Date: Thu, 18 Mar 2010 09:43:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: R Ranger <bn2rumpranger (at) yahoo (dot) com>
Subject: Christmas Cocks Chapter 32

Warning! This story is a work of erotic fiction written for the purpose of
pure entertainment. The story contains sexually explicit behavior between
consenting males. If you are not of legal age to read such material or are
offended by this type of writing do not read any further.

To contact the author cut and paste the following e-mail addresses making
appropriate corrections:

E-mail: bn2rumpranger "at" yahoo "dot" com     Subject line: Christmas Cocks.

Christmas Cocks
By The Rumpranger

Chapter 32: Time For Meditation and Precum

Well into the afternoon at Fort Sam I continued to slouch on the brown
leather loveseat located in the company dayroom. I was depressed and been
so since learning about Mike's murder. Deep into thought with my left leg
hung over the end of the furniture. The television continued droning on one
mindless show after another, while I was thinking about Mike and how I'd
gotten into this predicament. Since my arrest all I had was idle time on my
hands to contemplate my fate.

I wished that the 1SG had some detail or job for me. With a pillow propping
up my upper body my left hand was buried well into my Army pants petting my
cock and caressing my balls. My fingers were subtly exploring every
sensuous millimeter of my steely rod. I recalled how Mike used to
compliment me on the beauty of my cock, flaccid or fully erect, as had
others before him. He was taken with how the stood at attention.

Mike told me that my erect penis reminded him of a cock scepter of regal
grandeur with its bejeweled crown, pointing towards the sky with a slight
curve back towards my abdomen. He was drawn to my prominent pink cockhead
that adorned the top of my scepter, spending much time caressing and
lapping at it with his tongue. I never got tired of him telling me that my
cockhead was the most beautiful glans he'd ever seen.

Since my youthful days of show and compare with other boys I'd become
accustom to such compliments about the comeliness of my cock, especially
the knob. From what I'd seen I'd been blessed with an extraordinarily good
looking cock. Now, I hadn't been blessed with the biggest piece of meat in
the market, but it was more than adequate. A couple of my cousins as well
as a high school friend definitely had me beat when it came to size, but
I'd come to discover over time that size isn't everything. In fact,
sometimes a cock that is too big can adversely impact a sexual
relationship.

As I thought about these things I was absent-mindedly playing with my
steely hard cock, softly caressing the spongy head of it. I was mulling my
situation with regard to my departed companion and lover. I wished that
Mike was still around to hold me and stroke me to fruition. I hadn't had
any quality time to grieve my loss.

I'd been locked up since my arrest immediately after returning to Fort Sam
from Christmas leave; therefore, was unable to attend Mike's funeral. I'm
sure considering the circumstances and the unflattering accusations made by
Mike's father that I would not have been welcome at his full military honor
memorial and burial service. I kept asking myself, was the ban on gays in
the military really worthwhile? Did that ban and the fact that Mike and I
were a gay couple living together play any part in his death?

Only a handful of people knew Mike and I were, in fact, a gay couple living
together. Most people we associated with thought we were simply off base
roommates and that is what I'd told the Army investigators and police. I
knew there was some reason early on in our relationship that we each had
our own bedroom although I didn't sleep in mine but a handful of times. In
my short amount of time in the Army I'd heard and seen much in the way of
negative attitude and behavior directed towards soldiers and civilians
suspected of being gay by other soldiers.

Even though it violated certain rules straight soldiers enjoyed sitting
around making up or passing on the slur ridden jokes and stories about gay
guys. Many times directing the slurs towards civilians or soldiers they
suspected were homosexual. I often wondered, was this a ploy to get some
type of pissed off reaction out of the guys or gals they presumed to be
gay, or was it to cover their own misguided sexual identity.

The anti gay behavior wasn't born in the military; it was something
soldiers brought with them from their civilian culture, and was fostered by
an anti gay sentiment in the military. I remember the same types of
attitude and behavior from my high school days growing up in the
conservative religious culture of the Midwest.

Hell, my cousins, friends and I discovered the pleasures of sexual contact
when we were kids around ten or eleven. Once we found the pleasure of
touching another boy's hard penis it was over for us. We were tempted and
succumbed to the sins of the flesh. More often than not the devil wins out
when you're a kid and with the devil onboard you indulge in sinful play
with each other because all is forgiven when you went to church.

