Jacking-off was on my mind. Trying to think about something else wasn't working, as my body persistently reminded me that pressures were building. My nipples hardened as they chafed against the rough material of my army fatigues, sending tiny currents of pleasure down to my crotch with every movement. My balls were responding to those messages with pleasures of their own, heaving and tingling, feeling heavy and full, pressing up against my constricted cock, which was swelling in the tight uniform, causing even more distraction. The cockhead was being scratched and tickled by pubic hair as it snaked out of accordion folds of skin, seeking my attention. Jacking-off remained on my mind.
It was late at night. I was alone. In the week and a half I had been stuck on guard duty, while awaiting reassignment, I had been visited by the sergeant-of-the-guard every night at the same time, early in the shift. He seemed as bored and distracted about his job as I did about mine. I wondered why the Army even bothered to guard this deserted old warehouse I was in, and I figured it must have puzzled him, too. He didn't make two visits in the same night, so it had occurred to me that jacking-off within an hour of his visit would probably be safe enough. It seemed unlikely he'd return at all during the shift and improbable he'd return within the first hour. This reasoning lead me to ease into a routine of jacking-off every night soon after his visit.
At 18, once my body got into the rhythm of shooting a load every night at a certain time, it wanted to keep doing it each night at that same time, it seemed, and it let me know it. When the sergeant-of-the-guard said "So long" and turned his back to leave, my cock would seem to say, "Good! Let's do it! Skin 'er back!" and to start swelling while I'd watch the sergeant's muscular buttocks shift in his form-fitted uniform as he headed for the door. As I'd listen for the sound of his vehicle to fade into the distance, I'd be thinking about jacking-off. Enjoying those enveloping sensations of pleasure that overtake you as you realize you're going to begin a pressure free, unhurried, lengthy jack-off session, which always leads to the sustained, body-wrenching, cum-flying, hearty orgasm which meat-that-loves-to-be-beat produces with such delightful consistency.
There was a huge section of mirror, forgotten over the years, standing on the floor of the old warehouse, leaning against a wall, near the door. One of the two workable light fixtures in the old building was almost directly above the mirror, and a stool was standing a few feet in front of it. As I played with myself, pinching a nipple through my shirt, sliding a hand down into my crotch, getting more and more aroused, I watched my reflection. Projected by the old mirror in the soft light, the image was easily imagined to be another man - a jack-off buddy.
I settled lightly on the edge of the stool, in profile to the mirror, facing the door, a position I preferred in order to keep an eye out for any intrusion. Stretching back, tensing my buttocks, I saw the fullness of my crotch bulging in anticipation. I popped the buttons of my fatigue shirt, admiring the smooth, bare skin of my chest in the pale light. I undid my belt and slowly opened my fly, one button at a time. My cock was so stimulated that, relieved from the confinement of the cloth, it sprang through the fly of my boxer shorts and straightened itself out quickly, standing tall. It began to throb as I watched, filling out to its maximum.
I lifted my hips and let my pants slide down my thighs. Then, I slipped a hand under the waistband of my shorts, worked my hard-on back in through the fly, and slid my shorts over the erection and down. My shirt fell open revealing my erect nipples, now almost electrically responsive to my touch. I pulled my balls and rubbed my scrotum, fluffed my cockhair and skinned back my cock. I was ready to jack-off.
"Umm, that looks good," I muttered to the image in the mirror. The cock looked almost too large even for my well-developed body. It stood solid out of the fist before a flat stomach. I watched the fist begin to stroke it with a slow, constant, rhythmic beat. Up and down, up and down, up and down. "Ooh, that feels good," I muttered aloud.
Tugging on my balls with one hand, the other flailing up and down the swollen shaft, I increased the tempo of the jack-off in my growing excitement. I watched my chest heaving to a more rapid rate of breathing, and I blew out a loud "Whew!" as I enjoyed the heightened pleasures of such serious meat beating.
"I'd better slow up," I said aloud, talking to myself and to the mirror's reflection, "I'll shoot off too fast. That's it. Ease up. Beat that meat nice and slow, man. That's it. Umm, that feels good!" My husky voice echoed in the vast darkness of the old warehouse as I watched the mirror image slow the rate of pumping on the large cock. I looked down at it. Viscous fluid oozed from the enlarged slit in the shiny, taut-skinned cockhead, which, itself, appeared so completely expanded by final stages of arousal that it fascinated me. "Look at that! I won't be able to hold back much longer. This fucker wants to pump out a load." The beat increased dramatically. "Yeah. Beat it! That's it! Pound it! Yeah!"
