The Drunk Colonel

It has been a very long and boring day as I sit alone, spit shined combat boots up on my desk crossed at the ankle. I’m Marine Staff Sergeant Collins in charge of this station and the eight Marines who work under me. I’m a cocky son of a bitch and stand at six feet three inches, weigh in at one hundred and ninety pounds, square jaw line, green eyes, bushy eye brows, white teeth and what some call a killer smile. I’m damned handsome and can get any woman I want, and I might add, any man I want. But it’s not women I’m interested in these days, oh, I’ve had my share of lady pussy some years back, eat it, fuck it, you know what I mean, but they tend to want to hang on and get married and have kids, you know, shit like that. I’m more of wild man on the prowl, a hunter of men, and not just any men, I’m talking high ranking officers with authority. It’s taking away that authority that drives me forward and keeps this hog between my legs hard and dripping. 

So, I’m sitting here bored to hell and back when the phone rings. It’s the wife of an Air Force Colonel, Colonel Conroy, on temporary additional duty (TAD) to New River Air Station N.C, from some Air Force Base out west. She wants me to find her husband who after having a big blow up with her stormed out of the house, and drunk to boot. I tell her to relax, I’ll find her husband and bring him home. “He will be easy to spot, thinks he’s still a rodeo cowboy”.

 When you’re an enlisted man and an MP to boot, you have to have all of your ducks in a row to stay out of trouble when you have dealings with an officer and in this case an Air Force Colonel, you have to be damned careful.

This is going to be one hell of a hunt for officer “prey” and my dick is telling me I’s ready for some action.

 “Corporal Dickinson get in here and take over the desk until I return, you’re in charge of the station”.

 “Yes Sergeant, I’m on my way, be there in two minutes, just locking up Private Black for a long night’s sleep”.

 Corporal Ryan Dickinson is your typical squared away Marine, and by the way, one hot fucker, little under six feet, blond hair and blue eyes, the boy next door type Marine, you know, the Marine Corps Poster Boy. I think he might be bisexual but I haven’t gone there yet. I’ve caught him checking out my crotch on more than one occasion. He just might be next on my list of men to tie down and fuck.

 “Corporal Dickinson, I’ll be taking the paddy wagon to the second front to hunt down some drunk Air Force Colonel, his wife is screaming down the house, you’re in charge Marine, so don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone”.

 The second front so called is a string of sleazy bars on the road leading to Camp Lejeune’s Main Gate. They’re a hangout for enlisted Marines, and the source of much of the trouble that enlisted Marines get into. I’ve broken up brawls in several of them, and hauled away my share of drunk Marines in my paddy wagon.

 I pull up and park behind the “Globe and Anchor”, a cinder block one story building, my first stop. The parking area is a gravel covered lot for six or seven vehicles. I walk to the rear door and enter. The fucking place is rock and rolling, smoke filled interior and about two dozen men in civilian clothes sitting or standing around the half circle bar. I allow my eyes to adjust to the dim interior and finally I spot him leaning over the bar. I have to chuckle to myself when I spot him. Tall and lanky is the best way to describe him. He’s wearing a western type shirt with pearl snaps open down three snaps showing off a smooth muscular chest, wrangler jeans, wide, tooled black leather belt with a large silver rodeo buckle, Dusty high heeled pointed toe black cowboy boots. I’d guess he is in his middle to late forties, the kind of hot man women throw their panties to, probably six feet tall, around one hundred and fifty or sixty pounds, a hot rugged looking cowboy for sure.

 Placing my hand on his shoulder causes him to turn around and face me. “Colonel Sir, it’s time to get you home now”. He grabs my wrists and pushes me back a step. “Get your fucking hands off of me!” he slurs then takes a swing at my head and misses.

 You have to understand that when a man, and in this case, an officer takes a swing at a military policeman he’s broken all kinds of military laws. It’s just the opening I was hoping for. I grab the hand that just took a swing at my head and twist it behind his back and cuff it, grab the other hand, pull it behind his back and cuff it.

 My dick is going wild in my camo trousers as I handle his struggling body, propelling him toward the back door.  He’s trying to resist, even in his drunken state so I use my right knee to kick him in his ass as I half drag him into the parking area and to my paddy wagon, slide the side door open and push him belly down onto the carpeted floor, grab his boots and shove him all the way inside. Get inside and close the door and lock it.

 Oh man! What a fucking hot cowboy officer I have just taken. He’s sleeping like a baby now, snoring and finally, peaceful. There is no way I’m not going to check this stud out. The first thing I do is kneel next to him, lower my face to his jeans covered ass and sniff and kneed his buttocks like I was making bread. It’s all male, musky and acrid, I can smell the sweat between in his ass crack. All I have to do now is turn him over and check out his front. He is totally unaware of what I’m up to and snoring away.

