The last time I took a survey of my body I was standing next to Pfc. Jessop, Bradly Jessop. We’re in the barracks head staring at the bulkhead draining our snakes into the urinal. By the way, I’m Pfc. Frank Skipper. “What’s up Skip?”. He seems to get a jolt out of shorting my last name, and using it as my first, but what the hell. “Not a hell of a lot dude, as you can see.” “Yeah, not much going on down here either.” He says. “Yeah, know what you mean bro, just sweat hanging off my balls after that forced run Gunny put us through this morning.” Turning toward Skip, Brad stuffs away his tumescent big-headed dick and buttons up. “That motherfucker has me on his shit list.” “Yeah, I saw him use his size 12 combats to kick you square in your ass.” “Fucker bruised my tail bone and it hurts like hell.” At 5’9” and looking like a poster for the Corps, his blond good looks takes him just about anywhere he wants to go. He’s the squared away Marine every other grunt wants to emulate and he drives a black 2025 Ram 1500 Laramie that his stock broker father gifted him with after he graduated Paris Island. If I wasn’t a pussy chaser and a clit hound I’d be in love with him like every chick who crosses his path. Damn, he just smells good, sweat and all. The expensive after shave he uses smells like a Nebraska wheat field in late spring and the Kiwi boot polish scent seems to linger in the air when he passes you by. I saved his ass during boot camp when he almost got caught catching a smoke after lights out knelling behind a dumpster behind our barracks. But that’s a story for later.
Anyway, I digress. Shit, take a good look in this direction and you’ll see an average working-class joe with not much going outside of the Corps. 6’2’, worked out bod, hairy chest, big needy tits, square jaw and a nose just a little bit too big for my ugly-handsome face. Dad’s a drunk and a pussy hound and mother is long gone from the scene. Guess I took after my useless dad in the pussy chasing column. And for that I thank him.
“Hey Skip you wanna wing man me Friday night, you can have my cast offs” he says turning slightly toward me brushing his fresh highntight smiling at the image staring back at him, only half meaning his put down. “Yeah Bradly.” I say, putting emphasis on the B pursing my lips at him. “I’ll take your cast offs as long as you agree to suck my dick!” “You call that thing a dick?” He says coming to me to hook the crook of his arm around my neck, knuckling the top of my head. “Yeah, I’ll suck your dick when hell freezes over.” “I’ll keep my eye on the weather forecast cunt breath.” Ha Ha Ha. “You do that thing bro, I love spaghetti.”
The remainder of the day is taken up with field day, like every other Friday. Mopping and machine buffing the deck, all out head duty until every sink, toilet bowl and mirror looks like new. It will be several months until we are assigned to two man rooms with two bunk beds, and real honest to God closets and lots of privacy. But until then the Platoon lives in a long squad bay with not much privacy. Two tall green metal lockers side by side create a semi-private space, with a top and bottom rack. Shined black leather combat boots and rough out desert boots stand side by side under the rack. And in this case, my boots next to Brads. This living arrangement is a little better and a lot more private than PI where the tall lockers stood next to the wall and all the racks were exposed, ergo, no privacy. Camp Lejeune at least allows Marines to bring their cars, truck, or bikes on base and park in the paved lot at the back of the barracks. That’s where Brad parks his Ram truck.
