The Platoon Leader's Descent

Two floors above the Lieutenant and Specialist Captain Tyler McNeil and Captain Garret Walker had finally arrived at their room after the seven-hour drive from Jacksonville, North Carolina. McNeil and Walker were both pilots in VMM-263 a Marine Corps squadron that flies the Osprey tiltrotor aircraft, a unique hybrid of airplane and helicopter.

Both McNeil and Walker were the very definitions of country boys. Tyler had grown up in Madden, Mississippi, on a cotton farm while Garret was born and raised in Soddy-Daisy, Tennessee, where his father was the Sheriff of Hamilton County. Both could usually be found in Wranglers and t-shirts, and neither of them, while not in uniform, was ever seen without wearing a ballcap. Besides their upbringing, they were similar physically as both came in at 5'11, 160 pounds, give or take a few pounds. The two men ran almost five miles a day and had the lean stature of runners. The only difference between the two was that McNeil had dirty blonde hair and was quite smooth while Walker had dark chestnut brown hair and had a very hairy chest. 

"Hey, man. Let me snag a dip from ya’," Tyler asked, throwing the beer they had brought with them in the mini-fridge.

"Get your own damn can, you mooch. You're always taking my shit", Garret responded as he fell onto the couch.

"Really? I constantly give you a pinch when you ask. You stingy fuck.”

"When was the last time I bummed a dip off you? No one wants that nasty ass Grizzly brand bullshit you buy, you redneck," Garret laughed.

"Who the fuck are you calling redneck?" Tyler asked, laughing back. "You currently have a fucking car engine in the living room."

"That's an engine to a 1968 Olds 442. A beauty of a car that I am lovingly restoring to its previous glory. That engine doesn't belong in a filthy garage."

"You gonna throw me that can or what?" Tyler asked, walking towards the couch and taking a seat on the coffee table directly in front of Garret.

"What's in it for me? Got to make it worth my while," Garret said, smiling, and flipping his can of Copenhagen Long Cut in the air.

"Well, how's this," Tyler responded, taking off his Ole' Miss ballcap and placing it next to him on the table. "How bout you give me a dip, and I'll promise to suck on that big ol’ dick of yours for a bit."

"Seems to me that's going to be happening sometime soon anyway,” Garret replied, smirking, and reaching down to grab his crotch. "I know you can't pass up on this thing for long."

"I suppose you have a point," Tyler said, scratching his head. "Now that I think about, I guess I could pass up on the dip for a while and take that monster on."

Garret smiled and threw his dip can on the couch as he stood. His crotch, buried beneath his Wranglers, a mere two inches from Tyler McNeil's face. Garret Walker turned his Braves cap backward and looked down at McNeil.

"Go on then. Get to it."

Tyler reached up and unbuttoned Garret's Wranglers and unzipped them, pulling them to the floor, so they bunched up around Garret's cowboy boots. Garret wore a pair of lime green 2xist briefs that showed off his large bulge quite nicely. The sexy underwear was what Garret called his one obvious gay trait.

“Well, that and getting your pecker sucked on by me,” Tyler had told him the first time Garret made the comment.

There was a large wet spot on the briefs that Tyler leaned forward and licked softly before pulling the underwear down to join the Wranglers.  Garret Walker's fully engorged 7-inch cock flopped out, hitting Tyler on his chin.

"Someone is a bit horny," Tyler said, seductively as he began to stroke Garret's cock.

"If you want that dip, you better get to sucking on that guy," Garret said, smiling as he placed both hands on Tyler's head.

"First things first," Tyler responded, standing.

Tyler ripped off his t-shirt and was quickly out of his almost identical Wranglers; he was free-balling, so his 6-inch erect cock promptly revealed itself. Tyler's pubes were clipped quite short while Garret was a hairy beast, just like Tyler preferred. Tyler shoved the coffee table towards the wall and dropped to his knees as he grabbed for Garret's cock.

"Fuck my mouth, sir, fuck it real good," he moaned as he swallowed Garret's tool.

"Good boy. Getting naked was the right call.”

They had one overarching rule, and it was simple. When the two had on clothes, they were absolute equals; when Tyler was naked and erect, he served Garret. The relationship, going on three years, had thrived under this simple agreement.

