The Marine and the Troll Under The Bridge

[Menbendovr]

Excellent!  Can’t wait for more.

[DevilDawg]

…continued…

When we had met, I had noted that Andy was a MCMAP Green Belt. This means besides his training as ‘Every Marine A Rifleman’, plus his MOS Qualifier Training, he had received over 75 hours of extra hand to hand combat techniques training and testing as well as ethical consideration training on when not to use those skills. Let’s face it, if you cripple someone in a bar fight even if they started it, you are going to get in a shitload of trouble. As he was trying to adapt to an appropriate response track, there were some complications such as being naked with a hardware laden cock hammering his ass. Even though I was an NCO, my training in ‘gay’ studies was very basic.  I was still at the Novice Freshman level. As I realized what was causing Andy’s distress, I neglected to consider how unhappy it would make the black cock owner that had been bruising my throat and cutting off my air. My understandable turning to help a Shipmate was also (I now know) bottom speak for: “Please use my other hole Sir”!

The time it took me to realize my mistake was about the same time it took for the BBC owner to hilt himself balls deep in my rectum. Except for Andy’s finger, my sphincter had been returning to normal in the 5 days since the Troll Gang Bang. Andy was still being hammered, My BBC had assumed a rabbit fuck pace, the press and heat of surrounding bodies was smothering. Andy disengaged by falling in a heap on the floor and about that time the Black Man who was fucking me yelled take my DNA while he increased his pace. My hardon was as stiff as when I had fucked Buddy not all that long ago. My ass hurt, my breathing was labored, my earlier air restriction / choking had my PTSD in overdrive and I realized I was shuddering min pure ecstasy in a trembling, shuddering, precum generating assgasm and leaking ejaculate in a drool out of my cock.

Andy and I had both lost our towels. Andy found two by feeling around on the cum slick floor. As we wormed our way out of the press of bodies and headed to the showers Andy was subdued and not talkative like he was before. In the well-lit showers, I noticed tiny rivulets of red on Andy’s Crack, Buttocks and Legs. Andy looked at me and said “Mike, I’m sorry, that got out of hand”. “Fuck that – are you OK”? “Just surprised is all” he said as he dropped to his knees as we both realized my cock was still stiff. Andy took me into his mouth and started sucking. My Cock was sensitive because of everything that had happened during the night, but it was a wonderful feeling, and it did not take long until I spurted in his mouth and he swallowed. Andy kept on sucking. People would come into the shower room, watch and some acted like they were trying to get involved but Andy and I pushed their hands away. Time was distorted but Andy started to alertness as he checked his watch – “Shit, we have to go”! We dressed wet, exited the bathhouse and summoned an Uber. We made it back in time for Andy to make morning muster. On the way, I had softly asked again if Andy was OK? If he was on PrEP? He responded that yes he was doing on-demand dosing but as he did so, said shit under his breath. When I asked what was wrong, he said I have a few but just need to get a refill.

I was still on my extension for bereavement leave but Andy had to hustle once we got back to the room. He was fishing with a spoon in his Muscle Milk and Protein Powder jars along with a few curses, fished out two pills and took them, dressed and rushed to muster. I fell onto my rack exhausted and leaking cum out of my ass. My energetic dreams were full of orgies and gang bangs.

I awoke to people entering the room. Shit, I had at least pulled a poncho liner over my naked leaking ass as I had gone back to bed. Fuck! Friday barracks inspection. As I started awake, my ass still wet and leaking cum onto my fully made-up rack blanket the First Sgt and Lt. came in. Phew, the Top was starting ‘on your feet’ but the LT said, “as you were”. He added “room unsat, square this room away Corporal. My condolences but your extension is up on Monday Morning” and they left. It took minutes for my heartrate to go down. At least they did not catch me with a boner or observe the sludge leaking out of my ass. I was not sure that my dick would ever rise again after that scare.

