Lenny March: Marine

Tattooed Marine Gunnery Sergeant, Advanced Recon Instructor, Lenny March adjusts his workout gloves before his last light set of bench presses. The slow sweet burn of the final set of the hemorrhaging meat inside his pectorals flows through his entire body, projecting him into the realm of fantasy for which he prepares himself daily. Each straining effort in the slow repetitions of the lifting and the lowering of the bar feeds Lenny’s secret, larger, grander self. Lenny protects his inmost self from the world by a mask of such convincing reality not even his wife does anything more than dare to suspect her husband, a life which reveals, in its machismo, Lenny’s discipline, his fortitude, and his perseverance.

Lenny March lives discipline. His days explode with the seeming monotonous regularity which appears as boredom at a cursory glance. He rises at 0400 HRS. He exercises. He showers. He prepares his uniform. He eats breakfast sometimes at home, sometimes in the chow hall. He trains himself as he trains his men. Gunny March. Gunny March doesn’t take any shit. Gunny March reads every situation instantaneously. More than anything, Gunny March knows what to do and when and how to do it.

The clang of the barbell finding its home in the welded steel bracket of the workout bench signals the end of the day’s workout and the beginning of the Memorial Day weekend and the “Run” to the Vietnam Memorial in D.C. With the precision of a military operation, Lenny has laid out his leathers, which now await his attention. As his arms fall away from the barbell, and the stinging pain of shredded flesh shutters and wracks his body, Lenny slides forward and sits up. He consumes the burn, the warmth, and the heat. He unclasps the gloves and brings them to his nose while he inhales slowly and deeply before laying them onto an adjacent table. The musky sweat stained gloves are his reminder of his discipline and ritual.

Lenny stands and flexes his torso in the mirror as he tweaks his nipples, all the while staring intently at the rippling body staring back at him. He leans into his abdomen, now contracted and etched, taut and tense.

He imagines himself in his road leathers with his SS riding helmet humming along the interstate, surrounded by fellow bikers. The deep burn of his chest, back, and arms slides into his groin, pulsing his sex into a relaxed semi fullness. Safe with himself, he gazes as his manhood fills and grows. His eyes dart all over his body as he turns and studies his anatomy from different angles. Rock hard. Agile. Lean.

The shower flows over him, cleansing him, exciting him, giving him freedom. He dries himself slowly, deliberately, moving the cotton pile between each toe, over his foot and up his leg. The other toes, foot and leg. His center - loose, relaxed, flexible, and benign. The towel moves over his chest, under his arms, his back, his shoulders, neck, and tightly cropped, almost boot camp close hair. His small, neat and graying moustache stands out clearly on his razor smooth skin.

He splashes on a skosh of a fine aftershave lotion his wife had given him last Christmas.

He takes one last lingering look at himself in the workout mirror before beginning the ritual of suiting up in his leathers. He recites Mushashi’s Ten Rules to himself.

“Hey, Pop!” yells Lenny’s son Brad.

“In here,” Lenny replies. Naked before his son in a more relaxed state, Lenny notices what every man sees as his son grows from a child into a youth… the beauty, the vulnerability, an unawareness of the complexity of existence… also, the competition for survival implicit in all human behavior. Lenny’s strength, Lenny’s hardness, and Lenny’s development are no substitute for the freshness of youth he sees in his son.

As Lenny snaps the olive drab band of his boxer shorts about his textbook midsection, Brad mutters his request. Brad seeks permission to spend the night over at Bro’s and, yes, Bro’s parents are going to be there the whole time and they aren’t going out anywhere.

“How good a friends are you and Bro?”

“We just hang together. He’s gotta new game. Death Raid 4000. It’s split screen synch action. Mom said to ask you.”

“Your mom gave me a flash drive she found in a jacket pocket she was going to wash. I checked it out… and it had quite a few .jpgs and videos of sexual activity… pretty heavy duty stuff…hetero and homo… Whatta you say to that?”

“Bro got through to some unprotected sites as an experiment… “

“So you downloaded a mess of porn….”

“Well, yeah… that’s about it, Dad.”

“Are you two jacking off together while you’re looking at those videos?

Brad stiffened. His eyes fell immediately to the floor. His head drooped. Lenny didn’t demand Brad’s eyes as he spoke, continuing to dress himself.