A glance at the mirror image showed a hot scene. Tight buns just resting on the stool; arched back showing in front of the fatigue shirt which draped loosely from the shoulders; expanded chest with large, hard nipples; flat smooth stomach tightly stretched, etched with wiry cockhair; and well-handled meat being firmly manipulated to nearing climax, balls tight against the cockbase, hard thighs tensed. It looked great.
"Uhh..., Uhh..., Uhh... Beat that meat! Yeah! Beat that meat! You're ready to blast, man. Shoot that load!" My low voice urged me to climax. I felt a tightening of tissues, sphincters, muscles, and a tingling of skin. I sucked in my breath, squeezed my buttocks, pounded my fist down the iron-stiff shaft into my balls, and watched the cockslit spit out an initial spurt of white-hot semen. The sperm arched high above me and fell to land just under my chin. "Uhhh!" Another shot sailed over my body. "Uhhh!" I watched a third spurt in the mirror. It arched and landed next to the first. "Uhhh!" Another long rope of sperm shot out, and immediately, several sharp spasms of pleasure tensed my entire frame as more and more semen shot out in shorter and shorter spurts. "Wow," I sighed slowly, completely enjoying the intensity of the orgasm.
I stretched, reducing the pressure on my cock and helping the residual seepage ooze from the cockhead. "That's great!" I sighed and absently wiped at the sperm with an idle finger, wondering if I should lap some up.
Suddenly, movement at the door's window caught my attention. I had heard no vehicle. I couldn't immediately tell what caused the movement, but, naked from nipple to knee, grabbing my pants by the belt, I bounded the few steps to the door, throwing it open. There stood the sergeant-of-the-guard, not ready to arrest me for licentious behavior, but in the final throws of an orgasm himself! His pants were down at his feet, his shirt recklessly thrown open! In the light of the doorway two or three spurting cum shots got clearly illuminated as he continued coming, his muscular fist tight, and not moving, on his huge, spewing cock.
"Oh, shit!" he exploded, breathlessly, between grunts, "Uhhh... I didn't want you... Uhhh... to see me."
"You! You were watching me!" I sputtered, trying to sound annoyed, stating the obvious, but feeling a gut-wrenching wave of desire overwhelm me as I stared in fascination at the sexy scene. I dropped my belt and felt my pants slide down to my feet. He gave a feeble grin and a shrug as if to say, "Of course."
I looked around, hurriedly, and said, "Well, fuck, I guess you'd better get inside here. What if someone sees us?" I stepped aside and he hobbled into the dim light of the silent warehouse, his pants still at his feet. He was milking the thick cock. The back of his hand glistened with spent cum. I continued to stare, entranced by his casual attitude. It dawned on me that he had gotten off watching me jack off, just like I had gotten off watching me jack off.
I looked down at my cock because his gaze was fixed on it. It was aimed downward at a point between the two of us, but looked almost fully engorged. A string of thick, gooey semen, one or two inches long, hung from the reddened cockhead like a pendant, swaying with the movement of my body as I backed away and closed the door. He was staring at it longingly, a look of hunger in his eyes.
"Uhm..." I tried to think of something to say.
"Look at that," he said in a hushed voice, staring at the dangling sperm. He glanced fleetingly into my eyes, then back at it. "It's going to fall to the floor." He looked up into my face again. He smiled. "What a waste."
"You want it, man?" My question was filled with surprise, which he seemed to take as a put-down. He looked forlorn. I shifted my hips, carefully so as not to dislodge the semen, offering my cock. "Take it," I said huskily. He didn't need a second offer. He dropped to his knees in a flash. His tongue slid out and got under the length of cum. He looked up at me as he brought his tongue into contact with it. Slowly he raised his head, letting it pool on his tongue until the tongue touched the tip of my cock. Instinctively, my cock throbbed at the hot touch, lifting itself and bouncing against his nose. He obviously relished the semen as he rolled it around his mouth. He swallowed and then kissed the head of my rising cock. He put his hot fist on the slowly standing shaft and drew it down, aiming the cockhead at his mouth. His tongue came out and bathed it with worshipful, caressing strokes, moistening it entirely, lapping under the flanges of the glans. He cleaned off all residual semen with scratchy laps of his rough tongue. He kissed the tip again, and suddenly, unexpectedly, sucked in the entire cockhead and applied fantastic pressures with his fiery mouth and talented, lashing tongue.
"Geez!" I hissed as the pleasure of the suck hit my whole being. My body surged towards him, urgent to get more cock into his excitingly loving mouth. But he backed away and plopped my cock out an audible pop. He looked up at me and sighed, "Man!" He smiled. "You are great! I've been watching you every night. This is terrific!"
