The reserves were never hotter that when these weekend
warriors discovered they'd rather switch than fight!



                       WILD MARINE BOYS



Jack Brandon tilted his utility cap back, wiping the sweat
off his forehead with the back of one hand.  Squinting his
eyes he peered through the tornado like clouds swirling
behind the bus.  "Goddamned Reservists," he said to himself,
tugging his cap back down to protect his face from the desert
sun.  Mid-July, and he and his men had to drive up from
Colorado to this godforsaken hole in the middle of the Mojave
to train some damned weekend warriors.  Frowning, Jack
watched the two Greyhound buses rumble slowly across the
rutted compound area, stopping in front of the first of four
interconnected quonset huts.  The big UDT specialist shifted
position, thinking about what he was supposed to be doing
today and feeling his cock thickening, stirring in his
jockstrap.  Shit!  He was supposed to be on his way to L.A.
today.  Four months of ball breaking training in that
goddamned little shit Amphibious Base in Colorado.

Four months of running through beach and sand carrying a
phone pole with five other UDT specialists; four months of
eight hour workouts, three mile swims with full fusing and
defusing gear strapped to his wetsuit; four months of so many
damned obstacle and firing courses one started to look and
feel like the other.  His cock ached for a good, hot tight
ass to slip into.  But he was too damned tired to do anything
when there was that rare hour or two of spare time.

At night Jack lay in his rack, his fingers curled tight
around his rod, his hand jerking up and down so fast his nuts
bounced back and forth like rubber balls.  He'd shift hairy
butt back and forth, lubing his shaft with pre-cum that oozed
from his piss slit, thinking about how nice a warm pair of
smooth buns would feel rubbing up and down against his
crotch.

Four lousy months of that crap and finally he had a chance to
get away for a weekend.  One day before he was scheduled to
leave to C.O. came into his office and handed him a note.
Some damned Reserve unit from Long Beach was going to go
through modified survival training in the desert.  He was
picked along with five others to head up the training
program.

Jack smiled grimly as the buses squealed to a halt.  They'd
get a training program they'd never forget.  There'd be no
holds barred for this group.  Wiping the sweat from under his
eyes he walked up to the group of Reservists just starting to
climb out of the buses.

I'm Commander Brewer," a tall, slightly overweight commander
in starched utility greens said stepping from the growing
crowd gathering around the first quonset hut.  Jack shook
hands, taking note of the smooth feel of the C.O.'s palms.
The UDT specialist smirked, wondering how long those neatly
pressed greens and the man in them would last in hundred
degree plus temperatures.

"Petty Officer First Class Brandon.  I'm here with five of my
men to give you a good workout," he said, smiling as he
looked over the group of now nearly fifty men.  For
Reservists they weren't too bad.  There were one or two fat
ones who'd give him trouble, he knew.  They'd probably crap
out on the first all day hike.  He'd take care of their case
fast enough.

"Not much of a camp, is it Brandon?" the commander asked.

"Not much," Jack echoed.  His eyes followed Brewer's, taking
in the flat, barren, bleached white ground rising slightly to
the east and ending abruptly some twenty miles away at the
foot of the Chocolate Mountains.  A ten foot wire fence
surrounded the camp, giving it the appearance of the deserted
desert concentration center.  Jack thought about L.A. again,
felt his cock harden a little more and his nuts press up
against his dickroot.  He groaned inwardly.

"I've got eleven officers and fifty-eight men here,"
Commander Brewer said after an uneasy silence passed.
"You've got enough room here for us?"

"Housing's in the first quonset hut, commander," Jack said in
a droning voice.  He was looking at someone who had caught
his eye seconds ago.  An officer, a lieutenant!  Damn, and he
was probably straight too!  Well, it wouldn't have done any
good if he were as gay as a goose.

Where the hell could they sneak away to do anything out here
anyway, behind the cactus?  Still, as the tall blond
lieutenant moved through the troops who by this time had all
debarked, Jack felt his pulse quicken and his cock stretch
out to its full hard seven inches.  It strained against the
ribbed material of the pouch of his jockstrap, throbbing as
if a hot, wet mouth had just finished sucking him off.

The big stud sucked in a deep breath, turning away and
walking up to the door of the first hut.  GOTTA THINK
OFFICIALLY, he said to himself, opening the door and feeling
a cool blast of damp air hit his face.  Immediately he felt
the taut flesh relax.

"It's not the Hilton, Commander but it'll do," Jack said,
stepping back and letting the troops file in.  A row of iron
bunkbeds lined either side of the hut.  Jack smiled with
amusement as he saw the disappointed looks of the Reservists.
They'd be bleating to come back here in a few days.
"Officers and men sleep together.  There's not room to
separate, Commander.  I'm down at the end of the passageway
through that door," he said, pointing forward.  "The rest of
the troops are in the second hut to the right at the end,
through the corridor and kitchen," Jack explained.

No, there wasn't anyone else who interested him particularly.
It was just that lieutenant now stepping through the doorway
talking animate with a lieutenant commander.  Jack leaned
against one of the bunks, biting his lower lip and staring up
at the fluorescent lights.

"When are we going to get the training briefing, Brandon?"

Jack hadn't heard the question.  He was watching the blond
officer with growing fascination.  Everything about him
seemed to have an almost unnatural vitality.  The way he
walked, talked, moved his arms as if that motion could drive
the words into the listener attracted Jack.  His handsome
smooth face glowed with health and animation.  Too bad he was
straight.  Shit, that was always his luck!  He went after the
straight ones all the time.  No wonder he spent his time in
the rack beating off.

"Brandon, didn't you hear me?  When are we going to have our
training briefing?"

"Sorry, Commander," Jack said, a little nonplussed.  He
realized he'd been staring.  That was dumb thing to do.  Al
he needed was to be caught.  He could kiss his career
goodbye.  "I've got to talk to my men, but probably in an
hour.  We've got the briefing room set up.  Just have to get
out the ammo and other pyrotechnics and we're ready to go."

"Sounds good. Oh I'd like to meet our training officer.
You'll be working with him for the next two weeks," Brewer
said, turning around and talking to someone.  "This is Ron
Farraday.  He used to be an active duty UDT.  Just got out."