“It won’t be the first time since the dawn of mankind that two boys played with one another. There’s nothing much to that, one way or the other. But the activity over time, if you go there, can become an addiction. You have no idea about the power of sexual impulses and sexual interaction. We’ll have that discussion when I get back from the Run. In the meantime, keep your dick in your pants when you’re around Bro, ya hear me?. You know who you are, and you know I love you. You’re growing up and experimenting with new things, taboo things… if there weren’t something to them, they wouldn’t be taboo. You can hang with Bro but listen to me.”

“Oh, yeah, Pop. It’s not like it’s anything or anything. You know.”

“I hear you, son.” Lenny finishes zipping up the inside thighs of his chaps. The chrome and black leather belt clicks together, joined by a chromed and glistening Marine Corps emblem on the buckle. Lenny stands up. He opens his arms. His son steps forward into his father’s embrace, both hugging one another with the trust of love.

“Have a good trip, Dad.”

Later, Lenny, moments away from placing his helmet on his head, ties down his saddle bags and makes his final inspection. Marine is written all over the Harley. The gold and red and black emblems on the coffin tank sparkle beneath 20 coats of hand rubbed lacquer.

As his right leg swings into position, and he seats himself snugly into his bike; his thighs quiver sending a jolt through his groin. Lenny snaps the kickstand into place. He presses the starter, and the engine, newly rebuilt and primed, jumps into existence, alive and ready. Lenny engages the first gear deliberately to give an easy squeal to the takeoff as he glides evenly down the driveway and into the street. Lenny honks at his wife and son as he settles himself back into the adventure of the weekend.

Lenny’s first mission is to rendezvous with his fellow bikers, active duty and retired Marines. The initial group he’s meeting at a local 7/11 contains Juarez and the Kid. Juarez is a Latino giant with huge intimidating muscles. The Kid is a lean, rangy 150 pound dripping wet PFC. The three have decided to ride together and meet the others at a large truck stop just over the Virginia state line off I-95.

As the Welcome to Virginia sign slides by the group of three, Lenny is riding point man. His leather vest has caught the residue of the road and the random rocks from the caravans of eighteen wheelers. His mirrors reflect two of his riding buddies… guys he sees only at the motor pool hobby shop or runs into at a bar out in town. In his left mirror he sees the built like a brick shithouse Juarez whose shoulders that would rival those of Atlas in holding up the world. In his right mirror the newcomer, the Kid, fresh as a babe, about 19, lean and solid, not tall, but impressive.

With an ease of movement born of unity, the three bikers glide with imperceptible visibility around the perimeter of Eddy’s truck stop, taking in the vast complex of aging buildings covered with the varnish of diesel fuel and calculated neglect. Everything trades hands at Eddy’s… licit and illicit. Laws of civilized behavior suspend themselves within the vast fenced in arena of business and human activity everyone knows as simply Eddy’s. Labyrinthine, mysterious, brutal, circumstantial… all these apply to Eddy’s.

The sea of bikes is awash with patriotism… flags, emblems, medals, awards, ribbons… adorn every Hog. Beyond this vision of man and machine lie the semi’s. Names of drivers in gold leaf, rigs’ nicknames in flip flop tape, and the ubiquitous Confederate flag ring out from the big boys on the lot.

The restaurant that had been added in the fifties has one small neon sign lighted in the window: BEER. Recreating the atmosphere of service clubs on every Marine Base all over the world and the bars from Okinawa to Kuwait, Eddy’s has become the hive, the hill, the hub of activity.

With the engines quiet, the three dismount and stretch, removing their helmets. Without even thinking, Lenny catches the Kid’s eye. “Jackson, stay here while we check things out.” A nod confirms his obedience. Lenny and Juarez take off for the showers and the trucker’s head behind the restaurant. A series of twisting turns lead to the murky world of uncertain behavior.

Lenny’s still leathered hand hits the metal door. The corroded hinges slice the dead, yet palpitating silence as Lenny surveys the scene: To his right, a series of four wash basins and mirrors with cold water taps. Ahead of him, a door that leads into the corridor to the showers. To his left, are two stalls and the two urinals. Taking off his gloves, Lenny walks straight to the urinal against the farthest wall, separated from the one Juarez takes. A large fist size glory hole exists between the two urinals. An even larger hole exists between Juarez’ urinal and the first stall, now occupied by a construction worker taking a long break in the afternoon beginning his Memorial Day weekend.

