Another Wild Christmas in Reno

by Robby Redds

24 Jan 2017 2758 readers Score 8.0 (18 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Introduction: Dead soldiers litter the floor

With Thanksgiving holiday in my rearview mirror, sometime before zero-dark-thirty the last Saturday morning in November, I lay cold and nude on my bed in a state of delirium and mourning. For a number of reasons I lacked any will to get out of bed and do something productive that morning: depression seemed the order of the day.

The song Cry For You played out in my head while evocative nightmares had took toll on my sanity. The more unspeakable the misery the louder the lyrics, therefore the more alcohol it took to quench the hell within.

A stale odor pervaded the air in my bedroom; a pungent mix of booze, sweat and body fluids. Dead soldiers littered the floor. A heavy heart mourned the absence of my beloved; you see, Brody Brown and I had become more than Army colleagues, in the months since my latest PCS to Fort Lewis, we’d become confidants.

After years in the Army our relationship finally blossomed into a secret sexual relationship. Whenever we found time alone away from Army life we holed up, looking forward to each other’s warm lips. Our mouth’s engulfing each other’s cockheads while our sphincter’s quivered anticipating our cock’s filling each other’s assholes. The more I bemoaned Brody the more I missed him.

My hard cock throbbed with each heartbeat, the same for my asshole. Dreaming about Brody performing oral sex and carnal knowledge on me the hornier I became. However, my vibrant dream ended as faint rays of sunlight filtered through the vertical window blinds.  

Through my blurry eyes I gazed down upon my naked body glimpsing the shadowy figure of my picturesque soldier at attention. My rock hard warrior, angry with anticipation, stood ready to erupt with the power of Mount Vesuvius.

From my point of view the glint of light revealed a droplet of precum pushing from my urethral opening. Then it began to roll over the pink dome. My stealthy fingertip moved towards the droplet snatching up a scant amount of free-flowing pre-ejaculatory fluid. I tasted the precum. Not bad, I thought.

The translucent fluid continued rolling towards the crimson coronal ring at the base of my cockhead much like a skier making a graceful run down a well-groomed ski slope unaware of an avalanche lurking above. Once again my dream about an early Christmas gift of Brody in my bed dashed, leaving me with a feeling of emptiness.

Besides my Christmas wish for Brody to be with me to celebrate Christmas, of course, a never ending supply of Wild Turkey to ease the pain in my heart and void in my life. Nevertheless, there would be no Brody lying next to me Christmas morning, caressing me with kisses of endearment while our warm bodies embraced each other.

No talented fingers flicking my hard nipples. No warm wet mouth poised to devour my hard cock or for my companion to impale his hard cock in my twitching asshole; therefore, the next best thing to conquer my emptiness, to satisfy my lust that Saturday morning—a dildo.

Uh-hu, I thought. With Brody gone nothing like a dildo to satisfy my need for something to fill my ass. I rolled up on the side of my bed, turned on the lamp, pulled open the drawer of the night stand, where I began fishing around inside the drawer for one of my realistic dildos along with anal lube.

I squeezed a liberal amount of water-based lubricant into my right hand and pulled my legs back into my chest. With my butt cheeks spread open I began rubbing lubricant onto my ass crack like peanut butter on a slice of white bread.

My fingers began smearing the super slick gel around the entrance to my asshole. Once it began to pool at the entrance I began poking the lube deeper into my brown eye, letting my fingers fully penetrate and lube my tight pucker.

After numerous digital intrusions, pushing more and more lubricant inside each time, my anal opening felt ready to accept the lifelike seven and half inch flesh-color dildo with its suction cup base.

Holding the large sex toy in my left hand I began cautiously guiding it towards my pulsating asshole, while my other hand pulled on my buttock, spreading its cleavage. I clenched my sphincter muscle pushing out anticipating a bowel movement, then let the muscle relax, expanding, allowing for the girth of the larger than average size cockhead to begin penetrating my anus.

With attentiveness to care I began working the oversize cockhead inside my anus, not wanting to inflict injury on my delicate asshole. After a few minutes playing the area, the bulbous pink cockhead unceremoniously popped inside. For some reason the burning pain felt more noticeable than times before.

I’m not sure why I continued using that particular dildo, maybe because the girth of the cockhead on the super size dildo, larger than most, reminded me of Brody’s beautiful pink member.

Upon entrance the palpable pain caused a stifled scream. I stopped pushing on the object for a few seconds letting my asshole become accustom to the oversize girth. I let the head rest just inside the chamber before continuing to push any further.

A few minutes after the pain subsided I began riding the dildo with wild abandon, and doing so fantasized about my partner fucking me. Before I knew it I’d blown a humungous load—cum everywhere.

Exhausted after the ordeal I drifted off to sleep where I began to dream once again about that special person missing from my life. There would be no partner to share Wild Turkey with, to suck me or fuck me to fruition. God the rigors of Army life sucks, it fucks up so many aspects of military life.

Suddenly, my body clock’s alarm went off, maybe the cold breeze on my ass or maybe the phone ringing. Whatever, I awoke, shaking with the oversize dildo still buried in my ass. There I lay on my queen size bed that winter morning shivering, no human next to me to keep me warm, just a cold lifeless rubber cock inside me. Oh God, I ached for that missing warmth of intimacy.

