Date: Tue, 15 Aug 2023 18:52:41 +0000 (UTC) From: Barry Edmund Subject: Taking Down Sargent Malta Chapter 18 Follows, the yet unfinished edit of the current (final?) chapter (including 1 paragraph lead-in from previous chapter): What's up, Vince?" I parried. He was sporting a substantial dick, and it was plumping up nicely. Looked like a real mouthful and naturally I was kind of hypnotized by it. Anybody would be. "You wanna shove that thing up my butthole, buddy?" I ventured. He took a few steps towards me, his luscious balls bouncing against his legs, and when he was standing at my feet I raised my hips, grabbed the back of my thighs, and flipped my ass so that my wet pucker was lifted to his gaze. Some bubbly spooge gurgled out, forming a rivulet I could feel snaking across my nut sack. "Sheesh, Malta," he said, "you really are a freak." He punctuated his assessment with a giant wad of spittle that plopped on my left buttock. I couldn't help wondering how it would taste. I wanted to ask him for a mouthful but he seemed disgusted so I held back. He was shaking his head and just stood there, staring at my upturned undercarriage, now spattered and raw. He rolled his eyes. Was my puffy pink chasm not to his liking? At close range, did the pleasure hole of a real man register as a shock to his system? Mr. Prim! Who would have guessed? Maybe he'd never seen anything quite like it before. So sheltered! Unbelievable! What are we teaching our children? All at once, it crossed my mind that Vince was probably one of those pretty boys beloved by his Italian mother. Coddled at home like a little prince when he should have been prowling around outdoors, in a dark alley, pummeling his mates or at least smashing a few windows. We've gotta make men out of these kids! Instead, he was almost certainly an altar boy at the local Pray & Prey House of Worship-- oh, yes!--hosting more priestly appendages up his ass than hairs on his pubes. Bitter and full of resentment, that's my guess. Put off by a few years of sacerdotal dicking. What a wimp! Grab life like a red-blooded American, man! Grow up, for God's sake. Who hasn't had an occasional stiff dick up his ass? Big effing deal! Sure doesn't turn you into a faggot. Look no further, gentlemen! Anyhow, despite his "delicate" instincts, I was pleased to see that Vince was chubbing up. Sex will out, as they say. No question about it; he was practically erect, his purple majesty now almost fully protruded from its sheath. A sight to behold. So mysterious. Funny, I never get tired of looking at a boner and couldn't take my eyes off of it. It jerked fitfully up and down outside of his control and I felt an overwhelming longing to have it plunged inside my body. Maybe it was the "perversion" itself that was turning him on, goading him forward. Maybe, after all, Vince was actually queer. A faggot! One of those "really good" boys but "bad" men make him do "bad" things. So pathetic. Whatever it was, he seemed shell-shocked, not knowing what to do next. I'm telling you, this is what often besets a man when he has had no situational conflict training! He loses sight of the mission. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: enlist now, boys, or this could be your future! At last someone to the right of me seized the moment. "Hey Vince, you gonna fuck it or not?" That was Matt. I recognized his deep voice. Very sexy young stud. I've had my eye on him, and his beguiling bulge, since he started coming to the gym. Hunky jock. Assertive. Cocksure. Swiveling hips. Long, slightly bowed legs, huge feet, all muscle and bone. Matt would be a great fuck! Yes, indeed. Maybe Vince should go jump in a lake, and take his precious sausage and tender sensibilities with him. I was getting sick and tired of his hemming and hawing. I hated to think how such a tender heart would fare on a battlefield. "A bitch is a bitch, man, pussy's pussy," Matt sagely opined, looking sideways at Vince. "You've got that right, Matt," I said, spinning on my sweaty back and now aiming my manly orifice in his direction. He was beating his cock and it was a real gem. Rigid, thick, and already leaking, with a great fleshy head on it. My kind of lad! Old farts (the military is full of them) grouse endlessly about today's youth, but look here: that piece of meat jutting from Matt's loins, that represents America's future right there. What could hold more promise? Tell me that's not something worth fighting for! "Come on, Matt, shove it in," I cooed. "Make yourself at home, son!" To start the ball rolling, as it were, I treated him to my brightest smile and pulled my knees farther apart. The air was heavy with the tangy scent of anal sex and semen, the room abuzz with expectation and fitful laughter. They were all such great guys! "Yeah, Matt, fuck the faggot's guts!" "Her cunt's begging for it, Matty." "Put her out of her misery, man!" You know, and I'm probably speaking for every career soldier, this level of male energy may be the most electrifying force on the planet. What joy, what a thrill to breathe this spirit and to feel it running