Hell, it was the blond lieutenant he'd been staring at!  How
was he supposed to work with this number when his cock was
practically popping out of his pants?  Thank God the
jockstrap was still holding!

"Hi," Ron said in a friendly way, his eyes open, no trace of
surprise, admiration or disapproval.  His grip was firm,
brief, everything it should be and everything he didn't want.

"Come on. I'll show you the camp," Jack said, feeling a
shudder ripple through his body.  Every step he took ribbed
his hard dick against his hairy legs.  He could feel Ron
Farraday's body exerting itself under his already, feel his
smooth legs struggling while his hands parted his buns and
his fingers inched down into the smooth asshole.  Those were
dangerous thoughts.  He could imagine the court martial
following that kind of rape.  Fucking an officer?  No way!

"Like I said, down this way's my space," Jack began, walking
down the tiled passageway.  On either side of him of the
Reservists were already noisily unpacking, throwing their
clothes and toiletries in the battered metal lockers that
stood between each bunk, laughing loudly about what a hole
they thought this place was.  That was good.  Jack sensed a
feeling of camaraderie in this unit, a feeling they'd need as
the weeks dragged by.

"Where's the kitchen?  I'd like to get my supply types going
unloading food.  It's been a long trip up here and the men
are hungry," Ron said cheerily from behind.

"I'll come to it in a second, lieutenant," Jack said, feeling
his dick stiffen up again.  They walked to the end of the
corridor, turned right and passed a communal shower and
shitter.  No partitions, no anything except one bare light
bulb badly lighting the area.  Well, he told them they
weren't at the Hilton.

"Kitchen's good, big," Ron commented as they entered a
brightly lighted area.  The sharp smell of disinfectant still
hung in the air.  Wooden backed chairs were stacked on top on
five tables pushed to the side for the time being.  Large air
cooler units droned noisily in all the windows, sending a
steady breeze of damp air across the dining area.  Off to the
right a large kitchen boasted of two reefers, one stove, a
double basin sink and enough counter space to prepare a
banquet on.  All the equipment was vintage World War II,
scratched, dented, badly in need of repair but scrubbed
clean.  Jack and his men had been busy the previous day
preparing for this Reservist onslaught.

"Good, great," Commander Brewer muttered as he surveyed the
space.

Jack folded his thick muscled arms across his chest,
cautiously staring at Ron who was now examining the kitchen
space.  Yeah, he was one of the best looking numbers he'd run
across in a long, long, long time!  Lieutenant Farraday was
just the kind of man Jack liked, smaller than he was, but
still masculine.  Tall, a little thinner than Jack, he
nevertheless was solidly built.  Every move he made indicated
self assuredness, self confidence, a sense that the man knew
what he wanted and would go after it without hesitation.  The
baggy though starched greens revealed little about his build.
But Jack was fairly sure it was tightly packed, well defined,
hard muscled enough to make him watch himself at all times.
He couldn't let himself at all times.  He couldn't let
himself lose control out here.

"I'd like to go outside now, Commander Brewer said, signaling
with a hand movement for Ron to follow.

They stepped from the dining room out into the midday hell of
the Mojave.  Jack could smell the mesquite trees as they
baked in the hot sun.  Shit, even the earth was burning under
the relentless light and heat.  The sky overhead was a deep
blue, the right shade Jack has seen on glazed porcelain once
or twice.  The air burned his lungs as he inhaled sharply and
squinted back at Ron and the commander.

"Always get this hot?"  Commander Brewer asked, looking
around at the surrounding wasteland.

"It's late July, Commander.  Temperatures get up to one
hundred twenty some days,"  Jack said off handedly.

Brewer walked to the fence, surveying the small camp
silently.

"It's pretty much what I expected," Ron said, drawing up
close to Jack and looking around with interest.

The intense dry heat had taken some of the edge off his
sexual interest in the lieutenant.  But it was there, poking
its head up and grinning sheepishly at him.  Damn!  While Ron
looked about, Jack studied him more closely than before.  His
short, trimmed hair made his finely chiseled features appear
almost delicate.  There was the attraction!  It was the
contrast between those features and the obvious strength and
vitality that made Ron Farraday so damned attractive!  His
gray eyes were framed by light brown eyebrows and barely
visible long lashes.  A thin yet full, neatly trimmed
moustache completed the officer's face.  It was a face
radiating intelligence, insight, shrewdness.  Jack shifted
his feet uneasily as he felt his chest tighten.

"We've got a forty mile river trip planned.  Did the
inflatable rafts get here?"  Ron asked, turning and facing
Jack suddenly.

"Uh, yeah.  They came yesterday.  I've got them in the
storage area."

He had to watch himself!  The lieutenant caught him staring
hotly at him.. Right now that could be passed off as innocent
curiosity.  Those dark gray eyes flicked with amber, the
thin, slightly upward curving lips, the long straight nose
that added strength to a delicate face, all of it made Jack
nervous.  This was going to be a long two weeks.  Dropping
his eyes he stared for a second at Ron's fly.  Nothing, but
nothing to see with those damned baggy greens!  He'd have to
sneak around and catch him in the shower.

"Let's go on, gentlemen," Commander Brewer called out.

The group of three walked slowly along the outer base
perimeter.  To the east the land stretched barrenly up to the
Chocolate Mountains, brown peaks looking like something from
a moonscape.

"We're scheduled for a four hour hike tomorrow, isn't that
right, Brandon?" the senior officer asked as he squinted at
the jagged peaks baking in the sun.  "Right along the base of
those things," he added.

"Yes, sir," Jack said, moving up beside Commander Brewer,
glad he could take his mind off Lieutenant Farraday.
"According to our plans you'll be moving out from the camp
through the gate and up alongside the canal."

"Canal?"

Ron standing on the other side of Jack, one arm brushing
lightly against his side as he too stared at the bleached
landscape yawning in front of them.

"The Great American Canal," Jack explained.  His cock was
stretching again, getting good and hard and for no goddamned
good reason!  The big petty officer shifted his weight,
pointing one finger at a rise of land running from near the
base of the Chocolate Mountains past the camp, turning and
stretching north to the horizon.  "Brings water down from the
foothills to L.A.  If you get lost all you have to do find
the canal and it'll take you right home."