"Every night?!" I was astonished, but at that same moment I became aware of how extremely handsome he looked down there beneath my erection. He wore a sheepish grin, making him look both innocent and experienced at the same time, and admitted, "Yeah. I've been beating off with you every night since the second night."
"Yeah. I know." He smiled. "The first night, I jacked off by myself just watching you walk around."
"You did? Wow!"
"Yeah. You really turn me on." He was looking up at me, his hand slowly playing with my reinvigorated erection. "I never though I'd get a chance to touch this great cock, man."
"Why didn't you say something to me once you realized I was jacking off every night?"
"No, no. I couldn't do that. I wouldn't know how you'd react. That'd be too risky."
"But you saw me watching myself in the mirror as I jacked-off. Didn't you suspect..."
"That don't mean nothin'," he interrupted. "Most guys like to watch themselves jack off. That's normal. I even watched you lick up some of your own jism, but it still doesn't mean you want me to do THIS!" To demonstrate, he plunged his mouth down over my cockhead and sucked again with great skill.
"Oh! That feels great!" I sighed loudly, pushing my hips forward.
Again, to my growing frustration, he popped my cock out of his mouth noisily. "You like that, don't you." It wasn't really a question. More to himself than to me, he said, "I wish they all would."
"What do you mean? All?" I was puzzled.
"Oh, shit! Well, what the fuck, I might as well tell you. This ain't really a legitimate guard duty station."
"It AIN'T!" I was dumbfounded.
"Naw. A couple of us sergeants discovered we could put guys out here and watch. Believe me, every one of them, just like you, jacks-off in front of that mirror." He waved a hand absently in the direction of the big mirror but didn't break eye contact with me.
"Uh-uh. It's true. It seems when you give a horny guy this kind of out-of-the-way place, set a stool in front of the mirror, and let nature take its course, invariably he ends up beating his meat and watching himself do it. The lighting is just right. We're able to observe from several spots without being seen. This is the only time anyone's been 'caught'. But, maybe I should tell you that we select exclusively the most likely candidates."
"What do you mean? 'The most likely'?"
"Well, you know. Healthy, well-developed, good-looking, horny guys like yourself. There's always a fine selection in the barracks' showers, and we choose only the best." He paused and smiled.
"And you jack off with them? As you watch?"
"Oh, sure. Of course. That's the point. That's the best part, isn't it? And after all, what's the harm? Everyone must pull guard duty for a few weeks or a month or two, while awaiting reassignment, so we assign some of them to guard this old warehouse nobody knows about. Just us. They get used to the routine; notice the mirror, the stool. They like to jack off. It's healthy. So they decide they will. You jacked off during the second night. That's a record. Typically, it's the fourth night. We like to watch and jack off, too. Oh, I'd rather do THIS..." He lifted up to reach my now throbbing, erect cock and he slurped the cockhead into his mouth. Electric sensations surged throughout my being. He was a great cocksucker. But, again he stopped. "...but I seldom get the chance and it's too dangerous, generally. Although, once, I watched a guy suck himself off. That was something to see. So the next night I stayed here and talked with him and let one thing lead to another. Before you knew it, we were BOTH doing THIS..."
This time, as his mouth covered my cockhead, I firmly put my hand on the top of his head and pushed down, forcing cock into him. He struggled, weakly, and began accepting more cock. The talking had made me hot, and the cocksucking had ignited a flame. I may have had an orgasm just minutes before, but I was already raring to go again. I humped my hips and worked with him, slowly easing more and more cock in. He was good. He didn't gag or struggle. His head bobbed slowly on the thick shaft until he was smoothly riding over eighty percent of its length, taking it deeply into his throat.
"Ooh, that feels great!" I made a hearty jab. "Fuck, that feels terrific!"
At the top of his upward bob, he popped the cock out again. It was driving me mad. "I don't want you to come too fast," he explained quickly. "I want to enjoy this for as long as I can. And have you enjoy it, too."
"Then it's a good thing we both just shot a quick load," I volunteered.
"Yeah, sure is. The second one's always more pleasurable." He smiled up at me. I liked him. He was treating me as an equal. Rank made no difference. He seemed genuinely friendly and it put me at ease.
"What will YOU do for the second one?" I asked with an innocent smile.
"What? Oh. Well, I'll give myself a few whacks as I'm bringing you off. That's all it'll take. Look," he said, leaning back to let me look down between us, "I'm as stiff and as ready as you are, and I haven't even touched myself, yet. You get me hot as hell." A dark red, giant-sized erection gave me a one-eyed leer as it throbbed below my own saliva-slicked, pulsating cock.