Evening dinner in the chow hall, a quick shave and shower and we suit up for the Friday night to get stoned on beer and search out some good old-fashioned pussy eating and fucking. Brad as usual is dressed up in his cowboy drag. He likes to present himself as a Wyoming cowboy although he was born and reared in Manhattan. He wears soft brown leather Tecova cowboy boots with a 1 ½ inch angled stacked hill and a round toe, tight Wrangler jeans that cling to his hard, high biscuit butt, brown tooled three-inch leather belt with a sterling silver championship rodeo buckle, pearl button red, white and blue cowboy shirt opened down to his waist, and white Stetson Maximo cowboy hat. He looks like a television ad for Ram trucks. I, on the other hand, sport faded levis, black combat boots, white crew neck undershirt and worn levis jacket, a battered New York Yankee baseball cap. “Skip, we got to get you into some decent shit man… chicks don’t turn on to that back alley look you got going.” “Kiss my ever-loving alley cat ass bro.” “Oh yeah? If you didn’t look like some homeless crawler I might just do that.” “Well, get out daddy’s credit card and dress me up like a ken doll and you can have at my ass anytime you feel so inclined.” “Dude, don’t go gay on me, I couldn’t handle that kind of shit.” “Just saying bro, just saying.” “Oh well asshole let’s get the fuck outta Dodge, my dick is weeping like a baby crying for its mother’s tit”
And out the barrack’s door and into Brad’s new Ram truck headed into Jacksonville to the Globe and Anchor. The dump where local talent searches for the Marine of their choice for an evening of painted lips around dick heads and fingers and dicks up cunts and assholes. Brad reaches over and grabs the boot I have resting on the dash board. “Fuck bro, this fucker is brand new so get your goddamned dirty boots off my baby’s dash. I’ll have to punish you for conduct unbecoming an asshole if you keep this kind of shit up.” “Oh, sorry dad, I’ll be good.” Ha Ha. “You better, if you know what’s good for you.” “Oh, I’m so scared. Let’s just concentrate on some pussy we can double team like last time, you remember, don’t you?” “Yeah, I remember having to fight you for her ass which by the way was way tighter than her snatch.” “Yeah, it was tight, so we’ll flip a coin to see who goes into what hole.” “Sounds like a plan to me.”
The bar is rocking and rolling. We park in the back and enter. The smoke is thick and the country music is ten decibels over the legal limit. “Dude, check out the blonde shaking her ass dancing with that loser.” He shouts in my ear. “Yeah, looks like a target to me, just got to get her away from Sergeant Flabby Ass. You get us some brews, and I’ll make a move.” Brad then works his way through the crowd and arrives behind the dancing pair, pushes his Stetson back and lean in to speak into her ear. She turns away from her dance partner and throws her slender arms around Brad’s neck.
The sergeant barks “What the fuck do you think you’re doing cowboy, this filly here belongs to me, so shove off before I have to kick some cowboy ass!”
Brad snaps back “You want a piece of this ass, just step out back and try it on for size puke face!”
“Yeah, like it would be worth fighting over a slag like this bronco, she’s all yours, just make certain you get checked for clap come Monday morning.” He turns and gets lost in the crowd.
In the meantime, I return with three brews and pass them around. She takes hers, and swigs down half the bottle. “Who’s you pal, cowboy?” she asks, checking me out up and down. Brad responds, “He’s my delivery boy, always has a package he’s willing to deliver.”
“Yeah, he looks like he could deliver a big package to me, is his as big as yours cowboy?”
“Why don’t you check out both and compare sugar.” “Sure, thing cowboy.” She purrs.
She drains her beer, and at the same time runs her palm over my bulging crotch. “I like what I’m feeling, but maybe your amigo has the edge on you baby.”
She bargains “I got a place nearby, why don’t we go and find out, but I charge double for two.”
“What do you charge by the hour, honey pie?” Brad asks as he drops his right hand down the front of her loose blouse and cups her tit.
“They’re nice and firm Skip, just the kind you love to nurse on. Are you game?”
“Depends on if you are paying dude. I think we could double team her for a couple hours or more if your bank roll holds out. And your daddy won’t mind his hard-earned bucks going up a whore’s ass?”
Brad coughs out a spit of beer laughing and choking at the same time. “Who you calling a whore?” she says. “That’ll cost you five hundred for the both of you to do me.”
“Let’s go sweet thing I cashed papa’s check this morning so we’re all set. Come on Skip, she can suck on you on the way to her place.”
We leave the bar and all three of us deposit ourselves on the front seat of Brad’s Laramie with the bird between us.
Brad fires up the engine as she unbuttons my levis and wrestles out my Marine branding iron, holds it in her hand and scoops out my hairy ball sack. “Umm.” She says bending over to take my dick in her paw. She runs her tongue over its firm head and into its piss slit.
I brush her falling blonde hair away from the side of her face so Brad can watch her pay homage to my now rock-hard member. “Like what you see Marine? She’s doing a good job. She’s got my nuts boiling over.”
“Yeah, that a sight to behold. I didn’t know you were carrying such a big weapon, I’ll make a note of that.”
