Part 1

Miller came strutting, naked, down the length of the barracks' aisle with a towel round his neck and a solid, massive erection swaying rigidly in front of him. The biggest, most muscular recruit in our platoon, with a linebacker's physique, he wasn't the least bit embarrassed by his early morning hard-on. In fact, he took a very real, masculine pride in displaying it, every morning, for the rest of us to admire. It's there when I wake up, so here it is, was his attitude, which made the way he flaunted the erection seem somehow normal and healthy, although none of the rest of us followed his bold example. I did suspect, though, that I wasn't the only one among us who daydreamed about doing something pleasant to hasten the deflation process, and I knew I wasn't the only one among us who just happened to time his trip to the showers with Miller's early morning parade.

Apparently, Miller's daily performance was becoming legendary, or at least notorious. On several occasions, recruits in camp proved curious about him when they learned I was in his company, asking wistfully if it were true that he walks around with an exposed hard-on. And, once, I saw a captain looking in from the front steps just at the moment Miller was completing his daily swagger to the latrine. Normally, officers were never seen before roll-call. Of course, Miller's giant cock was something to go out of one's way to look in on.

On this particular morning, Miller was running behind schedule. I'd been ready but pretended to be looking for something in my foot-locker until he neared my position. I closed the locker and backed into his path. He didn't notice me until it was too late. His rock-hard cock was the first part of him to bump into me as we collided and the feel of it thrusting up against my rib cage, just above my hip, followed by its length pressing into me and then his hairy ball-sac thudding against my exposed hip through the gap in my towel, was an experience I'll never forget. We were relatively the same height, so the fact that his erection poked me in the ribs gives some indication of its awesome size.

"Oof!" he said, startled, reaching out and grabbing my towel-wrapped waist for support. "Ugh!" I sputtered, aware that my arm had dropped and my wrist was trapped between his erection and his muscular abdomen. He tried to straighten up without knocking us both off our feet but as he did so my towel came away in his hand. At the same time, trying to keep my balance, I found my hand sliding round his substantial protuberance, which offered a convenient, if erotic, safety handle, so I grabbed on.

There we were, then, in the middle of the barracks, buck naked, him with my only covering in his hand and me with his hard-on in mine. He gave me a startled look but had the presence of mind to drop the towel directly over my hand, thereby shielding the connection from view. With our balance recovered, he gave me a quick up and down glance and then muttered, quietly, under his breath, "Take your hand back or I'll break it off."

"OH! Of course," I exclaimed in apparent surprise, but with an equally quiet voice. "I didn't realize where it..." I held on for another two heartbeats, then sort of let my hand relax and slide downward, off the great organ and across those hairy balls, leaving my towel tented in front of his stomach. Success, I thought, with delight. My hand tingled. My little scheme had worked far better than I had dared to hope and he didn't seem to be all that suspicious of my intent. "Sorry, Miller," I said with as deep a voice as I could muster. "Didn't mean to be so clumsy. It won't happen again." We all called one another by our last names.

"See that it doesn't," he hissed in seeming annoyance, "'cause if it does, it'll be your asshole that feels my rod, next time, not your hand."

"Ooooh! Promises, promises," I minced. Then I laughed, loudly. He chuckled and then began laughing with me. The crisis was over. I plucked my towel from its resting place over his meat and quickly wrapped it around my waist, hoping to cover myself before he noticed the reactions taking place in my groin. I observed, though, with some amazement, that his tool was vibrating with more than its usual alertness and that a drop of liquid was forming at the tip of the giant crown. "We better get goin'," he grunted, grabbing my elbow and shuffling me along towards the latrine, "can't afford to be late this morning."

Looking around, we both realized we'd been alone in this part of the barracks and no one had witnessed the incident, so suddenly Miller relaxed, letting go of my arm. As we went into the busy latrine together, Miller casually pulled his towel from his neck and held it in front of himself. We both stepped to the shower room entrance and I took off my towel. He leaned towards a peg to hang his towel just as I bent over to put my shaving kit down on a bench in front of him and, for the second time in minutes, I got poked in the ribs by the head of his hot cock, this time by accident. I felt a sticky wetness at the spot as he drew back. It felt great.

Since we were now in a very public place, he didn't acknowledge the contact, but turned abruptly and went into the showers. I followed, trying vainly to control my rising passions and expanding dick. There were only four fellow recruits left in the showers when we came in. These four were usually in the showers when Miller and I were in them. One of them, Brady, excitedly asked Miller, "D'ja hear what happened last night?" His voice was a conspiratorial whisper.

Miller had started to shower, his big dick beginning to relax, pointing more outward than upward. "Naw, what happened?" he asked. I had taken the shower between them. Brady moved right next to me, out of his shower spray, soaping up his crotch with a great flurry of activity.

"Johnson got caught on guard duty last night...," he reported, pausing for effect, "...beating his meat!" He chuckled quietly and tried to look scandalized. His soaping hands appeared to have ideas of their own. Johnson bunked upstairs, so I didn't know him very well.

"No shit," Miller said with a laugh. His erection waved up and down with his laughter, enticingly to those of us who wanted to stare. He thought for a moment and said, "I seen that kid in the showers. He don't look like he has much meat to beat." Although that brought a chuckle from most of us, I wondered why Miller would be checking out the size of Johnson's meat.

"No, no," Brady went on excitedly, "you're wrong. I overheard the DI telling someone on the phone that the Sergeant of the Guard told him Johnson had one of them there 'telescoping' pricks what get real big. Guess it was a handful." I heard an interested "Hmmmm" from someone in our group.

"You certainly have a handful of meat to beat, too, Miller," a voice whispered above the noise of the showers from across the small room. It was Perelli, a slim, dark, muscular, fellow New Yorker who looked like he knew his way around. His hands were rubbing his crotch as though he were rinsing off soap. He was showering next to another dark-haired recruit, Cruz, and they were both looking at Miller's erection.

"Yeah," Cruz agreed, sliding his hand down onto his fairly long, dangling, uncut cock, "just when do you pound that big pud of yours, anyway, Miller? It always seems to be hard." There was something about the way to two of them confronted Miller, something in their sexy stance and the way they seemed to be almost playing with themselves, that turned me on. I wondered, momentarily, if Miller would get angry, though my head started to swim when it hit me that these guys were talking openly about masturbation, one of my favorite private pastimes, but something I had rarely heard discussed.

"He tries to pound it at least once a day," the fourth and final guy in the showers with us chimed in, "just like the rest of us fuckers. And don't tell us you don't do it." It was Jensen, showering on the other side of Miller. He was my size and had handsome, Nordic features and a smooth, naturally muscular body. "We all do it," he continued, "Johnson's just the unlucky son-of-a-bitch among us who got caught."

"That's right," Miller quickly agreed, "he just got unlucky. He shouldn'ta done it on guard duty."

"Really," Cruz questioned, "when should he have done it? Now? Here?" His groping hand was toying with his cock, which appeared to have become much larger. "What's the best time and place, anyhow?"

"Here and now?" Miller questioned, apparently surprised.

"Anytime you're horny," someone muttered with conviction.

"You mean have a circle jerk?" someone else asked, giving me a real jolt.

"Like in high school?" yet a third voice asked.

"You had a circle jerk in high school?" I asked, my head spinning, not knowing who had said what. I took a few steps forward, toward the center of the warm, moist room, out of the spray of the water. I wanted to put a hand to my crotch, partly to cover my rising interest, partly to touch myself, but I put it up onto my chest instead and idly rubbed, trying to control my instincts, hoping I'd appear nonchalant, but wild with excitement. I could barely breath.