hot in your blood. Cock, dick, and more cock. Yards of it. Manholes, sweaty and hairy. Armpits, dark and piquant. Veins, muscles, stiff nips, balls primed and ready to fire. If man is the measure of all things, what could rank higher than this? "Just fuck the jissom out of me, son!" My voice rang out loudly in the locker room. "Is that an order, Sir?" Oh, Matt was a sly one. A real joker! A sneer stretched across his lips. So butch! I was about ready to cream on the spot. "Bet your life it is, soldier," I parried, "on the double!" But Matt was already making his move. Like Vince, he spat a well-aimed wad. So sexy! I felt it slop onto my hole and slither before he thumbed it in. A little recon, greasing the way for the big gun. Prudent lad! Of course, my hole, already seasoned to a fare-thee-well, was hardly in need of prepping. Matt was going to slide right in, no doubt about it, the gate to paradise wide open and the tunnel slick with seed. "That's a pretty nasty snatch, Malta," he declared, furrowing his brow. Then, in one swift motion, his rubbery dickhead squished through and in no time he'd hit bottom. Male reproductive fluids-- no better lube product on offer. Nope, it's all right there in the master plan. The dick and nuts bring to the theater of operations, if you will, everything they're going to need to get the job done. Tight and very efficient, just the way we like it. A well-oiled fucking machine. Once he'd pushed in, Matt started pumping with zeal. I mean, really going at it, good steady pelvic thrusts, his muscled loins hitting hard between my thighs and cheeks. Very talented kid! I tried to catch his gaze but he averted his eyes. Visualizing some dumb bitch with big swinging tits, no doubt. What an asshole! "Fucking you like a woman, Malta!" he hissed, breathing deeply and looking off into the distance. Yeah, just like a woman, I thought, my nuts loose and floppy, dick hard as steel and jerking fore and aft with each of his lunges. To be a woman! Right! Huge tits sticking straight out, defying gravity, juicy cunt. Pull off my bra, nipples like stiff fingers, itching to be mauled, sucked, and chomped on by some slobbering maniac crazy to get his nuts off! Peel down my panties, pink gash gushing wet, clit twitching! How would that feel, hunh? And if being stuffed with cock in one hole feels fantastic, what if you had two holes down there? How would that feel? Two tight foxholes, both of them plugged, battered, stretched? And a hot cock down your gullet at the same time. Why not? The trifecta. Bitches have no idea how lucky they are! To be taking three cocks at once. Just unbelievable! To tell you the truth, though, in the grand scheme of things, Matt was nothing more than a weed, an invasive weed. Fast growing and aggressive. No brains. Zero finesse. A very common commodity. Plant it anywhere and it grows. Rip it out and another takes its place. Completely interchangeable. In no way was he a candidate for officer's training! His big, nasty root was the only thing he had going for him, stupid schmuck. It certainly was the only thing I cared about. Cock, balls, jizz. Cock, balls, jizz. Shut up and just make me spooge, man! Meanwhile, believe it or not, I kept noticing Vince wandering around, stroking his hard, handsome penis, and now that Matt was going at it full tilt Vince had come back to get a good look. He came in close and stood with his feet straddling my head. What a jackass! So indecisive! Perhaps he finally realized what he was missing. No doubt Matt's rowdy enthusiasm for a little harmless fun had piqued his interest. Still, wishy-washy bloke that he may be, I'll say this, Vince has got a gorgeous gaggle of endowments hanging between his legs. The boy won the genitalia lottery for sure. A long, burly slab of dick meat, crowned with a plushy glans like the head of an angry viper, ready to strike, a glob of pre-cum sparkling at the meatus, and a comely pair of plump nuts, perfectly shaped ovoids in a fine, crinkly leather pouch drawn down and swaying suggestively between his muscled thighs. From my point of view, he looked about ready to pop. All the guys were grouped around us, beating their dicks and spouting juvenile sex talk. "Go for it, Vince!" someone shouted and then, all at once, to my surprise, he pivoted, lowered himself, and kneeled across my chest, his cock grazing my lips. I could feel his ass hairs tickling me below my neck. Boner! If you're a meat eater, as I am, you like it all, but you still appreciate the difference between real quality and all the rest, and Vince's meat was U.S. prime. I give him that. A very fancy morsel and richly veined! Of course, he didn't know what to do with it (had no one ever sucked this kid off?) but that didn't matter. Instinct takes over. The animal brain. You've gotta love it. At first, he couldn't even get the behemoth angled properly. No imagination! And besides, it was so damned hard it just wouldn't flex, like a lever that had gotten stuck. I lined it up for him, though, and managed to guide him in. Lifting my head and using every muscle I could