"That shouldn't be too hard to do," Commander Brewer said,
laughing softly.  He was sweating, his uniform becoming
spotted with dark green patches of perspiration.  He looked
uncomfortably at Ron Farraday, rubbing the dust from his
nose.

"I want to teach your men something about survival,
commander," Jack said, growing serious.  Commander Brewer
signaled impatiently, still trying to catch Ron Farraday's
eye and signal an end to this indoctrination.  "That's what
I've been trained to do.  But also want to teach them
something about the land, about themselves."

The three of them stood silently for several seconds, sweat
streaking their faces.  The slamming of one of the quonset
hut doors broke the silence.  Ron turned, his face darkening
almost immediately when he saw LCDR Richard Jackson ambling
toward them.  Jack caught the lieutenant's change in
expression.  His eyes followed Ron's and he saw an overweight
senior officer approaching them.  Everything about LCDR
Jackson indicated he was uncomfortable not only with himself
but with everyone and everything he met.  He wore an
expression wavering between dissatisfaction and pain that
rarely if ever left his face.  Now he appeared as if someone
had told him he had to march with full pack on his back
tomorrow over the mountains.  As he started to speak one of
his gold oak leaves tumbled off his collar and landed at
Ron's feet.  The young lieutenant bent over, scooping it up
and incidentally providing Jack with a brief glance at his
ass.  NICE, TIGHT, ROUND FUCK! he thought to himself, pushing
his legs farther apart to accommodate his hardening rod.
Already he could feel jizz oozing up from his fat balls and
burning into the mushroom head.  Hell, he was going to be
pounding his rod all night.  He'd have to check the ceiling
the next day to make sure he got all the jizz up.  His lips
curled up into a cynical smile at the exaggeration.

"You dropped something," Ron said dryly, handing Jack the
dusty officer device.

Later that day during the exercises in the field;

"Hold you fire," Ron shouted, scooting back  behind the first
flank and crawling in the middle of his circling men.  There
were a few bursts of automatic rounds that followed his
order, then silence.  Ron could hear his heart pounding .  It
was Nam all over again, the brain bleaching sun, the scorched
air that seemed to burn your lungs when you breathed.

"I think that cocksucker's through with us," Lt. King
whispered.

Ron smiled at the young lieutenant's remark.  He knew King
was more correct than he could have dreamed.  Yes, he'd like
to have Jack's mouth sliding on his dick, that bushy black
moustache tickling his balls.  He knew the score, knew what
Brandon was after.  He also knew Jack was holding back for
the same reason he said nothing to encourage the petty
officer.  The firing, the fighting, the explosions brought
Jack closer to his mind.  That was something that wasn't hard
to do.  Brandon was everything he admired in men, string,
determined, a man with a powerful will and the courage to
follow it through.  He could sense it in Jack.  And this
skirmish symbolized the contest of body and mind he liked
before, during and after fucking.  Yeah, he'd seen that big
hard-on between Brandon's legs.  Jack had thought he'd hidden
it.  But Ron had caught it all in a glimpse.  Christ, he was
big cocked, probably having a set of heavy hanging balls to
match.

"Your old man's passed out," Jack said, breaking into Ron's
fantasy.  The heat was getting to him as well. "The Executive
Officer's okayed us callin' the exercise off.  I can't get
any help 'cept our two jeeps.  The other group sounds worse
off than you."

"The C.O.'s sick?" Jackson said asked.

Ron saw that Jackson was nervous.

"Alright, come on.  The party's over.  Leave the packs out
here.  We'll get them later," Ron shouted, waiving one arm
over his head and leading the column back through the desert
to camp.

When they finally trudged through the wire gates into the
compound the men broke into a run, some of them heading for
the water tank while others stumbled up the steps to the air
cooled quonset hut.  Ron headed for the water tank pulling
off his cap and sticking his head under the clear stream.

"Alright, don't waste the water.  Come on, we've got the
showers," he said after taking a good long drink.

Jack went to his quarters, pulling off his boots then falling
back exhausted in his bunk.  One hand touched the floor while
the other rested comfortably on his chest.  Shit, he smelled
of dust.  That damned desert got into everywhere, even his
crotch.  He could feel his cock moving around in grit packed
into the pouch of his jockstrap.  He'd shower later.  Right
now all he wanted to do was sleep.  Even thoughts of Ron
didn't float across his mind as he wiped more dust from his
eyes.  Peace and quiet!  Lights still flashed in front of his
eyes, phantom light from the glare just outside.  His skin
seemed to drink in the cool dampness created by the cooler
humming nearby.  Damn, it was good in here, almost like a
castle.  He scratched his balls, spread his legs and closed
his eyes.  He'd have to talk to Ron and the other officers
later.  They couldn't keep up their program and expect their
men to stand it.  But that was later.  All he needed now was
about eight hours of sleep.

Outside things weren't so calm.  Three more men had collapsed
from the heat while inside.  Lt. King wasn't looking too well
himself and had to be dragged to the showers to cool down.
Ron did his best to reassure the men that the program would
change.  Twice he tried talking to the commanding officer.
But Commander Brewer was out.  When he awoke once or twice he
acted like someone drugged.  Ron sighed, determined to speak
to him the moment his mind cleared.

The shower was cluttered with the men who hadn't collapsed.
They were laughing now, drinking the water, soothing their
burned flesh under the drops as they talked about how they'd
"made it."  Muddy water gurgled down the drain.  Ron, like
Jack, decided to wait for his shower, collapsing in his bunk.
Well, if there were more marches like this one he wouldn't
have to worry about his cock giving him away.  He'd be too
fucking exhausted to do anything.  Closing his eyes he felt a
warm fuzziness drift over him.

The young officer had no idea how long he'd been asleep.
When he awoke there was only the sound of uneven snoring
blending with the constant hum of the air coolers.  Everyone
had showered or was still semi comatose.  Time for his
shower.

He stripped quickly, grabbing his towel and soap and padding
to the narrow shower area.  THE GAS CHAMBERS IN GERMANY
MUST'VE LOOKED LIKE THIS, he thought as he hung up his towel
and stepped onto the slick concrete floor.  One dim yellow
light illuminated the bare area.  Behind him the doorless
toilets squatted, paper nearly touching the wet floor from
the racks.

