of him to say anything more, and I truly didn’t want to relive it all.  Besides, Kevin belonged to Tom.  And Tom was sealed behind a brick wall in my head.  But it seemed like Sleeper and I might reach a point where I could tell him about it, but only if my heart let me.

 

Man, I was really fucked up about Kevin.  And fucked up about how I had to kill a huge part of myself so I could go live my life.  I guess both Zeus and I had the same sad, pathetic shit going on, burying the happy part of us just to get through accepting we were men who had to do whatever it took to move along.

 

Zeus returned, glad to see us still waiting for him.  His cock tented the front of his Army sweats.

 

“Someone’s excited.” Sleeper chuckled.

 

Zeus’s massive frame walked right up to Sleeper and grabbed him by the head, then laid a tongue lashing on his mouth.  Zeus looked like he was trying to swallow Sleeper whole.  Sleeper gripped Zeus’s arms, then put his hands on the giant’s bulging pecs.

 

Sleeper managed to pull away a bit, Zeus was breathing heavy and hungrily staring at my buddy.

 

“I don’t know about kissing, bro…” Sleeper got out, just barely before Zeus’s mouth crashed back down onto his.  He crushed himself onto Sleeper’s body, snaking his arm over Sleeper’s shoulder to grab his back, his other hand thrusting down to cover Sleepers ass, molesting that beautiful globe of scantily clad muscle.

 

He broke off Sleeper’s mouth, and tongued his way down his chin to his neck, licking, biting, sucking every inch of flesh he could find.  The man was hungry.    

 

“Oh fuck….” Sleeper moaned.  “Wait…Zeus, wait.  We gotta stop.  Not here.”

 

Zeus pulled away, grabbed Sleeper by the hips and just threw him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.  Sleeper had no time to fight back.  Zeus took him to the hall towards the storage room.  Sleeper looked at me from his upside down position, throwing his hands up in a ‘what am I gonna do?’ gesture.  His poor tortured briefs had slipped down to expose his ass, which had Zeus’s big paws grasping both cheeks, his fingers digging into Sleeper’s crack as he carried my buddy like a war trophy.

 

I gave Sleeper a look that said ‘see what you’ve done?’ And followed.

 

Once behind the closed storage room door, Zeus set Sleeper down on the same crates where I’d finger-blasted Wanker the week before.  Before he could attack Sleeper again, I stopped him.

 

“Okay, bro, let’s slow down here.  Neither one of us has been with many dudes, and I’m guessing you haven’t either, right?” I asked him.

 

“Just Wanker, Assmunch.  Last week like you told me.”  He answered.

 

I put my hands on my hips.  “Okay, let’s start slow then.  We don’t know a lot about the gay thing, but we’ll try to walk you through how sex usually goes.  What do you like about Sleeper?”

 

Zeus smiled.  This time it wasn’t a puppy smile, he looked like the impressive alpha dog that he was.  “He’s almost as tall as me, big muscles like me.  I like how he gets a five o’clock shadow that’s dark, like a man.  I love his dark eyes, and his really white skin.  I love the way his veins show on top of his muscles.  He has a beautiful behind.  I like how he’s nice to everyone even though he could be mean if he wanted, and some guys deserve it.  Sleeper is good.  I like him with hair better though.”

 

“Amen, brother.” Sleeper mumbled.

 

“So you think Sleeper is your type?  You like other guys that look like him?”

 

Zeus shrugged.  “Not always.  There was a guy in my school that was small and no muscles, but he was really smart and was always nice to me and every one else even though he got picked on a lot.  He was good too.”

 

“Did you ever tell him you liked him?” I asked, just to satisfy my own curiosity.

 

Zeus shook his head.  “I was scared he wouldn’t like me if he knew.”

 

I took a moment to think.  They both waited, knowing I was figuring things out and trusted me to know the right way through this.

 

Carol and Kevin had both told me I had a way of bringing out in them who they truly were, made them feel seen, safe, and perfect just the way they wanted to be.  Carol called it my gift.  I knew I had to somehow do that for Zeus.  Trouble was, I didn’t know if he was truly Alpha Dog Zeus, the God we worshipped, puppy dog pajamas Zeus who was exuberant and innocent, some mix of the two, or something even greater.  I suspected it was the latter, something greater.  That’s what my intuition told me.  Zeus had greatness written all over him.  Maybe his innocence was just a leftover from his obvious protected childhood, the dude didn’t even cuss.  Zeus had spent his life growing up fearing who he was, hiding it behind a tough, capable exterior of effortless peak masculinity.  But that meant locking away a vital part of who he was.  He wasn’t whole.

 

“Zeus, you know just because you’re gay it doesn’t mean you aren’t a good person, right?”

 

The giant didn’t respond.  His eyes had left Sleeper’s body, and now looked down at his feet.

 

“You can be gay and good, brother.  Who you want to love, or have sex with doesn’t have anything to do with what kind of guy you are.”

 

“I’m not supposed to be gay.” His voice was so small, so pitiful, it didn’t even sound like him.

 

Sleeper ducked his head to look under at Zeus’s face.

 

He hopped off the crates and pulled Zeus into a deep hug.  “Bro, you don’t have to cry.  It’s okay, man.  Being gay is cool, lots of people are gay.  It’s just like everybody else, some are good, some are bad.  But being gay has nothing to do with it.  They’re just people.”  Sleeper was a deeply good guy, and while I already had the most incredible respect for him, his treatment and acceptance of Zeus in this vulnerable moment showed me another beautiful piece of him I hadn’t seen before.  He could have maintained his usual tough guy, in control, men don’t get emotional behavior, but letting that go to give comfort to a brother in need was no effort at all for him either.  He was just as comfortable showing tenderness and emotion when necessary.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised by that, because he never showed that part of himself to me.  Maybe because he figured I didn’t need him to.  Or because I never let him.

 

“And fuck that ‘not supposed to be gay’ bullshit.  You’re amazing, we all think so, and I think you being gay is a big part of why you’re so amazing.”  I threw in.

 

Zeus was resting his cheek on Sleepers head while he held him.  “You really think so?”

 

“Yep, my best friend in high school was gay.  He was the best person I’ve ever met.  He might have been even more awesome than you.  You’d like him.  He’s a good person too, just like you.”  I said.  I didn’t know that was going to come out of my mouth.

 

“Did you have sex with him like you do Sleeper?”

 

Fuck Zeus!  There’s that no filter mouth again.  God, I have never felt like I needed to just die as much as when Zeus opened his mouth.  I saw Sleeper lift an eyebrow and smirk.  Just like Kevin.  And that’s probably why I did what I’d told myself wasn’t ever going to do.

 

I decided to lay it out there, fully honest.  Sleeper deserved to know, and Zeus needed to hear it.  “Yeah, we had lots of sex.  LOTS of sex, which was awesome and beautiful, and more than I ever expected or knew could be possible.  We were already really close, it just made it better.  I didn’t intend to have sex with Kevin, but once it happened I knew it was right.”

 

Zeus raised his head up.  “But you had a girlfriend.  I heard you tell Sleeper.”

 

“So that’s why you eat my ass like it’s going through a fucking car wash.” Sleeper said.

 

“Yeah, my girlfriend joined in, which made it even more fun.  And for your information, buddy, it was Carol eating MY ass that taught me everything I know.”

 

“Wow!” Zeus said, wide eyed.

 

“Do you think I’m a good person Zeus?”  I asked.

 

He reached out with his huge arm and pulled me into a hug with the two of them.  “You are a REALLY good guy, Andrew.”

 

I hugged back.  I was by no means a small guy, but smashed into these two slabs of all American beef, I felt wimpy and scrawny.  And both of them put out the heat of a bonfire.  “And I’ve had lots of gay sex.  And a lot of straight sex with Carol and Kevin.  A lot of sex, period.  And I liked it.  Who you love isn’t always up to you Zeus, and it certainly isn’t up to anyone else.  Neither is who you’re attracted to.  Your heart always tells you what you need.  Be gay.  Love who you are.  The good people will always want you to be who you need to be.  You should let yourself be who you need to be, too.  Don’t wait for people to be good to you, buddy.  You need to be good to yourself, first.”

 

“I love you guys.  Thank you.” Zeus said.

 

“I love you brother.” Sleeper said.

 

“I love you, my brothers.” I followed.  I felt a weight leave me then.  Helping Zeus freed me somehow.  Maybe not all the way, but enough to tell me that maybe shoving Tom and Kevin in a buried box wasn’t the right way to get through my pain and hurt.

 

“I think we should have sex now.”  Zeus’s deep voice caused my body to vibrate, pressed up against him in that hug.  And there was enough command tone in his rumbling words that my dick immediately plumped up like a grilled sausage, complete with leaking juices.  Fuck.  I was in serious trouble if Zeus brought Tom out to play.

 

‘Man, Zeus.’ I thought to myself.  ‘We have to get you a filter!’  But then I told myself to fuck off with that bullshit.  That was Zeus.  He spoke his mind.  I decided to take a page out of Carol’s book.

 

“Sleeper, drop that rag you call underwear, and hop back up.  We need to take this beautiful man to school and show him how to please a real man.” I instructed.

 

Sleeper frowned, but like he’d practiced the move a thousand times, he wiggled his hips and dropped his panties like a good slut, not even using his hands.  “Hey, they’re my favorite pair, they fit just right.”  As I suspected, they collapsed off of his perfect anatomy with little more than a wish.

 

Sleeper got into position and leaned back on his hands, just pleased as punch he was going to get worked over by two guys.  His meaty thick legs were spread and hung relaxed, flaring out even more by being pressed against the crate.

 

“Now, pleasing a man, or a woman for that matter, is all about showing how much you appreciate their body.  Sleeper here loves attention, but he’s not any different than anyone else.  Go ahead and feel those muscles you love on him.” I directed Zeus.  “And don’t rush it.  Taking your time and enjoying your favorite parts purely because you love the feel of him is a turn on.”

 

The gentle gorilla slowly ran his hands up Sleeper’s pale thighs, kneading and rubbing the defined hunks of muscle.  The high school wrestling champ flexed and hardened his quads with every firm massage of Zeus’s oversized paws.  He watched Zeus’s mesmerized face with a grin.  I saw Sleeper’s cock begin inflation, his hanging nuts rolling around in his loose shaved sack like reptile eggs about to spit out baby sea turtles.

 

“Don’t touch his dick.  Leave it for later.  That’s what a man wants the most, for you to take care of his dick.  Some guys don’t care about their dicks at all, they want you to get in their ass.  Either way, the longer you can hold off touching his cock or his asshole, the better it will feel for him when you finally do.  Making him wait until you’ve had your fun everywhere else will drive him crazy.  Figure out what it is he wants from you, then tease him with taking your time getting around to it.”  I lectured.

 

Zeus ran his mitts up to Sleeper’s tight waist, over his solid abdomen.  Sleeper had his head thrown back, enjoying the erotic massage.  His toes were curled, I noticed, then spread out straight, then curled again, like he was trying to make a fist with his foot.

 

“Rub the pubic area right above his dick.  Curl your hand around his crotch without grabbing the shaft.  See how his body is telling you how much he’s loving this?”

 

Zeus breathed out.  “He’s so warm.”  I watched as Sleeper’s legs spread even more as our battle buddy dug into his groin.  My dude was almost fully hard at this point, his engorged baby maker thicker at the base, and curved slightly towards the left.

 

I moved to stand next to Zeus.  I took his other hand, and guided it up Sleeper’s hard torso, stopping briefly to let him grope those heavy pecs.  Then I moved his hand to Addison’s armpit, and he pulled his arm up to his head, flexing unconsciously.

 

“There’s no hair.” Zeus said in wonder.  “He’s so smooth.” Letting his fingers caress the dips and valleys of Sleepers sweat machine.

 

“Reach down and pull on his nuts.  Play with them.  Roll them around in your hand.  Gentle at first, then gradually stretch them out.”

 

Sleeper moaned.  “Oh, fuck yeah.  Yank on those jizz tankers, bro.”  He pulled his legs up to rest his heels on the edge of the crate.

