Date: Sun, 24 Aug 2003 14:45:03 -0700
From: LA Guy
Subject: We're All Capitalists Now, Chp. 8

This story is entirely a work of fiction and all rights to it and its
characters are copywrite and private to and reserved by the author. This
entire story is fictional and not based upon any individual living or
dead. No reproduction by anyone for any reason whatsoever is
permitted. This is a novel of gay sex, some of the sex depicted will be
consensual, a great deal will not, some will even go well past that point
into the territory of deep fetishes. If, where you live, you are underage
to read this kind of material, or this material will be unlawful for you to
read regardless of your age, I'm sorry but please leave now. If you are
offended by gay sex, then fuck off this isn't intended for you, besides why
are you browsing around here anyway? If this story is the kind of thing
that pleases you and/or gets your juices flowing, then enjoy it with my
blessings

Chp. 8

Viktor continues

Viktor Alexievich

Once the last pair of rebels were dispatched and our ropes and hand cuffs
were removed, we headed back towards Kandahar. The murderer and his boy
were brought with us. I knew where his villa was. Like all the homes of the
wealthy in Afghanistan, there were few openings into the street and any
that there were, would have been equipped with heavy steel shutters. I knew
this man's house. It was a fortress facing out and place within. It would
provide the perfect setting for his destruction.

I sent a detachment of four men ahead with instructions to occupy the
house, empty it of any locals and seal all the outward facing shutters. We
entered his house and went to the garden at its center. The would-be rebel
leader was tied by his wrists between two of the columns in his garden. He
was standing with his arms pulled away from his body. I instructed the
sergeant to have a soldier pass a stout piece of rope through his mouth and
tie it behind his head. He wouldn't be able to speak, but he would be able
to scream, and I wanted to hear him scream, and watch him weep.

Once the "sacred warrior" was secured, I had his boy brought in and said to
him, "I have been told that the ultimate shame an Afghan man can be given
is if another man takes his wife or his boy. Before we are through here
every member of my unit is going to use you. They will use both of your
holes again and again. If you refuse or bit down on any of my men, I
personally will skin you and your "protector" alive. You will both live for
hours in unspeakable agony as I cut and rip, and cut and rip again removing
your lovely soft skin. Then just as I judge that you are about to die, I'll
reach down, grab your bag and cut it free from your body. I'll tan the bag
and make a tobacco pouch of it and have your balls with my breakfast
eggs. You have seen what I'm capable of doing out on that rocky plain -
Your "protector" murdered my sergeant and it is my intent to make him
suffer before I execute him. It is your very bad luck to be the best means
I have to inflict suffering on him.

You are going to be repeatedly raped in both your holes. That is fact. That
will happen. It is for you to decide whether your rapes are one long agony
for you or you learn to enjoy being used by strong stalwart Soviet
soldiers. But, whether you decide to enjoy it or not, it is going to
happen. You will be tethered by a rope around your neck to a spike driven
into the ground. If you attempt to remove your rope collar, or if I only
think you're attempting to remove your rope collar, I will have you
flogged. I would so hate to damage that beautiful skin of yours but that
will be entirely up to you. He had been standing before me , naked with his
hands still bound behind him. The whole time I'd been talking to him, I'd
been running my hands all over his body. It really was beautiful, there
were the beginnings of manly muscles to be felt beneath the soft velvety
skin of youth. If he survived the next couple of days, he might grow into a
real beauty. As I was enjoying the feel of him beneath my hands, he stood
quietly, occasionally shivering like a nervous colt.

I called the young sergeant to me and had him muster the men. "Sergeant,
make sure that every window's shutters are closed and bolted from within
and that every door's shield is closed and bolted, then close and bolt the
doors from the inside and report the completion of these instructions back
to me." He took some men and we could hear shutters crashing closed all
over the house, then the deeper booms as the door shields were closed and
secured.

In short order the sergeant and his detail returned and rejoined the
formation. "Sergeant, I want a rope collar on this rebel attached to two
meters of rope. The opposite end of the rope is to be secured to a spike
and the spike driven into the ground in the garden. Before that happens,
take the rebel and make him move his bowels and piss, I don't want good
Soviet soldiers to have to deal with any rebel's piss and shit. Once he's
been emptied and staked out in the garden he is to be used as a cum dump by
every man in this unit. They may use either of his holes or both of them,
and as often as they wish. As a reward for your performance today, and for
the performance of the private with the "miraculous grip" you and he are to
be the first to use this pig. One thing more, set a watch at the front and
back doors and warn the soldiers there that if I find them slacking in
their duty and therefore imperiling their comrades, I'll stake them out in
the place of this rebel and let him use them."