Turning on the water Ron groaned, letting the cool shower
wash his flesh clean of the caked on dirt.  The young man
felt ecstatic, so much so he didn't notice the sound of
Jack's door closing.

FEELS LIKE A SWAMP, Jack thought to himself as he approached
the shower area.  He heard the water running and thought
nothing of it.  Jack slipped the towel off and hung it up
next to the only other one there.

He stopped in the doorway, his eyes focusing on that tight
set of round buns shining with water.  That broad back, the
long legs, the wide shoulders, it had to be Ron Farraday!
Jack's chest tightened, choking off a sharp breath he'd
started to suck in.  His fingers were working against his
hairy thighs as he watched the officer move sensuously under
the running water, unaware he was being watched from behind.
Jack saw a river of water cascading down the small of Ron's
back, gathering just above his buttocks and rushing into that
narrow, hairless crack.  He licked his lips, wanting to kneel
down behind the young officer, grab his ass and shove his
tongue in that crack until he touch his shitter!

"How's it goin'?" Jack blurted out, stepping into the small
shower room and turning on the water.  He pretended not to
care about Ron as he stepped under the cascading shower,
letting the water plaster down his black hair.

Ron froze, then turned and grinned.  He'd wondered what would
happen if he and Jack had met in circumstances like this.
Well, nothing had happened.  They were talking about the
day's hike, about how stupid it was to plan any more of them.

Each realized the other was growing more interested in his
body as the conversation progressed.  But neither Jack nor
Ron indicated anything more that friendliness.

"We'll talk about it later," Ron said, turning off the water
and stepping out of the room.  "It's all yours," he said,
starting to wipe off.  His hair was soaked, dripping water on
his broad shoulders while beads of water dotted his slim
waisted body.  Jack stared at the young officer, admired the
way his smooth muscled body glistened with that sheet of
water.  Jack sucked  in a long breath and stared admiringly
at that cock, that low riding set of balls that jiggled
whenever the officer moved.  He had never wanted someone so
much and taken so long to get him?

"The shower or you?"

His eyes widened.  He couldn't believe he'd said something
like that !  For a second he thought the floor had opened and
he was dropping into some pit.  Four words could destroy his
career.  Then staring more closely Jack realized Ron hadn't
heard the remark.  The officer had been busily toweling his
face dry.

"Hm?" Ron asked, turning around as he started to rub his hair
dry.  One look at Jack's black eyes and heaving chest told
him the story.  He stopped drying himself, stepping back as
if to warn the enlisted man off.  Ron had never felt his
throat get this dry before.  He wanted to speak, to say
something that would shake off this spell, suddenly cast over
them.  But he couldn't do anything except stare back, feeling
his cock rising and thickening behind the damp towel.  Jack
turned off the shower.

"I said, the shower or you."

The words echoed strangely in the shower room.  Ron nearly
jumped out of his skin when Jack repeated them.  What if
someone heard him."  What if Jackson roused himself from his
sleep and was padding down the aisle to take a piss?  He
glanced nervously down the double row of bunks.  No. No one
was up.  He heard snoring groans, a few squeaking sounds
indicating restless sleep.

"Uhhhh......I.....I don't think you'd better.....go much
further," Ron said, his breath coming in shorter pants.

"I think, the problem's that I didn't go far enough the first
day."

His voice was dropping and thickening with excitement.
Unlike Ron he didn't have a towel to hide his cock.  It rose
up from his hairy groin, the blue veins pulsing, pushing
against the tight shin.  Ron's eyes dropped and widened with
surprise.   Was he appalled at this advance?  No, it had been
something he'd wanted ever since he'd met Jack.  But here,
practically in front of the men?  It was crazy.  They'd both
get busted if they were caught.

Then Ron moved the towel away, revealing his own hard-on.
Jack shivered, his lips curling into a grin.  Shit, Thank
God!  He moved to the doorway, reaching out with one hand and
lightly brushing the smooth, tightly stretched skin of that
dickhead.  Ron's cock jerked up, jiggling the tight sacked
balls beneath.

"Later, not here," Ron whispered, his eyes widening even
more.

"It's perfect," Jack said, unable to keep his hands off the
young officer's smooth body any more.  "They're out for a
long time.  My room's got a lock on it.  Come on.  I'm not
gonna wait for two weeks now, especially knowing the way you
feel about it."

"I.....ughhhh....."

It was crazy what they were doing!  Anyone could come by and
spot them, turn them in.  But the possibility of getting
caught added somehow to the rushing excitement overpowering
both men.  Jack moved his hand along the full, smooth length
of Ron's seven inch dick, watching it seem to grow tauter
with each passing second.  Finally it stood as rigidly
immobile as steel, stretching out from the officer's flat,
hard groin.  He liked a cock like that, big, hard, but not as
fat as his so as to threaten supremacy.

"I wanna fuck you.....fuck you bad," Jack muttered, his voice
catching.

This kind of foreplay was achingly slow.  He was teasing
himself, driving Ron up the wall as well.  But the officer
was a good catch.  He wasn't going to rush through this as if
Ron were some trick he'd picked up in the street.  He'd
waited too long for someone like that stud to come along to
rush it.

"Let's get outta here, then,"  Ron said, swallowing hard.

"Best thing you've said so far," Jack answered.

He ringed the base of the officer's cock with his right thumb
and forefinger.  He drew his hand forward, making Ron shiver
and his flesh pucker up into goosepimples.

"Let's move," Ron whispered, pushing Jack's fingers away.

The two men grabbed their respective towels, wrapping them
tightly around their waists and padding down the corridor to
Jack's room.  Ron thought someone would bolt up from the cot
and point an accusing finger at them.  But there was still
nothing except the constant snoring behind the two men.

"Safe," Jack said, closing the door behind him and bolting it
shut.

Ron dropped his towel, turning around and facing Jack.  His
blood enlarged dick jerked from side to side while Jack slid
his towel off and approached him.  He stopped when his
cockhead brushed lightly against Ron's smooth inner thighs.
They were holding back until the last possible second, the
air between them thickening and sparking with electricity.
Jack felt himself floating off the floor with excitement.  He
reached up with one hand and ran his fingers through Ron's
damp, blond hair.  Damn, the strands felt like silk!  He
hadn't known many men who were like that.  Jack looked into
Ron's eyes and saw the young officer wanted the same thing,
hard, hot wild fucking.  There wasn't any going back now.  To
hell with Commander Brewer, training, Jackson and the others.
They were going to make it, make it so fuckin' hard the
damned quonset hut would fall down when they were through!