 

“You see that?  He’s spreading himself for you.”  I kept my voice soft, sultry.  “When a guy does that, he’s giving you permission to go further.  He wants you to feel everything he’s got down there.  He’s exposing his most vulnerable place, putting his trust in you to make him feel good.  That’s the sign he needs you to visit his ass.  Go ahead and run your hand under his balls.  Be firm, put your entire hand and palm on that lump between his asshole and his nuts.  That feels really good to a guy.  That meat right there sends signals to both his dick and his asshole, and he can’t decide which one of those he wants you to have more.  Slowly stroke him up and down, gradually moving a finger or two towards his hole.  If you do this right, he’ll be putty in your hands.”

 

Which Sleeper proved by leaning back even more and allowing his knees to fall to either side.  “Oh man, your hand feels so good.  Keep doing that.”

 

“Pull him back up, don’t let him lean back.  Keep going with that hand.  Look him in his beautiful eyes and ask him if he likes it.  Make him tell you how it feels.  Make him say it out loud.  He needs to hear himself surrender to you.  It doesn’t matter if he looks uncomfortable.  The more he’s willing to bear, the more he’s telling you he’s accepted you can do anything you want to him.”

 

Zeus grabbed Sleeper by the back of the neck and pulled him forward until his handsome pleasure filled face was just inches away.  “Do you like that, sexy man?  Do you like my hand between your legs?” Zeus improvised.

 

Sleeper nodded.  “I love it, your hand is so big.  And your finger is making my hole twitch.” He was pushing down with his hips, trying to get Zeus to use more force.

 

I raised myself up to whisper in Zeus’s ear, I didn’t want Sleeper to hear this part.  “Try to force a finger inside him, and kiss him at the same time.”

 

Zeus wasted no time.  I heard my buddy give a loud grunt just before Zeus forced his mouth onto Sleeper’s, shoving his tongue inside him.  I let this massive beast enjoy himself on my best friend fully for a minute, as he raped the helpless wrestler from both ends happily.  Then he came up for air.

 

“Jesus!  No spit, or lube or anything!  Guuuunnnnnhhhh!”  Sleeper groaned.  Looks like Sleeper wasn’t all that worried about kissing anymore.

 

“Ignore him.  If he didn’t want it, he’d have found a way to pull off.” I observed dryly.

 

“You’re such a fucker, Assmunch.”  I noticed his hips hadn’t stopped writhing, in spite of his complaints.

 

“That’s right, buddy.  And you’re about to find out how much of a fucker I really am.  Move aside, Zeus.  My turn.”

 

When Sleeper’s legs were clear, I folded him up to present the little pretty hole I now owned for my enjoyment.  Pinning his knees back alongside his chest, I dove right into his pucker with my tongue.

 

“FFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKK, yeah eat it.  Damn I love it when you do that.”  Sleeper moaned for me.  “Taste that meat, fuck yeah.  Oh shit, chew on it just like that!  Harder!” I felt his hands grab my newly shaved head, pulling me into his crevice, wiggling his hips.

 

I guess he thought the rules didn’t apply since Zeus was here.  I smacked his asscheek with about half the force I was capable of, knowing it was still going to hurt like hell.  Sleeper yelped.

 

“Sorry!  Sorry bro, I couldn’t help it!”  I had my hand cocked for another smack.  He sounded sincere.  He whined.  Addison fucking Montelongo, State Wrestling Champ, Soldier extraordinaire, Army Ranger School wannabe, son of some distant Spanish Ancestral nobility, whined because he wasn’t pleasing me.  Yeah, Carol taught me a LOT.  And I knew from personal experience being in that position could make you cum like you saw Jesus.  Which was my goal for him every time we had our fun.  I didn’t believe in boring sex.  Not anymore.

 

I looked up at him.  “Don’t let it happen again.” I growled.   You had to let them know they weren’t the ones in control.  That they got what you gave them, and no more.  Or more than what they deserved, because you wanted to do it, no other reason.  Give just an inch and the dynamic changed, things got sloppy, the terms of the transaction became unsatisfactory.

 

Which meant poor Sleeper wasn’t going to get his shitter car-washed like he wanted.  I stood up, my shorts already down, and pushed my fuck stick up against his spit glistened hole.

 

“Wait, bro…” he pleaded.  I kept pushing, a steady pressure.  His poor little turd cutter was going to give out eventually.  In the war between tender butthole and my steel hard 8 inch dripping cock, my cock was going to win.

 

“What?” I said, putting enough boredom into my voice to get the message across that this was happening.  I applied more pressure.  His legs were still pulled back and open.  He wasn’t trying to end this.  All the subtle signs were there that he wanted exactly what I was going to give him.  See, Sleeper didn’t actually WANT his ass fucked.  What he wanted more than anything was to just take a break from being the golden boy, the one everyone looked up to and feared, the parental expectation to be the very best at everything.  The weight on his shoulders was heavy.  He couldn’t relax his guard out there, but once I showed him all that pressure went away when he gave up all that control to me, it became an addiction.  If his hole getting fucked was part of the deal, he’d give up his ass willingly.  He didn’t have to be the tough guy wrestling champ, in fact I demanded he wasn’t.  If that took a little punishment to put him back in his place every now and then… well sometimes I think he broke the rules on purpose.  And the next time I wasn’t holding back.  I owed it to him to give him my best.

 

He still hadn’t answered.  “So, no ‘wait’, bro?” I taunted him.  I looked him right in the eye while I let a thick ribbon of spit fall right on his cock knuckled sphincter.  I shoved more.  He still wasn’t unclenching.

 

“Ohhhhhhhh, God…. Please don’t bust my shitter, bro.  Please….”

 

“Then you better relax.  You will lose this fight and it will tear you up.  All you have to do is surrender, buddy.  You just have to let go.  I’m actually being nice about it.  I could just rip right into you like last time.  But I’m giving you the chance to do this yourself.”

 

This was the moment.  The moment he had to accept that his complete surrender was what he wanted.  That it didn’t matter that it came at the expense of what he thought was his manhood.  He’d learn that he was no less a man for having a dick up his ass.  That it might actually increase his sense of being a man.  That it didn’t mean he wasn’t straight anymore.  And who knows, he may have loved the feeling of being violated like a cheap whore and treated like a cumrag TWICE last weekend.  I had no way of pinpointing that as anything but a possibility.  After all, this was just the second time my dick would be in his ass.  And this time was different, I wasn’t forcing myself into him at a weak moment.  No, this time it had to be him doing it to himself fully aware.   

 

And he let his breath go.  As soon as he did, my head began entering his ring.  “AAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhh, it hurts!  Don’t push!  Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiittttttttt!”  I wasn’t.  This was all him.  He took a few rapid breaths.  I let more spit trail from my lips to his hole.  After a half minute, I sunk in a couple inches.  He stopped me again.  Then he reached down to grab his ass cheeks, those beautiful haunches, and pulled them apart to open himself up more for me.  I sunk my pole all the way in, balls deep.

 

The deep moan he gave was half pain, half relief at his own need.

 

“So deep.  It’s so big.” He groaned.

 

The heat of his tunnel cooked my meat perfectly, and I could feel the fluids seeping from my piss slit.  His muscles spasmed continuously, and it felt like he was jacking off my thick cock with his incredibly tight hole.  I rocked side to side, still buried to the root, knowing my hardness was punching his rectal walls.  Man, he felt amazing.

 

I took a slow half thrust.  Sleeper’s leaking cock bounced.  “Hey Zeus, you want to suck his dick?” I asked.

 

Zeus darted over.  I could see a large wet spot on the front of his Army sweats.  Sleeper’s hard cock was almost as long as mine, just shaped different.  The big man bent down and tried to take my buddy’s dick in one swallow.  Instead, Zeus gagged halfway down.

 

“Cover your teeth with your lips, buddy.  And open your throat.  Then use your tongue when he’s in your mouth.”  I kept up a slow, steady rhythm of fucking, using only half my dick, and not bottoming out completely.  I changed the angle of my stroke, to get that upward direction that would push up into his prostate.

 

“Oh shit!  What are you doing?  It’s going straight to my dick.”  Sleeper announced.  He removed one hand to put it on Zeus’s head, forcing him down further onto his cock.

 

Zeus was a champ, opening up to let more of that juice root invade his face.  I allowed this much, enjoying how my straight buddy was getting lost in the pleasure he was feeling.  I knew that the time had come to rail him without mercy.

 

I began pistoning into his shitcave, my nuts bounced off the bottom of his ass.  I was getting close, but I wanted Sleeper to fill our God’s throat with his grunt spunk.  I was going to fuck it out of him.  The slick walls of his dickchute gripped my shaft with every powerful thrust.  I sped up, hammering him.  He was bouncing so much Zeus didn’t have to move.  I was fucking Sleeper’s hard curved cock into his mouth.

 

“I’m gonna cum, bro.  I’m gonna lose it.” Sleeper panted.  “Oh fuck, don’t stop.”  I grabbed Zeus’s head to keep him from pulling off and bucked up into my buddy like he was a twenty dollar whore.  My own orgasm fired up my throbbing shaft and shot out into Sleeper’s guts.  I didn’t announce it or change my motion.

 

The sound of Sleeper’s grunting whine told me he was spewing his own creamy essence over Zeus’s tongue.  Zeus let out a unintelligible question around the veiny meat penetrating his lips.

 

“Swallow it, Zeus.  Sleeper made that for you as a gift.”  I told him, still holding his head in place.  “It’s a part of him he wants you to have inside you.  Show him how thankful you are.”

 

I kept up my thrusts, slower and gentle now as my balls expelled the last of my swimmers, the lazy ones, into my friend.   I pulled my dick out slowly.

 

“Your turn Zeus.  Show Sleeper how much you love him.”  I directed.

 

Sleeper looked at me with a worried face.

 

“Relax, buddy, this won’t change anything.  We’re doing this for Zeus.”  I assured him.

Zeus stood up and pulled his sweats down to free his leaking monster.  Like everything about him, his manmeat was larger than life.  It had to have been an inch or two longer than me, and just as thick.  He was uncircumcised, and even hard his foreskin drooped from the head like a monks cowl.

 

“Push his knees down to get him spread like you want him, butterfly his ass, fold him out like a book.  Don’t worry, he can take it.  You’re fucking a real man there, he’s used to a little pain.”  I urged him.

 

A wad of my nut had escaped the vault of Sleeper’s ruined hole, which was still pulsating from the fuck I’d given him.  My DNA sauce decorated his swollen opening like milk on a frosted flake.  I fought the urge to slurp it off his hole.  Zeus’s veiny snake would need every source of lubricant for the invasion.

 

My buddy lay there spent and surrendered, resolved to his role as a milking sleeve for our manly needs.  I could see the absolute capitulation in the relaxation of every muscle he carried.  He now realized the overwhelming ecstasy he’d experienced last week, and the previous times I’d masticated him to orgasm weren’t accidental.  His ass was the source of heightened pleasure.  He could no longer deny the soul wrenching force of ejaculating while a cock stretched him out from the inside.  I knew that feeling well.

 

Zeus pushed his butthole digging worm through Sleeper’s now adjusted outer ring.  They both let out a sensual moan.  My buddy’s ample cock started to power up once again.  He was in the right head space for Zeus to fuck another load out of him, if Zeus could hold on long enough to get him there.

 

“Jesus, why does it feel so good?” Sleeper asked.

 

Zeus began plunging in and out of him, lost in his own world of pleasure.  He ran his hands over Sleeper’s beautiful body.  He long-dicked the hole beneath him, taking full strokes to share every inch.  I noticed that Sleeper’s pucker would seal over Zeus’s foreskin on the pullout, keeping it from exiting and stretching it out.  Damn that was sexy as hell.