"Fuck," Miller said, stepping up next to me and grabbing his cock with an obvious intent, "everyone's had a circle jerk in high school. It's traditional, almost."

"I never did," Perelli volunteered, but he moved several steps towards us.

"I did," Cruz said. "It was great." He moved up next to Perelli, in front of me, his cock perceptibly growing. He pumped it openly, lewdly, causing me to draw in my breath sharply.

"So did I," Jensen admitted, moving around behind Miller and me to stand next to my elbow, not far from Cruz. "I liked it, too." He got close to me but was leaning in to watch as Miller pulled on his raging hard-on, which was drawing all of us like moths to a candle. I didn't wonder till much later why Jensen had moved next to me. My mind was on other things.

"What about you, Brady? You ever been in a circle jerk before?" The question was asked by Cruz. It was asked in such a way it seemed to imply that whatever Brady answered, we'd be in a circle jerk. It sounded like an invitation. Are we going to have a circle jerk, I wondered in amazement, flushing with excitement. The thought made me feel hot all over. I turned to look at Brady.

He was standing behind Jensen and me, now, somewhat hidden. He slowly moved forward, going around Miller, and I was startled but delighted to see that he was fondling a full erection. Well, not just fondling it, he was clearly pumping away on it. "Yeah," he stated with a husky voice, "I've been in several circle jerks. Thought I'd grown out of that stage, you guys, but look at us. All this talkin' got us horny. We're all set to jack off just because we heard about poor ol' Johnson beating off on guard duty. Well, I say let's throw a load for the guy. What do you say?" He was slowly moving past Miller, to stand between him and Perelli, closing the circle, shuffling in a strange, sexy dance, keeping his pelvis thrust forward and his stiff cock prominently displayed, as his hand beat a steady rhythm on it. He had an excellent, well-shaped, large penis, with a full-flanged, bulbous cockhead half again the diameter of the thick shaft, which was covered with easily sliding skin which he worked as he moved, causing his heavy ball-sac to bounce up and down as he drew the skin up and over the big cockhead and back down again. It took my breath away it was so sensual. There's no turning back now, I thought.

Miller tightened his hold on his throbbing cock and matched Brady's bold display, pumping in unison with him. They were giving themselves full, tip to base strokes, and being obvious about it. They were jacking off and wanted us to join in. Perelli and Cruz moved in closer still. They both shifted their play from fond touching to serious meat-beating, adding their agreement to the mutual masturbation with clear pleasure. Their cocks filled to full erections quickly, simultaneously. It was exciting to watch them.

Jensen's arm was brushing mine lightly as he began jacking off. It was a heady feeling. He had grown stiff quickly, too, I noticed. He said, "Guess we got ourselves a circle jerk, fellows. Now the only one who needs to join in is Jack, here, and he's obviously ready."

He surprised me by calling me by my first name, but surprised me even more so by suggesting that I was somehow ready. I looked down at myself. I was startled to see that my cock was standing tall, looking as ready for action as I'd ever seen it. Throbbing. Pulsating to the beat of my heart. Everything was happening so quickly, and I was so eager to take it all in, and to join in, that I had become erect without being fully conscious of it. My cock ached with pleasure as I wrapped my hand around it. The cockhead swelled to its skin-tight extreme, looking awesome in the dim shower lighting. I began jacking off in tune with the rest of them, my hand drawing slowly to the tip, then pushing to the base. Up and down. I shuffled forward, slightly. Jensen moved with me, getting closer to Cruz. Miller moved closer to me. The other three also moved in. We were stroking in unison. Six cocks. Six big ones. Being pumped mutually with one goal. Up and down. Faster now. Up and down. Then, faster still. Up and down, up and down.

"Beat that meat," a voice demanded in a husky whisper,"Beat that meat!"

"Yes!" someone hissed through clenched teeth.

"Wow, I'm almost there," someone whispered. We all moved as one, getting even closer together. I was struck by the realization that the six of us were each using the very same jack-off technique. A simple one - grabbing hold and pumping away. Miller had the biggest cock; Cruz the most foreskin; Jensen was the best looking, overall; Brady had the biggest set of balls; Perelli the sexiest body, but then I suddenly realized that I myself stacked up against these five most favorably. It was a thought that made me feel sensational.

"This is fantastic," I whispered excitedly, "I can't hold back, I'm about to shoot." I was trying to relax, but there was no prolonging the impact the circle jerk was having on me. Unexpectedly, Perelli shot a wad of cum right at my chest, exclaiming, "This is for Johnson!" It landed on me with a noisy splat. Its touch put me over the brink instantly, and I came. A bolt of semen jetted out of my incredibly sensitive cockhead and flew across the tight circle to splat onto Perelli's neck, right under his chin.

"Christ, look at that! For Johnson!" Miller cried, and he began to come, too. He held his cock upright, as spurt after spurt of jism sailed towards the ceiling, rising above eye level and falling in the center of the circle, landing on Cruz' pumping fist. Jensen and Brady immediately started adding their cream to the circle, but after the first spurt or two, Jensen's load was hitting my side as though he were aiming it at me. Cruz hissed something under his breath and started spraying Miller with a heavy load of cum.

It was happening all at once. Perelli and I kept spurting juice at one another. Miller, Jensen, Brady and Cruz were coming at the same time. The interval of the first four or five heavy shots of cum from the six of us became etched in my memory like a firebrand. Never had I experienced such a wonderful feeling of, well, what was it? Acceptance? Companionship? Friendship? Male bonding? Love? Well, all of those things and something even more. It was extraordinary.

We milked down the last vestiges of our mutual orgasm, luxuriating in the moment, not wanting to break the circle, but, finally, splitting apart at the same instant as if by instinct, each man going back to his own shower and cleaning up. It was over. It had been wonderful. When I came out into the latrine to shave and get ready for roll call, I was surprised that barely ten minutes had passed - the usual shower time. No one had sensed anything amiss. No one had looked in on us. Everything appeared completely normal except that Miller's erection had subsided before he took a piss that morning. But no one else seemed to notice.

At supper that evening, I was bitching to Miller, Jensen and Brady that I had to pull barracks guard duty that night from midnight to 2am. "Barracks Guard" basically meant I had to dress and stay awake in our barracks to make sure no fires started. If there was a fire, it was the barracks guard's job to make sure everyone got out safely.

"What time was Johnson on guard when he got caught?" I asked, casually.

Miller laughed, reading my mind, and said, "It doesn't matter. Don't pull a Johnson, Jack." I couldn't understand why I was the only one everyone called by first name.

Jensen smirked and added, "Yeah, keep your telescope in your pants, man."

Miller laughed harder and said, "Yeah, and he does have a telescope, doesn't he. A big game scope. A shooter." Then he nudged Jensen, who was seated next to him, and they both laughed together like naughty little boys. Brady laughed with them. I just grinned.

"Well, did you hear what punishment he got?" I asked in frustration.

"Oh, he was lucky," Brady explained, "not even a letter in his file. He only got a verbal reprimand."

"Yeah," Jensen added with a laugh, "and a marriage proposal from the sergeant who caught him!" That really broke us up.

Jensen got serious and told me, "You'll have to wake me up, Jack. I'm scheduled for the 2am to 4am duty." We groaned and complained, falling into an unwinnable argument over which time period was the more difficult, mine or his.