Garret placed a hand on each side of Tyler's head and held tight as he began to thrust in and out of Tyler's mouth. Tyler McNeil looked up at Garret and never broke eye contact, he loved the facial expressions Garret made when he roughly fucked his mouth. Tyler's cock was aching and longed to pleasure himself, but Tyler knew that he had to receive permission first. If he broke the rule, Tyler would be punished, and he wasn't in the mood for a spanking. Not yet, anyway. Garret's piston was driving so hard into Tyler's mouth that a three-inch rope of saliva was hanging from its right corner, it broke free and fell to Tyler's smooth chest. After five or so minutes, Garret pulled his cock out of Tyler's mouth; he began to slap Tyler in the face with his root.

"I'm feeling generous boy. I'll let you decide where I plant this load," Garret said gruffly.

Tyler stood and walked to the end of the bed and crawled onto it; he placed himself on all fours with his feet sticking off the end.

"You know where I always want it, sir. Please, sir. Give me your load."

"It was just a test, boy," Garret growled. "You passed."

Garret stepped out of his Wranglers, and underwear still bunched up around his ankles as he tore the orange Tennessee Vols t-shirt from his body. He quickly grabbed some lube from the backpack beneath the end table and positioned himself behind Tyler.

"Spread that ass, boy," he ordered Tyler.

Tyler reached behind with both hands and pulled his cheeks apart, presenting his chute to Garret.

"I shaved smooth for you, sir. Just as you like.” Tyler whimpered, his voice always got quite soft when he switched from good ol' boy into his submissive role.

"Very good job, boy," Garret growled. "You know how to make me happy."

Garret applied a generous amount of lube to his cock and began to move it towards Tyler's opening, then he paused and got to his knees and began to lap at Tyler's chute roughly while vigorously stroking his meat.

"Oh, fuck......damn, sir," Tyler moaned. "Thank you."

Tyler loved getting his ass eaten. What he did not care for at all was when his ass was referred to as a pussy. Garret learned this the hard way early in their relationship.

"Get on this thing, boy. I bet you have a tight pussy," Garret had said when, during their third time having sex, Tyler was about to mount him for a ride.

This comment led to Garret having one hell of a black eye from Tyler's fist connecting with the side of his face. Tyler's explanation was clear.

"Just because I like taking dick like a woman doesn't make me one, and I would think kindly of you if you wouldn't suggest that I am one." he lectured Garret as Captain Walker held a bag of ice to his face in Tyler's kitchen.

Garret would later state that he decided right then that one day he was going to marry Tyler. One year later, they did just that. Tyler loved getting his ass eaten about as much as Garret loved to do it. His husband's ass always tasted so good and somehow always was clean and smelling terrific, ready to go. Garret still hadn't figured out how he did this.

"Fuck......tongue fuck me, sir," Tyler moaned. "Eat me good."

"Damn boy, I love this smooth hole. So fucking tasty."

Garret was so enamored with his husband's ass and stroking his meat that he lost track of himself and his surroundings; he was pulled from his gaze when he suddenly realized he was about to cum.

"Well, fuck me sideways," Garret shouted as he stood just in time to shower his load all over Tyler's smooth ass. He stood there watching his cum run in thick streams down his husband's butt; towards his thighs.

Tyler was loudly laughing as he rolled off all fours and onto his back.

"Well, damn stud, you lose control? Is this your first time?"

"Eat a dick," Garret laughed. "And you’re getting cum all over the comforter."

"Well, I shot my load all over it five minutes ago, so this is just adding to the mess. Thanks for noticing, by the way."

"Not my fault," Garret replied. "You know I zone out when I get to taste that hole of yours. Now get up and shower. Let's head out; we still have some time to get a few cold beers."

Tucker sat on the arm of the couch, with the towel still wrapped around his waist, listening as Ryan recounted the events of the LT's relationship with Blake. As he spoke, Ryan continued to open more of Tucker's beer, and soon, there were five empty bottles on the coffee table. Tucker drank only one as he found himself caught up in the tale of Ryan and Blake. When Ryan was finished, he took a long pull from his beer bottle and spoke once more.

"So, it would seem that you and I have more in common than being in the Army and being gay boys," Ryan stated solemnly.

"True, but there is a fairly big difference in what you did and what I did," Tucker responded.