Ron felt his balls puckering up, tightening against his cock.
Shit, his dick ached, throbbed and burned while jizz boiled
up from his nuts and packed down in his cockhead.  If Jack
didn't take it easier he was going to cum all over them now.
"Let's get in the sack," Jack muttered, taking Ron By the
hand and pulling him across the tiled floor.

Ron didn't answer, at least with words.  He still couldn't
believe this was happening.  He'd read fantasy stories about
guys in the service fucking out in the field or in the
showers.  But that was reading for the fuckin' bathroom,
something to pound your rod to.  This was real!  It was
happening, going on practically in front of the CO!   He
would have laughed if he weren't so damned excited!

Ron lay down first, wallowing his shoulders against the
wrinkled sheets of the small bed.  Jack followed, kneeling
carefully on the edge of the bed.  He leaned forward,
brushing his mouth lightly against on of Ron's stiff nipples,
then nuzzling it with his lips and tongue.

The result was electrifying.  Ron cried out with delight,
biting his lower lip and hoping no one outside could hear
him.

"It's alright," Jack said, reading his mind.  "The room's
practically soundproof.  I think you could shoot off a gun in
here and they wouldn't wake up anyway," Jack added, smoothing
his hands up and down Ron's sides.

Jack went back to tonguing the young man's nipples, sucking
the dark brown flesh between the gap of his front teeth.
Ron's body jerked, his hands moving up to the sides of Jack's
head.

"How long's it been since you've fucked around?" Jack asked ,
pulling back for a second.

"Too long, I guess.  But that won't be a problem now."

Jack grinned, ten lowered his head again.  This time he put
his mouth on Ron's.  He wasn't into all that kissing nonsense
usually.  Romance was something for the books or those
marshmallow pump fags screeching around the disco bars.  But
this was something else.  He wanted Ron, all of him.  He
wanted to taste him, fuck him, get inside him.

"God!" Ron muttered.

He kept his lips closed while Jack ran his tongue along the
line that divided them.  Slowly Ron opened his mouth,
silently inviting the stud in.  Their tongues met and pressed
tentatively against each other as the two men held back waves
of lust building quickly in their cocks.  Jack flicked the
tip of his tongue against Ron's feeling the officer's body
shiver under him when he increased the pressure of his lips.

Then all hell broke loose.  With a long groan Ron lashed his
tongue into Jack's mouth.  In a second the two men were
gripped in a mind spinning whirlwind of lust.  Their legs
jerked against one another.  Their hands grabbed and
squeezed.  Their bellies, chests and cocks ground together
faster and harder, creating an intensely heated friction
triggering sweat that slicked down their flesh.  The room
echoed with their moans and the sounds of wet skin rubbing
across wet skin.

Finally Jack wrenched his mouth from Ron's and threw back his
head.  He heaved and his breath came in short, wheezing
gasps.  His lower jaw dropped open and he let out a broken
moan.  Down by his groin he could feel the hot, spongy head
of Ron's cock throbbing against his thighs.

"Feels good?" Jack whispered against Ron's right ear.

"God, yes!" Ron panted, moving his hands back and forth over
Jack's shoulders.

It did feel good.  He hadn't had a man like Jack for a long
time.  Back in the shower room he'd made up his mind that he
was going to let this stud fuck him.  Jack was one of those
few Ron would let have his way.  Ho could do anything to him
and it would be alright.  He moved his butt from side to
side, grinning, that smile fading as a particularly powerful
spasm shot through his cockhead.
"Man, everything about you feels good," Ron added, arching
his back and pressing his dick even harder against Jack's
body.

Jack responded by doing the same, rubbing his throbbing
dickhead back and forth in the narrow crease running between
Ron's right leg and groin.  Soon it was sliding on its own
layer of pre-cum oozing from the narrow piss slit.  Jack
dropped his head a third time, gluing his lips onto Ron's and
sucking in the officer's spit while sliding one hand down
until it cupped one of the blond's asscheeks.

"Ummmmmm," Ron moaned into Jack's mouth.

It felt good, really good having those callused fingers
rubbing over his ass like that.  He tensed his butt muscles,
raising his ass off the bed.  He could feel Jack's muscular
chest heaving, reflecting the excitement whirling around in
his head.  God, it was great the way those fingers gripped
his hot firm flesh.  Every time Jack squeezed that asscheek
Ron winced and shoved his body against the stud's.  Slowly
Jack wound up pushing his hand into the narrow crack running
between the blond's buns.  He toyed with the few hairs that
poked out around the bottom edge of the buttcrack.  He
stroked the sensitive skin between Ron's asshole and balls,
making the officer raise his butt a little higher, then drop
it and snap his legs together.  Ron shoved his tongue deeper
into Jack's mouth, drinking in all the spit he could handle
as that loving hand shoved closer to his asshole.

"Shit!" Jack cried out, tearing his mouth off again and
running his tongue down the side of Ron's neck.

The officer rolled back and forth on the bed, making the
rusty springs squeak and groan with the double weight.  Jack
was sliding lower and lower on the bed now, dipping his
tongue in the small pools of seat that had collected on Ron's
belly and chest.  Jack was still playing with the blond
officer's ass, planning something for that part of the body a
little later.  Right now he was anxious to explore every inch
of Ron's body with his tongue.  He lapped at the hot flesh
the way a thirsty dog laps up water.

"Unnghhhh....."

Ron twisted half around, raising his ass up from the sagging
cot a little more.  The air cooler whirred somewhere in the
background while he hung onto Jack's head.  His fingers
fanned out along the sides of the big man's skull.

Jack thought he was going to go through the ceiling.  He
loved the way his tonguing was turning Ron on.  The young
officer was panting like a dog, sweat coating his body like
oil.  He squeezed Ron's muscular buttocks, waiting to shove
his face in between those fleshy mounds and tongue his
asshole.