Of course we all had been taught in Sunday school and church that
homosexuality and even sex outside marriage was a sinful act, but we
couldn't resist the temptations of the flesh and the pleasure that came
with it. Our parents told us not to let another touch us in the private
area of our body and for us to refrain from playing with Mr. Penis. Any
time a parent tells you not to do something that's a signal to try it.

Yes, my parents called it Mr. Penis or Peter in our birds and the bees
talk. I heard the penis referred to by uncles and grandfathers as peter,
pecker and prick. I think I got the "talk" about the time I was nine or ten
years old. By that time I'd already had a memorable erection and it felt
great to play with that firm little pecker. I recall the first time I
measured my penis.

I stole my mom's measuring tape from her sewing basket. Then my cousin and
I measured each other's peckers. My first measurement was a little less
than three inches in length and approximately the thickness of one of the
breakfast sausages mom used to cook up. That first secret session took
place in the closet of my bedroom using a flashlight to illuminate
darkness.

Our young sexual encounters and experimenting was always done in secret and
remain so today. Anything sinful was done secretly. Anytime we boys got
together we couldn't wait to steal away to some secret location where we
could enjoy caressing and touching each other in a sensual manner. At some
early point during my mental masturbation session my hand found its way
inside my Army issue pants targeting my manhood. This was a behavior
developed back in my high school days.

Any time I needed to ponder on a situation, study or just be alone I found
my hand buried inside my pants. Other boys did the same. During those early
years of sexual exploration I quickly discovered it always felt so much
better to have another person jerk me off than do it myself. Once we began
comparing cocks and other bodily attributes there was envy on the part of
some boys.

The green-eyed monster would rear its head at times during our initial
sexual play games. Such things as size of another boy's penis, flaccid and
erect, would spark jealous comments and cat calls. Size was monumental
during our youthful years for some reason. This seemed to be especially
true for the differences in a boy's flaccid size. Because slack was the way
we viewed our peers on a daily basis at school in showers after physical
education. I quickly discovered the deceit of the flaccid penis when I saw
some of the smaller limp guys erect. They became very large when erect.

Erections were mysterious and intriguing for me as a boy. I would marvel at
how big that small little pecker became when erect. Of course erections
could be embarrassing. Other issues that brought about comments from peers
were who could shoot the furthest, the volume or who had or did not have
pubic hair as we began to entry puberty. Then came the circle jerks.

Generally these secretive sessions took place with older boys. Mutual
masturbation which was quite common among boys eventually led some of us
pairing off to orally pleasure each other.

Most of the time when we first began having oral sex it was done in the
sixty-nine position. This meant that both parties were consenting and would
do each other simultaneously. You see there was deep seated fear among us
boys that if only one party went down on the other then the receiver
wouldn't pay him back in kind, but the biggest fear was that the receiver
might rat out the giver telling others that the giver was a queer.

Queer or faggot was not a label which any young boy wanted to be tagged
with as a kid growing up. Of course that's true for many adolescents and
adults. Yes, during those youthful years paranoia ran live and well among
us boys that were sexually active with each other. We feared being caught,
but moreover we felt the pleasure of it all was worth the gamble. From that
first touch of pleasure it was Katie bar the door.

Another important thing that is worth mentioning is the fact that there was
nothing romantic during these secret rendezvous: we just lusted after pure
pleasure of the flesh and release. For me there was nothing more awesome
and sensuous than having another person jerk me off or suck my cock.

The first time I got my cock sucked as a boy was indescribable. I think it
was a cross between watching my first horror movie and the fourth of July
fireworks celebration. In my opinion, this experimental period of time
during a young boy's life is not necessarily a period that defines him as a
homosexual, but rather a period of discover and experimentation. And then
when we discovered that we could produce semen that was a day with
different meanings to different boys. Some boys entered puberty producing
that mysterious sticky substance earlier than others.

My fingers could feel the precum beginning to flow from my piss
slit. Between all the thought about my younger days and playing with my
genitals was sexually exciting me. My body was producing a slight smell of
sex that was lightly permeating the air in the confines of the dayroom. My
nipples had grown hard from arousal and were budding through my tan
T-shirt. They were hard enough to cut glass.