muster, I gobbled him down until I felt his dickhead knocking against the back of my throat, my own dick so stiff it ached. The boy couldn't think to do much of anything so I put on a real show for him. Lips, tongue, glottal contractions, I deployed every trick in the book and, sure enough, he kept feeding it to me, his heavy nuts beating rhythmically against my chin. "Cocksucking faggot much, Malta?" someone called out. Okay! Finally! Yeah! Here we go! All the way in at both ends. Bull dicked! Feel like such a hot bitch! Just a pair of fuck holes for these two studs. But not for long. As it turns out, Vince's appendage was set on a hair-trigger. Of course! I might have known! He was bound to be a premature ejaculator. No stamina! What a nitwit! Still, no reason not to make the most of it. I loved the way he was mindlessly stabbing his glans into my throat, as if I were some sort of appliance. And he flailed away, completely indifferent to my uncontrollable gagging and the saliva, spit, bile, and mucous his jabs were bringing up. I could feel trickles of this stuff mucking its way toward my ears and across my neck. So nasty! And then, all too soon, his entire body went stiff and he began unloading his incontinent nuts. Into the deep, a direct dump into the esophagus, I could feel it making its lewd descent into my belly. No doubt, a momentous discharge. Wish I'd gotten at least a taste of it. Maybe on the rebound. Even so, after the spasms subsided, Vince's dick stayed engorged and he kept it sunk all the way to the back of my throat, though he had ceased thrashing about. Exhausted, probably. Hadn't had a jizz in recent memory, I'd guess. And it must have just dawned on him that, caught up in the moment, he'd gone involuntary and shot his spooge with all his gym buddies as his audience. I knew the kid was a homo! Couldn't resist a real man and now he looks so embarrassed about it. "Fucking queer, Malta!" he said, pulling himself together. Yeah, I' m the queer one. What a laugh! This is what we call projection. He stood up, shook his heavy dick, and walked off in the direction of the showers. I ask myself, what is it with this dumb fruit? Going straight to the showers! To thine own self be true, Vince, I thought. Can't wash away the queer, son! But what a great ass on the kid! If I could just get a whiff! Meanwhile, Matt was building speed in my nether spot. All the while I'd been feeling him deep, thick and very deep, and now I was getting shaky, unhinged, like a loose cannon. Something big was about to go kablooey. It came on slowly, steadily, then all at once. Point of no return. A 10 on the sphincter scale! "Yes, oh shit," I bleated, "I'm fucking cumming!" What do they feed kids these days? This stupid punk was getting me off hands-free. As if I were some common slut and not an officer in the US Army! Pearly jizz pulsed from my flailing dick, splashing on my face and in my hair. I got a good bleachy bit in my mouth, enough to sear my tongue and constrict my throat. Made my eyes water! What a turn-on. Such a healthy load! Such a powerful projectile! Am I all-man or what? Meanwhile, mighty Matt was going for broke, flinging sweat from his forehead, chin, and chest with every thrust. Each time he pulled back I got a nice gander at his promising set of nuts, pitching ponderously and so big they looked painful. Jeez! I wondered what he was packing. I imagined a pint of scorching man-seed flooding my hole and spilling out like ropy syrup. Oh, I'd lick it up, man! Every fucking drop! Matt's seed! What a treat! Thick as molasses, I'll bet. You know, molasses makes me think of my basic training days in Georgia. Gorgeous, strapping young black guys on the base everywhere you looked. Glistening skin, shimmering like silk. Very hunky, too. Massive pecs, thighs, and biceps. The stuff of wet dreams. Swagger and confidence. Muscled asses. Give me a whiff of that musk, man! And where'd they get those sinewy builds? I stole a lot of looks at their bulging crotches, that's for sure. Love it when you can track the dick head down the leg of the guy's pants. So sexy to be coolly studying the contour of his cock after luring him into a perfectly normal conversation. He's got no clue, see, because I'm functioning on multiple levels. I was always a few steps ahead of these stupid lugs. Big dicks, yes, but I've got the brains. All you have to do is turn the talk to sex and wait until your mark starts to twitch. Because he's going to twitch, and that's what you're after. He's away from his girl and the hornier he is, the sooner it's gonna happen. Then, when he starts to chub up, point it out to him, jokingly, man-to-man like, and usually he'll grab himself and make a show of what he's got. For some reason, I get really excited whenever a guy manhandles his own dick. Like he's got a special touch all his own. It's almost queer, and, without realizing it, he kind of shows you what he's got. That's so hot. So intimate! And you know, if the setting's right, you might be able to get him to drop his trousers and jack off, right then and there. I'm telling