TAKE IT EASY, EASY, Jack told himself, bathing the young
man's face with his hot spit.  He slipped his tongue up and
over Ron's heavy belly, moving his fingers back up and
digging them into his flat, hard belly.  Seat oozed into
Jack's eyes, burning them while his heart threatened to tear
through his ribcage.

"Man, don't tease me ...ugh... like this," Ron grunted.

He opened his eyes and raised his head, looking heavy lidded
at Jack.  The velvety, hot, wet sensation around his navel
was driving the young officer closer to climax than he wanted
to be.  He dropped back down, the springs groaning and
squeaking.  He rolled his head to one side and started biting
the pillow.  This was turning out to be one hell of a two
week active duty.

"Stop it ...uhhh Stop it.  You're gonna make me ...cum!!"

Jack backed away, wiping the spit from his moustache with the
back of one hand.  That stud was one hell of a number!  His
body was tightly packed, muscular, but not too overdeveloped,
every square inch rippling with force and energy.  The long
legs, the groove separating his thighs from his torso the
hard banded pecs, everything about Ron turned Jack om.  Right
now he was breathing as hard as Jack, strands of hair
covering one eye rakishly.  He was smiling, looking tired and
weak.  But Jack knew that feeling.  He was having it himself.
It was the feeling of unreality, that nothing existed except
the two of them.  Jack reached out and brushed those strands
of hair away from Ron's eyes, feeling his balls drag across
the officer's thighs.

Ron cried out, jerking half up, then throwing his body back
down on the bed.   His head snapped from one side to the
other while a growl escaped between his lips.  He clawed at
the wrinkled top sheet, his muscles tensing, relaxing, then
tensing again.  Jack was letting the tip of his tongue trail
along the sensitive ridge of his cock.

"Ohhhhh man," Jack whispered, circling tongue around the base
of Ron's dick, then moving it back up to the grove separating
the flanges of his cockhead.  He raised both hands and placed
them heavily onto Ron's thighs, holding the stud down while
continuing his teasing.  He liked that, liked watching
someone like Ron twisting under him, groaning like some
goddamned animal that's just been speared.  And he was in
control, playing him like a musical instrument.  Whenever his
tongue neared the cockhead he baked away, watching that rod
jerk up, then flop back to Ron's flat belly.

"SHIT!"

Jack backed off again, seeing that Ron was humping his ass
back and forth in fucking motions.  He didn't want him to
shoot yet.  He would've given anything to watch that white
jizz spurt out in broad arcs and hit his face.  But he knew
they might not get a chance to fuck around for a while.
Might was well make this worth the trouble and forget an
early climax for a more powerful later one.

"Can't stop it!"

Jack realized he'd teased the young man too much.  Ron's face
twisted up in a mask of pain, his breathing coming in short,
raspy pants.  He was throwing himself side to side, banging
his crotch against Jack's face.  He was cumming, his dick
leaping up and shooting out long strings of hot white cum.
It arched in the air, then spattered down onto the sheet over
Jack's arms and shoulders.  Ron curled his fingers, beating
his fists hard on the bed.  The cords in his neck stood out
while his cries turned into strangled groans.

Jack was surprised.  He had hardly touched him.  His tongue
had trailed along the officer's dick, moved up to the head,
then back down.  Nothing had happened.  And yet Ron was
turning into a wild man, shooting like some fuckin' teenager
who was rolling in the hay for the first time.

Finally Ron's body went limp.  He shuddered then groaned
softly as Jack wiped off a sploch of cum that had landed on
his face.

"Shit.  I hardly touched you," Jack said, looking at the limp
dick in front of him.  Well, he didn't have to have a hard-on
under him when he fucked.  But it sure added to the
excitement.

"Sorry," Ron panted breathlessly.  He struggled to get the
oxygen back into his lungs.  "But I warned you. Shit, I
warned you."

"If you're that hot, it won't take much more to get it back
up," Jack said.

He smiled slyly down at the blond officer, running his
fingers lightly over the underside of Ron's limp cock.  It
was still sensitive from the last cum.

"Besides, I've still got my load," Jack said chucking Ron
under the chin.

He sprang off the small bed and walked to his duffle bag.
Unzipping the cloth case he fished around, finding his tube
of Lube.
Didn't think about usin' this out here.  I was gonna be up in
L.A. for a while and...hell, try it out in some of the
baths," Jack said, moving back to the bed.

"Glad we fucked up your plans," Ron said, eyeing the fat dick
standing straight out from Jack's hairy groin.  He'd been
fucked before.  But the specialists cock was something a
little larger than he'd had up his ass.  Watching Jack grease
his dick down he swallowed hard.  A little amyl would have
helped now.  But he had a feeling Jack didn't have any
poppers in the bag.

"Come on, over on your belly.  It'll be easier," Jack said,
noticing Ron's wariness.

"Shit, you're so big you'll split me in two," Ron answered.
His eyes widened as he stared at the angry red flanged
cockhead.

"Over, over," Jack muttered, helping Ron roll onto his belly.
He watched that handsome head bury in the pillow, those arms
pushing under the covers.  He caressed the downy, smooth skin
with his fingers, loving the silky feel of his hot assflesh.
Soft and still a man.  Hell, it was a great combination.

Then he moved his fingers down to Ron's shitter, creasing the
wrinkled red-pink flesh with his thumbnails.  The officer
groaned, making Jack's heart skip a beat.  He worked his
fingers back and forth, massaging that tight little asshole,
feeling as if he could shoot any second.  HOLD BACK MAN, he
told himself, fanning out his fingers and kneading the taut
buttflesh.  He shoved his thumbnails in a little deeper until
he could feel the silky lining of Ron's shitter.

"Oh, man," Ron breathed into the pillow.

The blond officer shifted his thighs from side to side,
rubbing his cock and balls against the sweat soaked sheets.
Jack was right.  He was hot enough to get hard again fast.
He felt his dick starting to stretch the second Jack out his
thumbs in his asshole.  Small daggers of heat shot out from
his butt and knifed into his dickhead, making his rod throb
just as it had minutes before.  There wasn't the urgent need
for release this time.  His climax would be slower.  He
pushed his knees farther apart, angling his butt a
little higher to make Jack's fucking a little easier.  It
felt damned exciting and jot to be exposing himself like
that.  Jack's calloused thumbs were scraping his shitter.  He
could feel the jagged nails tickling the flesh around his
asshole.