My heart pounded in my chest. I lay there sweating out the booze. I felt much like a cheap hooker at a Special Forces Association convention.

 I continued shivering, my head aching, reminding me of the previous night attempting solace and warmth in beer and bourbon, empty bottles strewn about the floor. I’d been an emotional wreck without Brody to fill the void of intimacy in my life. After Brody deployed from Fort Lewis to Afghanistan I lusted for the type sexual fulfillment we’d found together.

My mind had been encumbered by the coming holiday season. Reno began to beckon: a place to rekindle old friendships and memorialize a special person who wouldn’t be available for Christmas. I grabbed my cell to see who’d left the text message. My good friend, Nick Sanchez, St. Nick the bartender whom I’d met on my last visit to Reno. He wanted to know about my plans for the upcoming holiday season. He wanted to get together.

Almost a year after experiencing one of the most erotic trysts and unforgettable times of my life I’d began to receive comp invitations to spend the Christmas holiday season at the Peppermill in Reno, Nevada. During my last visit I’d lived the life of decadence: overeating rich foods and consuming too much Wild Turkey. I met and made new friends while reacquainting with an old friend; moreover, the visit turned into not only a fabulous fuck fest, but a financial windfall for me, therefore the hotel had not forgotten me.

Aware the huge wining streak led to the comp invitations stacking up on my kitchen table I’d been giving more and more thought to another Christmas leave in Reno, especially now with my life companion but a memory. With the text from Nick I made up my mind, if I could get leave, I would be Reno bound in a couple weeks.

More than anything else the two weeks of leave in Reno almost a year ago turned into a huge holiday fuckfest with multiple partners. Unequal to anything I’d ever experienced before or since. A time of nonstop sex for all of parties: sex at anytime with one or more partners along with fabulous dinning, gambling and entertainment events. I desperately needed those things once again in my life.

Two people I met in Reno left their mark of lust on me: Buzz and Nick. Brody, managed to meet up with us for the last half of the adventure and New Years. My old high school buddy Buzz and new friend Nick Sanchez completed our male foursome. We partied like no tomorrow. We got down on a daily basis; first one then the other, then as a threesome and foursome. I got up to shower as I continued recalling that salacious affair.

On the way to the bathroom I stumbled over one of the dead soldiers scattered across the floor. I urgently needed to clean my bedroom, my whole house for that matter. Before taking my shower I collected days of empty beer and bourbon bottles and then threw them in the trash. I striped the sullied linen from my bed, collected the dirty clothing lying around the room, and then deposited the arm full of items in the laundry basket. My humble home as well as my soul needed a thorough sanitizing.

After I dressed I began looking around my house with disgust. I asked myself, how had I allowed my once nice home to turn into such a shit hovel? Normally, my quarters embodied the discipline of a military officer. At that moment I decided to devote the entire weekend not only to doing a physical housecleaning, but some spiritual soul cleansing as well. However, before starting either of those tasks I needed to attend to administrative details.

Instead of texting I called Nick to tell him about my impending plans for Christmas and would call him on Monday or Tuesday to hopefully confirm my leave dates. Normally, we’d text every other day or so, but this time we engaged in about a half hour conversation. Before ending the conversation he tempted me even further, telling me he’d reserved the same suite from last year for the upcoming holidays.

While cleaning the house I constantly ran across reminders of Brody and our time together as well as the wild ass affair in Reno. There was a framed photo of us in our White Mess Officer Uniforms. Although we had an open relationship I began reflecting upon how things played out in Reno a year prior.

For some reason I think I’d come to enjoy my new found friendship with Nick a lot after the Peppermill vacation. If it hadn’t been for him I’d have been dead in the water after my arrival at the hotel. I began thinking about how it all started and how I met up with Nick.

Given that I had no family to spend the holiday season with after I returned from Afghanistan I’d decided to utilize one of those special military service personnel holiday offers for my post deployment leave.

The particular package, only available to service members returning from overseas combat assignments came with a caveat: I had to spend at least 14 days and at least two weekends to qualify for the package. The Christmas-New Years package turned out to be ideal for me. 

My plan to spend my full 15 days of post-deployment Army leave, Christmas Eve to New Years, at the Peppermill Resort Hotel Casino in Reno, before reporting to my new duty assignment at Fort Lewis, Washington. More like punishment than an assignment.


[The story, Another Wild Christmas in Reno, introduction and subsequent chapters are the beginnings of a rewrite for, Wild Turkey Christmas Eve in Reno, posted on Nifty from 24 December 2012 to 29 July 2012, Chapters 1 through 12 and then, Christmas in Reno, posted on GD 13 November 2013; therefore, some of the dates, events and places may not add up or make sense. The two are the same basic story; notwithstanding, over the years I have reworked the story, a work of fiction based on some true facts. Of course certain names, dates, events and places have been changed.

I must apologize for not posting the rewrite before Christmas—my bad. Read the story for entertainment purpose not as any type military thesis, political proposition or documentary. Critiques or compliments are encouraged. If you want to see more chapters let me hear from you (readers) by way of comments on GD or e-mails at: bn2rumpranger at yahoo dot com

All rights reserved. This story may not be distributed or reproduced on any other sites or publications without the express written permission from the author. This work is protected by all applicable copyright laws.]

by Robby Redds

Email: [email protected]

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