At five of midnight, I was awakened by a sleepy-eyed fellow recruit who's only interest was getting to bed. I got up, pulled on my pants and shirt, carried my boots to the latrine and splashed some water in my face. I put on the boots and relieved the guard. He went off to bed immediately. Within ten minutes, I was counting every second, hoping for the time to move more quickly but knowing that it never does when you want it to. The barracks was silent but for the rhythmic, hypnotic sounds of sleeping men, and I was already finding it hard to stay awake. I had walked through the barracks quietly, and nothing was out of the ordinary.

Sometime after 1am, when it was really becoming difficult to stay awake, I suddenly saw a figure coming down the aisle towards me. A naked figure. It was Miller! Without his morning erection, I noticed. Why is he up so late? I wondered. He came right up to me, silent as a ghost, put his arm around my neck and tiptoed me towards the latrine.

"Com'on with me," he whispered, putting his mouth right against my ear. It tickled and felt like a kiss. It excited me. We went into the latrine, which was very dimly illuminated by one, weak, light bulb. As we moved into the room, I could see that Miller was getting excited, too, his pendulous weapon rapidly thickening with each step. He kept his arm around my neck, holding me close.

"What's up?" I whispered, smiling at him, enjoying the press of his naked body against me.

"This is!" he answered, taking hold of his cock and massaging it almost instantly into full erection, chortling like it was all good fun.

"Jeez!" I sighed, looking down at the massive one-eyed monster, "What're you doing?"

"Fuck," he replied, still whispering directly into my ear, "I've been so horny since you touched my cock this morning and since we jacked off together with the other guys that when you said you'd be on guard duty tonight, I planned to come in here and make it with you. Wha'da ya say? I saw how your cock responded to the circle without being touched. I know you're as interested in foolin' around as I am. Lemme just check." His fist left his cock and he groped me. I had quickly become sufficiently aroused to provide him with a considerable handful. He sighed, "UmmHmm, I thought so!" It felt incredible to have him hold me and touch me, and to look down to the witness of his obvious desire for me, his hard cock. I began to tremble with emotion.

He opened my shirt, undid my belt, opened my pants and slid them and my boxer shorts down. He took my cock in his over-sized, muscular fist and began to manipulate it, holding it tightly at the base and pulling upward, drawing more blood into the expanding tube. It got agonizingly stiff in two or three knowing pulls. I had one arm around his naked waist. The other had been hanging at my side, but I brought my hand up and hesitantly reached for Miller's throbbing member. He was looking at my cock, but when he saw the goal of my hand he shifted his hips to give me easy access. His cooperation was unexpected. He wanted me to touch him. I was amazed at this whole turn of events.

I wrapped my hand around his solid erection. "Umm," I sighed. He shuttered at the touch. "This is the second time today your hand's been on my dick," he pointed out with quiet excitement. "This time," he whispered, his lips rubbing my ear, "let's not waste the chance." He pumped his hips and caused the thick cock to slide back and forth in my clenched fist, while he duplicated the action on my cock with his fist.

"Man!" I sighed, "This is fantastic!" As he relaxed his hip pumping motion, my fist took over.

"This is great!" he whispered, then he kissed my ear and nibbled on the earlobe for a moment. It was electrical. I turned my head to look at him and he mashed his mouth into mine, kissing me passionately on the lips. I kissed him back. His tongue pushed against my lips and parted them, and then it pushed into my mouth, seeking and finding my tongue. Our tongues dueled, as the kiss became enflamed. His tongue became stiff and hard and it thrust itself against the roof of my mouth. It was in that instant I first realized the roof of my mouth was a hotbed of sensory nerve-endings directly connected to my genitals. I almost passed out with pleasure.

"You like my tongue in there, don't you," he asked knowingly as we broke the kiss. I only smiled. "Maybe," he went on, "you'd like something else in there." I kept smiling. "Ever tried to suck a cock, man?" he asked.

"No..." I lied, drawing out the word slowly, as if pondering the question. I purposely kept my voice soft and I didn't stop smiling. A harsh, quick, "No" would have ruined everything. A truthful "Yes" might have ruined everything, also. You never know. You've got to stay on your toes when playing with randy recruits.

He kissed me again, this time with an open mouth, sucking and pulling, drawing my tongue into his mouth, then pushing his tongue into my mouth and rubbing it stiffly against the roof of my mouth as if he knew exactly how it felt to me.

"Shit, you've got me so hot, man," he whispered, back at my ear. "I'd sure like it if you'd just touch my dick with your mouth. Just kiss it. You know?" He pulled back to look at my reaction.

"Well...," I replied, again drawing out the word slowly.

He looked triumphant. I hadn't said "No", as he had feared.

"Please," he asked, quietly, looking me in the face. Our hands had ceased their movements on our cocks. We were just holding them, they were so stiff and ready. We both realized we'd probably explode if we kept up the masturbation. But, in response to his pleading expression, I relaxed my grip on his cock and lightly traced its outlines, fingers fleetingly taking measure of its large size. It was a very sensual, very sexual, very arousing, almost obscene gesture. It spoke more eloquently than words that I was toying with the idea of putting my mouth to his cock. Like I was measuring it to see if it would fit. It made him believe that, while we both knew cocksucking was frowned upon, especially by the Army, I was giving serious consideration to his plea. He looked enraptured, hope written across his face. "Please," he repeated, softly.

"I guess I could just kiss it, I suppose," I whispered, with seemingly coy reluctance. He withdrew his arm from around my neck immediately, and stood back slightly, leaning his upper body away from me so that I could get to his throbbing cock. He also withdrew his hand from my cock. I wondered exactly what that meant, anticipating that it meant he wasn't about to reciprocate should I actually do something so indecent as sucking cock, but I wasn't going to let a few "what if's" get in the way of my pleasure, like "what if he doesn't reciprocate", or "what if we get caught". It didn't matter to me. What mattered was being given the opportunity to suck his magnificent organ. I wasn't about to let such a golden opportunity pass me by.

My hands grabbed hold of his hips and I slowly squatted down, studying his cock as I lowered myself. As my face got closer and closer to it, it loomed larger and larger. The tip was glistening with a drop of clear liquid. Other drops had begun to slide slowly down the undershaft of the massive organ, leaving a shiny trail across the well-flanged, helmet-shaped cockhead. The cockhead itself was extremely fat. A real mouthful, I thought. I exhaled through ovaled lips, blowing warm air onto the pulsating weapon and the weighty set of balls beneath it. He hissed with pleasure and put a heavy hand on the top of my head, not quite pulling us together, but indicating his desire.

I leaned in and kissed the very tip, getting the droplet of liquid onto my lips. It was hot and sticky. I lightly sucked at the slit in the cockhead and drew out more of the sticky fluid. The smells arising from his groin were wonderful.

"That's it! That's it, man," he encouraged softly from above. "Now kiss around the head," he instructed. I did as he asked, slowly sliding my lips around the full contours of the thick flanges, feeling the subtleties of the smooth, taut skin covering the spongy firmness of the crown. I was trying to act like this was completely new to me and it was having the effect of causing me to realize how thoroughly I was enjoying the taste and feel of his huge manmeat on my lips. I liked what I was doing.

As I lifted myself to slide my lips around to the broad front side of the cockhead, the side facing his abdomen, pushing down on the stiffly erect shaft, he added some pressure to the back of my head. Not enough to cause any discomfort, but enough to communicate to me that he'd like me to do more than just kiss it. I decided to continue acting new to all of this. I pulled back and looked up at him. He smiled down gently, a look of extreme pleasure on his face. "You're doin' just great, man." he whispered. "Why don't you try putting your tongue on it?"