you, you'd be surprised how desperate guys get in training and what they'll do to swipe a quick nut. Of course, all those guys looked up to me. In their eyes, I was a god. No wonder! It was pretty obvious even then that I was going places, destined for big things, major promotions, and, given my attitude and physique, there was plenty of pussy in store. Square-jawed, broad-shouldered, goodlooking, easy charm, brilliant mind, and straight as an arrow, I've got it all. A born leader. And those recruits knew it. I've always stood out as officer material! Nothing less. So go on, goons, eat my dust! "Fuck yes, man!" That was Matt again, overheating and about to lose his shit. He was bellowing and looked insane, his features distorted into an alarming grimace, arms thrown into the air, fists clenched. Sweat poured across his pert nippled pecs. Let me lap it up, man! Such a hot stud! Then, in one brutal lurch, his hips rammed against my ass, and he stood still, head thrown back, emptying himself far up into my guts. I was right about his nuts being fully loaded. You know, there's something about a nice beefy set of nuts, the massive wrecking ball variety, I mean. They never fail to catch the eye. To make a big impression! Mesmerizing! Of course, they say testicle size has no bearing on the volume of ejaculate. Some guys just have greater capacity, that's all, particularly if they've been abstinent, imagine!, and the greater the volume, the greater the distance it travels. That's what they say and it sounds good to me but I'm telling you, when you see a heavy sack in the flesh, you just want to grab it and shove those motherfuckers in your mouth! So manly! Matt pulled out. I lowered my hips to the floor and stared at him standing over me, his hands now at his waist. He avoided my gaze, looking instead from side to side at his mates. Hard to say what he might be thinking. His dick swayed, slimy and heavy, as if somehow having sex had weighted it down. A trail of spooge dangled from the tip, the piss slit still gaping. I figured he wasn't really up for another go at it so I turned my attention to the other guys. There were about a dozen of them, naked or at least with their dicks out, intently beating off or casually stroking. Great guys! Just look at them. A lineup of one sexy stud after the other. You know, if you were a faggot, these are the kind of guys who would turn you into a little sissy slut in no time. Just take a look at those dicks! Heavy equipment for sure! Stiff rods, flared out mushroom heads. Love it when the meatus is wide open. Why do they call it a meatus? Sounds like some pansy gave it that name and not a proper anatomist. "Permission to jizz in your faggot mouth, Sarge!" Who said that? A tall black guy, sassy smile lighting up his face, totally naked, engorged cock in hand, swaggered toward me. Stunning teeth! Where'd he come from? He was already on the brink. "That's right, Sid," some guy quipped, "sweet talk her," and all the guys tittered. I was stupified by the rippling musculature on the approaching brute. His prominent ballsack swung from side to side. Wave the white flag, man! This guy wins the contest. As he squatted down I could smell the male stink from his unwashed chassis. Now why would that excite me? Marvelous thighs on the guy, by the way! I opened my mouth, fully extended my jaw. Wouldn't want to miss a drop. And then he exploded. Bitter, sour, pungent, acidic. So much flavor! What does this guy eat? He's a pretty good shot, too, and there was lots of it. Most of it peppered my tongue and tonsils, a few salvos spewed across my face. I swallowed as the guys jeere Taking Down Sergeant Malta Chapter 17, Part 3 What's up, Vince?" I parried. He was sporting a substantial dick, and it was plumping up nicely. Looked like a real mouthful and naturally I was kind of hypnotized by it. Anybody would be. "You wanna shove that thing up my butthole, buddy?" I ventured. He took a few steps towards me, his luscious balls bouncing against his legs, and when he was standing at my feet I raised my hips, grabbed the back of my thighs, and flipped my ass so that my wet pucker was lifted to his gaze. Some bubbly spooge gurgled out, forming a rivulet I could feel snaking across my nut sack. "Sheesh, Malta," he said, "you really are a freak." He punctuated his assessment with a giant wad of spittle that plopped on my left buttock. I couldn't help wondering how it would taste. I wanted to ask him for a mouthful but he seemed disgusted so I held back. He was shaking his head and just stood there, staring at my upturned undercarriage, now spattered and raw. He rolled his eyes. Was my puffy pink chasm not to his liking? At close range, did the pleasure hole of a real man register as a shock to his system? Mr. Prim! Who would have guessed? Maybe he'd never seen anything quite like it before. So sheltered! Unbelievable! What are we teaching our children? All at once, it crossed my mind that Vince was probably one of those pretty boys beloved by his Italian mother. Coddled at home like a little prince when he should have been prowling around outdoors, in a dark alley, pummeling his mates or at least smashing a few windows. We've gotta make men out of these kids! Instead, he was almost certainly an altar boy at the local Pray & Prey House of Worship-- oh, yes!