If I may interject again, General? Women are so tightly controlled in
Afghanistan that our soldiers had no access to the release a man, most
particularly a young man, needs. The Command knew that many, even most,
soldiers eventually ended up turning to their comrades for that release,
but turned a blind eye. As long as they were getting relief from someone
that was really all that mattered.

Thank you, Sir. Now to return to my narrative. The rebel was taken to where
he'd been accustomed to empty his bowels and bladder and ordered to do
both. While there his escort of soldiers found the equipment he had used to
wash out his insides for his "protector." They forced him to administer
four full cleansings to himself.

He was then brought back to the garden, being pulled along by his hempen
leash. A number of my men had removed their tunics while they awaited his
return. None of the soldiers got completely naked, but many went naked from
the waist up. Even with only that much showing, they were all splendid
examples of young Soviet masculinity. Their ages ranged from the youngest
who'd only recently turned eighteen to the eldest who were grizzled
veterans of around twenty-three or four.

Those not on duty guarding the house and their mates within it were now
gathered in the garden. The very air there palpated to the beat of
anticipated sex. You could taste it on the air.

The rebel who was to be their whore was brought into the garden, his hands
still bound behind him. I stood there awaiting him. His escort shoved him
forward and he fell fully onto his belly and face into the soft flowers of
the garden. He looked up at me, fear and resignation etched in bold relief
across his face. "Rebel, " I told him, "Only a few hours ago, you and your
mates were lying in wait in the rocks hoping to surprise and kill my men,
these men, and me. You have earned severe punishment, even execution, by
your behavior. But because treating you as our whore, our cum dump, would
humiliate and degrade your "mentor" that will be your punishment. If in any
way you offer any resistance or attempt either to hurt any one of my men or
to escape, you will be maimed and tortured, not to the release of death,
but to and through the gates of insanity. I am going to order that your
hands be unbound. You may need them to pleasure my men. Use them against
any Soviet soldier and I will order every bone in each hand crushed and
reduced to fragments. One time only, I ask, do you understand?"

The rebel bobbed his head "Yes." I turned to the sergeant and said, "He's
all yours, Sergeant, enjoy him." Then I noticed that the sergeant was fully
clothed. The sergeant saw the quizzical look on my face and before I could
speak, he said, "Lieutenant, I am responsible, under you, for the safety
and well being of the men and of this entire unit. While I thank you, Sir,
for having placed me at the head of the line, my understanding of my duty
demands that I wait and keep watch over the unit. I have given my place to
the brave soldier who was struck by a shard of rock just below his
eye. Then, if it meets with your approval, Sir, I've assigned the next two
places to his two fellow decoys, as a small reward for their willingness to
sacrifice themselves for the good of the unit. The rest will follow in the
order of their seniority." I answered, "Approved. That is exactly what our
late murdered sergeant would have done. I intend to recommend all three of
our decoys for medals. Until the medals arrive, your idea seems a good way
to recompense them."

I guess my fatigue had begun to show because he next said, "Sir, if you
will be kind enough to follow me, I have found the master bedroom and the
men and I would be honored if you'd take that room for yourself. Perhaps we
could bring the rebel to you there first and then when you've finished
using him in his master's bed we could bring him back here to the garden?"

I told him, "I will use him too, but later. What I really want now is to
sleep for about two hours. Besides when I take him I want to savor his pain
and degradation. I'll take him last. In the meantime, I'd be grateful if
you'd take me to that bedroom you mentioned. I'd really be glad of two
hours rest, then I'll relieve you and you will be able to rest." "Yes, Sir,
if you'll follow me, I'll take you there," he responded.

As we went up the outside stairs I could see that the rebel had been placed
on his hands and knees. One soldier was on his back resting on his elbows,
his trousers down to his knees while under his instructions, the naked
rebel was using his tongue to wash the sweat and stink of a day spent
marching and fighting and marching again from his balls. Another soldier,
the one with the wound below his eye was lining up his cock with the rebels
ass hole. I stopped for a moment to witness the instant of penetration for
that Soviet soldier was packing a weapon equally as impressive as any
Kalashnikov. For just a second or two my hormones almost won out over my
exhaustion, but in the end after hearing the squeal of pain from the rebel,
I turned my face back towards the upstairs gallery and my waiting sergeant.