The construction worker is pulling on his lengthy and semi-hard piece of meat. Juarez drops his uncut manhood onto his balls and lets the piss flow like a river over the edge of a waterfall, creating foam as it churns the bottom of the bowl. Juarez breaks his knees to let the last of his piss drop into the urinal. With his head lowered and a direct look through the hole, he sees hard muscular arms, tattooed with barbed wire. The tight bare chested body gives way to a hand slowly stroking his now total erection, dark purple head, plumped out veins, and pink satin-like skin.

Juarez stands up. His dick grows while he’s taking a step backwards so Barbed Wire can see his growing erection emerging from his worn and faded denims. The dark skinned cockhead emerges slowly from its protective cover. The shaft grows and thickens.

Lenny drops the last of his piss into the receptacle. He takes his dick in his hand and squeezes it ever so gently. Juarez has assumed the demonstrative position. Juarez’ dick jumps when Wire places his well-tanned and calloused fingers on the edge of the glory hole. Wire turns up his palm and extends his hand and opens it. Juarez faces him but doesn’t give it to him. Lenny steps back beyond the partition and exposes himself to Juarez. All three men’s dicks are engorged, loaded with desire and freedom.

Juarez looks Lenny in the eyes, then down to Lenny’s rock hard dick. Lenny looks with equal strength in return. Juarez moves forward and places his dick in Wire’s hand.

Immediately, Wire eases himself off the commode and is onto his knees while his hand caresses Juarez with ardor. Wire now reaches out with both hands. One hand is fondling Juarez’ balls… the other continuing the pulling and stroking magic on the dick.

Lenny steps forward. Juarez moves closer to the wall. The hand that pets the rich black hair on Juarez’ balls moves to enwrap Lenny’s cock with its intensity. Juarez raises his right hand and places it on Lenny’s chest, squeezing Lenny’s left pec. Wire tightens his grip on Lenny, squeezing and releasing, tugging, pulling, teasing.

Wire whispers close to the hole… “I want to suck ‘em.”

With that uttered, Wire pulls Juarez to the hole. Lenny watches as Wire squeezes Juarez’ dick while licking and sucking on the head. Lenny absorbs the intensity of the moment. His cock is sweetly tight, rock hard, and eager. When Juarez gives into the impulse, he pushes his cock through the hole and places his body next to the wall so Wire can deep throat him.

Lenny cautiously pulls open Wire’s stall door and steps closely to Wire. Lenny observes a bushy sun bleached blond carpenter with steel like muscles. When Wire releases Juarez’ dick from his mouth to indicate his wanting to jack on Lenny, Lenny sees a face in its early-twenties, square features, deep set eyes, and despite the blond hair, a row of fiercely black eyebrows and eyelashes. At first Wire jacks on Lenny while he continues to jack and suck on Juarez.

Later, Wire works Juarez’ dick with his hands and the deep throat saliva that is vaginal in its lubricative qualities. Juarez lets out a low moan as Wire works the head. Wire looks up into Lenny’s eyes before touching the head with his tongue. Lenny leans forward to pull on Wire’s dick, glistening with the pre-cum that began flowing the moment his lips touched Juarez’ cock, while Wire sucks him

Lenny gently takes the silvery fluid between his fingers and begins to cover the entire cockhead, while wrapping more fingers around Wire’s cock. Wire moans and sucks harder on Lenny’s dick.

Wire trades his mouth for his hand on Juarez and jacks him easily as he is well lubed. Lenny has teased the hard, almost purple glans while Wire is taking deeper and deeper thrusts down his throat. Lenny enjoys Wire focusing on the rim of his glans while his tongue brushes the bundle of pleasure under the head.

Juarez has a new feeling with Wire’s hand squeezing him and jacking him. In one of those moments of unexpected sensations, Juarez’s nuts tighten as he spits out, “I’m cumming.” Wire immediately turns to Juarez and digests the thunderous juices from deep within a man whose ancestors built empires and whose physique embodies sex. Wire doesn’t forget Lenny and works him as he deep throats Juarez whose body is jerking to the continued stimulation.