"How so?" Ryan asked.

"You know that I did to you, and given the human mind, I doubt you will forget about it anytime soon." the Specialist explained. "Blake, on the other hand, is sitting fat and happy somewhere with no fucking clue that you blew a load onto his grill."

Tucker took a swig from his now warm beer.

"I'm not excusing what you did." Tucker continued. "It was fucked up for sure, but Blake is only a victim in the strictest of sense. He's unaware of it and thus doesn't suffer from it. Unless, of course, your dirty ass gave him an STD."

Ryan laughed at this last statement and opened another beer, handing it to Tucker. He was ready to move on from Blake for now.

"I thought you enlisted guys knew how to drink?" Ryan teased.

"Please LT. Wait till we get to the bar," Tucker shot back, taking the beer from Ryan's hand. "I'm from Texas, and I not only am a master beer drinker. I also drink tequila like water, so don't get too uppity."

Tucker drank half the beer in one gulp to prove his drinking prowess while pondering the idea of telling Ryan about Ensign Foley.

"That can wait," Tucker concluded.

"Well, we seem to be out of beer, so let's go grab a few. There's a gay bar near here that is pretty legit," Tucker announced, standing up from his place on the couch's arm.

Ryan's face contorted at Tucker's announcement. The fear of venturing out in public, given the events of the past few hours, hitting him, once again, with great force. Tucker took notice of the LT's reaction.

"Why am I under the distinct impression you want to say something to me, LT?", Tucker asked, smiling, hoping to lighten the mood.

"It’s just...well….I'm not sure." Ryan stuttered.

Tucker sat back down on the arm of the couch.

"Look, this whole thing is new to you," Tucker began. "I get that things are sort of chaotic, but I think a good rule going forth is that you and I both need to be free to speak up and be honest. If we hold back and let shit fester, this thing could blow up in our faces. Cool."

Ryan let out a breath, relieved.

"Very cool," the LT replied. "I guess I'm nervous going out in public like this...you know, me being the way I am and you being the way you are."

He paused, playing with the empty beer bottle in his hand.

"I'm not 100% comfortable with this shit yet, even when it's just the two of us." Ryan continued, "Out in public....well, I may freak the fuck out."

Tucker wanted to reach out and kiss the LT at that moment. It was clear that Ryan was completely honest and forthright about his feelings. And it was not easy for him. After years of lying, he was now able to let someone know how he felt truly.

"Let's do this," Tucker replied earnestly. "As soon as we walk out of this room, we will be two buds going to grab some beers and hang out. No sir, no boy, no fag. Just two friends. Cool?"

Ryan let out a profound sigh again.

"Thank God." the LT said, clearly relieved. "Then let's get going. I'm thirsty."

Tucker stood once more and went to grab some clothes to change. He reached the dresser and turned back around towards Ryan.

"Having said that, you still have to wear the cage, boy," Tucker laughed.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir," Ryan replied as he reached down and grabbed his chastity device.

With Tucker now dressed, the two made their way out. It was pushing 11:30, so there were still three hours left to get some drinking in before the bars closed. The two waited at the end of the hallway for the elevator. Tucker noticed that the PL seemed quite calm, even happy, no longer worried about venturing forth into the public eye. The Specialist wanted to reach out and put his arm around the LT but held back.

"Shit, what the fuck is going on with me?" Tucker asked himself. "The LT is living in my head rent-free right now."

About the time Tyler and Garett checked into the W Hotel-Midtown, Major Nate Preston was packing the last of his boxes at his apartment in the River Market area of Kansas City. Nate had just finished the 44-week long Command and General Staff Course at Fort Leavenworth. The commute between his apartment and Leavenworth was almost an hour, but it was well worth it. Living in the area around Leavenworth would have been much too depressing, so Nate suffered through the daily commute.

Nate's boyfriend had arrived that evening from Fort Lewis, outside of Seattle, he was going to make the drive with Nate from Kansas City to Fort Stewart, which was MAJ Preston's next assignment. Nate would spend a few months on division staff before taking the reigns as the battalion operations officer at 1-30 Infantry Battalion. Nate and his boyfriend had been dating for about a year, and most of that was long distance. They had met when Nate was attached to the ROTC department at Georgetown University, where his boyfriend had been a Cadet. Nate knew that this was a severe breach of the Army's fraternization policy. However, he found that he was unable to get the Cadet out of his mind after they had met on Grindr for, what he thought, was a one-time hookup. Almost a year later, he readily admitted he was in love with the now 2nd Lieutenant.