"Ok," I agreed, smiling at him, "like this?" Then, while still looking up at him, I slid my tongue out, holding it broad and flat, as if ready to lick an ice-cream cone.

"Yeah," he sighed, "that's it, do that!" He pulled my head towards his cock more forcefully, now. The contact between my hot, wet tongue and his solid, moist cockhead was marvelous. My tongue was somehow more able to appreciate the delicacy of curves and subtleties of flavors of the cock than my lips. The tongue is extremely sensitive. I slid it to the left and then to the right, moistening the vee-shaped cockhead side facing me, hearing his intake of breath above me as he enjoyed the sensations, but then I lashed my tongue across the top of his meat with great energy and feeling. He gasped and shuttered. "Ooh, more," he pleaded.

The game was over. I could no longer think of ways to pretend this was something I didn't know how to do. I gave in to my lust. I drew the plump, plum-sized glans entirely into my hot mouth and sucked, swirling my tongue roughly over it. I pulled off with a "pop" and sucked it back in again. I pulled off once more and then sucked it back in again but, this time, forced my mouth down over the giant weapon so that several inches penetrated. It felt terrific. I bobbed my head on the wonderful, big cock and marveled at the feelings it gave me as it scraped against the roof of my mouth. I loved it. I became unconscious of everything but his cock and my reactions to it. I sucked it. I made love to it. I tightened my lips and I bobbed my head up and down the shaft, getting more and more of its thick fullness into me, until finally, working smoothly while loving the effort, I got it into my throat down to its very base.

After sucking that wonderful cock for what seemed the longest time, I realized that I was deep-throating the massive organ like the most wanton cocksucker in town. Fuck, what will he think of me, I wondered. I eased up and pulled myself off the cock. I was aware that it was rock solid, completely engorged, but I wanted to look up at him, to check on his reactions.

His eyes were as big as saucers. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop now. I'm about to shoot a great load for you, man. Take it, please. You'll love it." His hand redoubled it efforts on the back of my head and his cock was shoved, eagerly, back into my loving mouth. I worked it now for all I was worth. Within moments, I heard him whimper, "Now, man.... Now!" I lifted my head until just the cockhead was in my mouth, continuing to suck and swirl my tongue around the responsive tissues. He pumped, hard, into me, pulling strongly with his hand on the back of my head, but I held firm and caught the first, tremendous, burst of semen in my mouth. It erupted forcefully against the roof of my mouth. I loved the taste, texture, and temperature of it. Immediately, another blast of cum filled my mouth. I swallowed. Another and another shot filled me again. I swallowed again. Another and another, filled me up. I swallowed a third time. With each shot, he bucked energetically into me, but it felt fantastic. I held his cockhead in my mouth as several weaker and weaker shots filled me a final time. I swallowed and rode that bulldick down to its base, holding it in my throat until I finally had to come up for air. I came off the cock, swallowed, and sucked it down lovingly several more times as its rigidity lessened, and then I looked up.

He dropped his hands to his sides, staggered back a few steps as if drunk, and looked at me as if he'd never seen me before. His expression was one I wish I'd been able to photograph. Awe. That's what it was. He was dumbstruck that I had just given him the best sexual experience of his young life, and one of the best blow-jobs he'd probably ever have. And he was smart enough to know it. He moved towards me, reached down with both hands, put them under my armpits and pulled me upright. Then, he wrapped his naked arms around me, under my shirt against my skin, and hugged me. A great bearhug of a hug.

"That was unbelievable!" he whispered, his mouth back in my ear. "I never expected..." His voice trailed off. "I never hoped..." He didn't know what to say. He stiffened and then asked, as if he'd suddenly thought of it, "Did you like it, too?" There was a note of disbelief in his voice, as though even if I would say I did like it, I somehow wouldn't have been able to enjoy the blow-job nearly so much as he did.

I hugged him back and answered, truthfully, "I loved it! You've got the greatest body in the world. I wish we could do this every day." I laughed softly.

"Oh, man, I wish we could, too. But..." He grew silent.

"Yeah, I know. We gotta be careful. It's a good thing the Sergeant of the Guard didn't come in a moment ago and find your big cock in my mouth." The mental picture that gave him sobered him up immediately. He stepped back.

"Oh, shit. You're right," he agreed. He looked in my eyes and avoided looking down at my crotch, which I covered by pulling my shirt closed. "Will you be... uh... You know. Alright?" he asked, gently. He took another step backward. He had liked it, sure enough, but he wasn't going to be able to bring himself to perform a similar service for me. And, like so many of us, his cathartic orgasm quashed any romantic ideas about reciprocation he might have fleetingly harbored earlier.

I looked at my watch. "Shit, it's almost 2am. I've got to wake up Jensen. You better get out of here. I'll straighten myself up. Don't worry. Go on." He smiled with relief, went to a basin, washed his crotch, hands and face, waved to me and disappeared. In the meantime, I slowly buttoned up my shirt, pulled my pants and shorts up over my diminishing erection, buttoned up, and felt content.

"Jensen," I called softly in the darkness. He was sleeping on his back in a lower bunk. "Jensen, com'on, it's time to get up for guard duty." I leaned down, over him, put a hand lightly on his chest, and shook him gently.

Suddenly, his hand grabbed my wrist firmly. "Who's there?" he asked, sleepily.

"It's me," I whispered, my face inches from his. "You've got to get up, now."

"Oh, Jack, it's you. I was just having a dream about you. Wish you hadn't woke me up, just yet. Here..." he whispered, and he moved my hand down to his abdomen. "See what I mean?" I felt his erect cock under the sheet. I could hardly believe it. "I see," I agreed, quietly. "Some dream."

"Yeah," he whispered back, "it would'da been 'wet' if you'da got here a little later..." He paused, sniffing, "Say..." He paused, again. "...I smell..." He stopped. He pushed my hand away, threw off the covers, and quickly pulled himself out of bed. He stood up next to me, his boxer shorts tented out impressively in front of him. Com'on," he insisted in a whisper, taking up his fatigues and boots in a bundle and grabbing my hand, "I wanna talk to you before you go back to bed." He dragged me back to the latrine in a hurry.

"What's up?" I asked, innocently.

"This is!" he whispered, brazenly, dumping his clothes in a heap and grabbing the lump in his shorts lewdly. Gee, I thought to myself with amusement, where've I heard that before?

"Yeah, I see that, Jensen," I said. "But what can I do about it?"

"I'm not sure," he whispered hurriedly. "Tell me exactly what it is I smell on your breath and maybe we'll be able to think of something."

I suddenly realized he'd been able to smell Miller's cum on my breath. I hadn't thought to brush my teeth before waking him up, nor had I had the time to. Everything was happening so quickly now, so soon after I had felt time was moving so slowly, it was difficult to keep focused. I was tired. Worried only for myself now, I was mortified, imagining only what would happen were Jensen to tell anyone.

"Well...," I said hesitantly, wondering just how to handle this, "...what do you think you smell?" I was trying to conceive of a way to put him off guard.

"You know damn well what I smell, Jack, don't try to fool me. What have you been doing?" His whispered voice made it difficult to judge whether he was angry, or just excited. "I can think of only two things," he added.

"Two things?" I asked, in surprise. I could only think of one.

"Yes. Two things..." he paused, thinking. "Well, three things, maybe four."

"Four? I don't believe it. What are they?"