--hosting more priestly appendages up his ass than hairs on his pubes. Bitter and full of resentment, that's my guess. Put off by a few years of sacerdotal dicking. What a wimp! Grab life like a red-blooded American, man! Grow up, for God's sake. Who hasn't had an occasional stiff dick up his ass? Big effing deal! Sure doesn't turn you into a faggot. Look no further, gentlemen! Anyhow, despite his "delicate" instincts, I was pleased to see that Vince was chubbing up. Sex will out, as they say. No question about it; he was practically erect, his purple majesty now almost fully protruded from its sheath. A sight to behold. So mysterious. Funny, I never get tired of looking at a boner and couldn't take my eyes off of it. It jerked fitfully up and down outside of his control and I felt an overwhelming longing to have it plunged inside my body. Maybe it was the "perversion" itself that was turning him on, goading him forward. Maybe, after all, Vince was actually queer. A faggot! One of those "really good" boys but "bad" men make him do "bad" things. So pathetic. Whatever it was, he seemed shell-shocked, not knowing what to do next. I'm telling you, this is what often besets a man when he has had no situational conflict training! He loses sight of the mission. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: enlist now, boys, or this could be your future! At last someone to the right of me seized the moment. "Hey Vince, you gonna fuck it or not?" That was Matt. I recognized his deep voice. Very sexy young stud. I've had my eye on him, and his beguiling bulge, since he started coming to the gym. Hunky jock. Assertive. Cocksure. Swiveling hips. Long, slightly bowed legs, huge feet, all muscle and bone. Matt would be a great fuck! Yes, indeed. Maybe Vince should go jump in a lake, and take his precious sausage and tender sensibilities with him. I was getting sick and tired of his hemming and hawing. I hated to think how such a tender heart would fare on a battlefield. "A bitch is a bitch, man, pussy's pussy," Matt sagely opined, looking sideways at Vince. "You've got that right, Matt," I said, spinning on my sweaty back and now aiming my manly orifice in his direction. He was beating his cock and it was a real gem. Rigid, thick, and already leaking, with a great fleshy head on it. My kind of lad! Old farts (the military is full of them) grouse endlessly about today's youth, but look here: that piece of meat jutting from Matt's loins, that represents America's future right there. What could hold more promise? Tell me that's not something worth fighting for! "Come on, Matt, shove it in," I cooed. "Make yourself at home, son!" To start the ball rolling, as it were, I treated him to my brightest smile and pulled my knees farther apart. The air was heavy with the tangy scent of anal sex and semen, the room abuzz with expectation and fitful laughter. They were all such great guys! "Yeah, Matt, fuck the faggot's guts!" "Her cunt's begging for it, Matty." "Put her out of her misery, man!" You know, and I'm probably speaking for every career soldier, this level of male energy may be the most electrifying force on the planet. What joy, what a thrill to breathe this spirit and to feel it running hot in your blood. Cock, dick, and more cock. Yards of it. Manholes, sweaty and hairy. Armpits, dark and piquant. Veins, muscles, stiff nips, balls primed and ready to fire. If man is the measure of all things, what could rank higher than this? "Just fuck the jissom out of me, son!" My voice rang out loudly in the locker room. "Is that an order, Sir?" Oh, Matt was a sly one. A real joker! A sneer stretched across his lips. So butch! I was about ready to cream on the spot. "Bet your life it is, soldier," I countered, "on the double!" But Matt was already making his move. Like Vince, he spat a well-aimed wad. So sexy! I felt it slop onto my hole and slither before he thumbed it in. A little recon, greasing the way for the big gun. Prudent lad! Of course, my hole, already seasoned to a fare-thee-well, was hardly in need of prepping. Matt was going to slide right in, no doubt about it, the gate to paradise wide open and the tunnel slick with seed. "That's a pretty nasty snatch, Malta," he declared, furrowing his brow. Then, in one swift motion, his rubbery dickhead squished through and in no time he'd hit bottom. Male reproductive fluids-- no better lube product on offer. Nope, it's all right there in the master plan. The dick and nuts bring to the theater of operations, if you will, everything they're going to need to get the job done. Tight and very efficient, just the way we like it. A well-oiled fucking machine. Once he'd pushed in, Matt started pumping with zeal. I mean, really going at it, good steady pelvic thrusts, his muscled loins hitting hard between my thighs and cheeks. Very talented kid! I tried to catch