"Damn, man, you're one hell of a hot fuck," Jack commented.

He shoved Ron's knees forward until they were almost up to
his nipples.  Backing down, the big stud held him tightly
around the hips, dropping his face to Ron's butt.

"Aw, shit, fuck!" Ron cried out, pounding the pillow.

Jack was going crazy behind him.  It seemed he couldn't get
enough of the officer's body.  He left his cock waving in the
air, hanging onto both thighs as if his life depended on it.
The big stud shoved his face up behind Ron's hanging balls,
spreading his legs wider apart.  He started sucking and
licking between the officer's legs, digging his fingers hard
into Ron's thighs.  It was wild!  The blond didn't care if
his damned men heard him or not.  His career, his reputation
didn't matter a fuck.  All he cared about was that crazy
tongue slopping down his legs, covering him with spit.  He
was grunting like a stuck pig, his belly sagging down toward
the bed, then tensing when Jack hit a particularly sensitive
spot.

For Jack it was one of the best fucks he'd had in a long
time.  He couldn't get enough of Ron's groin.  He slid his
mouth up and down those hairless legs, feeling the officer
trying to draw them together.  He kept them splayed, moving
his tongue up until he was washing down the tense flesh
around Ron's shitter.

"Shit, man, shit!" Ron cried.

Jack was sucking out his ass.  He stiffened his tongue once
or twice and screwed it in.  Twisting his head from one side
to the other, he drenched that hole with hot spit.  At the
same time Jack reached down with one hand and started jerking
Ron off.  The blond officer groaned, breathing with rasping
sounds through his nose.

"Fuck," Ron whispered.

He was ready.  His ass was hot, tiltled back for that hard
fat rod hanging between Jack's legs.  All that spit being
poked down into his asshole was fantastic.  It removed any
inhibitions he might have had about having Jack fuck him.  He
wanted that fat headed cock skewering him.  Curling his
fingers again he tore at the pillowcase, his knees sliding
forward a little more.  He wagged his butt again.  Jack was
still sucking at his hole, pumping his dick.  Ron was
flipping around the bed, moaning, digging the hot shivers
running up and down his spine.

"Don't really need the grease," Jack said, pulling back and
wiping the spit from his moustache and chin.  "You're wet
enough down there to take a donkey's cock."

Ron didn't answer.  He held onto the pillow, waiting for that
ass splitter to ream in.  He didn't have to wait long.  Jack
looked down at his rod, greasy from the Lube.  It was big and
swollen, every vein in it standing out clean cut like the
ridges of a muscle.  It was a steel pole twisted around with
thick wire and feeling red hot.  He leaned forward, pressing
his cockhead against that puckered brown little asshole.

The blond officer grunted at the touch.

"Fuckin sweet ass," he hissed through his teeth.

Jack tensed his thighs, shoving his legs up against the backs
of Ron's.  He spread the blond's asscheeks with both hands,
watching his rod bend a little at the middle.

"Shove it in," Ron cried in a strained voice.

Jack looked down, staring at those spit slicked hairless buns
and the fat rod splitting them.  He shoved forward, feeling
some resistance even after all that asshole rimming.

"Easy, easy," he muttered.

He saw Ron's body shiver.  Then suddenly the sphincter
relaxed.  That tight muscle around his hole gave way.  With a
squisy sound, Ron's ass swallowed up his cock in one thrust.

Jack shuddered, reaching down and taking Ron's cock and balls
in his hands.  He shoved his cock right up his ass as far as
it could go.  Ron spread his legs a little further, groaning
into the pillow, trying not to make too much sound.  The big
stud jerked his fingers up and down the officer's twitching
rod, feeling pre-cum oozing from his piss slit, slicking down
his fingers.  They made a rapid clicking sound as he pounded
Ron's cock faster and faster.

"Shit, shit!" the officer cried.

His fingers slipped and slid all over that fat dick.  Jack
pumped his ass hard, driving his rod in and out of that hot
hole until he thought the whole damned quonset hut had to be
shaking.  Half the time he expected someone to be pounding on
the door, wondering what the hell was going on in there.
Jack felt he could have fucked that stud for hours until his
cock was worn out.

"Man, you ain't fucked for a long time...not back here.
You're so goddamned tight!"

Jack fucked him slow and easy to start after the first few
rapid pumps.  He churned his rod up Ron's ass like a
corkscrew, held back, then slammed it on home.  Pulling it
out and almost felt as good as fucking in.  Ron had his
asshole trained, it seemed.  He clamped down on Jack's dick
and sucked it right up as Jack pulled out to get ready to
shove it back in.  It was the wildest feeling yet.  To the
big UDT specialist it was almost like getting sucked off
while fucking at the same time.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Jack gasped, holding off his
fucking movements for a second time.  If he kept up he'd have
blasted his cum into that sucking hole.

"I've been around," Ron managed to say, his words turning
into groans as Jack fisted his rod faster and tighter.

Ron didn't believe in letting a good hunk of meat alone for
one second.  If he couldn't always enjoy feeling every inch
of it stuck inside him, then he'd get his hole working so he
could feel every fat rubbery inch of it sliding out.  His
cock thumped in Jack's hand letting the big stud know just
how hot he was getting.

Jack was through with easy going fucking.  His brain was on
fire.  He sucked in air, the oxygen burning his nostrils and
lungs while the room spun around.  He wanted to fuck Ron into
the floor.  He felt the officer's balls swinging back against
his knuckles while he jerked him off.  He stopped that for a
second, squeezing his fingers tightly around the fleshy rod
until he herd Ron moan.  He wanted to fuck that smooth, taut
ass hard and fast and rough until his balls couldn't hold off
anymore and shot their load up his rod and filled that ass.

"This is it, guy, this is it," he whispered in Ron's ears.

"Go on, man, go for it!" Ron squeezed out of throat.

Jack shivered, pulled out a little, them slammed it up to the
hilt!  Out again then back, out and back again and again he
fucked until he felt his cock was going like a piledriver,
His cock was fucking Ron so hot and fast that the officer's
moaning and humming seemed to turn to signing.  Jack thought
the blond's dick was swelling up so hard and big it would
burst right there in his fist.  It was so slippery with fuck
juice that it slid in and out of his hand as if it were
someone's shitter.

