Date: Sat, 5 Jan 2002 15:45:26 -0800 (PST)
From: Marc <Rim4you@webtv.net>
Subject: Marine Latrine - Part 1 (Raunch, Scat)

Disclaimer:

The following story deals with subject matter that some readers may find
objectionable.  Therefore, if graphic sexual acts between consenting men
engaged in situations involving raunch and scat are offensive to you, or
if you are under the age of eighteen, STOP HERE!

Marine Latrine - Part 1
by Rim4you

Prologue

I must have been nuts.  At least that's what I was thinking as I boarded
the bus in Charleston heading, along with my fellow recruits, to Camp Le
Jeun and my ultimate future for the next few years.

"I'm proud of you, son!"  My Dad's parting words rung in my ears as I
made my way towards the back of the bus in the testosterone charged
vehicle that would carry me to family glory or quiet shame.

What made me do it?  College life wasn't so bad.  But I did it anyway.
Perhaps on a whim or the fact that my best friend, Brad Henson, had and
I needed to prove to myself that whatever Brad could do, I could also.

But once inside the recruitment office, I could have turned around and
walked out. But I didn't.  Instead, I sat down in front of a desk and
stared dead ahead at the hunky guy who stared back at me.  The dreamy,
blue eyes of the recruiter studied me, as I did him.  Albeit, his
intentions were purely honorable as he expounded, with those full lips
of his, everything to me about the Marine Corps and what it expected of
me.

Being the lusty, young man that I was and impressionable to boot, I
rather thought about how his luscious lips would feel wrapped around my
cock.  He could have talked me into anything.

In the end, apparently I was considered good enough to be molded into
Marine material and found myself on this bus on  a hot, humid, South
Carolina day waving good-bye to my teary-eyed Mom, my proud Dad and two
younger brothers whose expressions seemed to say, "sucker!"

Yeah.  I was a "sucker" alright.  My brothers had pinned that one on me
and with good reason.  Many were the nights that I slipped between their
legs and eased their pent up, teenage tensions.

Wrapping my lips around Jimmy's rather thick piece of meat, I'd work my
magic on him while Josh came up from behind me and pumped his throbbing
cock in and out of my hungry asshole.

Looking out of the window at Jimmy and Josh I let out a faint sigh.  I
knew I was going to miss them alot.  We may have had our brawls as all
brothers do but in the end we always made up.

"Don't you worry, Kyle."  Brad said, grinning from ear to ear, sliding
onto the seat next to me on the bus and slapping my thigh.  "I'll look
after your ass now!"

"Oh yeah?"  I asked, rather sarcastically.  "How so?"

"Hmmmmm!"  He hummed, reaching down and giving his crotch a squeeze.
"I'll think of something."

Chapter 1

As luck would have it, Brad and I were assigned to the same barracks.
At least for me, having Brad around, that made the initial shock of
adjusting to my new surroundings less formidable.

Our D.I. was a man by the name of Jeff Hutchins.  He was a towering
figure of a man.  Deep set green eyes and a square jaw that dimpled in
the center.  His shoulders were broad with muscular arms and a well
built chest that tapered to a rock hard, washboard stomach.  Below the
belt it was obvious that he packed a powerful weapon.  Aft, from my
sneak peeks at him as he headed towards the showers, were the fullest
twin globes that could barely be concealed under the towel he had
wrapped around his midsection.

As he'd walk by I'd think to myself what it would be like to bury my
face into his warm buttcrack made sweaty by the day's maneuvers.  Of how
ripe it would smell and how funky it would taste.

On those hot, summer nights, lying in my bunk tossing and turning, my
cock rock hard and dripping, I'd think of Hutchins and in the still
quiet of the barracks I'd listen to the snores of my buddies and every
now and then, I'd hear the familiar sound of skin to skin contact and
the muffled moan of a fellow Marine taking matters in hand and I'd slip
my hand into my briefs and curl my fingers around my throbbing shaft and
pump along.

In bootcamp there is no opportunity for a guy to unleash his sexual
tensions except by stealth.  So it became, as it were, a kind of silent
code of honor not to betray a fellow Marine when he had to satisfy his
need.

Day by day.  Night by night, my tensions mounted and my frustrations
grew.  I wasn't accustomed to this.  At home Jimmy, Josh and I eased one
anothers' tensions.  Now I found myself jacking off at every opportune
moment and wherever it was conceivable and afforded an element of
privacy.