his gaze but he averted his eyes. Visualizing some dumb bitch with big swinging tits, no doubt. What an asshole! "Fucking you like a woman, Malta!" he hissed, breathing deeply and looking off into the distance. Yeah, just like a woman, I thought, my nuts loose and floppy, dick hard as steel and jerking fore and aft with each of his lunges. To be a woman! Right! Huge tits sticking straight out, defying gravity, juicy cunt. Pull off my bra, nipples like stiff fingers, itching to be mauled, sucked, and chomped on by some slobbering maniac crazy to get his nuts off! Peel down my panties, pink gash gushing wet, clit twitching! How would that feel, huh? And if being stuffed with cock in one hole feels fantastic, what if you had two holes down there? How would that feel? Two tight foxholes, both of them plugged, battered, stretched? And a hot cock down your gullet at the same time. Why not? The trifecta. Bitches have no idea how lucky they are! To be taking three cocks at once. Just unbelievable! To tell you the truth, though, in the grand scheme of things, Matt was nothing more than a weed, an invasive weed. Fast growing and aggressive. No brains. Zero finesse. A very common commodity. Plant it anywhere and it grows. Rip it out and another takes its place. Completely interchangeable. In no way was he a candidate for officer's training! His big, nasty root was the only thing he had going for him, stupid schmuck. It certainly was the only thing I cared about. Cock, balls, jizz. Cock, balls, jizz. Shut up and just make me spooge, man! Meanwhile, believe it or not, I kept noticing Vince wandering around, stroking his hard, handsome penis, and now that Matt was going at it full tilt Vince had come back to get a good look. He came in close and stood with his feet straddling my head. What a jackass! So indecisive! Perhaps he finally realized what he was missing. No doubt Matt's rowdy enthusiasm for a little harmless fun had piqued his interest. Still, wishy-washy bloke that he may be, I'll say this, Vince has got a gorgeous gaggle of endowments hanging between his legs. The boy won the genitalia lottery for sure. A long, burly slab of dick meat, crowned with a plushy glans like the head of an angry viper, ready to strike, a glob of pre-cum sparkling at the meatus, and a comely pair of plump nuts, perfectly shaped ovoids in a fine, crinkly leather pouch drawn down and swaying suggestively between his muscled thighs. From my point of view, he looked about ready to pop. All the guys were grouped around us, beating their dicks and spouting juvenile sex talk. "Go for it, Vince!" someone shouted and then, all at once, to my surprise, he pivoted, lowered himself, and kneeled across my chest, his cock grazing my lips. I could feel his ass hairs tickling me below my neck. Boner! If you're a meat eater, as I am, you like it all, but you still appreciate the difference between real quality and all the rest, and Vince's meat was U.S. prime. I give him that. A very fancy morsel and richly veined! Of course, he didn't know what to do with it (had no one ever sucked this kid off?) but that didn't matter. Instinct takes over. The animal brain. You've gotta love it. At first, he couldn't even get the behemoth angled properly. No imagination! And besides, it was so damned hard it just wouldn't flex, like a lever that had gotten stuck. I lined it up for him, though, and managed to guide him in. Lifting my head and using every muscle I could muster, I gobbled him down until I felt his dickhead knocking against the back of my throat, my own dick so stiff it ached. The boy couldn't think to do much of anything so I put on a real show for him. Lips, tongue, glottal contractions, I deployed every trick in the book and, sure enough, he kept feeding it to me, his heavy nuts beating rhythmically against my chin. "Cocksucking faggot much, Malta!" someone called out. Okay! Finally! Yeah! Here we go! All the way in at both ends. Bull dicked! Feel like such a hot bitch! Just a pair of fuck holes for these two studs. But not for long. As it turns out, Vince's appendage was set on a hair-trigger. Of course! I might have known! He was bound to be a premature ejaculator. No stamina! What a nitwit! Still, no reason not to make the most of it. I loved the way he was mindlessly stabbing his glans into my throat, as if I were some sort of appliance. And he flailed away, totally indifferent to my uncontrollable gagging and the saliva, spit, bile, and mucous his jabs were bringing up. I could feel trickles of this stuff mucking its way toward my ears and across my neck. So nasty! And then, all too soon, his entire body went stiff and he began unloading his incontinent nuts. Into the deep, a direct dump into the esophagus, I could feel it making its lewd descent into my belly. No doubt, a momentous discharge. Wish I'd gotten at least a taste of it. Maybe on the rebound. Even so, after the spasms subsided, Vince's dick stayed engorged and he kept it sunk all the way to the back of my throat, though he had ceased thrashing about. Exhausted, probably. Hadn't had a jizz in recent