 

Zeus’s rhythm increased, until he was full on rutting that wrestler rump like a rabid animal.  He forced his tongue into Sleeper’s mouth, completely smothering my buddy’s lips.  Sleeper was grunting with every thrust back into Zeus’s mouth, and I could tell when the friction and pounding made him empty his balls.  Zeus didn’t stop, he probably didn’t even notice that he made Sleeper cum.  He was grunting now himself, stabbing his sizeable prick deep into Sleeper’s fuck chute with every hard thrust while Sleeper took the violent pounding without complaint.  The notes of Zeus’s grunting ascended, getting higher, and I could tell he was ready to blow his wad.

 

With a final shuddering explosion, his entire giant body seized as he delivered the creamy payload deep inside Sleeper’s secret private bunker.

 

“FUDGE!” Zeus exhaled into Sleeper’s mouth.  He quickly followed with another grunt as more streams of dick juice spurted out into his crush.  And again.  Each time accompanied by another violent plunge.  “I can’t stop, it’s not stopping!” He groaned, continuing to fire volley after volley from his meat cannon.  I can’t imagine how much seed was pouring into my buddy’s wrecked hole.  Then he slowed, taking a few lazy strokes.  And then he whined like a helo spinning up it’s rotors and plunged in again.  “Oh fudge, oh shoot! It’s happening again!”  More animal grunts into Sleeper’s waiting mouth as one more time he was taken by the aggressive pumping of his seed spitter.

 

It was probably the greatest male orgasm I’d ever had the privilege to witness.  For power, for length, for passion, for uncontrolled physical release, for the sheer expression of masculine togetherness that was Sleeper passively accepting everything Zeus had to give, and Zeus pouring everything he had into the man he loved.  It was fucking beautiful.

 

[Assmunch]

Sleeper’s perfect dumper.  
 

Up next: Sgt. Horvath and Sgt. Walters get some R&R

[Assmunch]

HORVATH AND WALTERS

***********************************

 

Saturday night in a chilly German November meant three things: No junior grunts to herd; a buttery, smoky, woodsy bourbon, warmed and neat, of course; and the sweet taste of a fat Arturo Fuente Especiales cigar.

 

Sergeants Horvath and Walters sat enjoying the draw of smoke on the patio of their rented off post quarters.

 

“So what do you think of this batch?  I sure as hell didn’t see last night coming.  That Brickmann—“. Walters started.

 

Horvath interrupted his buddy.  “Hey!  No work.  Let’s just relax.  I leave that shit on post.”

 

“Fair enough.” Walters acquiesced.

 

They enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, sipping the smooth bourbon.  The Kentucky liquor made sitting out in the chilly evening pleasant, both of them lounging in sweats and a tee shirt.  Horvath’s ubiquitous body hair tufted out the collar and the stretched sleeves of his tee shirt.  Then Horvath spoke.  “I could go for some local takeout.”

 

Walters nodded.  “What flavor?”

 

“That kid, Jürgen.  He loves my großer Schwanz, and takes it like a pro.  It really sucks that most women take one look at it and refuse to do anything more than jerk me off.”  The fur covered Hungarian mused.

 

Walters chuckled.  “I think you’ve got a soft spot for that kid.”

 

Horvath answered with a snort and a puff of his cigar.  The resulting cloud lingered for a while in the still night air.  “He’s got a soft spot for me to put my dick.  That’s as far as it goes.”

 

Walters shrugged, not believing a word of that.  The way he treated Jürgen with kindness and attention said loud and clear more was there than a straightforward fuck.  “Give him a call, then.  Inge got herself a boyfriend, so I’m going to need some too.”

 

“Brother, you’re an idiot.”  Horvath said, pointing the ash hanging on the end of the tobacco leaf wrapped cylinder at his friend.  “She likes you.  Why don’t you snatch that fräulein up?  You’d have beautiful blonde green eyed babies with her.”

 

Walters had thought about it, many times.  But he was still young, hadn’t made Sergeant First Class yet, even though it would be soon, he felt.  The recent Gulf War, which hadn’t really been a war because the Iraqis hardly put up a fight, meant the rank would remain full until some of those decided not to re-enlist and the Army allowed them to cycle out.  Certain skill sets had to be retained in mobilization to ensure mission success and continuity.  It was just bad timing in his career.  At any other time, he and Horvath would have made rank already at 27 years old.  There was no retirement at the low rank just above Staff Sergeant, so openings weren’t going to happen that way.  He had all his points and time, his last test couldn’t have gone better and he was on the list, and of course the fitness portion was a joke for him even if the idiotic charts said his height/weight proportion put him in the ‘overweight’ column.  But that was the Army, they had one measuring stick.  He and Horvath just had to wait to put on their rank.  He had nothing to offer Inge right now except the loneliness of a military wife and eventually taking her away from her home and family.  She would have nothing in common with the other NCO wives, and being low man on the NCO totem pole didn’t get him invited to a lot of get togethers by the senior NCOs, not to mention the wives could be petty and mean, dependent upon their husbands place in the hierarchy even more than the soldiers themselves.  Rank and position was a political barrier in full effect in the military, and paying your dues, putting on insignia and stripes, filling your ribbon rack was how it worked.  Receiving recognition got your foot in the door.  Until then, you were just another uniform in the chain.

 

“Just bad timing, brother.  You know we probably only have a year more here.  If they extend us, I might make it serious with Inge.”

 

Horvath looked at his friend.  “You’re going to regret it, but it’s your life.”  And he got up to use the phone inside, placing his half smoked cigar in the ashtray.

 

He dialed Jürgen’s number, a woman answered, probably his mother.  “Guten abend.  Können Ich mit Jürgen zusprechen, bitte?”  Horvath requested politely.

 

“Ja, natürlich .”  He heard her call to Jürgen in the background.

 

“Hallo?” The boyish voice answered.

 

“Hallo, Junge.” Horvath said, knowing Jürgen would know immediately who it was from his voice and being called ‘boy’.  “Was machst du jetzt?”

 

“Ich studiere für meine Universitätsprüfung, mein Herr.”  Jürgen attended the University in the city a short train ride from the town next to the Army base.

 

“Ich brauche dich.” Horvath ordered him with a growl.

 

There was no hesitation.  “Ja, mein Herr.  Ich komme sofort!”  The kid hung up.  It wouldn’t take him 15 minutes to arrive.

 

While they waited, they sucked down the short remainder of their cigars and bourbon, passing the time in silence.  Silence with a good friend was rewarding.  Horvath couldn’t stand people who had to fill the emptiness with meaningless chatter.  Walters felt the same way.

 

They soon heard the patio door open.  The tall but thin blonde German eighteen year old stood naked in the doorway.  He knew the drill, letting himself in and undressing fully right away, one of the things Horvath liked about the kid - he followed orders.  Jürgen’s lightly furred legs were longer than his torso, sleek but proportional to his narrow hips.  Above his crotch he was hairless except for his armpits, but his light blonde hair almost disappeared against his skin.  The kid had a beautiful face, with a straight nose and prominent squared off clefted chin, between the two features sat a set of pouty pink lips that the hairy Sergeant loved seeing wrapped around his fat pork tenderloin.  He had wide set sky blue eyes with long blonde lashes, straight wispy eyebrows, and a smooth, wide forehead.  His curly blonde hair was just the right length for Horvath to get his furry paws into and grab hold of.  The kid was going to break a lot of hearts.  Especially with the thick uncut knackwurst and heavy balls hanging soft between his legs.

 

“Good evening, Sirs.” The kid’s mild voice said in a slight German accent.  He’d been practicing.  It was one of the only situations in which Horvath or Walters would accept being called ‘Sir’.  Civilians didn’t know any better, and it didn’t do any good to explain to them that Sir for an NCO bordered on being an insult.  Rank was earned through hard work, sweat, and pain.  Address left no room for assuming more than deserved.

 

“Komm hier, Junge.”  Horvath instructed.  Jürgen immediately approached.  There was no shame about nudity in the German culture, and it didn’t matter to the kid that the neighbors could see him baring all on the patio of their flat.  It also wouldn’t raise any eyebrows that he was naked in the presence of two older men.  It wouldn’t matter even if they all were undressed.

 

“Mein Herr, kann Ich eine Anfrage stellen?” The timid youth asked.

 

“Frage.”  Horvath replied.

 

“May Sir speak English with the boy?”  Jürgen was looking down rather than making eye contact.

 

Horvath chuckled.  “Will Sir speak English with his boy.” He corrected.

 

“Will Sir speak English with his boy?  I must practice my English.   And the American accent of Sir…Sirs.. is… geile macht?”

 

“You think my American accent is hot?  Sexy?  Turns you on?”

 

Jürgen looked up and gave a wide, bright smile that lit up his entire boyishly handsome face.  “Ja!  Eh, yes, Sir!  Is very much sexy.  Your speaking of Deutsch is very good, there is little accent in the words.  My English is not good so I must learn better speaking, Sir.”  His eyes darted to the ashtray and the glasses.  “Would Sirs wish more?” He indicated the table.

 

Horvath lifted and eyebrow towards Walters.  His friend nodded.

 

“Yes boy.  And warm the bourbon.  You may have some if you want.”

 

“Thank you, Sir, but it is not for a boy.  American whiskey is only for a man…the men?    Bier… bee-err” he practiced, trying to give the right inflection and pronunciation, “that is for boys.”

 

Horvath grinned.  The kid was adorable.  “There’s Heffeweissen in the fridge… refrigerator.  Help yourself.”

 

“Thank you, Sir.”  The lanky blonde started to turn away, then stopped.  “Help myself?  What is the meaning , Sir? It is not helping to drink bee-err.  It is just drinking bee-err.”

 

“What does that mean?”  Horvath corrected.  “It means you have permission to serve yourself, or do whatever you need to in order to accomplish the goal.  In this case, going into the refrigerator and getting yourself a beer so that you can drink it.”

 

Jürgen smiled happily again.  “I will help myself, Sir.  But I will first help my Sirs.”

 

Horvath and Walters eyed the statuesque youth’s pert fuzzy ass as he strode through the patio door.  Jürgen walked proudly upright, shoulders back, in a smooth efficient stride that spoke of being comfortable with his body, athleticism and youthful strength.  In just a couple years, he would be a man to be reckoned with.  He returned quickly with two cigars.  He took the cutter from the table and snipped just above the shoulder of the first cigar while standing next to the Sergeant.  Horvath watched him, placing a hand on Jürgen’s nicely rounded ass.  The kid had learned well.  He let Horvath inspect the cut.  Horvath nodded.  Then Jürgen put the tobacco tube in his mouth and lit the end, taking quick shallow puffs until a visible ash appeared.  He extended the perfectly lit cigar, burning end out, to the burly Sergeant.

 

“Good job, boy.”

 

Jürgen smiled proudly at the praise, and his flaccid cock swelled a bit.  He did the same for Walters, moving to stand touching Walters’ shoulder with his naked hip, leaning into him with a bit of weight which was actually negligible to the well built Army man.  Herr Walters liked it when he was forward and playful.  After handing the other Army soldier the lit cigar, he went back inside to prepare the Woodford Reserve bourbon, which didn’t take long.  He knew to heat the glass, then pour the bourbon in, which allowed the whiskey to warm gradually, releasing the deep flavors without evaporating the alcohol.  He had learned so much from the two American military, not just about satisfying their needs.  Although he should not be arrogant, he did feel like he was far more experienced than his friends, who were still playing children’s games, while he learned how to be a real man from Herr Horvath and Herr Walters.  He already carried himself with far more confidence and masculine demeanor than his contemporaries.  His parents had noticed the improvement, and encouraged his interaction with the Americans.  They weren’t completely ignorant of what may be going on, but as long as the influence was positive, a young man needed to use this time to experience what the world held.  One of those things was expected to be sexual exploration and experimentation.  After University, Jürgen could get serious and decide which direction his life would take.

 

He took the two warmed glasses to the Americans, along with two flat ceramic stones he’d also warmed which would continue to radiate the heat necessary to bring out the best in the whiskey.  The Americans didn’t pour their whiskey down their throats like Americans in the movies.  They taught him that good whiskey, or any good liquor for that matter, should be savored slowly.  Getting drunk and losing control was juvenile, and real men kept their wits about them at all times.  Real men sought out and enjoyed those things and behaviors that improved their lives, and avoided those that damaged them.  It was called treating yourself with respect.  You didn’t deserve respect from others if you didn’t first give respect to yourself.