"Jesus Christ, I'm not going to have any glasses left with that packing job," Nate swore as his boyfriend haphazardly packed the last of the items in his kitchen.

"Fuck you, asshat," Blake Fitzroy replied. "I fly from Fort Lewis to help you drive to Stewart, and you thank me but not having all the packing done. So eat me."

"Does this mean you are going to pout the whole way to Georgia?" Nate asked, giving Blake his best pouty face.

Blake left the box with the soon to be broken glasses and wrapped his arms around Nate's neck.

"Maybe. Then again, I can think of one thing that might cheer me up. I've been here for almost three hours and have yet to see you naked. Tease."

Blake's tongue immediately began to explore MAJ Preston's mouth. Preston's sizeable frame started to tingle as Blake's tongue entered his mouth, and his 7-inch root sprang to life. Nate grabbed Blake around his waist, lifted the LT off his feet, and did so with ease. At 6'5, 265 lbs. Nate was a bear of a man. He was not toned; he was overflowing with muscles. During college at Nebraska, Nate had discovered the joy of weight lifting while playing rugby on the university’s club team, and he seemed to grow larger with each passing year.

With the bed already packed in the U-Haul, Nate carried Blake to the living room and deposited him on a large pile of moving blankets that the U-Haul agency had provided. Blake was soon sitting crossed legged looking up at this beast of a man who was now removing his t-shirt.

"God, I missed that hairy chest so much," Blake whispered.

Nate flexed both his pecs as he squeezed his nipples.

"What else did you miss?" Nate growled.

"Well, maybe that sweet ass of yours. Just a bit, though."

Nate pulled his sweats down with one pull and threw them toward an empty packing box, he turned away from Blake, bending over with his hands now resting on his knees.

"Do you mean this ass?" Nate said, looking back over his shoulder.

Blake made his way to his knees and scooted over to Nate, still bent over. The LT placed his hands on the Major's hairy butt and spread the hard rock cheeks. His mouth began to lap at the tight hole that tasted of soap and sweat. Blakes tongue wildly darted in and out of Nate's opening as Nate began to stroke his engorged cock. Blake lifted his head from Preston's crevice.

"God damn you taste good stud."

Nate jerked himself for only 15 or so seconds before releasing his cock. He was a beast that reeked of manliness, but he was keenly aware of his limitations—one being stamina. Nate had suffered from premature ejaculation since day one of his sex life. After a few humiliating attempts at topping, he switched gears and took on a new role as a bottom. He saw this as the best decision of his life.

"Fuck, enough. Fuck me Blake", he panted after a few minutes, dropping to his knees.

Blake quickly stood, losing his jeans and button-down rapidly. His small cock was dripping volumes of precum.

"Beg me. I want to hear you beg.", Blake commanded, looking down at Nate.

"Please, please, take my ass stud. I want it so bad." the massive man whined.

"You want my big cock, boy?"

This was an inside joke between the two. Both were perfectly aware that Blake was tiny, and, in many ways, this had strengthened their relationship. Both provided comfort to the other for the baggage born of perceived shortcomings—Nate with his premature ejaculation and Blake with his tiny penis. Only Nate knew that Blake's casual acceptance of his small cock was a mere facade, it troubled the LT almost as much as it did LT Cooper.

Blake, on one knee, aimed at the Major's chute. Nate, with his chest flat on the floor, reached behind himself with his massive arms and spread his ass for the LT. They often joked about all the money they saved not having to buy lube. With a little saliva, Blake was easily able to penetrate Nate with his 3 inches. The LT's cock eased into the Major, who let out a small moan. While Blake could not dive deep into his ass, he made up for it with vigor and sheer force. He went from zero to full bore in mere seconds and was soon pummeling Nate's hole. The sound of Blakes pelvis slamming into Nate's butt reverberated throughout the now-empty apartment.

"Fuck, fuck, take my ass, stud."

"God, I missed you, Nate," Blake said, breathing heavily. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

"I love you too, so damn much."