"That looks good enough to eat!" I said, quietly, staring intently at the large cock. It's a line someone had used on me once. It came in handy and I liked using it. His mouth dropped open in surprise. "You mean you..." He didn't finish the sentence as he looked into my eyes. "Holy cow!"
He stood up, pulling on my erection as an aid to rising. It was a struggle because his pants were still down around his feet and hindered movement. But when he was standing he puffed out his chest, pulled in his flat stomach, shifted his hips and gave me a closer view of his fantastic erection. It rivaled mine in size and looked as eager, standing there pulsating to his heartbeat. He was offering it to me. Not pushing it at me, lewdly, but letting me admire it, just waiting to see what I'd like to do with it.
My hand reached out and fingertips touched the smooth skin of the throbbing shaft. I enclosed the cock like it was my own, caressed and pulled on the skin, and started a slow beat on the meat. He responded with a pleased groan and a thrust of hips, letting me know he liked my touch. I leaned down, smelling the heady aroma of this intensely masculine, well-muscled body. Sperm was the overwhelming odor I recognized. The smell made me light-headed. I leaned further.
"Suck It!" he whispered, hoarsely, overcome with desire and excitement.
I didn't need to be ordered. Without hesitation my mouth moved down to the large cockhead and opened to its hot, smooth meat. My tongue lashed at it, encircling it and testing its tastes and textures. I could taste his cum. It set me aflame. With all the skill I could muster, I sucked and pulled, bobbed and pushed, not pausing until the entire cock was in to the hilt, my nose plunged into stiff cockhair, my forehead pressed against his firm, muscular abdomen. It was fantastic! The cockhead had penetrated deeply into my throat, yet I handled the intrusive member without discomfort. I moved onto a higher plane of enjoyment and sucked cock for all I was worth.
He became very vocal, urging me on with a flair for obscenities; telling me how much he loved the way I was sucking; how great his cock looked going into my mouth; how he enjoyed the thrill of my tight throat; how he never expected that I'd be such a willing cocksucker. It excited me to hear his sexy commentary as I bobbed effortlessly on the magnificent organ.
"Wait a minute," he said suddenly. "Let's get over by the mirror so we can watch as we suck each other off." That seemed like a great idea. We broke apart, grabbed our pants and moved the few steps to station ourselves in front of the mirror. As we moved I had a chance to look at him more objectively and I discovered things about him that I hadn't taken notice of before. He was much better looking than I had realized, was about my age, a little shorter, but not much, and very much more muscular, with excellent definition. He was obviously an active bodybuilder, which became even more evident when he took off his shirt.
"Here, let's take off your shirt," he said. He helped me remove mine. Then he squatted down and said, reaching for my pant's leg, "Let's get these off, too. What do you say?" He pulled the fatigue pants off over my boots, one leg at a time, the way two people can do it, even though it's so impossible to get pants off over your own boots by yourself. Then I helped him take off his pants.
We both faced the mirror and looked at ourselves in the soft light. Our spit-shined cocks were standing erect above big nut sacs. My own mirror image had been enough to excite me when I jacked off, but seeing the two of us together, fully aroused, took my breath away. He must have had a similar reaction. For a moment, we just stared. Then, without comment, we both started to jack off. The scene burned itself into my memory. Two soldiers, naked but for their boots, standing hip to hip, jacking off, balls bouncing, getting off on each other. I would have been perfectly content to bring myself to climax watching the two of us in the mirror as we jacked off. I sensed he would have, too.
"Wow," he sighed quietly after a while, "what a sight! I don't want to stop, but, shit, I want to suck your cock, man. I want to get it back into my hot mouth. Let me do it!" Keeping up a steady beat on his cock, he turned to me, squatted down, and sucked the head of my cock into his mouth, all in a smooth motion.
I was watching in the mirror, fascinated by the scene, while I kept a matching beat on my cock, unconsciously, until my fist bumped his chin, so captivated was I by his movements in the mirror. I saw him turn my hips towards himself, so we could both glance into the mirror and watch him as he sucked my cock. It seemed a delightfully depraved and completely wicked scene, yet produced prodigious excitement for both of us. The suction became more enthusiastic as he watched himself sucking cock. The devilishly lurid scene quickly brought me to the brink of lust. The sudden thought of watching MYSELF in the mirror sucking HIS cock carried me over. "I'm gonna come," I cautioned. His reaction was to tighten his grip on my ass, to suction more vigorously, and to moan.