There was no way I was going to get back to sleep so I showered after trying to push the remaining cum out of my ass. Then I worked on getting the room back into acceptable status. By lunchtime, I needed to eat but avoided the chow hall. I grabbed my laptop and headed for McDonalds I had been treating my body like a toilet the last week so there was no reason to stop now.

I ordered some food with Iced Tea and found a corner where my screen could not be observed. The local WiFi soon kicked me off due to the searches I was performing. I switched over to my phone hotspot mode and continued.

I looked at web info on STD/STI transmission and moved to searches on gay sexual behavior. Breath Play was on the path I had seen listed when I selected a subtopic I thought I had never heard of called autoerotic asphyxiation but a reference citing David Caradine’s Cause of Death triggered a memory that I had heard about it but dismissed it. I recalled the total sensory overload I had experienced at the bathhouse as I was being fucked by Andy, the shock of the condom snapping like a rubber band, my being choked by the BBC, the clench, and the high velocity load that had shot out of my dick from the orgasmic overload. In my limited knowledge exchange from my Uncle, and previous viewing of straight and gay porn I was ill equipped with practical experience since it had been 6 days since my deflowering. I was acutely aware of the hard bench seat and the hard rod in my pants. The twitch in my ass became more urgent.

I had anticipated watching some porn, but my current discomfort of being Horney in a fast-food joint would just get worse if I did. I found myself daydreaming about what Andy and I would do over the weekend.

When I returned to the Barracks, I found a note from Andy that he had been tapped to replace a Marine on the TDY Rodie Crew member whose wife had gone into labor sooner than expected. My plans for the next two weeks went up in smoke. FUCK!

I sat in a funk at my desk for what seemed like hours. I thought of and discarded going to the bathhouse after Thursday’s experience. The only other person who had proffered any guidance on these gay topics was Leo and I needed to consider a best path forward to avoid screwing everything up. In the short term, I performed a manual release on the toilet thinking about the past week, then showered and hit the rack for a night of troubled sleep.

Saturday Morning, I woke to morning wood but as I stroked, I remembered my plan of action. I went into my wall locker and pulled out my folded Flyer’s Kitbag. These heavy-duty large B Bags were built for heavy amounts of gear and were durable enough not to burst when stressed. There were two reinforced handles since Marines in Uniform do not really have the need for sissy backstraps, nor would they get away with using them anyway. These bags were simply improved in materials but had not changed much since Viet Nam. The zipper was no longer metal but heavy duty synthetic. The logistics and equipment designers had also by design or happy accident engineered a bag you could carry a shitload of pizzas in without mangling the pizzas. I laid it on my rack.

I was in my running shoes, PT shorts, and T Shirt. On my left bicep was my PT phone and ID holder with a zip for cash and plastic. I went for a short run. My route took me by the overpass where I noticed familiar figures. Good, the periodic cycle of clearing homeless encampments had not affected my cherry pickers. I returned to Barracks where I pulled a pair of board shorts over the PT shorts because while I could wear the civilian T at the Class 6/Marine Mart the PT shorts would get me written up or hinder my mission. I grabbed the B Bag then went to the Class 6 and got a 24 pack suitcase of Bud Light, then headed for the pizza place that was just opening for the day. Armed with a B-Bag full of beer and a stack of medium pizzas, I set off on my mission quest.