 

Real men also stated plainly what they wanted, and right now Jürgen wanted to play with Herr Horvath’s beautiful beast sized schwanz.

 

“May I suck you, Sir?” He asked.

 

Horvath leaned back, cigar in one hand, bourbon in the other and spread his legs as an answer.

 

The young blonde wasted no time taking a drink of his beer, setting it on the table, then kneeling in front of his extra large target.  From behind him he felt a hand on his shoulder.  “Here Jürgen, kneel on this.” Herr Walters held out his folded tee shirt.

 

The 18 year old may wish to serve them, but this was not a relationship of abuse and punishment.  It was not ownership.  It was mutually beneficial interaction, sharing pleasure, accepting responsibility for the care and treatment of someone who looked up to them, who wanted to learn from them, who trusted them not to hurt him.  Inflicting deliberate pain served no purpose with a young man who thrived on praise and kindness.  Their goal was to instill confidence and self authority, not dismantle his ability to function independently.  Jürgen was not willful or foolish, he was very intelligent and respectfully polite.  Germans, for the most part, did not teach their children to be entitled brats like so many American parents.  Character mattered.  Pride in who you were came from how you behaved.  Although similar to how they trained soldiers at work, Jürgen did not need to be broken into subservience so that orders would be followed without question.

 

Jürgen placed the shirt under his knees, then reached up to pull down the front of Herr Horvath’s sweat pants.  He could feel the heat coming off the American’s legs, and although he wasn’t cold being a native that grew up here, the warmth felt good, even more because of who was generating it.  Jürgen felt safe and cocooned between those large legs.  He wished Herr Horvath was naked.  His thick natural fur was beautiful.  As evidenced by the lush bush that covered several centimeters of that long, thick penis.  Tucking the sweatpants below the American’s hairy balls, he leaned in to nuzzle the slowly filling tube of flesh with his handsome face.

 

Horvath set his bourbon on the still warm ceramic stone, tilted his head back and placed his cigar between his teeth, drawing a heavy pull from the burning tobacco, holding the smoke for a moment in his mouth before releasing a cloud into the air.  He rested his hands in Jürgen’s soft blonde curls, just about encompassing his entire head with his man paws.  He let the eager young man nudge and rub his cock.  Jürgen’s cold hands moved up onto Horvath’s stomach, under his shirt to play with his furry pelt.

 

“Just what I needed.”  Horvath uttered from the side of his mouth that wasn’t gripping the cigar.  He lightly massaged Jürgen’s head, playing with the loose rings of his straw colored hair.

 

They’d taught him to take his time, savor it, enjoy it like everything else worth doing.  And right now he was smelling and licking and sucking the Sergeant’s furry nuts.  He was content simply being in physical contact with this fine specimen of masculinity.  He made sure Herr Horvath’s furry eggs were soaked with saliva before he moved up to lick the massive shaft of his now erect and heavy cock.  It was quite large, the biggest one he’d seen so far in his young life.  Fully as thick around as his wrist, and almost as long as his forearm, the sheer size of it had frightened him at first.  But Herr Walters had patiently taught him how to handle a man of that quality, showing him how to ease it into his throat, to ignore the urge to gag and choke which would only make it worse.  It seemed like it would never fit, but the gentle words of Herr Walters after his demonstration assured him it was possible and only a matter of willpower.   He licked his way up to the hooded head, sucking on the leaking foreskin, tasting the delicious flavor of his Sir’s precum.  Then, grasping the base, he let his tongue play inside the loose skin, rolling it around the sensitive glans and extracting every drop of the salty fluid that had collected there.

 

Herren Horvath and Walters were talking casually about plans for tomorrow, smoking their cigars, sipping their American whiskey, while he enjoyed himself between the man’s legs.  Every so often, Herr Horvath would stroke his face gently, or play with his hair, sometimes holding the cigar between the fingers of that hand while he did so.  The attention made him feel warm inside, loved, accepted.  The acrid smoke of the burning leaf so close to his face only enhanced the feelings, because it now was associated with masculine, mature, strong men.  He longed to taste the tobacco on Herr Horvath’s tongue, but Sir did not kiss.  Herr Walters would kiss Jürgen, though.  He’d learned how to become a very good kisser from Herr Walters.

 

He pulled the foreskin back gently, exposing the light brown head, which was still pumping out drips of penile lubricant.  He cupped his lips and surrounded the tip, forcing his tongue into the piss slit to lick out more.  Herr Horvath had a very large hole for spritzen.  Jürgen could almost get the entire tip of his tongue inside it.  He noticed Herr Horvath would spurt heavier when he did that, giving him more of his manly juice.  That also gave him a warm, content feeling inside, knowing that meant he was making Herr Horvath very happy.

 

After playing all he wanted with the head, he finally opened wide to take him inside his young mouth.  He did it like Herr Walters had showed him, just a couple centimeters at a time, moving like a snake swallowing its dinner.  Open ahhhh, tongue, lips, saliva, open ahhhh, move down, tongue, lips, saliva, and continue until he was smelling Sir’s thick, soft bush.  Jürgen loved feeling the hair brush his cheeks, nose, and eyes when he had Herr Horvath fully engulfed, that’s how deep and lush his pubic hair was.  It was good that Herr Horvath’s size meant he didn’t get completely rigid and stiff, instead his Schwanz was solid but flexible, which allowed the young man to take it all.  He waited there, breathing through his hose and patient, while his throat formed the slimy mucus that would make repeated movements so much easier.  It would produce far more than enough.  Herr Horvath always used the drooled excess.  It was perfect for preparing his tight ass for fucking.

 

He felt the first wave ascend, and he let it escape his lips with a gurgle.  “Huuuurrk!”

 

Herr Horvath never stopped what he was saying to Herr Walters while he casually reached down to take the throat slime from his pubic hair, scooping it in his fingers with one hand and reaching for Jürgen’s ass to rub it on his twitching hole, inserting a meaty finger to try to force it inside him.  He pushed him further down onto his cock, even though he was already at the base, with his other hand, so he could bend over easily and reach.  Jürgen never felt happier than in this moment, smothered on all sides by pieces of Horvath’s furnace heat emitting body, Jürgen’s young chest and head between his legs, face planted to the balls in his crotch, his beautiful schwanz buried all the way down his throat, Herr Horvath’s heavy torso pressing into him from above.  He could fall asleep like this, it made him feel so content and safe.  “Mmmmmmm” he moaned.  His jaw was stretched so wide, but he didn’t care.

 

Herr Horvath sat back again, releasing the kid’s head.  Jürgen began slowly pulling off about 14 centimeters, half of the length he had swallowed, to give his throat a rest, breathe a little and begin sliding that monster in and out of his mouth.  He sucked for a few strokes at this depth before taking Herr Horvath deep again.  “Huuurrrk” again.  More throat slime.  Herr Horvath repeated his earlier motions, again forcing his cock deeper into Jürgen’s willing throat.  After forcing more fluid into the young German’s ass with two fingers, he slapped his ass and leaned back again.  Jürgen began to slowly move up and down on Herr Horvath’s cock, humming a nursery rhyme while moving his mouth along the length.  He was on his third repetition of the rhyme when he felt Herr Horvath’s member begin to swell.  The young man didn’t break his steady, slow rhythm, maintaining the same pace, and he felt the first throb that signaled Herr Horvath was depositing his seed inside him.  He held himself still for a moment, tightening his jaw slightly, before descending fully on the American’s meat to take the next few spurts in his throat, then moved off until just the fat head was held in his lips to allow the last few volleys of cum to fill his mouth, stroking the long shaft to pull every drop out.  The thick semen tasted so good, and Jürgen imagined he was being infused with some of the magnificent soldier’s masculinity.  Herr Horvath hadn’t made a sound or indicated in any way he had shot his sweet manseed in Jürgen’s mouth and throat, not even a tensing of a single muscle or change in breathing.  The act of inseminating the youth occurred as naturally and easily as scratching an itch unconsciously.  As if that was Jürgen’s purpose.  Do you think about the glass you pour your milk in?  Do you pause to warn it that it’s going to be filled?  Does your body tense up as the runny white fluid splashes into the receptacle?  Of course not.  That’s where nourishing milk belongs, where it needs to go to be put to use.  The boy nursed the slightly softened pole for a half a minute before releasing it from his pouty red lips, which he licked, relishing the taste.  He tucked the turgid member back inside Herr Horvath’s sweat pants before moving over between Herr Walters’ legs.  The second American spread his legs for him, giving him access.  He took a moment to smile up at Herr Walters, who smiled back and tousled Jürgen’s hair.

 

“You’re such a good boy.”  Walters praised.  Then he nodded at his crotch, taking a draw from his cigar.  Jürgen pulled the front of the sweat pants down, just as he had done with Herr Horvath.  Walters’ dick was not as long or thick as Horvath’s, but it was still an example of peak, potent impressive size.  Herr Walters was circumcised, and leaking.  The biggest testicles Jürgen had ever seen hung loose below the hard shaft that rose straight up toward the sky, unlike Herr Horvath’s.  Herr Horvath’s cock was so long and heavy it simply leaned like a tree tipped over in a storm, it’s roots straining to maintain a grip on the soil. Having given a glance to the remaining unsmoked length of their cigars, and the last few sips of bourbon in their glasses, Jürgen knew time was limited before they were done out here, so he simply swallowed Walters’ hardness immediately, choosing to play with the American’s balls using his hands.

 

The taste of the man’s precum was intoxicating.  Jürgen moaned, loving how the solid tube of flesh left just enough room in his mouth for him to use his tongue, running it up and down and left and right over the tight skin of Herr Walters’ dick.  He couldn’t do that with Herr Horvath’s barely manageable size.  After having his throat stretched by Herr Horvath, this cock was easier to accommodate, so he happily slurped the entire length from base to head using gentle suction.  Herr Walters encouraged him with minute thrusts, his ass clenching and releasing as Jürgen moved up and down on his American gun.  Soon, Herr Walters placed a hand on his head, threading his fingers through the German youth’s curls.  He grabbed the hair, and directed the boy with assertive pulling and pushing.  The G.I. was working up to ejaculate, moving the blonde head between his legs faster, more intently.  Herr Walters placed his cigar between his teeth and brought his other hand to Jürgen’s head.  He sucked in a large draw of the tobacco smoke and just as he released his cum into the kid’s mouth he exhaled in his face.

 

“Oh, fuck yeah kid.  Drink all that juice.” He growled.  “Every. Uh! Last. Uh! Drop. Uh!  Uh!  Mmmmmm.”

 

Which Jürgen happily did, swallowing with every pumping squirt of the thick, delicious seed.  As he had done with Herr Horvath, he nursed on the gradually softening dick while the muscle bound soldier came down from his orgasm.

 

“Let’s move this inside.”  Herr Horvath announced, taking the last sip of his bourbon.  It probably wasn’t warm anymore.

 

When they reached the living room, Sergeant Walters moved up to pull Jürgen into his muscular arms.  The kid was taller than him by a couple inches.  Their bare chests pressed together as Walters moved his hands over the tight, young firmness of Jürgen’s thin, athletic body.  Horvath had moved up behind him to create a G.I. sandwich.  The taller hairy American behind him had removed his sweatpants and was humping his thick hardness against the young German’s taut butt.  The feel of Horvath’s warm fur against his back drove him to moan, as Walters gave him a deep, sensual kiss.  Walters reached down to grab Jürgen’s thighs, lifting him up to straddle his waist, exposing his tight pucker to Horvath’s cock.

 

Horvath applied more saliva to Jürgen’s hole, and even more to his ready pole, and slid his head over the newly spit lubed opening.  He felt the kid’s sphincter pulse and flex as he applied ever greater pressure.  The kid could take it.  It alway made him hiss at first penetration, but he wanted Horvath’s monster inside him so badly it never took long for him to adjust, and this time was no different.