Andre Vasilievich

As the major reached this point in his narrative, I quietly picked up the
phone and rang the reception desk. "Enter now as you were instructed," was
all I said. It was all I needed to say. Gently, quietly I cradled the phone
and the door opened noiselessly. Pavel entered, closed the door and
silently went to "his" corner and stripped naked. He then came and stood at
attention beside and facing my chair.

The major had been staring at a point above my head during his entire
monologue. Reliving his memories was such an intense experience for him
that I believe he didn't immediately register Pavel's arrival. While Pavel
remained at attention on my right, I was able while resting my elbow on the
arm of the chair, to raise my hand, pivoting on the elbow and his scrotum
fit perfectly into my hand. I sat there listening to the major and
manipulating Pavel's balls. I've always enjoyed the velvety smoothness of
the wrinkled skin of a healthy youthful scrotum and you Pavel's was
certainly a pleasure to play with. And, while I did like the strawberry
blonde color of his pubic hair on closer inspection, such as I was now
conducting, it seemed that the overall esthetic experience for the viewer
would be enhanced were his ball sack to be entirely hairless and smooth.

I hate shaving in that area as very soon thereafter stubble begins and it
becomes an irritant so I made a decision that later this evening Pavel and
I would have a session with some tweezers. I would pluck every hair growing
on his scrotal sac. It might be an uncomfortable experience for him, but I
would enjoy both the experience and the result so since my pleasure was all
that mattered, that was what was going to happen.

I hadn't played with his cock at all, but in a matter of only a couple of
minutes or less, all of Pavel was standing at attention. I encircled the
top of his bag with my fingers and gently pulled down. It did not deflate
his cock but did, for the immediate future stop his youthful march toward
ejaculation.

The major continued his recitation and I continued absentmindedly playing
with my slave. It was at this point that I decided that when the major got
to the part of his story where he executed the fat merchant, I would send
Pavel to kneel before him, suck the major's cock down his throat and drain
his nuts. After all what better way to begin a working relationship than by
having one's slave suck an orgasm out of one's new associate?

Viktor Alexievich continues

The sergeant brought me to a large room on the second floor with windows
and a door facing the courtyard/gallery. I hadn't realized how tired I'd
been until I crossed the threshold of the room. I'm afraid that I stumbled
and might have fallen but for my sergeant who caught me. He took charge,
brought me to the bed and removed my tunic. By the time I'd fought back to
a grudging control of my body, he'd removed my boots, socks, trousers,
tunic and undershirt. I was sitting there on the side of the bed in nothing
but my under shorts. I began to protest, but the sergeant knelt before so
he could look up into my face. "Please, Sir, I was the student of my
predecessor. He was training me, trying to make me a worthy successor to
him and all sergeants before him. The men and I have seen how deeply his
murder hurt you. Today, seeing your grief, your men learned to love you. I
know better than they what his loss means to you. He, like any good
teacher, told me everything. And, then having told me, he made me
practice. I'm going to put you to sleep the same way he did."

I tried to protest, but he just placed a hand gently in the middle of my
chest and slowly, pushed me back onto the bed. Somehow as I went down he
managed to get my underpants off me. To my shock and horror, I had a raging
hard-on and had been leaking. My skin was pulled back and about three
quarters of the head was exposed.

My natural lubricant was flowing freely and seemed to be all over the head
and shaft of my cock and running like a river in flood through my pubic
bush and down onto my scrotum. The sergeant quickly removed his tunic and
bending over me began laving my bag, bush and working his way up, my
cock. He had learned his lessons well. By the time he got to the top of my
cock I was ready to beg him to take me inside his mouth. But, he didn't
make me beg. He hesitated for a moment to build the tension leading to the
instant of immersion when my cock was vacuumed into his warm, moist loving,
yes, loving, healing mouth. I had had blow jobs before, many blow jobs.

The new sergeant was right. Beginning shortly after the unit's arrival in
Afghanistan his predecessor had, on his own initiative, begun coming into
my room every night and "sucked me to sleep." He and I would hold "last
muster" with the men and then turn their lights out. Then he'd escort me to
my room. The first time he'd done it, I thought he was just coming in to
discuss something about the unit or perhaps a particular man or two. I had
not initiated it. It had been entirely his idea. On the night when it first
happened, I'd been exhausted and hadn't realized that he'd entered my room
behind me. I had an erection and had just decided to allow it to "wither on
the vine" because I wanted sleep more than I wanted to work out an orgasm.