I tried he-manning the load and carrying it with outstretched arm but there was a difference between this awkward bulk and the reps I would do at the fitness center. I eventually settled on grabbing the handle on one side arced around my shoulder rotator cuff and continued on. During the day as opposed to a rainy night, there were fewer guys under the bridge overpass than the previous rainy weekend. As Leo recognized me their air of caution passed, and their casual manner resumed. “Hey Mike, back for more? More importantly did you go by and get some PEP for those toxic loads”? “Well yes” I answered and then realized that answered both questions. “I appreciate what you did when I was feeling really low and thought I would bring a little something” and started pulling out pizza and the beer. Leo looked at me. “Plenty of Marines come back for more, but few are this thoughtful”. His humor was reflected in his chuckle and infectious mood. As we consumed the Pizza and beer, we did some catching up on the last week. When Leo asked me if I had thrown away my PEP bottle as he had predicted as likely - I honestly realized I had forgotten today’s dose as well as yesterday’s and told him so. “Mike, it was kind to bring the Pizza and Beer. We’ll eat your slices and drink your beer. We may be homeless but were not whores. If you want us to cut a slice of your ass and mouth, all you needed to do was smile and ask”. As he saw my expression change Leo said “Don’t sweat it kid, just fucking with ya. However, answer me this: Is your goal to explore your sexual appetites or is it to get Pozzed”? When I did not return a quick answer, Leo added “if you are chasing for chasing’s sake, when you get Pozzed it is sort of anticlimactical. If you pick up HIV from the best sex you have ever experienced, well that is a risk every young gay lad takes preventive steps or not. What are your goals? I need an answer”. “I suppose the Poz and the sex” I replied. “Alright, if we are going to do this, I’ll give you what you are asking for along with what you need but only if you promise me you’ll stay with me all day, do what I say, and not flake out, agreed?” I nodded and said “Yes Sir”. “OK, come over here” and he led me into a patch of scrub trees and bushes in this little island of urban jungle. “Drop your shorts and step out of them. Bend over and grab that sapling”. Leo ran a hand down my crack and probed my hole with a finger. He sniffed and asked why are you here begging for cock with a dirty hole? I stammered with an excuse such as ‘I forgot’ but Leo said. “Never mind, remember your promise. Here is a demonstration of douching in the field and stuck his semihard head in my hole which even after the week of exercise was still sore. I felt a warm wet feeling – Leo was pissing up my ass! I started to turn but he was holding my hips reminding me of my promise. I was revolted but thrilled at the same time. As Leo finished, he pointed to a culvert with a storm drain slot and said “expel it there”. And return to your position. Leo walked away, but shortly afterwards, Devon, the BBC from my deflowering came into the open space. “Leo said you want me to piss up your ass”. I just hung my head and pushed my ass out. I was getting desperate. “OK you asked for it” and pushed an inch or so of his semi-hard cock into my ass and let loose. This stream was stronger, and my sore ass was reacting in a slutty way trying to slide further down his ebony pole, but Devon told me to hold still. The stream stopped and I expelled the result at the culvert then returned to my position. Devon spit and I felt his 10 inch cock battering in past the inch it had previously held. My ass was wet but not slick. The breaching was both agonizing and exciting. Previously, there had been plenty of loads to lubricate the way. This time, it was pure traction just like when Andy used a condom on me Thursday night. With some grunting and pushing, he eventually hilted and then started to reverse. I had been clenching my jaw trying not to scream out. Devon’s cockhead wiggled past my joy button, and I moaned while my cock inflated and twitched. The itch was being scratched and empty spot in my hole was being filled - I was complete. Devon started picking up the pace, his toxic pre was providing some lubrication I also smelled a faint coppery smell, and I wondered if I was bleeding again. Regardless of how lubed I was, he picked up the pace and started angling his cock to batter my prostate driving me crazy with lust. Without warning, my ass clenched, and I shot a rope of cum into the dirt at my feet. The burning friction was finally being softened by Devon’s cum as he shot volleys into my ass chute.