Whenever the urge was exceptionally strong, I'd head for the latrine,
day or night and there, with my briefs around my ankles and sitting on
the toilet I'd give in to my lust and whack off with gusto.  Sometimes I
would see the after effects of a buddy in similar circumstances.
Splotches of cum splattered on the wall of the stall.  Its gooey trail,
sometimes still fresh and wet, sliding effortlessly down the partition
and dripping onto the floor.

In my heated frenzy, my hand flailing up and down my rigid shaft, I'd
lean sideways and press my face against the partition and with bated
breath, dart out my tongue to sweep the slimey residue into my mouth and
savour its deliciousness remembering how sweet my brother Jimmy's, or
Josh's cum tasted, as it filled my mouth.

Sometimes, as I entered a stall, it was quick on the heels of its
previous occupant and I could detect from the expression on the Marine's
face, his head slightly bowed to avoid, as it were, recognition, that
which betrayed his actions.

And sometimes upon entering a stall, hastily unzipping my pants and
freeing my aching, thobbing cock, I'd gaze into the bowl and see that in
his haste to take care of business and exit the stall, he'd leave behind
an unflushed can.  On such occassions I'd find the water in the toilet a
yellowish tint with a froth of bubbles and floating on the water's
surface or submerged, a hefty pile of shit.  Fresh, steamy logs whose
rank aroma would swirl up my nostrils and as I'd stand over the bowl and
begin pumping my cock, I'd stare into the bowl and see gobs of cum
attached to thick, knotty logs of turd or a mass of brown muck, like a
carpet of algae on the bayou and a wadded up piece of toilet paper
clinging to the side of the bowl with a defined streak of brown on it
and a hair or two, or more, adhering to it.

It was times like these, discovering a Marine's leftovers in the can,
fermenting, that I'd sink to my knees, cock in hand, pounding away
furiously and leaning forward would hover my head over the putrid,
murky, foul smelling contents of the bowl until I was shooting my load,
squeezing every drop of cum against the cool porcelin of the toilet bowl
and staggerig to my feet, my cock still dripping, I'd stuff my dick back
into my briefs and exit the stall knowing that I had left my mark behind
for the next Marine.

Whether or not he appreciated what I, or another had left behind was of
little concern.  All that mattered was that I had popped my nut.

Chapter 2

The air conditioning unit in the barracks was on the fritz.  Hutchins
wasn't all ogre. He had brought in several large fans to offer some
relief until repairs could be done.

The night was hot and the humidity hung heavy in the air as did the cum
churning in my nuts.  The fans Hutchins had set up only served to
circulate the hot air which swirled over my body beaded with sweat.  The
room was heady with the aroma of rank armpits, smelly feet, sweat laden
clothes and the subtle, funky scent of ripe farts, silently escaping
from the juicy, sweaty buttholes of Marines tossing and turning in the
acrid night.

To my left, Tim Billings was snoring and drooling onto his pillow.  A
white sheet, which he had kicked off in his sleep, was crumpled around
his feet.  I envied him being able to sleep so soundly in this heat and
from the looks of it, by the hardon poking through the opening of his
boxers, he was somewhere off in dreamland.

Seeing his hard cock staring at me made me want to slip out of my bed
and suck it so that he'd have a good reason for being hard and, from
what I could tell, Tim must have been having a good dream from the way
his cock twitched and oozed juice from his pisshole.

"Fuck!"  I muttered, to myself and rolled over onto my right side.  My
own boner throbbing in my sweat drenched briefs.

My eyes were met by Brad.  His back was facing towards me and, like Tim,
he had kicked off his covers but unlike Tim, Brad was naked.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"  I sighed, staring at the full mounds of my best
friend's ass.  From the moonlight shafting through the window I could
see the muscular form of Brad's body clearly.  His right leg was
extented down and his left, bent at the knee, was raised towards his
chest, affording me a clear view of his spread asscheeks.  The crack of
his ass was a forest of swirling dark hair which matted out and thined
over the creamy, white mounds of his butt which, in the humid heat, I
could see beads of sweat rolling from his asscrack onto the sheet
beneath him.

Like Tim, Brad was snoring softly and lost in a world of dreams.  One
bunk over from Brad, Myles Sarvis, a cute nineteen year old from North
Carolina, was flat on his back pounding away at his long, thick cock.
His right hand glided up and down his rigid shaft while his left, from
what I could see, as I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of my bed,
had disappeared between his outstreatched legs, under his balls.  It was
obvious to me that Myles was fingering his hole while he was beating
off.