"Here... it... IS..." I grunted. I soared into an extraordinary orgasm. The sensations produced by his sucking, hungry mouth almost knocked me out. Vision blurred, my heart seemed to stop, my breath was sucked in, and I humped a lusty deposit of semen into him with such bucking and pumping I thought I'd fall over. I gasped for breath, yet, all the time, watched our reflection in the mirror as my cock fucked deeply into his handsome face and my balls banged up against his square jaw. He took it all without a whimper, watching the action, maintaining the suction until, finally, I had to beg to be released, the sensations, particularly on my cockhead, becoming too overwhelming.
"Man!" he said again, earnestly, as he stood up. He looked me in the eye and smiled. "That was unforgettable. The best I've ever had! It was so good, that I want to give you my best." He shifted his hips. His solid erection didn't quiver, it was so strained to excitement, but it did beckon.
Even after two orgasms, the sight of his cock acted on me like an aphrodisiac. Lust powered me to slip down his muscular frame, sniffing at the masculine odors, opening my salivating mouth to accept his brute weapon, the huge cock. My lips slid over the smooth, hot cockhead as I felt his hand on the top of my head urging my on. I worked up and down the length of the shaft until a rhythm was developed between us and I could sense that he was fucking my mouth as I was sucking him into me. It was a wonderful feeling of both submission and power.
Suddenly, it occurred to me that I could look at myself in the mirror! I twisted my head a bit and saw the two naked figures in their army boots. It was breathtaking. He was standing, profiled in the mirror, legs apart, knees bend slightly, one hand on my head, his hips pumping. His cock was plunging into and out of my wide-stretched mouth, his low-slung balls swaying and bumping against my chin. I had never before seen myself, nor even fully imagined myself, in such an amazingly lewd, delightfully compromising position. A classic crouched cocksucker! I looked great! The sight of the large cock fucking my eager mouth was amazing.
As I watched, my cock regained its stiffness. I took it firmly with a free hand and began jacking-off again. The renewed vigor of my cock caused a redoubling of my skilled cocksucking and I felt my body flow into a unification of efforts, sucking cock in the same rhythm as pumping cock. He whispered, "That's it, man!" Our eyes met in the mirror. The two of us were in sync, sucking, fucking, pumping. "Beat that meat!" he commanded. "Suck that cock!" he urged. "That's it. That's it. Suck that cock! Ooh, look at that! What a sight!" It really turned us both on. It didn't seem to matter that I'd just had two orgasms in a row, or that he'd just come, too. My body lifted its efforts and I could feel a third orgasm developing. The cock in my mouth was becoming even more completely rigid and I sensed he was getting ready to shoot a load. His body stiffened.
"Suck it! Yeah. Suck it!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "Beat that meat! Pound that fucker! Jack it off! Oh, Yeah. That's it! That looks great! Suck my cock! Oh, man. Oooh! That's got it! I'm going to COME! Suck it! Yeah. Here... it... comes...." The words accentuated spasmodic jabs as he fucked hard cock into me and started spurting hot semen down my throat. Great gushes of sperm filled me. I swallowed. He bucked and pumped more into me. The taste was fantastic. I sailed into orgasm with my eyes open, watching his jerking body fuck my mouth; feeling the jism filling me; tasting the salty-sweet sperm; enjoying the feel of my firm grip on my own exploding cock; and seeing shot after shot of cum spurt out of my cockhead and fly between his legs in an arc to splatter onto the floor behind him. It was a memorable orgasm. Being fucked in the mouth, cum filling my throat, my hand pumping cock and my jizz flooding out, while watching it all happen in a mirror image, was terrific! Unforgettable!
I stayed at his feet for a while, lapping at the slowly deflating penis, enjoying the aftershocks of orgasm. I watched us regaining our composure, readjusting to reality, getting ready to disengage. He slowly backed away and turned around completely, spinning before me, dancing in the mirror. He was beautiful – a handsome, masculine, confident partner. He was as sexy and stimulating as anyone I have ever known. He came over and lifted me to my feet.
"That was perfect!" he said quietly, and then he embraced me. It was a tender yet very strong embrace, body to body, pressing against me. I found myself returning the embrace with great emotion. It had been perfect, I agreed.
The guard duty lasted a total of eleven more weeks, longer than I'd ever heard of for anyone awaiting reassignment. I'm sure a few strings were pulled to make it last that long, but I sure didn't complain. Night after night, we'd watch ourselves "dance" together in front of that old mirror, finding imaginative new ways to pleasure ourselves. I came to realize that we were being watched by other sergeants who "worked" the warehouse and, in time, I came to know most of them. I'm thinking I might write down a few more of the "mirror images" of that warehouse, as they flash back into mind. I like reading about that exciting time in my life while I... Well, you figure it out.