 

“That’s it, boy.” Horvath growled.  “I’m going to put this American soldier cock all the way up inside you.”  And he made his words good by sliding raw slowly into Jürgen’s stretching asshole.  Jürgen moaned into Walters’ mouth.  He loved the G.I. sandwich, compressed between two real masculine men who enjoyed his body, one furry, one completely smooth, both with bulging muscles.  The minimal lubrication of saliva heightened the frictional effect, creating a mixture of pleasure and pain.  The act of being fucked in this standing position enhanced the erotic disparity between their strength and his, their size and his, their manly supremacy against his youth.  He locked his ankles behind Walters’ back.

 

Horvath began pistoning his slab of meat in and out of Jürgen’s tight willing hole, fully planting it to the balls and pulling out to the head.  The kid was bouncing himself against Walters to increase the action, wanting more.

 

“Ja!  Fich mich!  Ich liebe deinen großen Schwanz!  Tiefer!  Härter!

 

Horvath chuckled, increasing the power of his thrusts.  “Ja, Junge.  Aber Du musst Englisch verwenden.  Practice, remember?”

 

Jürgen’s elastic hole gripped Horvath’s Hungarian pole perfectly, doing its own work to stroke his gargantuan shaft.  The kid’s hole was amazing, like it was made to take his dick.  Depth, circumference, grip, wetness… all of it was a precise fit.

 

“It feel so good I can’t remember words.  Fuck my ass, please Sir!  I want to feel your sperm inside my ass.”

 

“You want my cum, boy?”  Horvath growled, really hammering the kid now, picking up steam that was driving him towards release.

 

“Yes, your cum.  That is what I want!”  Jürgen gasped.  He was holding onto Walters for his life, as he was crushed between the two men.  Herr Walters had leaned forward, as if holding a boxing bag against his training partner’s rapid, forceful punches.  The boy’s hard cock was smashed against Herr Walters’ solid abs, rubbing along the hard ridges with every one of Horvath’s plunges into his overfilled young hole.  He felt that he reached a precipice, and suddenly his cock began to shoot, pouring out his sperm onto Walters’ smooth skin.

 

“Here it comes boy.  I’m going to fill you up.  Your going to take my big load deep inside your sweet hole.”

 

And Herr Horvath started to grunt, burying his giant exceptional manhood to the hairy balls in the thin young, handsome German.

 

“Ja!  I am feeling it, Sir!  Oh, I love it!  It is so good for you to give me this into my ass.  It is so good feeling!”  Even as the last drops of cum were beaten out of his own dick crushed against Herr Walters.

 

“Take it all boy!” Horvath heaved again and again as he emptied his nuts with eight or ten long heavy squirts inside the willing and hungry chute gripping his cock so nicely.

 

Jürgen buried his head in Walters’ neck.  “Yes!  I take it for you.  I take all of it, for you.”

 

Horvath reached out and stroked Jürgen’s head as his strokes slowly came to a stop.  “Good boy.  You are a good boy.”  He felt he had gushed a massive load up the kid’s sweet cunt, and was unsurprised to see a large  amount follow his dick out through his stretched sphincter, splattering on the hardwood floor beneath them.  He reached under to force two meaty fingers knuckle deep in the youth’s warm dripping hole.

 

“Mmmmm.” Jürgen moaned.  He pulled his head away and looked at Walters.  “You will fuck me now, yes?”

 

“Yes, boy.  I will fuck you now.”  Walters said with a grin before kissing Jürgen passionately.

 

Horvath pulled Jürgen off Walters, holding him from behind and stepping back to sit on the couch.  Jürgen leaned back against the warm furry chest as Herr Horvath pulled his knees up to expose his cum soaked hole.  Horvath gripped his wrists together pinning the boy in place securely. Walters lowered himself between Horvath’s knees, positioning his cock against the spasming pucker.  Jürgen leaned his head back on Herr Horvath’s shoulder, while Horvath nuzzled his neck.  The lingering aroma of cigar coming from Horvath’s skin filled his nose, making his body go limp.

 

Walters slowly pushed his cock inside the kid, meeting no resistance, not after the Hungarian beast had used him and lubricated his entire fuck channel with his hot cum.

 

Walters took his time, letting the young hole massage his cock with every downstroke and upstroke.  Where Horvath had been forceful and intense, Walters was gentle and easy.  He pistoned in regular, even rhythm, wanting the kid to enjoy a nice slow lazy fuck.  Horvath had switched to playing with the blonde youth’s nipples, kissing and licking his neck, driving the boy crazy with sensory overload.  Jürgen was completely limp, moaning and mumbling to himself in German. Horvath moved one hand up to put two fingers in Jürgen’s mouth, pulling one leg further up and stretching out his young, athletic body.  Walters began stroking deeper, bottoming out then tightening his ass cheeks to get a partial inch more of penetration.  He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, so he began fucking the kid with more force, the feeling of fucking into Horvath’s load was amazing.  “I’m going to blow my load up your ass!  Here it comes!”  And he gave a growl as he went balls deep when his throbbing cock spewed more cum inside the kid.  “Oh fuck yeah!  Hot little hole on you, boy.  So good.”

 

When he was fully spent, he pulled his cock out of Jürgen’s once again tight hole.  By this time, Horvath was ready to go a second time.  The Army beast pulled the smaller kid up a little so his cock could find his hole. Jürgen reached down to grab the meat slab and guide it in.  Horvath pushed the young blonde down until he was buried.  The characteristic he loved most about young Jürgen was his complete pliability.  The boy didn’t squirm, or fight, or resist in any way.  It didn’t matter which position a cock entered him, whether first fuck or fifth, he simply took it.  He would continue to take a fucking as long as Horvath needed him to, as many times as it took, as many loads as Horvath and Walters had to shoot up his beautiful pliant hole.  And the kid loved and enjoyed the fifth fuck as much as the first.  Horvath had never encountered anyone who accepted multiple, repetitive fucking from his huge cock like Jürgen, except for one prostitute in Vegas when he was 22.  But even then it was unsatisfying because he wasn’t going to raw dog a prostitute, and shooting into a condom took away a vital aspect great sex.  Fucking and cumming into a rubber accomplished the basic physical need, similar to jacking off.  But knowing that your seed was going to be fucked inside another person, and that person wanted your seed inside them elevated the experience to something intensely satisfying.  It almost seemed like the kid wanted them to get him pregnant with their virility so it would grow inside him.  Honestly, Horvath found that intensely erotic.  Jürgen was special, he loved it when the older Americans pumped his ass full of their elixir of masculinity.  He got the sense that the kid wasn’t necessarily gay, only enamored of the American soldiers, their size, the confidence and competency with which they carried themselves, their maturity and masculinity.  And that excited Horvath too, that Jürgen happily allowed himself to be fucked because it was one way he could be useful to the men he admired.

 

The kid had placed his feet on Horvath’s knees so he could maintain position while Horvath thrust his hips.  Horvath gripped the blonde youth’s hips, pulling him up and down on his pole, and Jürgen’s shoulders and head rested against the Sergeant’s hot furry chest.  The kid was moaning, still mumbling in German.  Walters couldn’t translate it, but Horvath could.  How he was being fucked by a real man, so big, the feel of his hairy body, so deep, he loved being taken by Horvath’s beautiful meat, how he needed to take Horvath’s seed and it would make him a man.  The fact he wasn’t talking to Horvath, only to himself out loud made it more exciting.

 

The Sergeant was long dicking the kid now, his monster cock pistoning the full eleven plus inches with every stroke.  The smack of his hips against Jürgen’s fuzzy cheeks beating out a rhythm that spoke of carnal need.  He knew the kid’s hole was being punished, tenderized by his fuck stick.  Jürgen had begun repeating “Ja, Ja, Ja.” over and over, and “Gibt es Mir, ja!”  Driving him on.

 

The moment came when Horvath felt his balls draw up and he knew he was going to fuck another huge load up the kid’s already sperm filled cunt.  He grabbed the boy in a powerful hug and slammed him down on his cunt wrecker, feeling his warm nut propel out his piss slit up inside Jürgen’s desperate guts.  And then the kid’s lean muscles went taut, his own cock releasing his boyseed to fly up his smooth hairless chest.  They came together, each volley perfectly matched in time.  Horvath loved how Jürgen almost always came without touching himself.  The kid relaxed fully against Horvath’s chest, dropping his legs to straddle the Sergeant’s thighs.

 

“So geil.  Very sexy, is very hot.” The kid breathed in a satisfied sigh.  “I must always have your sperm inside me, Sir.”

 

“I’ve told you before, boy, Americans call it cum.  To say sperm is too formal for having sex, especially good sex.  We say sperm with doctors and in proper situations to remove the sexual part.”  Horvath explained.

 

“Yes, I know this.  It is difficult to think because of the hot fucking.  I must always have your cum inside me, Sir.  I like your cum.”  The kid repeated with a wiggle of his ass which still gripped the Sergeant’s cock.

 

The scene of Horvath and Jürgen snuggled in post orgasm contentment was endearing.  Jürgen still had his head leaned back into the crook of Horvath’s neck, their faces rubbing against each other’s side by side.  Horvath was lazily running his hands up and down the kid’s smooth compact chest and abdomen, smearing the boy’s load over his skin.

 

“You’re such a good boy.” He gave Jürgen’s cheek a quick peck.  “Go take a shower.  You need to get home before your parents worry.”

 

Jürgen shrugged.  “They know that I am here with you and Herr Walters.  But you are right.  I must study.  My test will be Monday for my Finanzen Classe.  There will be many questions and I must perform well.  I will receive the highest mark.”

 

“Yes, you must.  Studies are very important. Go on, get cleaned up.” He patted Jürgen’s chest.

 

“Ja, ja.  I am doing this, but it is difficult to climb down from this tree.” He joked with a laugh.

 

“GRRRRR, you will get another fucking if you don’t.”

 

Jürgen’s ass gave another wiggle, and squeezed down on the cock still stretching his hole.  “Then I must stay.  You must have all the fuckings for your hoden to become empty.”

 

With another growl, Horvath flipped the kid face down on the couch in one smooth movement, without his cock leaving the tight warm hole gripping it.  He railed the kid one more time, dumping what remained of his seed into the kid’s greedy cumhole.  He slowly extracted his cock and sat back, slapping Jürgen’s firm perky butt.  Another amazing talent of the kid’s hole was how it rarely let any of their cum leak out.  It always irised shut when they withdrew.

 

“Guess I have one more in me, too.” Walters said, climbing on before Jürgen moved.  His cock slid inside the supine boy easily, making the youth moan in pleasure.  He pumped forcefully for a couple minutes until he spewed a surprisingly thick, heavy full course of his nut deep up the kid’s fuckchute.  He pulled out, kissing the kid’s neck tenderly.  “Thank you, Jürgen.”

 

Jürgen smiled.  He always loved these times with the two Americans.  They always made him feel wanted, desired, important.  They never fucked him just once, and it never took them long to go again.  Even with his limited experience, he knew that was unusual.  He got up from the couch, a big smile plastered on his young handsome face.  He stretched, extending his arms above his head.  He noticed the eyes of the men running over his lean, lanky form.  It made him feel attractive.  Oh, he knew he was very good looking, but having the appreciation of such well built masculine real men thrilled him and gave him a warm feeling inside.

 

“Thank you, Sirs.  I will have all your cum in me while I sleep tonight, and I will sleep very well.”  He looked at Horvath for approval.  He knew it had to be a large amount, Herr Horvath always produced a large volume of sperm… cum.   

 

“Very good, boy.  That was perfect English.” Horvath praised.  “Sehr gut.”

[timfreo]

Very super hot story. Loving it!! 

[Assmunch]

ASSMUNCH

 

********************

 

“Fuck, my ass hurts.”  Sleeper groaned.