As I thought about my youthful days my precum coated finger was circling
around the super sensitive purple ring of my cockhead. I kept was rubbing
the leakage from the piss slit over the crown and around the ring. Oh God,
that felt so good. My glans was so sensitive to touch. I sensed that I was
close to blowing a load. I hadn't had a decent orgasm since Christmas leave
with my cousins and I needed to unload.

All I'd done since being arrested was secretly masturbate a few times while
fantasizing about sexual situations involving Mike and my cousins. As my
breathing became more labored I was about ready to take leave of my spot on
the loveseat and head towards the latrine where I would rub one out.

Suddenly, I was brought back to reality. I heard voices outside. I looked
up at the clock and saw it was almost time for evening chow. I couldn't
believe I been in the dayroom all afternoon meditating and playing with my
cock. What was more unbelievable was that I hadn't shot a load in my
drawers.

The door burst open. I pulled my hand out of my pants and sat upright in
time to see the 1SG appear behind me saying, "This is off the record
Specialist Masten, but it looks as though you're off the hook. The police
have captured Sgt Alvarez's killer. He's in custody in San Antonio where
he's being questioned."

"Who, where?" was all I could squeak out trying to act nonchalant reaching
for my ACU jacket laying on the far end of the loveseat, while trying to
hide the noticeable bulge in my camouflage Army pants as the 1SG moved
around in front of me.

"According to my sources there will be a news conference sometime tomorrow,
probably late morning down in San Antonio. They will announce the arrest
and also announce that you are no longer a suspect or connected in anyway
with the murder. Until then you're going to be placed under lock and
key. So, from this moment on you won't be allowed to talk to anyone until
the announcement is made. The MP detail from the Provost Marshall's office
is on the way to take you into protective custody `till tomorrow," the 1SG
said smiling down at me.

I sat there stunned by the 1SG's revelation saying, "Where?" Hoping the 1SG
hadn't gotten a whiff of the sex that was in the air.

That was all I got out of my mouth before I heard the door of the dayroom
burst open again. Two burly stony-faced Military Police officers, one a
Sergeant First Class and the other a Staff Sergeant, neither of whom I'd
met before entered the room confronting me. The SFC said, "We're from the
Provost Marshall's office. We're head of the security detail here for
Specialist Donald Masten. We're here to take him into custody."

"That's me," I said raising my hand in a meek manner not wanting to piss
off the two gorillas.

"Come on Specialist on your feet let's go," the older Sergeant growled as I
got to my feet. I turned around putting my hands behind me surrendering to
the cops, but neither MP made a move to handcuff me as had been the
protocol in the past.

"Where am I going?" I asked grabbing my ACU jacket and headgear off the
loveseat.

"Your attorney and the PM have ordered you placed in protective custody
until tomorrow Specialist," the Staff Sergeant barked, "that's all you need
to know."

With that said I put on my Army jacket and beret. Then I was abruptly
whisked from the dayroom with an MP on each side of me to an awaiting Chevy
Suburban. I heard the 1SG say as we exited, "You take good care of that boy
he's been through enough hell," wagging his finger at the two cops.

God, I couldn't believe it, there was actually a person in the Army who
cared about me and my well-being. I rode in silence as the MP detail
transported me to post transient lodging facility where I would be
sequestered until the next morning. Once secured in my room my security
detail ask me if there were any personal items I needed. I replied, "Sure,
I'd like a clean uniform, change of the underwear, socks and my toiletry
items that are back in my company area."

I hadn't a chance to get anything before I was abruptly brought to the
lodge. I needed to shower and change clothing before meeting the political
power-brokers in San Antonio, Army brass and my attorney tomorrow.

"Okay, we'll have the new guy that's coming on duty stop by your unit to
pick your personal items and uniform," the senior NCOs said as they
prepared to leave me in the room.

Of course before the two Army cops departed the Staff Sergeant shook me
down for my cell phone hidden in my ACUs. The other one called the desk to
make sure that I couldn't place any out going calls or receive any
unauthorized incoming calls. The Military Police reminded me that I was to
stay put for the night and that there was a guard just outside and then
they departed.