When Juarez ceases to spasm, taking his dick out of Wire’s mouth and slinging the residue on the floor, Lenny suggests that Juarez get the Kid and let him in on the action. The key is three knocks.

Wire can’t believe his luck. Three hot Marine bikers. Although the third is still up for grabs. What a day for Wire. He’s been hiding his true desires from his work crew for months. He’s been lonely and tired of masturbating.

Lenny isn’t letting Wire get him too close to cumming. Wire’s youthful enthusiasm adds to the willingness and acceptance of Lenny’s dick. Lenny, in the silence between them, instructs Wire. “I want you to grab my dick at the base and squeeze. Hold the dick like that until the head is rock hard. OK. Now just start slowly licking the head and the shaft to your hand. Up and down.” Wire complies while he jacks his own dick, slick with pre-cum as he explores Lenny’s hard, vein extended shaft and silky smooth glans. Wire flicks his tongue underneath the head. Lenny jerks. The magic is there. Rock hard lean carpenter sucks tough as nails Marine in a sleezy truck stop on a Memorial Day weekend.

Three knocks on the door. Wire and Lenny don’t miss a beat. The Kid makes his way to the action, his dick getting hard in his jeans. Lenny sees the package expanding. Lenny had read Kid correctly.

“I need to take a leak.”

“By all means. Then show us something we’ll enjoy seeing.”

Wire is torn between Gunny’s huge hard dick and what the Kid is about to reveal. Wire is feeling all sorts of fantasy circuits blowing up inside his head. The Kid steps in front of the nearby urinal, unbuttons, and pulls out his dick and splashes the aged and tainted ceramic with a healthy gush. Wire keeps his mouth on Lenny’s dick but cuts his eyes toward the Kid.

Lenny speaks, “Give our friend here a real close up look. In fact, lower your leathers and give us a full look at your gift to humanity.” The Kid opens his coverings and pushes them down to mid-thigh.

“Yo, Bro. I know you want to get into some of that. So be content to wrap you hand around it. After that blockbuster explosion from Juarez, I’m getting pretty close myself. Why not forget the Kid and yourself? Free up my cock, suck it and jack it and the Kid can see me cum all over your face. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Wire nods while he accedes to Lenny’s request. Wire softens his grip on Lenny’s cock and with the not quite so big, hard head, Wire is able to take a good two thirds of Lenny into his mouth, feeling the head pushing against that wall of resistance at the back of his throat. Wire slowly dances with his mouth over Lenny’s head, feeling with this fingers the growing stiffness that prefigures a soon to be ejaculation.

“That’s right. I’m getting close. I know you want me in your mouth, but I want the Kid to see me cum all over your face and then watch you bring the cum into your mouth.”

“Put your lips over my pee hole while I jack. I can pull back at the right moment so the Kid can see everything.”

Lenny pulls back, reinserts, pulls back, feels his pelvic muscles twitch, jacks a bit more. “Here it cums.” Lenny backs up about ten inches from Wire’s face and shoots three rapid explosions all over Wire’s face. As Lenny’s breathing shallows out with Wire sitting before him like a statue, the Kid leans down and licks some of Gunny’s sperm off Wire’s face.

Lick me clean, and I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll wait outside and if anyone looks like they’re headed in this direction, I’ll enter and give you plenty of time to straighten up. Lenny smiles to himself as he buckles up, knowing that the Kid and Wire will be having a good time together.

Moments later, Lenny is hanging around the rigs and keeping an eye on any possible activity that would interrupt the boys.

After both young men share the Gunny’s sperm, Wire turns to the Kid. “It’s been pretty intense in here. I don’t know. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment, and, boy, do I want to give that sausage of yours as much as I can. So I’ve got a question? What are you doing this weekend?”

“We are heading up to D.C. for the Vietnam ceremonies.”

“What do you say to coming by my place and hanging out?”

Not expecting activity coming out of the shower toilet area, Gunny is and isn’t surprised as the Kid is followed not too far behind by Wire. Gunny stands his post as the Kid passes by. “I’ll find you in D.C. tomorrow, sometime.”

“Sure, Kid.”

Other works by Buck Jones:

Marine Stories

Gay Joins the Corps

Marines Various Encounters

Young Marine and Gramps