Date: Mon, 24 Jun 2002 15:55:38 +0800
From: paul sung <psun@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Marine Part 1

My Marine Part 1

DISCLAIMER
==========
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights
(copyright (c) 2002 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not
copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this
disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:
- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.
And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to
psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit
my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2000/Write.html


"Fuck you!"
Of course as usual that was my fondest wish come true but I certainly
hadn't imagined it happening this way. Being crushed against the cabin
floor by a hard, sweaty Playgirl fantasy come true with wild passion in
his dark eyes, his muscular, hairy arms trapping mine above my head while
he ravaged me - it sounded incredible last night while I lay hidden in a
desert tent wet and dreaming but the reality couldn't have been more
different. Sure, the man was hot as hell, hard as steel and rank with
musky man-sweat but he obviously didn't have any plans to fuck me hard on
the desert floor. More's the pity since I certainly wouldn't have
resisted if he had had any such ideas.
But with my luck, this particular stud was more likely to flatten me for
running away from him for the second time in the past two days. It was
just my luck to finally get a gorgeous Marine with the body of a god and
the face of an angel, a living, breathing Ken doll with muscles to boot -
and to have him wanting to tear my head off. Could God tempt me any more?
But a pretty face didn't mean that would make me anymore amenable to his
wishes. Initially when he'd come into the make-shift infirmary in
Kandahar, he'd been all shiny smiles, aw-shucks-how-ya-doin and general
good will. Oozing charm - and a more than healthy dose of testosteroney
sex appeal, he could get anyone to agree to anything. Except insane
contrary little me. Just because Marine Ken flashed that winsome smile at
me and made his orders sound like a favour didn't mean I had to follow
them. "Let me up!" I yelled at him. Yelled needlessly, I thought to
myself as I seriously doubted that he would listen since I'd deliberately
done the opposite of everything he'd said since we met. But I reminded
myself that it was all for a good cause.
Lieutenant Commander Michael Muldoon was no idiot and he stared back
coolly. The earlier rage that had fueled him as he'd torn down the door
seemed to have left him and he replied calmly. "And have you knee me in
the balls again, Doc? Not fucking likely."
Like I had any other recourse earlier. After all, the man stood at least
6 inches taller than my own 5'8" and he outweighed me by at least 50
pounds. All of it hard, testosterone-fueled muscle. Sure, I could have
put up quite a fight but frankly speaking, when he'd broken down the
cabin door with his bare hands, I knew I didn't stand a chance. One quick
thump from those fists would have knocked me over.
The fact that I'd managed to knee him in the groin was luck all by
itself. Just hope those big balls weren't too impaired. That would
totally spoil my midnight dream tryst.
Much too late, I put on my Boy Scout, choir-boy look and pleaded for some
shred of sympathy from the big bad SEAL. "I promise I won't run away
again."
The disbelieving snort he gave in response didn't bode well for me. "Not
good enough, doc. The last time we did this you gave me the same promise.
Sorry if I don't hold you to that."
"I had no choice," I said quietly. Although I knew it was of no use I
continued struggling under him. Although I knew it wouldn't make much of
a difference since I was all tied and trussed up. Damn the man knew his
knots.
"Stop." Cursing softly, he bore down hard against me and trapped my legs
under his heavy thighs. Crushing me with his weight his dark, handsome
face came right next to mine and he glared at me, barely inches away.
"We're not going through that argument again. How many times do I have to..."
Putting up a struggle was obviously not one of my best ideas. His very
proximity had my breath catching in my throat - and my dick which
remained ever hard in his presence started weeping precome. Damn. Just a
quick accidental turn and I'd be able to brush my lips against his. Press
hard against those amazingly firm yet soft-looking lips, run my tongue
past the gentle curve of his lips up to the dent made by the deep dimples
that bracketed his smile. Then down that heroic jaw to rub against his
bristly stubble. The man continued complaining about my inequities while
I ran my gaze down his powerful neck and wondered what he'd do if I bit
him right under his collarbone. If only he'd just stop talking long
enough for me to stick my tongue down his throat.
"Damn it." Those dark eyes flashed. "Are you listening at all?"
His voice stunned me and I managed to croak out a reply. "They were going
to kill her. I couldn't possibly..."
His strong hands crushed mine in a sudden rage. "You ran through enemy
fire into a bloody fucking camp to save a three year old girl. And nearly
got our asses fried in the process."
As he turned to take another deep, fortifying breath, his stubble brushed
against my freshly-shaven cheek and I felt a quick tingle. His warm
breath burned against the tip of my ear and he surprised me again. Who'd