“You do that my friend, and remember this guided missile has a mind of its own, so be warned.” Brad responds “Noted.”
We arrive at her pad which is on the upper floor of a two-story clapboard house. A worn wooden outside staircase leads to her apartment.
My cock is standing straight out of my levis, catching the evening breeze. My balls stuffed back inside. She’s leading me up the stairs with my dick in one hand and the other hand on the handrail.
We enter, Brad is close behind.
The interior is sparse and dingy containing a small living room with sofa, two ratty upholstered chairs and lamps on side tables. A wooden coffee table, worn and stained beige carpeting. Some old lace curtains hanging in front of the windows. The panes covered in grease and cigarette smoke.
The bedroom has a king size bed with pillows scattered around, a stuffed white kitten and a rag doll near the headboard. One large window covered with dusty venetian blinds, one side hiked up lopsided.
“Come here babe and give my dick a little of that sweet sugar you’re pouring all over my pal’s cock, I’m fucking paying for this ride.”
She releases my dick which by this time is drooling precum, down to toe of my combats, landing and forming a puddle on the shined black leather.
She quickly goes down to her knees. Bends and scoops up my dick drool with one sucking motion of her mouth.
Smiles as she looks up at Brad who has his dick out in his hand, slowly jerking. Fingering the piss slit, rubbing pre over his firm head. Then slaps it back and forth as he moves closer to the blonde whore.
Nudges the toe of his boot between her legs using it to rub across her shaved pussy, dripping cunt juices down on the top of his soft brown boot leather.
“Clean your pussy juice off my leather bitch! I might have known a whore like you wouldn’t wear undies, my mistake.”
She crawls over to Brad and goes to work cleaning the top of his right boot, holding the heel in her hand urging it forward as she licks and rubs her cheek over the soft leather. “I like these boots cowboy, they smell really good, new leather always smells like this, gets me hot.”
“Follow me over to the bed and you can have you have your fill while Skip here eats you out and gets you nice and clean for me.”
“Come on bro, clean up this bitch front and back, that’s why I brought you along. You’re clean up man tonight”
“Whatever you say bro, just let me know when you want to climb aboard this train, you already punched the ticket.”
I lay belly down between the cunt’s spread legs and inch up guided by the tip of my tongue targeting her shaved snatch. I urge my tongue inside, playing with her clit causing a low moan to escape her throat. Suck her clean, then raise her parted legs, draping them over my shoulders and dive in to suck on her rosy sphincter, her butt smells of scented body powder. I shove my tongue in to taste her insides. She’s clean and tasty, just the way I like them. She’s emitting a cashew nut kind of scent which is turning me on big time, as I slurp and suck up her ass juices. “She’s clean bro!”
Brad shoves his wranglers and boxers down to his knees. “Ok pardner, move aside, time for this cowboy to ride the range.”
I move aside to watch the action. Brad, on his knees between her legs goes in, spear in hand and enters her hot insides.
His cock all the way up to his hairy balls and begins to hump.
I watch my Marine buddy fuck the whore. Watch his tight firm ass cheeks clench and relax as he fucks his way to paradise.
I’m fisting my cock almost drooling as I focus on my buddy’s hard ass. I can smell the sex, smell the pheromones emanating from my best friends sweated up and ass crack.
My brain is spinning in overload mode, all of my animal instincts kick in. I can’t stop himself as I hover over my buddy. I lower my nose to his sweating ass. Tongue out lapping up the sweat dripping down his back and into his strong hairy ass crack.
“Hell, yeah Marine eat me up you fucker. I got just what you want.” He says with a wink.
“Only a bro could help out another bro, clean me up, you know you want to.” “AHHHHHHHHHHHHH, sweet JEASUS-FUCKKKKKKKKKK!” “I’m Cumming FUCKKKKKKK-FUCKKKKKK I’m CUMMING!”
I collapse between Brad’s hairy legs. My face glistening with his ass sweat, my dick still hard and throbbing after firing round after round of cum over his legs.
Brad pulls out of the whore and turn toward me. “Damn man, I loved what you did to my ass while I was fucking the bitch. Now lick up your cum from the back of my legs and we’ll call it even.”
“Sure thing boss, after all I am your clean up man, right?”