Nate, his chest now off the floor, desperately wanted to stroke himself, but he had to make this last. The feeling of Blake taking his ass was driving him wild, and he didn't want it to end. He was able to take 10 minutes until he could wait no more.

"I can't hold out," Nate whined. "Are you close?"

"Do it," Blake ordered. "I'm almost there too."

With that, Nate reached up and grabbed his root and gave it two quick tugs before blasting one massive shot of jizz onto the hardwood floor beneath him. His ass convulsed around Blake's cock, who immediately sensed he was about to nut also. Blake pulled out of the Major's chute and shot three ropes of cum onto his hairy ass. Nate fell forward when he felt Blake's spunk hit his cheeks, his chest smearing his load into the floor. The LT still on one knee was overcome with passion and leaned forward and did something he had never done prior. Blake began to lick his cum off the Major's ass and taking it all into his mouth.

"Oh, shit. That's new", Nate panted, loving this new aspect of their sexual escapades.

Blake was not done; he crawled forward and laid on his left side next to Nate, so his head was directly next to the Majors. Nate turned his head and saw the look in Blake's eyes and also recognized that his mouth was shut tight. He knew what Blake had in mind, so Nate shifted towards the LT, and their mouths were soon connected. Nates cock, which had begun to soften, sprung to life when Blake's load made its way into his mouth.

The Major and Lieutenant curled up on the jumble of packing blankets in a loose embrace. Cum still covered Nate's chest after he had smeared his load into the floor; both still had the taste of Blake's jizz in their mouth. Nate hoped that Round 2 was not far off, and Blake had already decided that it would happen shortly. Although this time, he wanted to fuck the Major as Nate lay on his back to enjoy watching his facial expressions as his ass was taken.

"So, when are you getting to Stewart? I don't think I can wait too long," Nate asked.

"Three weeks, so you won't have to take to many cold showers.”

Although still, a 2nd Lieutenant Blake had managed to receive orders for Fort Stewart, which is quite rare. Usually, infantry LTs spend three or four years at their first duty assignment before making Captain and heading to Fort Benning for the Maneuver Captain's Career Course. However, Blake's father was quite wealthy; thus, he had numerous connections in the halls of power in D.C., to include the Secretary of the Army, who was a classmate from his time at Princeton. One phone call from dad to the Secretary and within 24 hours Blake had orders sending him to Stewart.

"I don't know whose cock you sucked Fitzroy, but it would seem you are going to Fort Stewart," Blakes battalion commander said to him when he got word of the move.

"Well, I can't wait. You got any many buds there?" Nate asked. "I'll be fucking busy once I head to the battalion. Want you to have some buds to chill with while I'm up to my ass in PowerPoint presentations."

"Yeah, got some friends from IOBC there," Blake responded, as he played with Nate's soft cock. "That one dude I told you about is at Stewart."

"Who are you talking about, again?"

"I told you about him a few weeks ago. We lifted together practically every day and hung out for a while during IOBC," Blake explained. "He's the dude who almost came in his pants when he saw me naked. I finally remembered his last name the other day. Cooper. Ryan Cooper."

Major Preston laughed.

"Oh yeah. I remember. Didn't you think he was a hardcore closet case?"

"Oh, for sure. When I told him I was a virgin, I could tell he boned up immediately. He tried to  hide it with his beer bottle, but it was pretty obvious."

"Virgin? Bitch, please," Nate said, laughing hysterically.

"Fuck you. I didn't lie. I am a virgin with chicks. Plus, I was new to the Army and freaked out about people knowing I was gay. How better to get people to not ask about your sex life than by claiming to be a virgin?"

"You think this guy might be down?" Nate asked.

"We can find out. Ryan would be a good choice; he is pretty damn hot." Blake responded, now stroking Nate's shaft with more enthusiasm.

Blake and Nate had recently discussed bringing a third into their bedroom but had not yet gone through with their plans. They had decided that once they both were at Fort Stewart, they would find a suitable prospect.

"That’s enough talk. You need to roll over so I can get another taste of that sweet hole," Blake suggested.

Nate did as the LT suggested. It was time for Round 2.