Leon appeared and placed my B-Bag flat on the dirt of the tiny clearing and said “Flat on your Back, and grab your ankles” Devons cock was still stiff but I pulled off to comply and Devon got on his knees and reinserted his hardening tool. “Round 2” devon said and started hammering away. At this angle, his cock pounded my button mercilessly causing a steady ooze of pre to come out of my piss slit. A really old guy joined us, knelt and took out his teeth and started sucking on my sensitive cockhead despite my objections. He had a pot belly and spots on his skin which was stretched across tendons and bones. His uncut cock was impressively veined just like the rest of him. Did this guy have AIDS? I shuddered and Devon unloaded his second load in me. As Devon left, the new guy moved into position. Devon had been able to reach new depths when I changed to this position. This new guy also went deep from the first stroke. As he thrust away, his thrusts became more spasmatic and his panting grew labored. He leaned in and kissed me and to my amazement and disgust I started Frenching him back. He put his mouth beside my ear and licked. He whispered there is more to being Poz than a test result. And he groaned as his cock twitched in my hole. “Take my Full Blown Viral Load you beautiful boy”. As he came down from his cum, my legs and arms were tired from being bent into a U for multiple loads. As he disengaged and crawled up to push his death stick in my mouth, Leo was pressing my legs back up and entering my hole. He asked “Marine, do you keep your promises?” “Yes!” I shouted. “Good, because you never want a pissed off Marine that has you in such a vulnerable position”. Leo continued and spunked in my ass which by this time after the AIDS Skeleton had finished trying to get a rise from my cock had given up and stepped back to enjoy the show. My ass was a fluid mess. My cock which had been so hard at the start of this just a short time ago was holding on like a butterfly in a gale force wind. Leo came and left, replaced by other cocks. Some of these were people I did not recognize which would be understandable due to the darkness and circumstances the last time I was here. I lost count of the number of loads, but distinctly remembered at least 11 new people. Some of whom also stayed for a second round. I wondered if Leo was pulling random people off of the street to fuck me? This had to have lasted for hours but time was slippery. I looked at my watch which said 14:30, the succession of cocks ended. My T shirt had been used as a cum rag. I had choked a few times on large cocks but could not recall any panic moments, I put on my running shorts over my cummy ass and genitals pulling my board shorts over that. “Next Item on the agenda” Leo said, “Hope you are not too sore for a walk. Leave your B-Bag, it is fine where it is”. And we went off walking at an angle away from the Marine Barracks and Navy Yard area towards the DC Armory and RFK Stadium. I was carrying my shirt hoping it would dry out some. When we had walked almost a mile, I stopped in my tracks guessing our destination but could not fathom a reason why we were going towards Congressional Cemetery. Leo stopped and just looked at me. He said, “does your word mean so little to you”? He scoffed and turned continuing on. I considered walking away but eventually followed Leo through the gates.  Leo’s stern demeanor was replaced by a tour guide/Docent personality. Those columns to our left are where the famous DC Madam and her sister are buried. She ran a whorehouse on what is now the Capitol Mall and serviced the sinners and pious politicians with equal vigor. We walked down the main drag and turned right at the Chapel. This was the old Parish Church and down here on the left is the famous Marine John Phillip Sousa who is supposed to have said that he can’t march if he can’t hear the boys in the band. I don’t know about that one, but he did say: ..” Dance as though no one is watching. Love as though you've never been hurt. Sing as though no one can hear you. Live as though heaven is on earth”.. This was the reason I had been hesitant to come here, I knew of this place because the Roadies would set up got the Marine Band here when they would do periodic in-Cemetery performances.

Leo continued “I know why you do not want to enter a cemetery. Everyone has their demons, but you’re tilting at imaginary windmills. To fear a thing, is to give that thing power over you. There is power here, but it is not what you think. He motioned to walk back past the chapel. As we approached an intersection Leo continued. “There are plenty of Gays and Lesbians buried here as well as the rest of the LGBTQ+ community.

There is no one father of the Gay Rights Movement, but several are right here on this corner. Leonard Matlovitch selected his memorial with care and selected the position to give a last fuck you to the government bureaucrats that made his life of service along with his fellow gay service members a living hell”. I looked and read his stone: “When I was in the Military, they gave me a medal for Killing Two Men and a discharge for loving one”.. Look up and few headstones and you will see the headstone of Clyde Tolson, man bro and constant man companion of J. Edgar Hoover who is a few more plots up this row. The pivot girl of the FBI has a fence around his plot - ostensibly to keep people from pooping on his grave. If you ask me, it would be a waste of poop. That small headstone is for one of the other fathers of the Gay Rights movement. PFC Kameny served in WWII. All in all, over 35 people have been buried here in the gay corner to reinforce the message that gay is good message.