 If I thought his backside was hot, his front is even better. I can see the outline of his cock under the denim of his jeans. My hands cup his mound and move it around feeling his sleeping dick and heavy cum filled nuts. Unbuckle his rodeo buckle and pull the zipper down. I’m hit with a warm a masculine scent, piss stains on his white boxer shorts, brown pubic hair leaking through the opening.

 You have to picture this scene. Here I am a Staff Sergeant military policeman kneeling over the prone cuffed Air Force Colonel playing dress up. There is nothing stopping me so I pull his boxer shorts and jeans down to his boot tops. There laying before me is the most delicious looking Thanksgiving dinner I have ever seen, all trussed up and ready to be served. I am one hungry fucker and this looks like the first course, officer’s dick and balls. The balls fit snugly into my warm open maw as I move them around with my tongue, sucking the sweat off of both fleshy orbs. After I spit his balls out. I run my tongue up the soft under side of his limp rod up to the mushroom head. A clear drop of pre-oozing out of his piss slit, I lick it off, then take his soft member into my mouth and suck, pulling blood in to harden it. “What you doing?” He gets out then drops his head back down to the carpeted floor, and is out again.

 Nothing left to do but get my tongue between those tight globes and get a taste of this officer’s hidden treasure. I bend down, spread his cheeks and lock my lips around his anal ring and suck. His ass musk is filling my lungs, his ass juice tastes like real man. It causes a huge spurt of pre-cum to escape my cock, soaking my jock strap and mingle with the cotton mesh. He’s still out cold and snoring away unaware of what is about to happen to him. “Ah fuck!” I say to myself as I lick and suck around his tight anal ring causing it to contract winking at me. Brown wet ass hairs surround his hole, I chew some off and swallow, like I said earlier, I’m one hungry predator.

 “It’s time for the main event Sir”, I say unbuttoning my camo trousers to fish out my eight-inch torpedo and hairy balls. Man handle my hard tool and use the head to smear around the spit I just left there, force the head inside his butt ring and slowly get all the way inside of his warm body until my heavy balls are resting on the carpeted floor.

 First, I just lay on top of Colonel Conroy nuzzling his neck, licking his warm skin, tasting this man, nibbling on both ears and smelling the Old Spice he used earlier after he showered and shaved. I use my combat boots to kick his cowboy boots. The thudding sound of my combats kicking his cowboy boots is one of the most erotic sounds you can imagine, at least to me and any other boot lover.

 Slowly at first, I saw into his guts, feeling his ass channel tighten around the girth of my Marine dick, then pull almost all the way out leaving just the throbbing head inside his shit chute. This mother fucker, out like a light, is sucking my cock back into him, so I oblige and begin fucking like my life depended on it. It doesn’t take long before I begin to fire volley after volley of Marine spunk up this arrogant bastard’s insides.

 I pull my still hard cock out of his ass, use his already soiled boxers to clean up. Yank his boxers up, pull his jeans up, remove my handcuffs, turn him over, zip up and buckle his cowboy belt, and head to his house which is about twenty minutes away.

 When I arrive and park in the driveway she is standing in the door way waiting for me. Because he’s still shit faced and out of it I have to wrestle him out of my wagon, lift him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. His hard ass is next to my face and I can smell my sperm seeping out of his ass crack.

 “Thank you, Sergeant, for bringing my husband home safe and sound…would you please take him down the hall to our guest room and remove his clothes and put him to bed, if you would do that I would so appreciate it”

 “I would be my pleasure to help out Mrs. Conroy, is it the door on the left?”

 “Yes, it’s that door Sergeant, and again, thank you so much for all of your help”

 It could be my imagination, but this chick was checking out my package like she was shopping for breakfast meat. But I got him to their guest room, closed the door placed him face up on the queen size bed and went to work. First pulled his black cowboy boots off, the scent of warm leather and damp socks filled the room, and I couldn’t resist, I sunk my face down into the top of one of his boots and inhaled the intoxicating aroma of fresh male feet and warm boot leather, took a lick down the sole of both feet. And since I knew he would never miss them, I shoved both of his damp socks into my trouser pockets.

 “Come on Colonel we need to put you to bed Sir”

 He opened his eyes saying nothing and watched me unzip his jeans and pull them off along with his soiled boxer shorts, then his cowboy shirt. He smiled and closed his eyes, his ordeal was over, or so he thought.

 Howdy readers, this is my first story posted on Gay Demon. Hope you read and enjoy. Positive comments are welcome, flames will be trashed.