He thought for a moment and then said, "Well, it smells like you've got sperm on your breath, so I think you've had a cock in your mouth. Is it true?"

"Geez, what are the other three things?" I asked, trying to divert his attention.

"Well," he whispered, thoughtfully, "they say, when you've been fucked in the ass, cum can be smelled on the breath later. You didn't...?"

"No, of course not," I replied, quickly, but I liked the way his mind worked. "What are the other two?"

"I guess you could have put your own cock into your mouth. It is big enough. I saw that this morning. Perhaps it wasn't someone else's." He thought about that for a moment, slowly rubbing his erection through the material of the shorts. I could see him imagining himself sucking his own cock. I tried to keep a straight face, but I felt like laughing.

"And the fourth thing?" I persisted.

"Well, it's possible you might simply have jerked-off, scooped up the jism, and tasted it."

"Did you ever taste yours?" I asked, innocently, but with an air of intrigue. "How did it taste to you?"

"Oh, it was alri..." He stopped in mid-word. "Hey, wait a minute, here. I'm the one asking the questions." He looked perplexed but his hand didn't slow its affectionate rubbing. "So tell me, which of the three was it, if it wasn't getting fucked in the ass?"

"Oh, alright," I sighed, acting like I was relenting, "I'll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else. OK?"

"Hey," he said, pulling himself up and acting superior, "I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"Well, in that case..." I paused for effect. His hand stopped in anticipation. "You guessed it. I tasted my own jism."

"Bull Shit," he said, emphatically, stressing each word.

"You don't believe me?" I whispered with raised eyebrows, wondering why he seemed so sure of himself.


"Why not?" Our whispered exchange, an attempt to be very quiet in the still barracks, again made me want to laugh.

"Because I'll tell you something, Jack, it doesn't only smell of cum, it smells of cock! There's a difference. Know what I mean?" He had a smug look on his face, as though feeling proud of himself for knowing the difference between cum smells and cum plus cock smells. As though it were a matter of some importance. It didn't occur to me, then, to wonder how he knew the difference.

"Well, there you are, then," I admitted, softly, "you've found me out. You're some detective. Got some nose, too." I shrugged at him, looking defeated.

"What do you mean? Where am I? You mean you admit you were sucking someone's cock, tonight?"He looked impressed.

"Well, no, not someone's, Jensen. My own. It got hard, and I... Well..." I gave him a gesture of helpless innocence.

He wasn't buying my act. "Prove It!" he demanded with obvious relish.


"Prove it, I said." He smirked.

"What do you mean? How can I prove it, unless..." I paused, startled.

"You got it. If you want to convince me that you're not just a promiscuous, dirty little cocksucker, you'd better take out your wanger and suck on it, now."

"But... But, I can't do that. Here. Geez, Jensen, have a heart." I gave him a look of sincere dejection.

"Ah Ha! I thought so," he exclaimed, triumphantly, but in a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you can't do it here, but you could instigate our circle jerk this morning, couldn't you? Standing out in front of us all, like that, and throwing that big hard-on. Well, I know what that proves. Don't I?" He smiled victoriously. I wanted to laugh, but kept a straight face, yet I was simply astonished, on another level, that he felt I was the one to "instigate" the circle jerk. I felt I had simply followed everyone else's lead. Life can be so crazy, sometimes.

"Sure," I was able to reply, casually, "it proves that just before I woke you up I had an orgasm while putting my cock in my mouth, caught my own jism in it, and now I can't get another hard-on for awhile. That's all it proves."

"Oh!" he muttered in surprise.His hand renewed its rubbing. Suddenly, I saw a change of expression on his face. He had thought of something. "In that case, let me smell your cock!" he demanded.

"What?" I looked at him in amazement.

"If you just sucked your cock," he explained in his deranged whisper, "I'll be able to smell your breath on it, won't I? It will smell just like your breath smells, won't it? Com'on, pull down your pants! Let me check it."

That was too much. I had to start laughing. But laughter was noisy, so I tried to stop, but trying to stop made it seem even funnier. Suddenly, Jensen grabbed me in a tight embrace, both arms around me, his erection grinding into my belly. I stopped laughing almost before I had started.

"Quiet!" he whispered, staring me in the eye. "Do you want to wake everybody up? Jesus!"

"OK, I'll be quiet," I agreed, calming down, "but, shit, don't be so determined to find out what happened tonight."

"Then something did happen, tonight. I thought so!" He gave me a smug look, but didn't relax the tight hug he held me in. I found my half-deflated erection coming back to life. Of course, he noticed it, too. It was unmistakable as it pushed its way up alongside his, separated only by our clothing. He just held me, waiting for the growth to be complete, a gentle, knowing smile on his face. His cock had become rigid. Mine followed suit.

"Want to suck it now, Jack?" he asked with a grin.

"Suck what?" I asked, stupidly.

"Your cock or mine, man. Which'll it be?"


"Well, if you can't suck your own, it'll prove what you've been doing, and you'll have to suck mine, just to keep me from telling everybody."

"That's blackmail," I said, defiantly.

"So what?"

"Well...," I hesitated, feeling trapped.

"What'll it be." A shiver of excitement went through him.

"I'll admit I can't suck my own dick. I've tried. It's long enough, alright, but my back just doesn't bend far enough."

"Yeah, I know, mine doesn't bend quite far enough either." He smiled at me.

It was my turn to be genuinely surprised. "You mean you've tried it, too?"

"Of course. It looked good enough to eat." He smiled again and I felt his erection throb between us.

"Yeah," I sighed, "I know what you mean."

"Yours does, too, Jack."


"It does," he said softly. "It looks good enough to eat."

"Wow! And all this time I thought you were mad at me for maybe having sucked cock, tonight."

"Naw. You should have known better. You weren't paying attention. How come, do you suppose, I enjoyed our circle jerk so much today, standing right next to you, spraying you with my cum. Why do you suppose I'm so hard right now. Didn't you hear me when I told you I was having a wet dream about you, Jack? Didn't you put your hand right over my hard cock?" He smiled. "I'm having a hard time getting through to you. All I'd like you to do is admit honestly to me that you like sucking cock just as much as I do. I thought, knowing I could smell it on your breath, you'd admit it." He grinned, "So tell me. I'm really curious."

"Alright, I sucked a cock tonight. Big deal."

"Wow! Whose was it?" he asked excitedly.

"Com'on, Jensen, I not going to say. You should know better."

"Yeah. Damn, why don't those things ever happen to me?"

"They do now," I replied with a glint in my eye. It was my turn for my erection to throb between us.

We grinned at one another and broke apart. He slid his shorts down, getting naked. I undressed completely. We stood looking at one another for a long moment and then embraced passionately. He kissed my neck, my cheek, and then my mouth. The taste of cum in my mouth seemed to enflame him. He slid his mouth down my neck to my chest, found a nipple and started nipping and sucking at it. In that instant, I discovered my tits were directly connected to my balls. The feelings were incredible. He crossed to the other and sent me into ecstasy.

My hands roved his smooth, hairless body. He was muscular without being big, slim without being skinny. The touch of my hands on his flesh felt wonderful, and I could sense the pleasure he was receiving from the touch. I cupped his balls, tugging on them, slid my hand onto his hot erection, tightened my grip and pulled the skin up and down, starting a masturbation.