I turned to close the door and there he'd been. His hand immediately found
my erection and within seconds the little head had surrendered bringing me
along with it. When after each of the first several times, I'd tried to
tell him that his blow jobs had to stop, the Army wouldn't like it. He
would stand before me and say, "Sir, the Army entrusts its new lieutenants
to us sergeants to care for them, training them to be officers and making
men of them. I'm not going to fail the army, I'm not going to fail the
sergeant who trained me, I'm not going to fail my men, and I'm not going to
fail you, Sir. I know what you need even if you don't, or can't admit
it. Besides, Sir, in this god awful country what other method is there that
is safer for a young officer to keep the most productive of his endocrine
glands healthy and drained? Then he'd grabbed my crotch and in only seconds
my cock would betray me and go over to his side again. Before long I was
well and thoroughly trained or least had stopped putting up an argument and
just let him lower my hormone levels for me.

The new sergeant had been carefully and well prepared to step fully into
the job he now held. With a mixture of joy and guilt I had an orgasm that
took my entire being. I shook like a leaf in a hurricane. Perspiration
broke out all over my body. I may even have whimpered like a
child. Somebody in that room whimpered If it wasn't me then it had to have
been the sergeant.

As my nerve endings were attempting to return to normal, the young sergeant
sucked my cock clean, being sure to tongue out under my skin. He then used
a cloth he'd gotten from somewhere and gently like a dotting mother dabbed
my body dry. He placed the pillow under my head and pulled a blanket up to
my chin. I was asleep before he got to the door..

I dreamt of my murdered sergeant. I saw him standing beside the bed
smiling. He knew his burden had been accepted by his successor and that he
could trust that I'd become the kind of officer he'd been training me to
be. When I thought of my feelings of guilt over letting myself be brought
to so shattering an orgasm just hours after his death, he threw his head
back and laughed. He shook his head gently and smiled at me, letting me
realize that this was just one of the contingencies for which he'd
prepared. And, to the degree that I felt I needed absolution - he granted
it with a laugh. I slept deeply and well and when awakened three hours
later, I was completely rested.

The sergeant had sent a private to waken me. He was an attractive youth
with pale skin, black hair and Mother Russia's blue eyes. Like any good
soldier his abdomen was flat and despite his uniform, his body looked
good. I had been sleeping naked, under the blankets. In my post sleep fog,
I'd forgotten that I was naked and sat right up. I pivoted on my ass and
dropped my legs off the side of the bed. The blanket pulled away from my
body until only a very small corner of it remained right over my
crotch. The private certainly was enjoying the impromptu strip show he was
getting. It was only when I registered his pleasure that I realized how
close to total nudity I had come. He knew his place and did not make any
advances, but to one who could read another man's reactions, he was laid
open like an old book. Actually, his reaction began to process within my
mind that developed into a plan, a training system that eventually I'd put
into action with startlingly successful results.

I awoke with a huge erection despite the sergeant's tenderly delivered
"sleeping aid." The private could not keep his eyes off the evidence of my
erection being broadcast by the lump in the blanket where it overlay my
crotch. He was damn nearly salivating.

Laughing, I shoved him from the room and dressed. By the time I was back in
my uniform, my erection had largely, but not completely deflated. While I
put my tunic back on, I hadn't bothered to button it closed.  I walked out
onto the gallery on the second floor and looked into the garden. The
murderer of my sergeant was still tied between the same two columns. He had
spent the past three hours watching his protégé servicing a troop of
his Union's finest soldiers. The son of a bitch had actually thrown an
erection! The boy's body was such a turn on for him that he seemed to no
longer mind that the boy he was supposed to protect and love was being
serially raped again and again. I called the sergeant over. "Sergeant, have
you used the rebel yet?" I asked. "Thank you, Sir, I have. It's been nearly
two weeks since I last ejaculated, I was certainly primed for him. First, I
slammed into his ass using no lubricant, but the first two pairs had
already been there. So, their ejaculate made for a wonderfully slimy
lubrication. I'm afraid I didn't last very long there. After I'd shot up
into his guts, I stuffed myself into his face and ordered him to clean me
off. Frankly, the only stuff on my cock was the semen deposited there by my
comrades. His mouth is very talented and in no time he had me hard
again. This time I was able to settle in and enjoy a nice slow fuck of his
face before I fed him a part of his afternoon meal. To tell you the truth,
Lieutenant, I believe that I could handle another go at his tonsils in a
few minutes."

