Johnson was a real redneck. I met him during my basic training in the army. As most people are aware, in these institutions surnames are only ever used and as fate would have it, my surname was Johnstone. The reason I mention this was because every three to four days, we would have to do gate duty on a rotational basis. Naturally, the alphabet always features very strongly in these environments and so there are no prizes for guessing with whom I had to pair up for the four hours long of guard duties at the entrance to our base.

Johnson was coarse and crude and had an infantile sense of humour. He was around six-foot-tall and had a wiry body. He was also bow-legged which gave him a really peculiar gait, which I found rather sexy. His lithe physique was covered by a rather sexy dusting of dark hair and his face was neither ugly nor handsome but bore the look of a mischievous hick, if that makes any sense to you.

The feature on Johnson’s body, however, which alludes to the title of this story, was the shape of his dick. It truly looked like a large carrot. From a thick base, the knob tapered to a thin non-retractable foreskin overhang that appeared to have no cock-head. It was as if Mother Nature had forgotten to place a glans at the end of his dick.

In the communal showers shortly after our arrival, one of the recruits joked, “Jesus, Johnson, if Bugs Bunny saw your dick, you’d be in big trouble.” Amid the laughter, the ‘Joker’ continued, “You should dye your pubes green, and then your cock would have the authentic look for Bugs Bunny’s favourite food.”

Convivially, Johnson laughed along as he flapped his ‘vegetable’ about, before replying that if anyone wanted to gobble on his carrot, they should feel free to do so. This now became a daily ritual in the showers, where Johnson would wave his dick about, calling out to all Bugs Bunny fans to snack on his carrot. Of course, this always got a huge laugh.

There were two other things about Johnson that bear mentioning. Firstly, he incessantly groped at his crotch while engaging you in conversation. The second tidbit of information I wish to proffer, was Johnson’s reaction to a homophobic comment that one of the other guys made one evening.

“Guy’s sucking each other’s dicks, is the most natural thing in the world, how else do we prepare for life when we finally find the women of our dreams,” he concluded with a goofy grin

Next, picking up on the disbelieving stares around him, he continued, “Homosexual behaviour happens throughout the animal kingdom. If you grew up on a farm as I did, you would understand.”

Nobody challenged or argued the point with him and that’s where the conversation ended, amid an abundance of very confused looks. My estimation of Johnson increased remarkably due to this bit of truthful pragmatism.

During our first two guard duties, nothing notable happened. I have to confess, however, that I had really begun to like Johnson. He was an affable oaf and not nearly as stupid as many would’ve believed.

On our third duty together, we got the ten o’clock to two a.m. shift. The guard house had glass windows on either side and when seated, one was only just able to observe vehicles approaching from either side.

At around twelve that night, Johnson and I went outdoors for a piss. Although we did have an indoor toilet, for some strange reason straight guys love to piss outdoors.

After I had finished peeing and as I was tucking my dick away, Johnson continued fondling with his knob. “Back on the farm, I knew a Bugs Bunny fan,” he said absentmindedly.

“Huh,” I bewilderedly replied.

“One of the guys on a neighbouring farm loved gobbling on my carrot,” he answered matter-of-factly.

I stood dumbfounded, offering no reply. “Do you like carrots?” Johnson then asked me with a glint of horniness in his eyes. With my mouth hanging open, totally stunned, I simply nodded my head.

With his cock still hanging loose, Johnson led us back into the guard house. Once there, he stood before me before asking, “Do you want to be my next Bugs Bunny fan, Johnstone?”

No longer able to resist, I dropped to my knees before him. As he looked down at me he said, “Carrots are good for you, open up.”

After placing his dick on my lips I could taste the residue from his earlier piss. Johnson then cupped my head before he slid his cock into my mouth. Given its shape, it was a very comfortable fit. In fact, ever after it would remain the most comfortable dick I would ever suck.

Shortly I could feel his cock-snout tickling the back of my throat. Johnson then lazily fucked my mouth with total contentment. The masculine hum of his pubic hair gratified me even further as he calmly oiled my throat. For the next twenty minutes, every time his excitement began to peak, he would hold still, before again thrusting his knob into my panting mouth.

“Are you ready for your juice?” he finally asked.

“Mmm,” I replied.

After Johnson’s delicious cum spattered my mouth, I have his knob a good cleaning before we were seated once more, thereafter.

For a few minutes nothing was said, but then we commenced chatting as usual.

An hour later, Johnson again got up and without saying a word opened the front of his trousers. I was again before him on my knees for my second feeding, as he once more took control of my head.

The sensuality of his hands on my head was incredible and my throat simply couldn’t get enough of his knob. I added a new dynamic during this session, which Johnson absolutely loved. I constantly lapped on his balls as my mouth enhanced its repertoire.

After another blissful eternity, I received my second helping of ‘vegetable juice.’

Our following guard duty was from twelve, till four a.m. in the morning. Once our predecessors were out of sight, Johnson didn’t waste a second. Our first interaction followed the same procedure as before, but an hour later Johnson undid my trousers and pushed me forward over the counter. Without asking my permission, it became clear that he wished to fuck my arse. I complied without hesitation and had never felt anything more comfortable or erotic, in my backside ever for or since.

On this occasion, Johnson really took his time. His fucked and slapped and pummelled my hole over and over. Hugging the counter I begged him to fuck me like a bitch in heat. That night my arse got fucked twice more, as load after load of ‘carrot juice’ was unloaded into me.

For the following five months, I played the role of Bugs Bunny’s greatest fan. I came to love our guard house escapades.

Johnson never sucked me off or kissed me. Truthfully, I couldn’t have cared less because the; ‘being used by a straight guy’ fantasy was more than enough for me.

I often think about him. He probably got married and has a brood of kids running around his farm.

I sincerely hope his wife is fond of carrots.

Caliban


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