He pulled away and said, "This has really got me hot, but, first, I want to do this..." His mouth sucked on a tit and then slowly slid downward. He sucked my flesh in a miraculous way. He licked at my navel while I felt his cheek against my straining erection. He pushed downward, follow-ing the light hair trail to my crotch, pushing my straining cock down with his face as he moved. Then, after licking at my cockhair, he turned and began licking his way up my cock. It felt fantastic. Finally, at the head of my cock, he opened his mouth and expertly sucked in the entire glans. His tongue swirled erotically around the tender flesh as I gasped in pleasure.

"Oh, man, that feels so good," I moaned, quietly. Instinctively, I thrust my hips forward, pounding cock into him, striving to get inside his hot, moist, suctioning mouth. He was taking more and more of me inside himself. My balls thudded against his chin. Suddenly, I realized that I was being made love to by as skilled a cocksucker as I was, myself. I relaxed and gave myself over to him completely. He sensed the change in my reactions and raised his adroit art to a higher plane. We began to react to one another, sexually. He knew what pleased me. I knew how to please him. We weren't rushing to a climax, but moving, together, to mutually enjoyable heights seldom achieved. Time stood still. We became as one. Giving, not taking. Loving, not just having sex.

His hands toyed with my balls, my ass, the sensitive small of my back, reached up to massage my pecs and pinch my nipples. They were all over me. My enjoyment was total. Then, suddenly, every muscle in my body tensed. He felt it, too. He knew what was coming and was ready for it. He held my cockhead in his mouth as I soared into orgasm, spurting loving shots into him as he received them with great pleasure, swallowing with exciting pressures. I had never had so fulfilling an orgasm.

When he pulled away, I felt complete. Not drained and tired, but complete. It's hard to explain, but I knew that an even greater pleasure for me would be giving him the same level of pleasure he had just given me. He rose up above me as I lowered myself before him. We didn't say anything. It wasn't necessary. We both knew what we were doing and what we wanted.

As I looked up at him, seeing his large cock quivering in front of me, I felt that he really was the best looking person I'd ever met. His body was perfect. Now it gleamed with a beauty that stopped my heart. I made love to him. I lapped at his balls, taking each one into my mouth, tenderly, and fondling them with my tongue. I took in his entire cock, down to the root, and exchanged with him a memorable, wonderful experience. It was more than sex. But sex was the basis. And it was great sex. Every fiber of my being strove to make him feel great. In the end, he grabbed a handful of my hair and almost called out, pumping cock into me without restraint as jet after jet of cum burst out of him into my throat. It was remarkable. What can I say?

I stayed up with him until his guard duty was over at 4am. I fell asleep the instant my head hit my pillow, just after saying to myself, "My God, I'm happy. I'm in love!" But I dreamt about Brady's big balls, and Cruz' long foreskin, and Perilli's sexy body showering mine with cum, and about circles of spurting cocks, and I woke up in the morning with a terrific hard-on. I considered, for a moment, displaying it by joining up with Miller in his bold march to the latrine, but the idea was too audacious to carry off. One practicing exhibitionist amongst us randy recruits was sufficient. And anyway, I was certain the days ahead would be filled with enough adventure to satisfy the randiest of us all. Me! For now, I had to hurry to catch up with Miller. He and his flagpole had just passed my bunk heading for the showers.

Part 2

In our outfit, we recruits pulled a duty called "Barracks Guard." Other outfits call it Barracks Patrol, Fire Patrol, Fire Watch, etc., and nowadays it's even called Dorm Watch, but by whatever name it consisted of rotating two-hour guard shifts throughout the night to insure that sleeping barracks-mates would be awakened in the event of fire or other emergency. As you might imagine, for those of us fatigued by strenuous daily routine, just staying awake during those two hours was a real struggle. But for those of us who were horny, and there were a lot of us... well, that's what I want to tell you about.

Johnson got caught! The news was electrifying! Alone on barracks guard duty at about three-thirty one night, while the rest of us slept, he decided to give in to youthful temptation and jack off. Relieve the pressure. Pump out a load. I know just how he felt. I had jacked off during my shift of barracks guard duty, but I hadn't gotten caught (although, as I came to find out later, I had been observed.) Johnson, a typical teenaged recruit, was lonely and horny. He had more than a week's buildup of seminal fluids demanding attention (it was a buildup longer than any during his teen years at home when jacking off was effortlessly done several times a day, every day.) His big hardon was insistent - demanding intimacy. Jacking off was inevitable. He was simply unable to control the urge to jack off. I could understand that.

Additionally, jacking off was done almost as a defense against falling asleep, and certainly it was done as a means of relieving the boredom of the dreary nighttime duty. Anyhow, he was altogether horny from day after day of lack of any sexual outlet. So out comes the ol' wager, stiffly erect and looking great, an old friend in hand, the pants slide down a bit in order to play with balls, and a leisurely, extremely satisfying jackoff commences.

But it was Johnson's unlucky night. The Sergeant of the Guard decided to burst in upon him when he saw Johnson sitting on the stairs to the second floor, leaning way back, his shirt open and his pants down below his knees, fisting a big one. Rumor had it that if the sergeant had seen him standing up while jacking off he might have wickedly watched but would not have interrupted. The point is that you were simply not allowed to sit down on guard duty: it's too easy to fall asleep that way. So the complaint, it turned out, was more focused on the fact that he was sitting on the stairs than that he was jacking off.

It caused a stir of excitement, but nothing really came of it. I was told that his defense was along the lines of believing himself to be unobserved and private, and had not been told someone might come around to check up on him. And, he obviously had not been sleeping on the job. No one had said he must be in any one specific location during the duty, so long as he was in an open part of the barracks where he would be able to detect smoke easily, so no harm had been done. The powers that be decided to drop the case. But one of the lectures we were subsequently given as a group was by a chaplain who said, basically, "Tsk. Tsk. Soldiers should not masturbate." Most of us chuckled quietly.

We had been in basic training long enough both to become accustomed to the routine and to discover that our interest in sex was being revitalized after the initial shock of military service. It was this revitalization we all found so stimulating, for, while talking about Johnson's misfortune, it had led six of us into a circle jerk, the first I had joined in on in the Army, which took place in the showers the morning we learned about Johnson's trouble.

The second evening after we heard about Johnson's problem, the six of us were still talking it over during supper. The discussion had barely gotten started when Miller, the most assertive, carefree, and, frankly, well-hung of our lot, spotted Johnson holding his supper tray as he hesitantly looked around for a place to sit, as if embarrassed to sit near anyone who might have been offended by his notorious conduct.

"Over here," Miller called out, raising a hand over his head and motioning to Johnson, who looked absolutely startled but meekly came over to join our group. Miller shoved himself down the bench, away from me, and Johnson crawled in between us. The poor guy looked like he really needed some cheering up.

"How're ya doin'?" Miller asked, as if to an old friend. I knew Miller had never spoken to Johnson before. For one thing, Johnson bunked with the guys on the second floor of the barracks, while we all bunked on the first floor, and right away the segregation had made for divisions and cliques.

"Some of the guys are giving me a lot of ribbin'," he muttered dolefully, as if expecting the same thing from us.

"Well, no one at this here table's gonna give ya any shit about being caught jackin' off, man. That's for sure. We all like jackin' off much too much, and we all do it all too often, to go ribbin' anyone else about it. Ain't that right, you guys." It was said as a blunt statement of fact, not as a question, and we all nodded our agreement.

For the first time, the tension seemed to ease from Johnson. He looked around at us. "You do?" was all he could ask.

Perelli, a lithe, darkly handsome, hard-bodied, fellow New Yorker sitting across from me, said, "Damn right!"