I laughed, then gave him his orders. "Sergeant, the murderer of your
predecessor seems to be enjoying watching his boy's rapes. I've decided to
make it more personal for him. I want you to pick a detail of men and send
them out to the market place and into the houses that surround this
house. Have them collect the beggars, the ugly, the low class and the very
poor plus the male residents who live in close proximity to this house. I
want sixteen to twenty picked up. They are to be brought back here, strip
searched, then allowed to dress again, but only in their underpants. Then
they are to be kept in the salon off the front door. The "recruiting
detail" is then to keep them under guard until I return. After you pick the
detail, give them their orders and send them out, you are to report to the
same room where I had my nap. There you are to strip, climb into the bed
and sleep. These are not suggestions, Sergeant. They are
orders. . .dismissed." He snapped to attention, saluted and hurried off to
comply with his orders.

The young rebel was entertaining a defender of the Soviet homeland at both
of his holes. The soldier using his mouth had a firm grip on his ears and
the rebel had reached up and was massaging the soldier's ball sack. I stood
off to the side to allow the rebel to see me and know that I was watching
him. It had seemed that he'd been doing a good enough job before, but after
he saw me, I noticed that his head seemed to move a bit more
energetically. He was leaking good Soviet semen from his ass as it was
being plowed and a stream of lubrication was dripping from the head of his
not fully erect cock.

In my peripheral vision, I saw the sergeant instructing the team he'd put
together, then as I watched he took them to the front door which was
unbolted to allow for their exit. I could tell that he wanted to go with
the team, but any good leader has to encourage his men to perform without
his presence. As the door boomed shut and the bolt was shot home, he turned
and seemed for the first time to show signs of weariness. He trudged up the
stair. When he reached the upstairs gallery, his training overcame his
weariness and he stood for a minute or two studying the activity
below. Seeing it to be as it should, he turned and headed for the bed
chamber.

I found the private with the "miracle grip." He's been resting on a garden
bench enjoying the show the young rebel was inadvertently providing. In
fact, it looked to me as though the private was "recharging his batteries"
and might be considering another go at the rebel. I beckoned him to come to
me and was pleased to see the alacrity with which he returned to his
military demeanor. He presented himself before me, braced to attention,
saluted and then awaited my orders. I told him, "Private, this unit will
shortly have a vacancy for a junior sergeant as I intend to recommend that
our current junior sergeant step into the shoes of our murdered comrade. I
am thinking strongly of recommending you for that promotion." He managed to
grow even straighter at attention. There was the suggestion of a smile
around his lips which quickly gave way to a most serious military
expression. "I have sent the sergeant to rest for a bit, he's no good to me
if he's exhausted. I have yet some things to do that should take me around
a half hour. While I'm gone you are in command. Make sure the men on guard
at the doors remain vigilant. There's a recon team out in the town. They'll
be coming back reasonably soon. They have their orders. When they've
brought their local "volunteers" in, stripped them, searched them, searched
their clothing and allowed them to put their underpants back on, their
volunteers are then to be kept in the salon, under close guard until I
arrive there. Neither the sergeant nor I are to be disturbed. Do you
understand your orders?"

He indicated that he'd understood and would to the best of his ability
carry them out. "Oh, I almost forgot," I said, as I turned to leave, "the
rape of the rebel is to continue until every member of this unit has had
his fill, or to be more accurate until the rebel can no longer coax any
more good Soviet semen from my soldiers." "Yes, Sir," he answered.

I turned and ascended the staircase to the gallery overlooking the
garden. I looked down into the garden and could see that all was as it
should be.

General, I had decided to implement a military ideal utilized by one of the
most successful military units in history. If I was right (and later events
have proven that me to have been), then I was about to build the most tight
knit, formidable unit of soldiers the world has seen in the last three
thousand years. I was going to reach back into antiquity to the example of
Sparta and after them of great Alexander, himself. I had decided to create
a completely self-sufficient team of fighting men. They would be taught
absolute loyalty to each other individually and to the unit in
generally. The Spartans achieved their results by stressing two things;
physical preparedness in bodies trained and honed to knife edge perfection
and the kind of dedication that men give only to someone they have learned
to love.