 

“Shut up you big baby.” I snorted.  “You forget, I know what kind of pain that is.  It’s the kind that reminds you over and over how hard you shot your load while your shitter got destroyed.  Every spike of pain damn near makes your dick hard all over again.  And you feel proud you took it all the way.”  I helped him climb off the crates and handed him his flimsy bikini briefs.  “If you don’t feel tougher because you took that beating, you aren’t thinking of it right.”

 

Zeus and I, not having undressed, just flipped up the waistbands of our respective bottoms, my shorts and his sweatpants neither of which left our thighs.

 

Sleeper paused.  “Yeah, it does kind of feel like that.  I never thought getting fucked would make me feel like more of a man.  That’s fucked up though.”

 

“It’s just sex.” I shrugged.  “Some things make it better.  Freeing your mind is the only way to really get the most out of it.”

 

Sleeper crossed his arms.  “Still not sure about the kissing.  No offense, Zeus.” He offered.  “It’s just too…. “

 

“Personal?” I suggested when he paused.

 

Sleeper gestured apologetically.  “Yeah.  Like I’m supposed to get all soft and mushy with a dude.  But that’s not how I feel.”

 

I reached out to squeeze my best friend’s shoulder.  “Fair enough.  But Zeus was driving that bus, the kissing was for him, not you.  You did something that let him enjoy it more so it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

 

Zeus chimed in with a determined, unapologetic blunt observation.  “I wanted to kiss you.”  Which, Zeus being a God, put an end to that and I knew if we ever did this again Sleeper was just going to deal with Zeus’s tongue down his throat.  Zeus’s overwhelming presence made denial a non-option, like trying to refuse a second beer, or hitting on a hot chick when her boyfriend’s back was turned.

 

“Let’s go crash.  I’m worn out.”  I changed the subject.  We didn’t need to prolong this clandestine meeting.  Tomorrow we had studying to do, laundry, barracks maintenance and housekeeping because we’d probably be getting an inspection at some point.  That was another fact of life we had to deal with here.  Being quartered as a unit meant keeping our shared space up to Army standards and regulations.  Other posts didn’t have to put up with that beyond Basic, the detailed micro inspection of a D.I.  Yeah, it was expected that the common areas of dorm style quarters were clean and orderly, and room inspection happened IF you gave your superiors a reason, but it was nowhere near the insane expectations for a barracks.

 

I opened the door a crack to make sure the coast was clear.  No one was in the hallway.  I darted out, closing the door behind me.  Just as I got to the corner, Puta walked out from the door down the other direction that led to the toilets and showers.  Fuck!  Anyone else I could distract back to the bunk bay, and I hoped Zeus and Sleeper were smart enough to space out our leaving the storage room.  But Puta was a stubborn ass who ferreted out manipulation like a cadaver dog sniffing out a dead body.

 

I made sure to barely acknowledge him, putting the thought in my head that I was just finishing up the party cleanup, and kept walking around the corner.  Believe the story in your head and your body wouldn’t give away nervousness or deception.

 

“Ay, Puta, why you no done yet?”  Puta said from behind me.

 

I gave him a half-lidded gaze, signaling I didn’t want to deal with his crap.  “I AM done yet, Puta.” I walked a little faster, hoping it would lead him away from any position he might see Zeus or Sleeper exiting the storage room. “Getting all that shit put back to hide our stash takes as long as it takes.”

 

As we entered the bay where we all slept, I realized the flaw in my story.  Only four racks were empty.  And I know Puta saw that too.  Sleeper’s, mine, and Zeus’s racks were the only ones not slept in, appearing untouched and perfectly regulation.

 

“Yes, Puta.  Doin’ dat takes a while.  Hmmmm?”  The Puerto Rican sounded like he was making a threat.

 

Oh, I didn’t like that.  That was not gonna happen.  “You got a problem, Puta?  Something on your mind?”  I looked directly in his eyes, challenging him to meet me on my level.  Physically, Puta and I were sized equally, his bravery was all mental and if I had to I would put him in his place and remind him why I was Squad Leader.  He didn’t scare me.  That’s the bonus of having closed off every emotional feeling you possessed - I just didn’t give a fuck.  If Puta wanted to dial things up, I could crank up my dial until he realized he wasn’t going to win.  The dead, unflinching look in my eyes seemed to shake him.  He looked away.  It was critical that he didn’t say out loud what he might have been thinking, because there was no path back from that.

 

“I don’t got no problem, Assmunch.”

 

“Maybe I heard wrong.  Sorry for jumping, brother.”  Always give them a face-saving out, a way to keep their pride.  His use of my nickname rather than calling me Puta was his apology.  Ah, the dance we had to do to maintain the fiction, let a man remain unimmasculated, and keep anything REAL from getting within arm’s length.  He fired his passive volley, I put it back in his face, he realized he’d put himself in a no-win situation, apologized, and I forgave him all without saying any of that explicitly.  But I was still irritated that he wouldn’t have dared pull that shit with Zeus or Sleeper.  My intuition flared up and told me that there was a sliver of a possibility I had read it wrong, but it wasn’t enough to bring me to the point of saying anything.  I did make sure my gaze never left him, watching him walk to his messy bunk and climbing under the blankets, the entire time I was reading his body language for clues to what might have given him the ballsy courage to challenge me.  He appeared suitably cowed, so I turned to head to my rack when Zeus entered the bay.

 

Keeping my voice low, but still enough for Puta to hear if he was listening which I knew he was, I said “Why are you still awake, Zeus?  I thought you’d be asleep by now.”  God, I hoped the giant could read between the lines.

 

Zeus’s eyes darted to Puta’s bunk behind me, and I relaxed.  He had to have heard us talking.  “I had something to do, Assmunch.”  Perfect.  Almost dismissive without even a hint of any other emotion.  Zeus wouldn’t lie, which was what I was afraid of the most - that nerve-wracking habit of blunt inappropriateness.  But I should have known in such a public space with all the brothers present Zeus would revert to that calm, unruffled dangerous tight-lipped personal shield he wore like an unassailable fortification.  I really needed to learn how to do that… it would have stopped Puta before he even got out of the gate with whatever he was thinking.

 

“Well let’s get some sleep.” I said, going to my rack.

 

It took me less than a minute to fall into an exhausted sleep.

 

*****************

The next couple weeks passed with me trying to keep my composure after the run-in with Puta.  I had to warn Sleeper and Zeus to lay low.  It wasn’t so much Sleeper I was worried about in that regard, but Zeus because puppy dog Zeus had no restraint.  Thankfully they both got the message.  Every once in a while I’d see Puta staring at me or watching Zeus and Sleeper as if trying to puzzle out whether what he suspected really happened, and between who.  Puta wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out three of his squad disappeared at the same time for no good reason.  I think he was confused about how it could involve either of those two because neither was a guy you’d believe could do anything with another guy.  We got lucky I suppose, for a number of obvious reasons.  One, that it was Zeus, Sleeper and me who were under his scrutiny -the three brothers you didn’t want to mess with.  Two, that with three of us it made it difficult to know which two were fucking around and if he guessed wrong it wasn’t going to go well for him to expose the wrong guys.  I could read that much in his stares, him trying to do the math and fit the puzzle pieces together of who might do what with who.  Three, that none of us acted any different than we always did.  Zeus stayed quiet, kept to himself.  Sleeper remained the confident arrogant prick who flaunted himself.  And me spreading my attention around to everyone who needed help with our current training section, catching screw ups before they caught Sarge’s attention, keeping the Squad and the Bravos on task and focused which meant I didn’t need to spend more than brief moments with Sleeper or Zeus who both had an exceptional handle on their training.  And four, the most important one of all - he had no proof.  He hadn’t seen or heard shit, not even us leaving the storage room together.

 

That didn’t mean it wasn’t weighing on me.  We only had a few weeks to go, and then we’d be broken up and shipped off to our new permanent station, folded in to our new battalions where we’d become true soldiers.  Of course I blamed myself a little for being so careless.  I made the decision right then that there wouldn’t be any more meet ups.

 

But when it all came crashing down, Puta wasn’t the problem.

[shinelover]

Fuck, I love this story. Every part is HOT!

[laguyinhou]

You *had* to put that last sentence in there, didn't you? 

[Assmunch]

3 hours ago, laguyinhou said:

You *had* to put that last sentence in there, didn't you? 

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

[Assmunch]

4 hours ago, shinelover said:

Fuck, I love this story. Every part is HOT!

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

[Assmunch]

ASSMUNCH

*********************

 

When you get booted, it happens fast.  It’s intended to be overwhelming so that you don’t have time to think because they’ve already decided you’re leaving.  Oh, they play their games with the questions, instilling fear in you with threats of court martial if it’s that serious.   They ask the questions, you answer.  They lay out the worst case scenario if you choose to play it out, and everything is painted in terms of damning evidence no matter how flimsy.  It didn’t matter anyway because no 19 year old has any idea what qualifies as admissible evidence and it’s all damning.  And they know that.  They know you don’t know any better and they use your ignorance against you.  Add to that they’ve trained you to recognize the Army has total control over you.  It’s not even subconscious, it’s right there in the front of your brain, every day.  You don’t fight Command because you lose every time.

 

But you’re scared.  So fucking scared.  You can’t think straight.  Standing in front of your First Sergeant you have no power, no control and you feel your life slipping away.  You want to throw up and feel like you’re going to lose control of your bladder and bowels.  You’re told you could spend years in military prison.  Almost none of what they hit you with is true or at least so unquestionable it can’t be argued.  It’s pure Interrogation Manual tactics.  But more experienced minds would instantly recognize if they lobbed a slow pitch like a less than honorable it meant they were hoping to get you to take yourself out because putting you through the grinder of a tribunal or trial had little chance of success.  And the sickest, most twisted part of it is that you end up feeling just a little grateful that they’re being kind enough to give you a way out that doesn’t mean being dragged in front of a tribunal, your shame publicized, and you get to stay out of prison.  All you have to do is admit you broke the military code of conduct or the UCMJ.

 

When you have time in the long regret of life beyond your destroyed dreams you might think through it all with a clear head and realize the game they played.  Maybe it would occur to you that they didn’t want the mess and negative publicity that formal discharge fight would entail.  And you might follow the logic to the conclusion that if these old guard career military had anything near a slam dunk case you’d never get an offer of bowing out gracefully.  The Army loved to make public examples of bad conduct.  So, your older clearer mind would ponder, why would they work so hard to avoid making an example of you?  Discharges happened for all sorts of reasons and routine ones happened weekly because the Army doesn’t tolerate fuck-ups.

 

All that was going through my head when Sarge called me off the rifle range and told me to report to Top.  We were in the middle of rifle qualification, and a summons by the First Sergeant was nothing less than dead serious, especially if it interrupts training.

 

It was either because of the meet ups with Sleeper, or the stunt I pulled out in the field.  If that fucker Puta ran his mouth I was going to make him eat through a straw for the next six months.  Sarge was blank faced, I couldn’t read any clue from him and when I asked his reply was short.

 

“First Sergeant’s orders.  Don’t make him wait, Private.”

 

So there I sat outside Top’s office trying not to lose my mind.  I was going through explanations for my actions in an attempt to be prepared, but I had trouble focusing.  Every worst case scenario kept interfering.  Was this another tactic - interrupt my qualifications course, have me rush here, then make me stew until I was ready to break?  Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!

 

“The First Sergeant is ready for you, Private.  Go in.”  His clerk jolted me back to reality.

 

I knocked on the door and heard ‘Enter.’ from inside.  I really tried to walk through the door with confidence but part of me knew I was anything but that.

 

“Close the door Private.”  I immediately did, then assumed attention.

 

“First Sergeant.” I addressed him.

 

“At ease, Brickmann.”  The First Sergeant looked tired.  He was maybe in his early 40’s, somewhere around my dad’s age.  Still in pretty good shape, but I guess they don’t pick the fat ones to run the show, that might look bad.  “Son, there’s no good or easy way to say this.  Your father has died.  Your mother is expecting your call.  Use my phone.  Nolan will put you through, just tell him the number.”  He got up from his chair and motioned me to sit down.