memory, I'd guess. And it must have just dawned on him that, caught up in the moment, he'd gone involuntary and shot his spooge with all his gym buddies as his audience. I knew the kid was a homo! Couldn't resist a real man and now he looks so embarrassed about it. "Fucking queer, Malta!" he said, pulling himself together. Yeah, I' m the queer one. What a laugh! This is what we call projection. He stood up, shook his heavy dick, and walked off in the direction of the showers. I ask myself, what is it with this dumb fruit? Going straight to the showers! To thine own self be true, Vince, I thought. Can't wash away the queer, son! But what a great ass on the kid! If I could just get a whiff! Meanwhile, Matt was building speed in my nether spot. All the while I'd been feeling him deep, thick and very deep, and now I was getting shaky, unhinged, like a loose cannon. Something big was about to go kablooey. It came on slowly, steadily, then all at once. Point of no return. A 10 on the sphincter scale! "Yes, oh shit," I bleated, "I'm fucking cumming!" What do they feed kids these days? This stupid punk was getting me off hands-free. As if I were some common slut and not a sergeant in the US Army! Pearly jizz erupted from my flailing dick, splashing on my face and in my hair. I got a good bleachy bit in my mouth, enough to sear my tongue and constrict my throat. Made my eyes water! What a turn-on. Such a healthy load! Such a powerful projectile! Am I all-man or what? Meanwhile, mighty Matt was going for broke, flinging sweat from his forehead, chin, and chest with every thrust. Each time he pulled back I got a nice gander at his promising set of nuts, pitching ponderously and so big they looked painful. Jeez! I wondered what he was packing. I imagined a pint of scorching man-seed flooding my hole and spilling out like ropy syrup. Oh, I'd lick it up, man! Every fucking drop! Matt's seed! What a treat! Thick as molasses, I'll bet. You know, molasses makes me think of my basic training days in Georgia. Gorgeous, strapping young black guys on the base everywhere you looked. Glistening skin, shimmering like silk. Very hunky, too. Massive pecs, thighs, and biceps. The stuff of wet dreams. Swagger and confidence. Muscled asses. Give me a whiff of that musk, man! And where'd they get those sinewy builds? I stole a lot of looks at their bulging crotches, that's for sure. Love it when you can track the dick head down the leg of the guy's pants. So sexy to be coolly studying the contour of his cock after luring him into a perfectly normal conversation. He's got no clue, see, because I'm functioning on multiple levels. I was always a few steps ahead of these stupid lugs. Big dicks, yes, but I've got the brains. All you have to do is turn the talk to sex and wait until your mark starts to twitch. Because he's going to twitch, and that's what you're after. He's away from his girl and the hornier he is, the sooner it's gonna happen. Then, when he starts to chub up, point it out to him, jokingly, man-to-man like, and usually he'll grab himself and make a show of what he's got. For some reason, I get really excited whenever a guy manhandles his own dick. Like he's got a special touch all his own. It's almost queer, and, without realizing it, he kind of shows you what he's got. That's so hot. So intimate! And you know, if the setting's right, you might be able to get him to drop his trousers and jack off, right then and there. I'm telling you, you'd be surprised how desperate guys get in training and what they'll do to swipe a quick nut. Of course, all those guys looked up to me. In their eyes, I was a god. No wonder! It was pretty obvious even then that I was going places, destined for big things, major promotions, and, given my attitude and physique, there was plenty of pussy in store. Square-jawed, broad-shouldered, goodlooking, easy charm, brilliant mind, and straight as an arrow, I've got it all. A born leader. And those recruits knew it. I've always stood out as officer material! Nothing less. So go on, goons, eat my dust! "Fuck yes, man!" That was Matt again, overheating and about to lose his shit. He was bellowing and looked insane, his features distorted into an alarming grimace, arms thrown into the air, fists clenched. Sweat poured across his pert nippled pecs. Let me lap it up, man! Such a hot stud! Then, in one brutal lurch, his hips rammed against my ass, and he stood still, head thrown back, emptying himself far up into my guts. I was right about his nuts being fully loaded. You know, there's something about a nice beefy set of nuts, the massive wrecking ball variety, I mean. They never fail to catch the eye. To make a big impression! Mesmerizing! Of course, they say testicle size has no bearing on the volume of ejaculate. Some guys just have greater capacity, that's all, particularly if they've been abstinent, imagine!, and the greater the volume, the greater the distance it travels. That's what they say and it sounds good to me but I'm telling you, when you see a heavy sack in the flesh, you just want to grab it and shove those