Date: Mon, 29 Oct 2012 09:29:07 -0700 (PDT)
From: Vincent Salerno <v_salerno@yahoo.com>
Subject: Army Days-Advanced Training;  nifty/gay/military

			     Advanced Training

After basic, I went home on furlough, and then was sent down south for some
advanced training.  My new base was an improvement over the strict,
confining days of Basic.  There was more free time and fewer rules.  After
daily classes I was free to read, take a walk around the post, go the PX,
buy a (watered down) beer or a cheeseburger, even go to a movie on the
weekend.  The guys selected for advanced training were, in general, easier
for me to relate to.  There were more middle class and college educated
guys here than I had run into thus far in the Army. I made several friends.


I thoroughly enjoyed the nudity prevalent in the barracks.  I remember one
great looking guy who made it a practice to parade bareass around the
barracks all the time.  He had a nice cock and a world class ass. He was
very macho in his manner, and would say things like: "No wo-man's got herr,
lock ma waff's herr." [Translation: "No woman's got hair like my wife's
hair."] One day while swaggering around the barracks totally nude, he
caught a young kid from Nebraska looking at his prime southern butt.

"Wha chu lukkin at fukk-er?"

"Nothin', nothin'," the kid said, reddening.

"Ah sow ya lukkin at ma aa-ss. Wal jes fuggetit. We cain't hev no
buttfuckin in this heah army, boy."

I continued to enjoy looking around, especially in the showers, but I was
always careful not to reveal the degree of my interest. Not everyone was
discreet.  A few bunks away from me, was a guy named Brooks who I came to
realize was gay.  Brooks had the top bunk, and his buddy named Ballantine
was in the bottom bunk.  Ballantine was a yokel from rural Texas, who
referred to a sport shirt with color coordinated slacks as "a suit."
Ballantine was forever carrying on about how he missed his pussy.  To hear
him tell it, he had a copious and constant supply of pussy at home and he
was dearly hurting.  I (and others) began to notice Brooks spending an
awful lot of time lying in the bottom bunk with Ballantine.  At first it
was assumed that they were helping each other with studying, but on my way
to the latrine one evening I noticed Brooks lying next to Ballantine and he
had his hand down Ballantine's shorts!  Neither man moved as I walked by.
Soon afterward I began to hear some whispers about these two.


Any remaining doubt was removed from my mind on the occasion of our first
weekend pass.  About a dozen of the guys in the same training unit, all
went to town and took a few hotel rooms, which we shared.  I ended up
sharing a room and double bed with a nice kid named Barry.  We had become
friends in the barracks.  Barry had joined up right after high school, and
was an easy going, eager-to-please young guy from the midwest.  He liked to
read letters from his girlfriend out loud to me.  He got a kick that
whenever he wrote a romantic, hot letter to her, she would respond in kind.
And when he sent a cool, newsy letter, she also would cool it in her
response.  It never occurred to me that Barry had any gay feelings at all.


As we checked in, I was standing near Ballantine and asked him if he wanted
to share a room.

"Nah, I think I'll, uh, hook up with Brooks, this time," Ballantine said.
Brooks, standing nearby, beamed silently.

Barry jumped in and offered to share with me.  We hadn't been in the room
more than 15 minutes when one of the bellmen was knocking on the door,
asking if we wanted some girls.  We laughed and said no.

"Oh, it's that kind of place! I've never stayed at a whorehouse before,"
said Barry.

Although not exactly a whorehouse, the hotel was a fleabag place that had
very liberal visiting rules. Soon after settling in, Barry, me and some of
the other guys headed out to look over the town.


Within a few hours we figured that we had seen all of Augusta that there
was to see, and settled into getting drunk at a local bar. I was amazed to
learn years later from a cyber-buddy on the net that he had some gay action
while stationed in Augusta.  Well, in those days, dick could have been
under my nose and I probably would have been too naïve, scared, and
innocent to pick up on it. It was St. Pat's weekend and the beer was green
and free flowing. We staggered back to the hotel after closing time, and
flopped onto our beds. I passed out soon after, andwoke up the next morning
with my legs wrapped around my buddy from Missouri.  We were face to face,
and pressed hard dick to hard dick with legs intertwined. We stayed that
way quite a while, as I remember, both obviously awake and enjoying the
human contact.

Eventually, we unwrapped ourselves, laughed, and said guess it was time to
go home to see our girlfriends. So, like my cyber buddy John, I suppose I
could have had some cock in Augusta too, if I hadn't been so stupidly
chickenshit.

But I'll bet anything that Brooks and Ballantine next door managed to get
to know each other a lot better, green beer or not. Although I would have
like to be a fly on the wall of their room, I guess that I would have
fallen off drunk anyway.