Astonished, Johnson turned to me. I was a squad leader and had already gained a reputation for being a rather military-minded soldier. He seemed surprised. "You, too, Jack?" he asked.

"My balls get to aching, too, man. Just like yours," I answered honestly.

"Geez," he sighed.

"We've been talkin' about looking out for one another," Jensen interjected. He was a blond Nordic type with a naturally muscular build and a cock one dreams about. He was sitting next to me and, in fact, rarely left my side when all of us were together.

Johnson looked intrigued.

Brady, who has the biggest set of balls I've ever seen, was sitting across from Johnson, next to Perelli, and explained, "We feel it's unfair to put a guy on barracks guard detail without some protection. We've decided among ourselves to share the detail so we can watch each other's back. One guy can leisurely jack off, while the other keeps a lookout for the Sergeant of the Guard. And then vice versa. Whadda ya think?"

"Man, that's a terrific idea!" Johnson said enthusiastically, "Can I join in, too."

"Of course you can..." Miller said effusively. Johnson beamed. "...but," Miller continued, "we think you'd better take it easy the next couple of times you pull guard duty. We're certain that they'll be keeping a careful eye on you. Know what I mean?"

Johnson nodded knowingly, looking dejected.

"Hey, that don't mean we won't act as lookouts for you when you gotta jack off, man," Miller added happily. "You can do it on one of our shifts. I only mean you gotta be real careful on your own shift, that's all."

"Wow!" Johnson sighed. "This is wonderful. I was worried I'd be rejected by the whole barracks 'cause I was caught."

"Fuck, man," Cruz muttered, a sexy glint in his dark eyes, "us meat-beaters gotta stick together." He was sitting next to Perelli, with whom he had become inseparable.

We all nodded, grinning. Johnson beamed with pleasure. And can you believe it? That very night he got caught again! Let me tell you what I was told about how it happened. But first...

The circle jerk had been phenomenally exciting for all six of us but I think none of us really expected it to occur again. It had developed because we had started talking about Johnson being caught jacking off. So here we were, the very next morning, talking about Johnson being caught, again! That's all it took. We six, Miller, Perelli, Cruz, Brady, Jensen and myself, found ourselves alone, the last ones showering, talking excitedly, but in low voices, about poor ol' Johnson's big one being beat.

Miller, who rose every morning with a hardon which he was unembarrassed about and did nothing to conceal, displaying it for anyone who cared to look, simply faced the center of the room and began beating his huge meat. I turned around to rinse off with my back to my showerhead, and discovered what he was doing and saw that the four others were staring at his fisting and getting hard, too. That did it for me! I got an instant erection! It happened so fast that it amazed me as I looked down at myself.

Saying nothing, as if of one mind, we six moved into a tight, sexy circle, getting in even closer than the first time, and began jacking off. Seriously jacking off. For me, it was even more terrifically stimulating than the first time because I now knew exactly what to expect and could relax and thoroughly enjoy openly looking at these sexy bodies and these incredible hard-ons. We all looked magnificent, with huge cocks being pumped energetically but with effortlessness that comes from lots of practice. To stand among the five of them, beating my meat, was extremely arousing. Overwhelmingly sensual! The idea of this carnal acceptance by the group was, in itself, gut-wrenchingly exciting. Only once was the group silence broken, when Perelli, who had a very sexy trim body, whispered huskily in his New York accent, "Lookit all dis meat bein' beat!"

Jensen, his muscular frame covered with a sheen of arousal, was on my left, and Miller, with his oversized, giant cock, was on my right. Cruz, with the only uncircumcised dick among us, and Perelli had become a pair within the circle and were standing next to Miller, while Brady, his huge balls jumping, was pumping away boldly between Cruz and Jensen.

We were all so close together that I don't think anyone else realized what was happening when Miller slid his free hand onto my butt, grabbing it roughly, strongly. I hissed with pleasure, rose up onto the balls of my feet, jutting my groin out into the center of the circle, and immediately launched a long, high-arching spurt of white viscous jism that flew up and then landed on Pirelli's muscular chest with a loud splat.

That did it! Everyone came immediately! Cum spurted everywhere, spraying everyone. This time it all landed on hard bodies; none was wasted on the floor. The wonderful smell of the hot sperm was awesome as it wafted across the tight circle, and cum splattered us all, trailing down our hot, aroused bodies. During the first circle jerk I had noticed that we each seemed to aim our erupting cocks at the guy immediately across from us, in my case at Perelli, and him at me. But this time we seemed to be shifting after each cum shot and hitting every guy in the circle, one after another like we really wanted our cum on each other.

Except for Jensen. He just wanted to spray me with his cum, again.

I was in ecstasy! Once again, it was a breath-taking experience. But, after the last quiet grunt and long spurt of cum, and while we were all still squeezing out the final oozings of great orgasms, we broke apart wordlessly and quickly went on with our bathing. We started jabbering and joking loudly as if nothing had taken place. Once again, it had gone smoothly, quickly, and, most importantly, without detection.

That morning, while the six of us were having breakfast together at the same table, Miller announced that he believed I was having the best time of all of them. It caused several arched eyebrows and quizzical expressions, including my own, when he added cryptically, "Because Jack knows how to enjoy himself." Jensen just grinned and nodded knowingly. It took awhile, but one by one, the others came to find out exactly what Miller had meant.

But back to poor ol' Johnson. It turned out that the thought of being "protected" while jacking off really energized him. He tossed and turned that night, checking with each change of guard to see who was on duty, and when he saw that Brady came on for the 0200 to 0400 shift, he waited a while for the relieved guard to fall asleep and then got up. Brady saw him coming down the stairs wearing only a pair of khaki-colored boxer shorts.

Brady told me what happened, as best he could piece it together and, later, Johnson himself filled in the details:

Brady grinned when he saw Johnson's notorious, large schlong moving around in the skivvies as he came down the stairs. Johnson grinned back and mimicked a jack off with his right fist. Brady nodded and gentlemanly gestured with both open, palm-raised hands to the latrine, and Johnson went in soundlessly.

What neither had realized was that the Sergeant of the Guard that night, a different one from the notorious night, had scoped out our barracks to search for hanky-panky, certain he'd find it because of the previous incident. He was outside, looking in, as Johnson went into the latrine.

Brady said he thought about going in with Johnson and beating off together, but Johnson had given him no indication that he'd be amenable to such an idea, so he decided not to. But, he admitted, he then made a mistake. Instead of standing there, guarding the doorway to the latrine, he decided to take a look around both floors, as he'd been instructed to be doing often during the guard duty, and went up to the second floor.

At that point, the Sergeant of the Guard quietly entered the barracks and sneaked to the entrance to the latrine where he saw Johnson standing in the center of the room.

Johnson was naked. He was watching himself in the row of mirrors above the wash basins, but couldn't see the doorway from that angle. What most of us who had looked had thought was a teeny-weenie had miraculously telescoped out to an impressively long, wide, strong erection, which he was pumping with pleasure. Feeling secure, he was in no hurry to shoot off, but a leisurely pace was impossible to maintain as he got hotter and hotter.

The sergeant had been stopped in his tracks, as it were, when he saw the size of Johnson's giant dick. He was fascinated. He, himself, started getting an erection. Quietly, he palmed the front of his uniform pants. He decided he'd watch this guy shoot his load and then confront him. But the sight of this slim, sleek-muscled, young soldier beating his really humungus meat was having a gut-level impact on him that he hadn't anticipated. This sexy soldier, performing such a timeless pantomime in front of the mirrors, was really turning the sergeant on! Lube was leaking heavily from his now fully erected organ and a stain was spreading on the material of his tan trousers up near the belt-line.