 

I didn’t move.  What?  That can’t be right.  I just talked to him three days ago, Sunday.  We talked about the playoffs and the upcoming college bowl games.  He twisted his back playing golf, but was fine.  He was going to take mom to some fancy restaurant and a play for her birthday next month.  Just normal dad stuff.

 

“Top, that’s not funny.  Why am I here?  Am I in trouble?”  That made more sense.  If this was another sick and stupid tactic to throw me off, they were about to meet one super pissed off Private.  They could fuck ALL the way off with that bullshit.

 

“Son, just-“

 

“DON’T CALL ME… “ I shut it down.  Control.  Stay in control, I told myself.  “What is this about, First Sergeant?  The truth….  please.”

 

Top looked even more tired.  “Call your mother.  I’ll make it an order if I have to.”

 

I moved around him to his chair and picked up the phone.  I watched Top leave, closing the door behind him.

 

I told SSgt. Nolan my home phone number, and heard my mom pick up.  It was mid morning back home in Texas and I was glad that I wouldn’t be waking her up.

 

“Mom?  What’s going on?”  I tried to sound calm, but my voice was shaking.

 

“Tom, sweetheart your father died last night.  I’m so sorry I have to tell you like this.”  She sounded strangely composed.

 

“How?” was all I could manage to get out.

 

“He woke up about three, went to the bathroom, then came back asking where the heartburn medicine was.  Then he couldn’t get back to sleep, so I made him a grilled cheese.  You know he loves those.  Then he sat in his chair and told me he married a good woman.  He fell asleep in his chair, and when I went to put a blanket on him, he wasn’t breathing.  The ambulance people said it might have been a heart attack from the sound of the symptoms.”

 

I sat there stunned.  How could he die like that, so fast?  He wasn’t old.  He was the strongest man I knew, he could handle anything.  He couldn’t be gone.  I imagined him sitting in his chair the last time I was home, we were watching ESPN talking about pre-season baseball and the Pittsburg Pirates.  I imagined the smell of mom’s grilled cheese, also one of my favorites.  I thought about the beer dad let me drink that trip, because he said I was a man now after graduating Basic.  Even though he knew I’d had beer before, but this was my first beer with my dad, and yeah, that made me feel like a man for the first time too.

 

“Tom?  Are you okay?”  Mom pulled me back from my thoughts.  “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

 

I reasserted control, clamped down on my crumbling heart and the tears I felt filling my eyes.  This was not the time for that.  My mom had to be hurting and I could push my own emotional storm down to do whatever I could to help her through this.  I put the raging debris of my own feelings in a box and shoved it behind a door in my mind.  This pain would not master me.

 

“I’m okay, mom.  Are you doing okay?”  I answered her with a confidence that was entirely faked.  The last thing she needed was to worry about me.

 

She didn’t answer right away.  Knowing her, she was probably trying to decide whether to believe me.  Apparently she chose to let me lie to her.  “I’m fine.”  I heard her sigh.  “There’s a lot to do, but I have time.  I’m supposed to meet with your father’s commander today.  He said they’ll do whatever they can to deal with the arrangements and paperwork.  I don’t know what he’ll be able to do, but he’s going to talk with your commander and get you home for the funeral.”

 

“When?  Mom, I don’t know what happens if I don’t complete training. I’m too close to finishing.”  God, if I had to choose, the Army was going to kiss my ass.  Would they do that to me?  Probably, the Army didn’t give a crap about our personal feelings.  I slammed the panicked thought into the steel wall of my determination.  Let them try.  I welcomed the opportunity to prove they couldn’t force me to make an impossible choice.

 

“I don’t know either, sweetheart.  Talk to your First Sergeant.  Call me this weekend, when you have time.  We’ll both know more.  Timmy wants to talk to you.  I love you sweetheart.”

 

My younger brother’s voice came over the phone.  “Tom?” He sounded sad.

 

“Yeah, little bro?  You doing okay, bud?”  Fuck, this was hard being half a world away.  I should be there, hugging them both.  My brother was only 16, he shouldn’t have to handle this shit without his big brother.  This was a triple kick in the gut and the tears threatened to unman me again.  There was an empty space left behind by my dad and I was SUPPOSED to fill it for my family, but I wasn’t there when they needed me.  The unfairness and powerlessness made me angry.  I couldn’t let it leak out where Tim could hear so I did what I had become far too comfortable with, I locked the anger away.  I wasn’t important.  My feelings didn’t matter.  Tim needed me to be strong and I would help him be strong because we were TNT, TomAndTim… the dynamite Brickmann Bros.

 

“Dad died, Tom.  I don’t know how I am.”  The lost sound in his words broke my fucking heart.  “They took him away in the ambulance and he’s not here anymore and he should be here.”   

 

‘I’m sorry I’m not there either, Tim’ I thought to myself.  “Yeah, bud, I know.  It sucks so bad.  But you know mom needs you.  I’m coming home, but I don’t know when they’ll get me there.  So you gotta be the man, okay?  Can you do that for me bud?”

 

I heard him sniff and knew he was crying.  That made me want to cry too.

 

“I guess I can.” Tim said.  “Mom said I don’t have to go to school, but I don’t want to be here.  I don’t know if I want to go to school either.  I don’t know, Tom.  I don’t know where to go!  What am I supposed to do?”

 

The threat of losing control stampeded inside my chest at hearing my sweet brother falling apart and having no idea how to handle something no kid should have to endure.  But I could help him at least this much.

“You stick with mom today, buddy.  She’s got a lot of calls to make, she’s going to the base, and probably more errands.  Just hang out with her, and listen, to everything.  I need you to tell me what you see and hear, and if mom loses it you call me here, I’ll make sure you have a number where you can get a message to me.  We have to make sure mom’s okay.  That’s all you have to do today, and tomorrow.  Got it bro?”

 

“Okay, Tom.  Can you come home soon?”  He said in a quiet voice.

 

“As soon as the Army will let me.  I love you, buddy.  Can’t wait to see you and give you a huge hug.”

 

“I love you too.  Bye.”

 

I stayed on the phone, wondering if mom was going to come back on, but it just clicked to silence.  I hung up and went to the door.  Outside, Top was standing next to SSGT Nolan at his desk, talking with him.  They both looked over when they heard the sound of the door opening.

 

“Everything okay, Private?”  Top asked.

 

“Yes.  Everything’s fine.” I know it came out cold and emotionless, but I had no room in me for entertaining empty sympathies.  “Could you make sure my family has a way to get a message to me any time they need to, even after duty hours?”

 

“Already done, Private.  SSGT Nolan is going to make the arrangements for you to get home for the funeral.  Let’s talk in my office.”

 

I got six days leave, two of which were for travel.  They were flying me civilian there, through Frankfurt, then Atlanta, then Austin.  They didn’t have a date for the funeral yet, so couldn’t get me on a hop to the States.  But I would be on a military hop on the way back out of Ft. Hood because there would be plenty of lead time and there were already scheduled flights on the books for equipment and personnel transfer.

 

Dad’s Commander said dad was eligible to be buried at Arlington.  He was a Vietnam Vet, and died as an active duty soldier.  But mom didn’t want him to be buried that far away from home.  It was an immense honor that didn’t feel right for dad, or our family.  There was a VA Cemetery in Killeen, Texas and the VA helped mom with all the arrangements, which was a godsend both financially and personally.  Dad would like that.

 

Sarge said all our training modules would be 98% complete by the time of my leave, and I could take my last test early or when I got back.  The relief that brought freed me to focus on my training and thoughts of my family.

 

I decided not to wait to try for Ranger School and told Sleeper, who then convinced Zeus to make his request with us.  We filled out our paperwork in the Lieutenant’s office.  Now it was up to the Army to decide if we had what they wanted for the Rangers after completing AIT.  It seemed more important now that I didn’t take my time moving forward with my career in the Army.  Yeah, dad had cautioned me to wait, to get more experience serving before making that choice, but I couldn’t shake the need to determine the important course of my career NOW.  Why should I wait?  Delaying held an emptiness, a void that demanded to be filled as if having too many possibilities diluted all potential.  Dad had died, which painted everything in colors of finality - my completion of AIT, the probable separation of my Platoon as we got PCS’d to different duty stations in new locations, turning 20 and leaving behind the title of teenager.  So why shouldn’t I clean the whole slate, leaving the Infantry behind?  That the word Infantry spelled out ‘Infant try’ seemed like a sign to me.  I could not accept being led anymore, my path was my own to determine.  I was no longer a child who could rely on my dad to guide me.  Necessity demanded a choice as it always does and I felt the weight of the waiting decision smothering me with its constant presence.  I could not reason it away.

 

Foolishly I held myself apart from my brothers who meant well but had no comparable experience with which to empathize.  Their sympathies felt obligatory which on some level I knew was unfair to them.  “Sorry about your dad, bro.”  Empty words.  They could never pull me from where I tumbled in the back flow undercurrent of the seething rapids that my thoughts and feelings had become.  They still traveled on the surface down the river, while I existed trapped by this vortex.  I moved through the next week and a half with a machined efficiency, using tasks and classes to get me through each day.  I called home collect every night before bed check just to let mom and Tim know I was there in spirit and to hear how things were going.

 

I had to travel by train to Frankfurt for my flight.  I should have enjoyed the sights of the countryside but I let my mind get lost, retreating to that place where there was no ‘me’.  I left my body on automatic, my brain knew what to do.  I had to change trains once, but travel by train in Europe was easy I found.  At the airport there was a USO volunteer waiting for me in front of the ticket counter.  I didn’t need a babysitter and the unjustified anger that flared up inside me brought me to my senses before I lashed out.  It was unlike me to get angry.  I wanted to hit something, or someone.  I shoved it behind another steel door in my mind without looking at the feeling too closely.

 

I hadn’t brought much with me because I had civilian clothes at home that would still fit so I didn’t need to check a bag.  I brought my Class A’s for the funeral and a couple other things, which fit easily into a medium sized army issue backpack.  He already had my tickets printed out and explained my layover in Atlanta and how to find my flight to Austin.  I regretted the anger I’d felt.  It was actually helpful that he’d done all the footwork for me.  I suppose that was his job, but I still felt grateful that it would allow me to avoid reality for just a while longer.

 

I ignored his approving eyes as I felt him checking me out while we walked to my gate.  He could tell I wasn’t in a talkative mood and stayed silent, for which I was relieved.  As we passed a bar, I told him I wanted a beer.  In the States the drinking age was now 21, but here in Germany any 16 year old could drink beer, and liquor at 18. My gate was not far, and Phillip responded with a polite no thank you when I offered to buy him one too.  He was working, which I understood.  I wanted to be alone anyway.  I said goodbye to Phillip, and thanked him for his help.  He told me to contact the USO office here at the airport if something happened with my flight, and I had a momentary panic that there was the possibility I couldn’t get home.

 

“Just in case, Private.  Nothing will go wrong.” He said when he saw my panicked face.

 

I didn’t correct him about calling me Private when I was out of uniform.  He had to know better.  I think he was agreeing to the distance I demanded with my quietness.

 

I had three hours before my flight.  I ordered a beer and sat at the bar.  Before I was almost done with my first, I felt someone take the seat beside me.

 

“Flying home, soldier?” The rough American voice said.  I turned to look.  A man in his low 30’s sat there, his hair cut to regulation, but even if it hadn’t marked him as military his bearing would.  He was ruggedly handsome, a seriousness hung in the air around him that spoke of deadly competence and unworried confidence.  Before I could answer, he told the bartender to get me another, and one for him.

 

“Yeah.  Family business.”  I responded.  I neglected to thank him for the beer.

 

“Ah.  A funeral then.  Who?”  No empty words of sympathy.  No attempts to soothe my pain.  I found myself grateful for the casual directness.  He seemed to know that assumed familiarity would bring bitterness.  Maybe he’d been in my shoes, it sure seemed like it.

 

“My dad.”

 

He raised his glass to offer a toast.  “To your dad.  And fuck the bullshit of losing them young.”