have ever guessed. Mr Macho Marine and sweet, fresh minty breath. Made me
wanna swallow him whole. "You didn't have to come after me. I told you
guys to leave."
"Sorry but I didn't get that particular memo, doctor," he answered dryly,
gritting his teeth all the while. Would you know it, the man had perfect
teeth. Did they manufacture him in some dream god-hunk Marine camp? If
they did, could they pretty please send me one?
Sure, that attitude of his stank to high heaven but damn it, I'd still
let him fuck me. It was amazing how a year in the wilds of Afghanistan
without any sex could turn me into some stark-raving sex maniac. But then
again, I'm sure Michael Muldoon could make a straight-laced missionary
nun renounce her vows just with one look from those smouldering yum yum
bedroom eyes. Marine Ken with sex appeal. "No one asked you to come over
here to get me."
"I'm sorry but you're wrong there. The President himself ordered your
recovery and I'll be damned if I'll let you botch this chicken-shit op
up."
"I was perfectly fine here. Uncle George didn't have to-"
"The fact that you call the most powerful man in the world your uncle
answers everything." For the second time he bared his teeth again. I
could have sworn that he rained spit on my face as he answered. "You were
not fine. You're an American citizen in enemy territory. An idiot,
brainless do-gooder who decides to drop by fucking Afghanistan to be a
humanitarian!"
The quick barrage of fury left me non-plussed and before I could piece
together a decent rejoinder, he'd flipped me over his shoulder in a
quick, practised move. Like I hardly weighed anything more than a
feather. While I'd always hated macho he-man posturings from my
ex-boyfriends, I had to admit that this time it gave me a weird,
forbidden thrill. Like the first time I'd used a whip and chains on a
man. Though I made sure I hadn't left a mark, it had been secretly
thrilling to wield that much power over someone. Biting my lip, I
wondered briefly whether I had some closet Marquis de Sade tendencies. My
brain was already weaving various X-rated fantasies where my Marine Ken
was trapped naked and helpless under my power.
Silently, he picked up my things with his other hand and slipped out into
the night. As we moved away from the make-shift cabin, I looked back up
and ventured a question - my voice reduced to a mean whisper. "Hey, where
are you taking me?"
My question didn't stop him as he continued. "Someplace safe."
"Untie me and I'll walk." Although I had to admit, the view from up here
was spectacular. His broad, powerful back forming a perfect V with his
spine forming a deep valley through the center. And that butt. That
perfect, award-winning Muldoon butt looked even better up close and I had
to swallow an urge to bite. Hard. Twin, spectacularly sculpted globes of
tight, firm male ass with deep dents at the side, just about the size of
a man's hands - the perfect size for me to hold on to as he fucked me
till my head caved in.
"No."
Although I could have followed that amazing butt anywhere, that didn't
mean he had to know that. "It would be..."
"No."
"Muldoon." Although the idea of him carrying me sounded like heaven
especially since my feet were killing me, I knew it was impractical.
Though I was smaller in build, I certainly was no light weight. And with
my cock hard as a steel rod in my pants, it wouldn't be long before he
felt something. "Don't be ridiculous. I must weigh a ton. We'll move
faster if you..."
The quick smack on my butt silenced me.
The shock in my voice was evident -- as was the sudden burst of feeling
that shot straight into my cock. "D-did you just spank me?"
"Why?" Turning to me, his grin flashed white in the dark. "Did you enjoy
that, honey?"
The very fact that I most certainly did enjoy that certainly didn't give
him the rights to do so. Though if he'd just tear off those cammies and
give me a quickie, I'd certainly let him do whatever he liked. Right
here. Right now. "Untie me and I'll show you how much I like it."
In answer to my dry reply, his deep chuckle reverberated through his
body. "Baby, perhaps later. We don't have time for kinky stuff right
now."
"Fuck you."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he said quietly.
For a moment the world shifted and I stilled. "What the hell do you mean
by that?"
Shifting to adjust my weight, he grunted. "You know what I mean."
And I knew that I did too. Since the day he'd burst into the infirmary
tent with his blatant, earthy curses and guns ablazing, he'd had me all
hot and restless for a taste of that hard, sculptured grunt bod. Hardly
an hour went by that I didn't think of crawling up to the man and feeling
up what lay between his powerful thighs. From what I'd managed to scope
out, it seemed as if the good Lieutenant had quite an arsenal packed into
his cammies. Though I certainly wasn't a size queen, I couldn't help but
wonder what a man could do with artillery that size. Yum.
What did this macho marine think about that. As optimistic as I am , I
doubt he'd be amused that I wanted to lick him slowly from head to toe.
And back again. Sure, being proud and militantly gay was great in any
other context but being tied up, helpless and in his care, I didn't care
to be beaten up by a musclebound homophobic punk in the middle of
nowhere. Suddenly the idea that the man carrying me was more than 6 feet
of pure beef and muscle chilled me more than a little. Was he going to
stake me out in the middle of the desert?