Yes, General, when I was finished every man would be as perfect physically
as I could train him to be and he would know unquestionably that his
comrades were too. He would also know that he could trust his life to his
comrades because they would also be his lovers. The Spartans had fielded an
army of pairs of lovers, theorizing that no man would give less than his
absolute best because he'd be unable to stand it if he disgraced himself
before his lover. I decide to take that concept one step further and make
each man in the unit every man's lover.

He would then have a vested interest in the opinion and welfare of every
other man in his unit. I walked out of the gallery and into the bed chamber
to begin the process by giving my new sergeant the same kind of gift he'd
so recently given me. I entered the room quietly. The sergeant's uniform
was neatly folded and resting on the room's only chair - right where I'd
left mine so recently. He was lying flat on his back, the blanket pulled up
only to his waist. His abdomen and chest were laid out there a playground
for my eyes. His body was taut and tight, but he still had the soft velvet
skin of youth. I had thought I'd been quiet, but I must have made some
small noise because at about the same time I noticed the beginning of a
tenting of the bedding over his crotch, I also became aware that his eyes
were open and he was looking at me.

When we made eye contact, he made as if to get out of the bed. With a hand
gesture I stopped him. "Sergeant," I said to him, "just a few hours ago,
you gave me a great gift and after your gift I was able to sleep like a
baby. I am not an unfeeling, ungrateful asshole. I have come to return your
gift. We are comrades, we have fought together and will fight together
again, but as real comrades who have learned to care passionately for each
other and for the other men in our unit. I am going to mold this unit into
the most fearsome cohesive body of fighting men the wold has seen since
Alexander trod these hills and plains. As your Comrade I cannot order you
to accept my gift, but as your Comrade I can hope that you will accept
it. As both your comrade and your commander, I hope you will join in
partnership with me and help me build this unit into what I know we can
become."

"Lieutenant," he said, "I'm honored by your confidence and your gift. I
accept the gift you bring and the offer of comradeship and challenge you
have presented. All I ask is that if I ever fail in my responsibilities to
the unit or to you, that you will immediately put a bullet in my brain." He
then lay back as I approached the bed. I lowered the bedding to the foot of
the bed, past his feet. I had laid him bare from his head to the soles of
his feet. His cock was rigid and leaking his clear lubricant into a pool
centered on his navel. I extended my finger into the pool, wetted it
thoroughly then brought it to my mouth to taste. It was almost completely
tasteless except for the slightest suggestion of sweetness.

I reached down and gathering his nut sack into my hands weighed his
balls. They felt good in my hand and I could tell that he found the
sensation pleasing too, as at that moment a large dollop of his clear juice
plopped out and onto his abdomen. I leaned forward and inhaled his
scent. He smelled of young man and sex. I found that scent intoxicating. I
licked out with my tongue and tasted his balls, first one then the other. I
let my tongue trace up the length of his cock and just as I arrived at the
head another large dollop of his juice was delivered. I did not allow it to
fall, but sucked it directly into my mouth, savoring his essence.

Holding his cock in my hand I looked up to his face. It was a mask of
wonder, joy and happiness. The knowledge that I was able to bring these
sensations to another gave me a huge feeling of power and awe. Quickly, I
leaned forward and vacuumed his navel, wiping it clean with my tongue.

We didn't have the kind of time I would have liked to have for a slow and
caring build up. We were soldiers on maneuvers and there were things that
needed doing, so I returned to his cock and licked it's length making sure
to drink down any new offerings of his juices as they arrived. In no time I
had him twitching on the bed, whimpering.

But, I am a merciful man, General and brought his cock into my mouth and
began to slide my head up and down on it. He was delicious. As my mouth
rode his cock my hands kneaded his balls in their sweet sack. In just a few
short minutes he was trying to shoot the back of my head off with his
bullets of semen as they rocketed out of his cock. Now, I had his most
intimate product, I was being offered the glory of his most private gift. I
accepted it greedily and sucked it down as if afraid that he'd take it back
and I'd have none. With each volley his entire body twitched, his back
arched up off the bed and it was all he could do to stifle his urge to
shout, to celebrate his maleness. At that moment, I fell in love with the
first of my soon to be many lovers/comrades.

As he came down from his euphoria, I pulled the blankets up slowly. I had
kept him still in my mouth. I didn't want to miss any of the last drips and
drops as they made their way up his sweet tube. Finally, I cleaned him with
my tongue and then covered him with the bedding and left him to sleep.

End of chp. 8