Leo spoke again “Across the path is the joint plot of Barbara Gittings and Kay Lahausen. Barbara was instrumental in getting the American Psychiatric Association to remove the criterion of homosexuality as being a mental disease or condition.

Some of the people buried here died from AIDS or medical conditions arising from early HIV treatments and medications.

I have been in your shoes, not willing to end it myself but otherwise living a self-destructive life. The object lesson here is that having a positive impact has nothing to do with any particular bug you might pick up. More young men have taken that advice and benefited from it than have ignored it. I would like to add you to my win Talley, but the choice is yours”.

I walked back with Leo in silence leaking cum from my ass. Leo continued. “Some people I know plan out their poz bugchase and it is a beautiful thing, but once they catch it, they have to change gears and find a new goal. If however they work on exploring sex and/or relationships, mix in a little spice, and always push their limits there is always a new goal and a new motivation. These gays live positively regardless of HIV status”. That choice is yours. Thanks for enduring an uncomfortable walk, and an uncomfortable topic. What do you think”? I was silent for a bit, then asked Leo “do you think the guys can get another round of loads into my ass”? Which made Leo laugh. “That’s the Spirit! Gung Ho”.

We went back to the group and I continued on into the bushes and lay back on my kit bag enjoying the last of the sun on my body. I would have kicked off my running shoes but I was so tired I thought I might have trouble getting them on again. There was a rustle in the brush and the AIDS skeleton came though. Hi Mike, I’m Doug, we met earlier in a biblical sense. I heard Leo introduced you to some of my friends at the Congressional. He knelt and straddled my chest, his cock on my lips, I hummed a uhhuh and opened for him and suckled. Doug’s voice was gentle and soft. “Leo says you are expanding your horizons as well as your hole. Would you like to explore more”? I bobbed my head yes. He rose, reversed and lowered his ass on my mouth. I was surprised and excited. My excitement grew as he leaned forward into a 69 position. His ass flexed and his cuntlips – (they could not have been confused with a rosebud anymore blossomed a bit). I sniffed and explored with my tongue, then pressed deeper. Doug started sucking harder I felt my legs being lifted from behind then held by Doug. Without seeing my other lover, as soon as his cock touched my asslips I knew it was Devon. I sealed my lips around Doug’s ring and started sucking the cum out of his hole. Doug shuddered and moaned, Yes baby, suck that toxic load out and make it your own. He gave a yip of delight as I started humming while rimming, running the edge of my tongue around the ruffled edges of his cunt lips. My senses were heady, the musk intoxicating, something inside my head was screaming in horror and revulsion, but for now, I was a cat lapping cream out of a cup. Devon said “looks like we got a new piggy, Oink”. Doug sucked harder pulling the dregs out of my balls and Devon shot his load as my ass involuntarily clenched. The train of cocks continued and I became dark. Lights came on pointed at the overpass and a bullhorn announced this area was being cleared and trespassers were subject to arrest. As soon as Doug rose up, Devons cock was gone from my ass. My heart skipped a beat, I experienced an adrenaline burst grabbed my PT shorts and jumped through the bushes opposite the activity. I scratched the hell out of my pecker, thighs and ass. I suppose I am lucky that I did not catch my nutsack on a post or stake. I was on the other side of the culvert, fell, rolled, jumped up and kept running. A block away I realized I was buck naked except for my runners and thanked god that I had not lost the shorts. I stopped, put on the shorts, and started a jog back to the sally gate. I thought my heart was going to jump out of my ribcage.

..Not the end..