motherfuckers in your mouth! So manly! Matt pulled out. I lowered my hips to the floor and stared at him standing over me, his hands now at his waist. He avoided my gaze, looking instead from side to side at his mates. Hard to say what he might be thinking. His dick swayed, slimy and heavy, as if somehow having sex had weighted it down. A trail of spooge dangled from the tip, the piss slit still gaping. I figured he wasn't really up for another go at it so I turned my attention to the other guys. There were about a dozen of them, naked or at least with their dicks out, intently beating off or casually stroking. Great guys! Just look at them. A lineup of one sexy stud after the other. You know, if you were a faggot, these are the kind of guys who would turn you into a little sissy slut in no time. Just take a look at those dicks! Heavy equipment for sure! Stiff rods, flared out mushroom heads. Love it when the meatus is wide open. Why do they call it a meatus? Sounds like some pansy gave it that name and not a proper anatomist. "Permission to jizz in your faggot mouth, Sarge" Who said that? A tall black guy, sassy smile on his face, totally naked, engorged cock in hand, swaggered toward me. Where'd he come from? He was already on the brink. "That's right, Sid," some guy quipped, "sweet talk her," and all the guys tittered. I was stupified by the rippling musculature on the approaching brute. His prominent ballsack swung from side to side. Wave the white flag, man! This guy wins the contest. As he squatted down I could smell the male stink from his unwashed chassis. Now why would that excite me? Marvelous thighs on the guy, by the way! I opened my mouth, fully extended my jaw. Wouldn't want to miss a drop. And then he exploded. Bitter, sour, pungent, acidic. So much flavor! What does this guy eat? He's a pretty good shot, too, and there was lots of it. Most of it peppered my tongue and tonsils, a few salvos spewed across my face. I swallowed as the guys jeered. Other guys are pressing forward now, coming in close, within range, cumtanks primed, loaded, and ready to pop. Cockheads swollen and about to squirt. Here comes a hefty blast, scattershot and off the mark. Jizz sprays down on my chin and neck, a few dollops landing just south of my waiting maw. Before he's done, another guy fires, strafing my lips and cheek. Must be in my hair, too. Tastes so good, buddy! Slithers down like oysters. Globs of it. Clammy. Smutty. They're all shooting now, one after the other, drenching me in the stuff. Male lust. Heat. I'm hard again, nuts tight against my body, dick stiff and throbbing. This is the life, man. It's all about dick. Dick. That's it in a nutshell, so to speak. These fucking asshole runts. To me personally, a man of my stature, they mean nothing! A distinguished military career, a family man, I tower above them, absolutely out of their league. You could even say I'm doing them a giant favor by patronizing this place. But why not be expansive? After all, these guys are in such terrific shape, nice-looking, eager to have a good time, relax, enjoy themselves, get stiff, spill a round or two of spunk. Like life in the barracks. So convivial! After hours, guys barely dressed, lolling around bare-chested, stripped down to their drawers and skivvies. With patience and a little luck you catch some very fine dick hanging out. Some nice asses too. Besides, young studs are only one degree removed from bulls in rut. It's so true. I should know! They're all balled up. Desperate to exorcise their nuts, as it were. Expel the demon seed. Oh, jeez, there's another juicy volley. Sharp and briny across my tongue. Stings the back of my throat. Highly active gonads on these pups, that's for sure. And thank you, boys, for your service! Yeah, gyms are great but I really love lavatories too. What's not to like? And the seedier the better! Dingy lighting, stench of urine, guys in a row, pants down, dicks out, pissing like crazy, making a splash, guys on the crapper, stall doors wide open. Not to mention the graffiti! Unbelievable! Nothing else like it. The nastiest come-ons and dirty drawings you can imagine. I mean, so sleazy you get instantly hard just looking at it. Leave it to the fucking faggots to come up with this kind of filth. Completely disgusting. The lowest of the low! Ah, direct hit. Smack in my eye and up my nostril. Now I'm actually breathing this stuff, choking on it. Coated inside and out. So sticky! How I dig these dicks! Making me wet for another hot fuck. More guys keep coming in. New faces, fresh loins! Yeah, go ahead, boys, blow your beans all over my body. Let me have it. Don't hold back. Come on, another mouthful. Yeah, just like that! Drag your sweaty nuts across my face, son. Give me the full smear and stink. Uh-huh. That's it. Nice. Sweet hairy hole, buddy. How `bout I give it a lick, huh? You like that? Want me to keep at it, man? Huh, that what you want, you fucking queer? Gonna show him how a real man handles himself. Want a tongue up there, man? A good suck-off? `Cuz I'll do it, man. I'll do it. Yes, I say, yes I will, yes.