As I stood up, my hardon tenting the front of my briefs, Myles rolled
his head sideways and our eyes met.  There was a momentary glint of
panic in his eyes as our eyes locked.  I raised a finger to my lips as
if to silence his inaudible gasp and acknowledge what he was doing and
honor our code of silence.

I nodded my head towards Myles and reached down and tugged the front of
my briefs down under my balls.  My ridgid cock snapped up and slapped
against my stomach.

Myles pursed and licked his lips as I wrapped my fingers around my cock.
His eyes darted at the sleeping, nude figure of Brad as if to question
me.

Once more I raised a finger to my lips and while stroking my cock, sank
quietly to my knees beside Brad's bunk.  Brad's hairy, sweaty ass was
staring me in the face.  From above the contour of Brad's hip, I could
see that Myles had propped himself up onto his elbow and faced me.  All
the while stroking his hard, oozing dick.

At that moment it was as if we were reading one anothers' mind.  In one
instant our eyes had met and Myles was nodding his consent as I inched
my face towards Brad's outspread, inviting ass.

Nervously, I glanced around the room.  Seeing that only Myles and I were
awake and seeing the lust in Myles' eyes, I lowered my face to within
inches of Brad's ass.  I could feel my nervous, quivering nostrils
brushing against the thick growth of hair in the cleft of Brad's ass.  I
could feel the heat rising from his buttcrack and a bead of sweat roll
onto my flaring nostril as I pressed my nose against his warm, moist
asshole and drew in a deep breath.

I could feel my lips trembling as they brushed his warm, sweaty flesh
and a ripe, tart, pungent aroma curled up my nostrils and filled my head
with stink.  His stink.  The private, personal scent of my best friend's
asshole.

"Fuck!"  I sighed, becoming one with Brad's stench.

"Smell it!"  Myles hissed, softly.  "Smell his stink!"

Sniffing deeply, rubbing my nose against his rank asslips and then
raising and tilting my head back, I caught sight of Myles, passing his
fingers under his nose. I knew that he was sniffing his own stink and
that it was turning him on.

"Myles!"  I whispered, diverting his attention for a second and cocking
my head towards the latrine.

The young man sat up.  His fingers still wrapped around his cock with
one hand and, with the other, still sniffing the fingertips of his other
hand, he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and stood up.

>From his pisshole, a thread of pre-cum oozed and dripped to the floor.
Taking my lead, somewhat reluctantly as he gazed down upon Brad, Myles
followed me towards the latrine.

Between rows of sleeping Marines, I led Myles.  As we rounded the corner
and down the hall leading to the door that went into the latrine, being
the whore that I was, I slid the back of my briefs down and exposed my
ass to Myles.

"Fuck!"  Myles gasped. as he reached out and slipped a finger into my
warm, sweaty, buttcrack.

"Found something back there you want, Marine?"  I whispered, reaching
back and wrapping my fingers around his hard cock.

"Fuck yeah!"  Myles hissed, lunging forward and sinking his finger up my
moist, shit chute.  His cock jabbing at my balls.

"Bound to be shitty back there, kid!  Still want it?"

"it's what turns me on, Kyle!"  Myles whispered, into my ear.  "Stink,
shitty butthole!"

"I guarantee it'll be a dirty fuck, man!"

"Oh yeah!"  Myles replied, pulling his finger out of my hole and
sniffing his finger coated with shit.  "Stinking Marine cunt, buddy!"

As I flung open the latrine door, a voice echoed in the room.

"Fucking jarheads!"  The voice hissed.  "What took you so long?"

Myles and I froze in our tracks.  Searching the dimly lit room, we gazed
in the direction of the voice.  It came from the urinal bowls lining one
wall.

With his back towards us and naked, as if leaning into the urinal with
the ample mounds of his ass hanging over the bowl, was Hutchins.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh!"  He sighed.  A juicy, wet fart rumbled from his asshole.
With the sound of piss splashing into the urinal, Hutchins blew another
fart as a turd snaked out of his gaping butthole and curled upon itself
onto the floor.

"It's time for latrine duty, boys!"  Hutchins hissed, looking over his
shoulder at Myles and I, as he relieved his stinking filth onto the cool
tiles of the latrine floor.

******************************

I welcome your comments.  Write to me at Rim4you@webtv.net