Friction always produces the desired effect and Johnson was getting down to the short strokes, now, pumping expertly, balls bouncing, when he suddenly sucked in his breath, rose up onto the balls of his feet, humped his hips forward, really profiling his cock and balls for the watcher, and stiffened in orgasm. A long string of white juice suddenly spurted up and sailed through the air to splat onto one of the mirrors.

The sergeant was amazed. The cum must have shot over six feet. His mouth dropped open as he watched the second spurt splatter the mirror just below the first. It was an even larger glob of goo. More and more jism spurted out, landing in the basin of the sink, on the rim of the sink, and then onto the floor, leaving several big puddles before Johnson was through.

The sergeant drew in his breath, straightened his back, and was just about to walk into the latrine to confront Johnson, when a voice whispered into his ear, so close that he felt puffs of air on his skin that raised the hair on his neck and scared the shit out of him. "What the fuck ya doin' here, Sarge!"

It was Brady. He'd come back down and caught a glimpse of the sergeant peeking into the latrine. He was momentarily panicked, but when he realized that the sergeant was, in fact, acting like a voyeur, he quickly figured that this misadventure might turn out to have a saving trump card. So he had cautiously slid right up close behind the sergeant.

"I... I..." the sergeant stammered, "...I just caught..."

Brady stopped him in mid-sentence by sliding his hand boldly around the sergeant's hip and grabbing a handful of stiff cock. The organ throbbed at the touch. Their two bodies were pressed closely together.

"You caught shit," Brady whispered, "but I've just caught me a pervert!"

"NO!" the sergeant said loudly.

Johnson yelped at the noise and reached down for his shorts, looking back towards the doorway as he bent down to see what was happening. He saw Brady's grinning face close behind a startled-looking sergeant, whose trouser front seemed to be in Brady's hand. He immediately saw the wet stain in the light-colored trousers. Johnson forgot about his shorts and stared in amazement, standing up and turning towards them, oblivious to his nudity and the dangling remains of semen dripping from his spent but not fully deflated cock.

Both Brady and the sergeant were staring at the dangling semen as it swayed there, hypnotizing them. Brady's hand wasn't just holding the big cock, it was massaging it. It was moving up and down the length of it, causing the stain to continue spreading.

Johnson put his hands on his hips and whispered over to them, "What the hell's goin' on?"

The sergeant tried to struggle forward, shaken from his trance by the question, but Brady encircled his chest with his other arm and held him in close. "Oh, no you don't, he whispered huskily.

"Let me go," the sergeant demanded, although he had the sense to keep his voice down at a low whisper, too.

"Naw," Brady whispered into his ear casually, "I don't think so, man. I'm having too much fuckin' fun!" And with that, he told me, he let his own erection press against the sergeant's ass. And then he applied pressure with it. When he felt the sergeant's erection throb in response, he knew he was in control.

"Please," the sergeant hissed, stretching out the word, trying to change his tactic.

Brady marched him into the latrine. He allowed himself to be moved forward, meekly.

"Caught him spying on you," he said over the sergeant's shoulder to Johnson, whose mouth dropped open. "Look at 'im," Brady continued, "he was enjoying the show!"

"No! No, I wasn't," the sergeant protested, "I was told to keep an eye on this barracks because someone was caught jacking off here the other night."

"It was me," Johnson told him. Brady heard a note of pride in the voice and grinned.

"You sure have a funny way of keeping an eye on a place," Brady pointed out. He continued frigging the sergeant through his uniform pants, and the sergeant was not insisting he stop.

"Well, com'on, boys, I wasn't gonna turn anyone in." The sergeant was trying to sound friendly.

"Our sergeant calls us Men," Brady pointed out. Johnson grinned. Brady slid his hand down to the military belt buckle and unfastened it.

"What are you doing?" the sergeant asked in a strained whisper.

Without replying, Brady opened the sergeant's fly, tugged the pants and let them fall to the floor. Immediately, he unsnapped the guy's skivvies and slid them off, too.

As the shorts slid down his legs, the sergeant said "Jesus!" at exactly the instant Johnson, who was staring at the big erection that came into view, said "Jesus!" too, although they both meant something different by it.

Brady fitted his own bulge into the cleft of the muscular ass and tightened his hold on the sergeant's body, while gripping the solid, naked erection in his fist. Lube continued oozing from the fat cockhead. Johnson's cock started back on the rise as he watched Brady fisting the big cock.

"Oh, God!" the sergeant whispered as he watched the enlargement. Brady was unbuttoning the uniform shirt. Suddenly, Johnson realized what was happening and reached out to help, unbuttoning both sleeves and helping to strip off the shirt. Then Johnson grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and lifted the garment over the sergeant's head, amazed when the sergeant lifted his arms to assist in the garment's removal.

It was that assistance which caused all three of them to realize that this would not be rape. He was older, more muscular and certainly more experienced in physical combat than to be overpowered by these two randy recruits if he didn't want to be. He could yell out, make a scene, or even start punching, and everything would have turned out much differently. But as Johnson's rod got harder and as Brady opened his own fly and fished out his own eager erection, slapping it against the sergeant's ass, the sergeant gave a sigh of submission. Johnson waggled his hardon at him and the sergeant leaned down to suck in Johnson's big dick without hesitation! It was an action, which, of course, pushed his ass up at Brady.

Brady rubbed his already leaking cockknob around the sergeant's asshole, which he found moist and inviting, twitching with anticipation. So Brady eased himself forward and slowly slipped his meat inwards. Instantly, he recognized that the sergeant was not a novice at this form of male-to-male sex, and felt welcoming pressures and tightening muscles. Brady loved it! He grabbed onto the sergeant's hips, humped home dramatically, and started giving the guy the fuck of his life.

Johnson was getting the first blowjob of his life, he later told me, and said it was "much better" than all the jacking off he had done. As both he and Brady got hotter and hotter, they stared at one another in fascinated arousal and suddenly, both came, simultaneously. The sergeant spasmed and groaned with excitement, and Johnson felt gobs of jism hitting his thighs and shins - the sergeant got off as they both came in him.

Both Johnson and Brady took a few steps back, away from the sergeant when it was over. Both wondered how he'd react. He stayed in that bent over position for a moment, and then, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, while holding his cockhead so his oozing tralings of cum wouldn't drip onto the clothes at his feet, he straightened up and immediately turned to look at the man who had just thrown such a great fuck into him.

"Geez, fellows, that was terrific!" he sighed with feeling.

Tensions were broken. Johnson grinned at him and said, "I never had my cock sucked before!"

"I loved it!" the sergeant told him.

"I never butt-fucked a guy, before, either," Brady admitted honestly.

"I really loved it!" the sergeant told him, turning back to look right at him again. He smiled and said, "I sure never expected this to happen when I came in here, tonight." He rubbed a hand over an asscheek as he said "this." Then he added seductively, "I'd like you to do this again. Often!"

Both Johnson and Brady nodded obligingly, grinning like schoolboys.

"How about immediately," Brady whispered huskily, going over to a sink and washing off his re-enlarging dick.

"Yeah," Johnson agreed, moving with Brady to wash his own dick off, grinning at them both, "but this time, let's change ends!"

"Oooh!" both Brady and the sergeant sighed in unison.


Jack Sofelot


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