Ryan and Tucker made their way to Tucker's favorite bar, 'Blakes on the Park,' the irony of which was not lost on either of them. While the bar was packed, they managed to grab two stools at the bar located on the upper level. And Tucker, as he had stated earlier, was able to drink tequila like water. The LT tried to keep up but had to slow down once it became apparent that he was about to go from a heavy buzz to fall down drunk if he had a few more shots. Their bar stools faced each other, each man resting an arm on the bar, their legs intertwined to get as close as possible to hear one another over the loud drag show that was taking place on the bar's first level. The alcohol made both more comfortable, so the conversation flowed smoothly with little, to no, pauses. And within an hour of arriving, both were just drunk enough that any reluctance to discuss things too personal had disappeared.

"So, LT, still a virgin at 23?" Tucker smiled, "How the fuck did a guy like you not get some over the years?"

Tucker took another shot of Jose Cuervo Gold.

Ryan laughed, which was pleasantly surprising to him. Admitting to being a virgin had, just a day ago, seemed an impossibility. Now, he was able to discuss it freely and with almost no embarrassment.

"No great mystery, I guess. A combination of being a total closet case, body issues, and being in a crazy masculine environment all teamed up to fuck with my head."

"I would have gone insane." Tucker told him, " Definitely would have been beating my pud like three times a day."

Ryan laughed loudly.

"Trust me, I did. You would not have wanted to touch any of the socks in my dirty clothes hamper. And being at West Point made it worse. Surrounded by hundreds of hot guys all day kept me perpetually horny."

"Dude, you know you weren't the only homo there," Tucker exclaimed. "You could have been banged out on the reg."

Ryan laughed so hard beer shot out of his mouth.

"If you had any idea how much I fantasized about that." Ryan blurted out, still laughing, wiping his mouth.

"You never tried to hook up? Not even once?"

"The closest I got to sex up there was beating off in my roommates cock sock," Ryan said, grinning.

"What? You fucking perv." Tucker shouted quite loudly. "This I have to hear.

"My roommate Dan use to beat off every morning before reveille." Ryan began to explain. "I guess he thought he was super stealthy about it, but it was so fucking obvious he was cranking one out under his blanket. When he was done, he'd throw the sock under his bed and get up for practice. He was on the cross country team, and they hit it crazy early."

Ryan took a long swig of beer and ordered two more from the bartender.

"After he'd leave, I get up and grab the sock and jerk off with it." Ryan continued to explain. "If I got to it quick enough, the cum was still warm, and for virginal me, it felt so damn good. I'd blow in the sock and put it back where I'd found it. I sort of got off knowing Dan would jerk off with the same sock the next morning."

"You sick fuck, that's awesome," Tucker said excitedly, resting his right hand on Ryan's thigh.

The hand on the thigh, their knees touching, the proximity of their bodies, and all the talk about sex led to Ryan having a healthy erection. He kept rearranging his cage in an attempt to get himself more comfortable. Tucker had seen him do this several times. Tucker, impacted by alcohol and horniness, forgot they were supposed to be just buds.

"The cage getting uncomfortable there, LT?" Tucker whispered as he leaned in to get closer.

"Yes, sir," Ryan whispered back.

Ryan had forgotten also.

"Give me a kiss, and I'll take it off," Tucker said, grinning.

Ryan did not pause. The LT leaned in, grabbed Tucker by his shirt, and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. The platoon leader's tongue moving about every corner of his soldier's mouth for over a minute before he pulled away.

"How was that?" Ryan asked. "Good enough?"

Tucker said nothing. He held up his hand to get the bartender's attention.

"Yo, Keith," Tucker yelled. "What's the chance of me getting that key off of you for a few minutes?"

Keith Nestor had been tending bar at Blake's for two years after getting out of the Army; he had spent his last three years at Fort Bragg as an MP. Tucker and Keith had met the previous year on Tucker's first visit to Blake's and became good friends sharing their various tales of life in the Army. Keith had loaned Tucker the key to a storage room at the back of the bar near the restrooms on several occasions when Tucker required some privacy. The last time he was in Atlanta, the Specialist had gotten head in the storage room from a Georgia Tech senior who claimed it was his first time to blow a dude. Tucker called bullshit on that after the porn level blow job he received.

"No problem, man," Keith said, smiling. "Try not to leave a mess this time, asshole."

"I make no promises, my man," Tucker informed Keith as he took the key.