"Ungnhhhhh!"

Ron's body was wet with sweat.  The perspiration trickled
down his back and ended up right between his buns.  It became
part of the spit and fuck juice Jack's cock was riding on.

"Shit!" Jack cried, throwing back his head and shaking the
sweat from his face.

His hips worked rapidly back and forth.  That little shit was
working his ass around like a maniac, his asshole chewing
that fucking rod like a toothless mouth.  Nobody, but nobody,
had done something like that to his rod in a long time.  Jack
hunched over Ron, laying his chest down against the officer's
back, fucking like a dog.  Every muscle in his body was
working.  He kept his cock pounding into the officer's tight
ass, feeling more cum oozing from his swinging balls and
packing down his dickhead.  At times he thought his rod was
going to blow apart, sending gobs of jizz shooting into that
sucking shitter.

"Go for it, man," Ron hissed between his teeth.

Jack felt his balls pulled up tight against his dick.  He
knew this was the final lap of the trip.  He could feel the
base of his spine getting all itchy. His own asshole seemed
to be twitching too while his cock turned to iron.

Then he stood up straighter and pulled back a little.  In
that position he could get a look at his dick slipping in and
out of his hole.  What he saw just about split his head open.
His dick was chugging into Ron's butt, making those hairless
slick buns shiver with excitement each time he shoved in or
pulled out.  The way Ron's hole grabbed onto his dick was
like a damned suction pump.  Jack stuck some fingers down
there so he could get a feel of what was going on, still
keeping one hand flying over Ron's cock and balls.  When he
moved one finger under his dick just where it joined up with
his balls, he could feel every small muscle tensed up,
keeping his rod stiff as a board.  He stroked and fingered
himself around there, touching something that sent shivers up
and down his spine.  The he moved back to where his balls
were drawn up.  He was going to finger fuck himself!  That'd
be one hell of a scene.  No, he'd concentrate on that hot
little ass in front of him.

"What are you doing back there?  Your cock's like a fucking
tongue." Ron panted.

"Just playing a little," He answered, poking his cock around
in his hole.

"Oh shit, right...ughhh, right there," Ron cried, twitching
his ass up and down on Jack's rod so it would hit some spot
that was driving him wild.

"Shut up," Jack whispered.

Ron sucked in his breath and kept his butt working on Jack's
rod.  In the end the officer was jumping around so fast and
hot that the big stud knelt there, pulling his balls and
letting that ass do all the work.  It was the sexiest thing
the specialist had ever seen.

Then a spasm passing through his rod and balls told Jack the
playing was over.
"Here goes," he said, hunching down on him again.  He grabbed
his balls in one hand, Ron's cock in the other and started to
hump hard.  Their sweaty bodies slapped together faster and
faster.  Each pull out of his hole made a sucking sound.
Jack's dick ramrodded his hole as fast as a piston engine.

Then that hot feeling in his spine and asshole came back in a
rush.  Something switched on in his head and something like
liquid fire shot through from his shitter to his balls.  Jack
jerked Ron's big dick hard and fast until it stood up by
itself in his fist and jumped.  Ron's hot jizz shot right up
his cock and spit into the air.  It was too much for Jack to
take.  He let out a wild howl, thumping his cock all the way
up Ron's tightly clasping hole.

"Shit!" the officer cried.

Ron's rock hard cock again.  Load after load of cum spilled
out.  Then it was Jack's turn, twisting around, nearly
pulling out as explosions shot through his cock and balls.
Wad after wad spurted out, filing up the officer's sucking
asshole.  Jack couldn't stop ramming his dick up him, the
jizz shooting out like burning naphtha.  When his balls
seemed ready to cave in, Jack could feel that electricity up
and down his spine slowly turn down.  Ron's dick was still
jumping around a little in his fist.  But nothing seemed to
be spurting out the slit anymore.

"Oh man...."

Jack felt as if someone had punched him in the belly.  He
noticed his fingers were all wet and sticky.  He tickled the
blond's balls a little and stroked his cock slowly.  It was
still hard but had stopped shooting.  Jack's cock felt hot
and good, felt great stuck up that butt.  He never wanted to
pull it out.

Jack fell on top of him, sliding his hands reluctantly away
from the officer's groin and putting them on his arms.  He
worked his ass from side to side, feeling his cock softening
slowly inside Ron's shitter.

"You've got me goin', and I ain't gonna let an ass like that
get away....even out here in the middle of nowhere," Jack
said.

He couldn't believe he'd found someone like Ron, a goddamned
officer; most studs would've at best groaned a little while
offering up their ass reluctantly.  And that little son of a
bitch was rutting like a fuckin' stallion in the fields,
twisting on the bed like a maniac, sucking at his fat rod for
all he was worth!  He'd make a fortune with that butt on the
streets!

Is thoughts drifted back to the present.  Jackson, Commander
Brewer, all the others in the hut just behind the door.  They
had to break it off for now and figure out something else for
later.  He smiled. Jack knew they'd find a way.

"I'll towel off," Jack said, pulling his dick out.

Ron shivered, rolling onto this side and watching Jack wipe
the sweat and cum from his cock and balls.  God, it had felt
so good getting fucked like that.  That fucker knew his shit!
His ass still throbbed when he thought about that big
dickhead skewering his butt while those massive balls slapped
against his thighs.  He wondered when they could figure out
another time to get together.  It wouldn't be easy.

"Come on, clean up and get the fuck outta here," Jack said
easily, grinning when he threw the towel into Ron's face.

They moved quickly, Jack straightening the sheets while Ron
rubbed himself dry, then flipped the towel around his waist.
He looked at Jack, then flipped open the lock quietly and
opened the door.  A blast of cool air from the large room
told him just how much they'd heated up the small living
space.

Good. The men were still asleep.  The snoring echoed from the
curved quonset hut walls and ceiling.  He'd move into the
shower and rinse off the sweat, then slip into bed and....

"Could't sleep, huh?"

Ron tensed, turning around and spotting Commander Brewer,
standing in the corridor that ran past Jack's quarters.

"We were talking about the excercise this morning," Ron said.
"We've gotta change a few things."

"Oh!" Brewer said.