 

The perfection of his words brought my own glass up to join his without thought, the ease of the natural conclusion did more to calm the turbulence inside me than all the sympathy in the world could do.  I really looked at him this time.  He wore civvies, a long sleeved grey plaid flannel over a thermal undershirt, the sleeves rolled up over thick forearms that had a sprinkling of dark brown hair.  Faded jeans which gripped his sturdy thighs above brown suede hiking boots.  His brown eyes possessed a hardened severity that spoke of his own memories of death, locked immobile in an unblinking stare ahead.

 

He allowed a couple minutes of silence while we sipped our beers.  It felt right, this shared pain.

 

“I’ll listen if you want, but that’s not what you need, is it?”  It was gruff, but kind.  Again he saw me exactly where I was.  No, I didn’t need a shoulder to cry on, least of all from a stranger.

 

So we talked with few words over the next two hours, and he told me he he was with the 75th, a Ranger.  I told him I’d made my request and hoped to go to Ranger School.  We spoke of many things, none of them about my dad.  There were frequent stretches of silence, and it was comfortable.  I realized he knew.  He knew that it was not his place to hear those intimate details, and that sharing them would not help me.  He wasn’t trying to distract me.  We were simply being… being there, together.  At some point I realized our arms touched as we leaned them on the bar while we talked.  I came to notice we sipped our beers with our other hands so that the contact would remain.  I felt his strength, wanting to siphon it from him, maybe borrow it for what was ahead.

 

I focused my eyes on his hand, relaxed so close to mine.  Rough and capable with scars that decorated his knuckles, his middle finger slightly misaligned as if from an injury that hadn’t healed right.  His skin was closer to a working worn than an unused softness.  Busy hands familiar with facility and struggle.

 

Before we’d finished our third beer, he said “let’s go”.  I brought my glass up to drink the last of mine, and he stopped me with a hand on my wrist.

 

“Leave it.  For them.”  His hard stare allowed no argument.  It said this was the way of men, of homage and respect and keeping their memory.  Those of us left behind could not forget, the fallen deserved no less.  And in that moment the loss of my father seemed graciously less than the loss he’d endured.  Suddenly, the full mug that had sat untouched beside his the entire time hit me.  Hard.

 

“There it is.”  He said softly.  He wrapped his heavy arm around my neck and pressed his face to the short new hair growth on my head as silent tears fell from my eyes.  I leaned into his soft grey flannel, his solidness an anchor.  I didn’t cry or sob.  It wasn’t self pity or useless indulgence flowing from my eyes.  The sudden knowledge of irreversible change and being forced to move forward when the unfulfilled will exist beside you always and pushes at your soul.  My tears were recognition of what was rather than what wasn’t: the pain I had to carry with honor.  It was the first thaw of a frozen river, quiet but gently inevitable as rivulets descended over my cheeks to drip from my jaw.  His warm nearness coupled with the heat of his breathing against my skull melted the frigid world inside me.  His lips were soft against my ear.  It was intimate not invasive.  I don’t know how long we sat like that, it felt both too long and not long enough, but he didn’t move until I returned from the emptiness.

 

“Thank you.” I mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed, righting myself.

 

“No shame.”  Again he allowed no argument.  “If you join us, you’ll be my brother.  We’re the only ones who understand.  There is no shame, not with us.”  He gave me a solid pat on the back.  “Let’s go, we’re boarding.”

 

He and three of his brothers were on my flight, and because the plane wasn’t full, after takeoff they moved to sit in empty seats around me.  I felt like they were protecting me.  No… not that.  They were letting me rest on their strength, to show me how strength was shared and your brothers carried the weight when you couldn’t.  They shared their laughter and some tales of their adventures, avoiding anything serious.  I slept some, as did they, but it seemed like there was always at least one of them keeping an eye on me.  I realized I had been wrong to keep myself apart from my brothers in the Bravos, most especially Sleeper, but also Zeus the only one who hadn’t tried to fill my emptiness with platitudes.

 

We said goodbye after landing in Atlanta.  They were headed to Washington.  They each hugged me tight, said “see ya around, little bro.” which felt really good.

 

The funeral was somber, with a dignity I think I only understood after the Rangers had taken me under their wing.  There was an honor guard, and I and my brother Tim helped carry the casket, positioned in the middle.  Some of Dad’s friends had come.  Mom was presented with the flag and she cried.  I handed her one of Dad’s handkerchiefs I’d taken from his drawer, instead of the Kleenex she pulled from her purse, the simple act of which made her cry more, but that was okay.  I was surprisingly fine, having found my peace.  It was sad, and so unnecessary, but it couldn’t be undone.

 

The closest ones, family and lifelong friends, gathered at the house after.  Most everyone arrived together, but the door was left open for people to come and go.  I was talking with two of Dad’s buddies from Vietnam, they’d kept in touch after they’d left the Army in ‘73.  Our house was full, so when I caught a flash of straight blonde hair beside dark hair, I froze.

 

I excused myself from the men I was talking with, and wove through the people.  Grandma stopped me to ask how I was doing for the tenth time since I’d been home.  I assured her I was okay, asked her if she needed anything, to which she replied “that’s my job young man.  You don’t worry about that.”  I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

 

“You’re the boss.” I replied with a chuckle.  “I bet Grandpa loves that.”

 

Her grin was just a bit improper.  “He does, dear.  Often.”

 

I about choked.  “Why Grandma, I’m shocked!”

 

“No you’re not.” She sipped her wine giving me a knowing look.  “I think I saw your pretty blonde girl come in a few minutes ago, shameless boy.  Maybe you should find her.”

 

I was NOT ready for my Grandmother to know about Carol and my sexual history, but I guess mom and dad knew more than I thought they did if passing it on to my Grandparents made it family knowledge.

 

“I’m going to avoid the embarrassment and take your advice.  I love you Grandma.”  I kissed her again and continued searching.

 

I found them talking with my mom, obviously offering proper respects.  I was not prepared for the sight of them and how I reverted to high school Tom.  Some of the feelings surfaced, but I refused to acknowledge them.  They hadn’t seen me and were faced away, which meant my mom noticed me first from between their shoulders.  She stopped talking and they turned to see what had caught her attention.

 

God, he looked the same, except for the dark suit he wore that only made him look stronger and more powerful than I remembered.  But there was something more to him, something more real.  He had a presence that was undeniable with its ephemeral weight.  His almost black hair was braided back cleanly in two thick braids to either side of the crown of his head, joining at the back above the loose cascade that fell to his shoulders.  His straight remarkably defined jaw accented his handsome face like it always had.  He gazed at me unflinchingly, direct and deep.  His eyes were not soft grey flannel, they were the color of a promised storm.  And I felt him pull me in.  I resisted with the strength I borrowed, the pain I’d endured and the resolute steel I’d forged with the molten memories I had to burn with the pieces of my soul he’d left me.  It was a bloody battle we fought there in the midst of my oblivious guests.  His determination assaulted my carefully built fortress.  I felt the gates begin to fail.

 

“Kevin, don’t.  Please.” I begged.  It was all I had left.

 

“No Tom.” He dismissed me. “I know why you won’t answer my letters.  I understand why you think you needed to do everything you did.  But what you’re too stubborn to admit is that it wasn’t necessary.”  It was almost angry how he said it.

 

Retreat is wise in the face of overwhelming odds.  But I was trapped by obligation and had nowhere to go, and couldn’t even disappear to the place where I didn’t exist because I couldn’t trust my automatic brain not to fall into his arms and surrender me to him like it had always done.

 

“Kevin, maybe we should do this later.” Carol said softly, putting her hand on Kevin’s arm.

 

I still couldn’t break his gaze, he was a weakness for me.  But his eyes became lighter, the softness returned.  That only made it harder to resist him, but they released me, finally.

 

“Thank you both for coming.” I struggled for something neutral.  “But aren’t you missing classes?”  That sounded dumb, even to me.  I didn’t know how college worked.

 

“It’s winter break.  We don’t start again until next week.”  Carol explained.

 

 

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”  I stumbled in the words.  “Can you… would you tell me what it’s like?  How is college life?”  I was truly interested.  I needed to know they were both doing well, that life was everything they wanted.  I felt out of place in my own house, this civilian world while we talked about their experiences, the cities they lived in, all the normal things they did that I could never do.  It was too different, and it made me miss my Platoon and the Bravo Brotherhood.  The things I did and what l learned seemed far more important than football games and crazy professors.  Although sad, it was clear we were growing apart, at least Carol and I.  Kevin felt even better than I remembered.  He had a power to him that is hard to describe, shored up by a confidence that had only grown since graduation.  He still wasn’t a talker, but this reluctance to speak came from a place of strength rather than from holding back.

 

I often moved away from them, telling them I’d be back, so I could circulate and make sure I spent time with everyone who had come to remember my dad.  I listened to their favorite stories of him, learned a lot about who he was when he was younger.  A memorial can be a gift.  I had dreaded it before today, but was now thankful for it because it was like my dad lived again today in every story and conversation.

 

It was late now, almost 9:30.  Everyone had left except Grandpa and Grandma, who helped us clean up.  I’d said goodbye to Kevin and Carol a couple hours ago.  At the end of it, it was nice to hang out with them again.  And they watched over Tim, keeping him from going off to hide in his room.  Tim loved them both, and they’d always made him feel special while we were together in high school.

 

Finally Grandma and Grandpa left for their hotel.  Neither mine nor Tim’s bed was big enough for them, and that’s all we had.

 

I said good night to mom, gave her a kiss, and went to go shower and go to bed.

 

Not long after I fell asleep, I felt the bed move, and someone crawling into bed with me.  “Tim, you okay buddy?” I asked, rolling over to hug him.

 

But it wasn’t Tim’s smooth chest I felt.

 

He felt too good to let go, but I managed to blurt out “This isn’t a good idea, Kev.”  I could manage that much.

 

“You’re the only one who thinks that, Tom.  So how about you shut up?”  And then he grabbed me into a spoon, wrapping his big arms around me and pulling me into his hairy chest.  I didn’t have the strength to fight him.  I could smell his scent and with the exhaustion of today’s events it put me right to sleep, his mouth breathing gently against my neck.

 

I woke up holding him in our usual sleeping position, me behind him, naked.  My traitorous automatic brain did this, that fucking bastard.  My hardness was nestled in his cheeks, my face in his beautiful sweet smelling hair.  My body remembered how it was supposed to be even if my mind didn’t want to remember and fought my awareness with drowsy relaxation.  I hugged him tighter, my hips grinding into his backside, and before I realized what I was doing I was kissing his neck.  I know I was only half conscious and was lost in the comfortable weightlessness of this beautiful man.  He shifted slightly, moaning in my arms, half asleep himself.  My rigidity found his spot, but we were both enjoying this intimacy too much to pay too close attention.  He was now meeting me for every grinding push.

 

“I miss you, Tom” he mumbled.  “I miss you every day.”

 

We both gasped when I slipped inside him, but neither of us ceased our lazy movements.  My entry was not deep just…there.  My hands rubbed his solid chest, which felt so much firmer than I remembered.  My mouth worked on his neck and jaw, tasting him all over again.  I ran a hand down his flank amazed at the hardness I was feeling.  None of it felt real, it was a languorous dream state so slow I don’t recognize the moment I was fully inside him.  We simply moved so minutely every sensation became exquisite.  There was no purpose to it, merely a desire to float on this overwhelming feeling forever.  We remained that way for some time, I am unsure how long moving almost imperceptibly together, my length filing him for the first time, but it was long enough for every wall I’d built to crumble into dust, allowing my love for him to rise like the morning sun to warm away the ice with which I’d frozen my memories of him.

 

“I love you Kev.” I said into his hair.  “I miss you so bad I can’t take it sometimes.  I’m sorry.” I whispered.  “I’m sorry I’m not strong enough for you.” The tears were coming now as I cried into his hair, and with their release I felt my balls let go sending my love deep inside him.

 

“I’ll be strong for both of us.” He sighed.