Tucker grabbed their two beers and stood.

"Let's go LT and get you more comfortable," Tucker yelled, trying to be heard over the chubby Cher impersonator singing on the first floor.

The two made it to the small storage room that was only slightly larger than the bathroom back in the hotel room. The shelves on the right side were filled with old promotional items, posters, and broken neon signs. On the left side of the room were a dozen or so boxes of various spirits and beers. Tucker stacked two of the boxes and took a seat as he put their two beers on the shelves.

"Well, LT, I can't take the cage off with those pants on, now can I?" Tucker chimed. "And the door is locked, so no worries."

Ryan said nothing. He just smiled and unbuttoned his jeans, and they fell to the floor, his white briefs nowhere to be seen. Tucker noticed that he was erect. Tucker took a small key from his pocket, and in a few seconds, Ryan was free of his device. Ryan went to speak, but before a word was spoken, Tucker was on his knees directly in front of his platoon leader. The Specialist reached behind the LT with both hands and roughly grabbed Ryan's butt pulling him forward. Tucker swallowed the LT's small cock in one gulp and began to suck on Ryan's swollen meat vigorously.

"I'm finally getting a blow job," escaped from Ryan's lips, much to his embarrassment.

Tucker heard this and stopped, he pulled his mouth of Ryan's cock and looked up the LT.

"God damn you're sexy," he moaned and dove back onto Ryan's penis.

Tucker knew this would be quick. Guys getting head for the first time aren't known for their stamina, and Ryan was no different. After less than 2 minutes, Ryan's legs began to shake.

"Fuck......it’s coming man," Ryan moaned loudly.

Tucker heard Ryan but kept going, and he soon felt Ryan's load blow onto his tongue and down his throat. He continued working Ryan's cock; Ryan was now fully trembling. The LT was discovering how sensitive a cock can get after an orgasm when the shaft keeps getting worked over. When Ryan started to gain his composure, Tucker stood.

"Couldn't help myself there, LT," Tucker explained, panting. "Damn, you got me worked up."

Ryan pulled Tucker close.

"Let me help, still got a bit on your chin," Ryan whispered as he licked a small glob of his cum off Tucker's face.

They two were soon making out enthusiastically. Tucker, with his arms wrapped around the LT, pushed Ryan back into the shelves knocking several old Bud Light posters promoting Super Bowl LIII to the floor. Ryan's pants were still around his ankles, and the LT could feel Tucker's erect cock pushing through his pants into his exposed cock.

"Fuck me, sir. Please take my ass." Ryan panted.

Tucker did not say a word; he stepped back and began to unbutton his pants. Ryan stepped out of his jeans and dropped to his knees before getting on all fours facing the door. Tucker's pants joined Ryan's in a pile next to the posters on the floor. The Specialist dropped to his knees behind the LT and began to rub Ryan's taut butt. The LT was visibly shaking; his nerves were in overdrive at the prospect of finally losing his virginity.

"You ready, boy?" Tucker asked. "You ready for me to take your virginity?"

Ryan looked back at Tucker.

"Yes, I'm so ready, sir.”

The look on his face was a mix of excitement and fear as Tucker imagined he looked his first time. Good or bad, the memory of a person's first time stays with them forever. With this thought, Tucker stood buttoning his pants.

"Stand up, Ryan," Tucker asked gently.

Ryan pushed himself, to his feet, quite confused. He reached down and pulled up his pants, sensing the moment had, for some reason, passed.

"What's wrong? What did I do?" Ryan asked nervously.

"You did nothing wrong, nothing at all," Tucker told him.

Tucker stepped closer to Lieutenant Cooper and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"About eight hours ago, I hated you with all my soul," Tucker began. “Now, I.......well, I don't know what I feel about you, but it seems to be the opposite of hate."

Tucker paused. Hoping he was not coming across as super cheesy.

"While I can't define how I feel about you, Ryan," Tucker continued. "There is no way I'm letting you lose your virginity on a filthy storage room floor in a bar."

Ryan leaned in and kissed Tucker. After a few moments of  Ryan stepped back.

"Well, eight hours ago, you made me strip and jerk off in your truck and then threw socks in my face as I stood naked in a parking lot," Ryan said with a coy smile. "So I pretty much hated you also.”

He paused; it was Ryan's turn to hope he wasn't cheesy. This was territory he had never traveled before.

"Yet here I stand, and I find myself quite happy that sometime soon you are going to be my first," Ryan said sincerely, blushing. "However, you did blow it. Your prediction did not come true."

"Prediction? What do you mean?" Tucker asked, confused.

"When we first spoke in the hotel today, you said your cock would be in my ass "tonight." That was yesterday; it's now 1:50 AM the next day." Ryan laughed.

It was Tucker's turn to blush.

"Well, we will rectify that soon. But if its 1:50, that means we have 40 minutes till this place closes," Tucker stated. "A few more tequila shots are in order. And try to keep up this time."

Both got dressed and made their way back to the bar.

At a rundown Hotel 6 not far from Blake’s, Denny Wilson looked down at Justin Monroe, who lay on the bed, chest pressed to the mattress with his smooth ass pushed up and out. Justin wore lavender panties that were bunched to the side to expose his hole. Denny had insisted he put them on. Denny was transfixed by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of the hole of this cute University of Georgia frat boy who clearly had daddy issues. Denny, at 52, was almost 32 years older than Justin. Denny like them younger, and Justin liked them older. It was seemingly the perfect match.

"You do like how daddy's cock feels in you, boy?" Denny panted, watching intently as his fat 6-inch cock stretched the frat boys ass.

"Fuck me hard, daddy. I need it," Justin panted.

His masculine southern drawl excited Denny as did this boy's body. Justin was short, coming in at 5'6, but he clearly worked out regularly. His stomach was rock hard with the signs of an emerging six-pack. And Justin's ass was even more firm. Justin's wavy, almost curly, auburn hair, stuck out from the sides of the UGA baseball cap he wore backward. Justin had it on when he arrived at Denny's hotel room and continued wearing it throughout the night. Denny didn't argue with this as it added to the fantasy he was trying to create. Denny took no notice of Justin's cock. Such things were not to his taste.

"Are you daddy's little slut? Huh? Daddy's slut?" Denny leered.

"Such a slut, daddy. Please fuck me harder," Justin whimpered.

"I knew you were the second I saw you, slut," Denny growled. "You fucking disgust me."

Denny spat on Justin's back and slapped the frat boy's ass with the open palm of his right hand, leaving a 6-inch mark across Justin's cheeks. Denny wore a heavy gold ring for no other reason than to make such marks. He actually hated jewelry. The mark was one of many that now adorned Justin's firm butt.

"Oh, yes, daddy. Slap my ass. I'm your little pussy boy," Justin moaned.

Denny loved how Justin's ass felt, and the boy was gorgeous, but Denny was not pleased. The fantasy was not there, no matter how hard he tried to create it in his mind. He preferred when his boys put up a bit of a fight. Justin had just caved and submitted. Nothing excited Denny more than meeting a young masculine stud, who looked at himself as a real man and then turning that man into a pathetic and feminized fuck toy. Justin clearly liked this too much; there was no challenge here for Denny.

Denny's mind focused on the cocky young Army Captain from almost a year ago.

"Now, there was a proud one," Denny thought. "So sure of himself and so confident. I bet that little Army boy isn't so proud and confident anymore."

Denny spat on Justin again.

"Filthy whore," he grunted.

"I wonder what Army boy thought when he woke up on the park bench where I dumped his ass?" Denny pondered. "Wearing nothing but pink panties with lipstick smeared across his mouth."

Denny had kept the military ID of the drugged Captain; he left lying on the bench in Piedmont Park. He often gazed at the IDs photo reveling in his defeat of Captain Josh Bowers.

"I'll just dump a quick load in this whore and kick him to the curb," Denny thought, looking down at Justin. "I have to hunt for what I want. The fags on Scruff, where I found this slut, just want it too bad."

Denny would indeed be on the hunt soon; he was a predator. His weapon was a concoction of Rohypnol, Ketamine, and GHB that he had perfected over the years. He referred to his mixture as his "Sidekick." It had never failed him.

“You want my load whore? I know you want it, it’s coming,” Denny growled.

“You creepy fuck. I need to get away from this psycho,” raced through Justin’s mind.

“Please daddy, give it to me,” Justin whined, hoping desperately he was convincing.