Date: Tue, 17 May 2016 09:49:42 +0100 (BST) From: "rampage938@btinternet.com" Subject: THE COKE MAN CUMETH : 2 It was a week since I had dropped my load of sodas at the NAAFI Store - and another kind of load at the disused latrines nearby. I was hanging about to see if my big drill sergeant would be waiting for me again. Holding back as long as I could, it was still ten minutes earlier than usual when I pulled up to the loading bay near the office. I made a point of building up the pressure in my brake lines, so when I finally arrived there would be plenty of brake noise when I stopped, just to let anyone within earshot know I was there. As I gunned the diesel off, I noticed a number of guys around the place looking in my direction. "Shit," I thought, "maybe I've been too obvious in announcing my arrival." I did not want to scare off that man-to-man missile. Mind you, I had been planning for today all week, wearing my tightest torn and faded jeans, arranging my cock across my right leg. Possibly I was being too obvious. As I jumped down from the cab, I knew I looked good. I had been pumping my body hard at the gym all week. Knowing how good this guy was I had held off having sex with anyone - including myself - for the last 72 hours. Fuck, I was good and hard already and the bulge across my thigh left no one in any doubt as to what I was offering - or what I wanted. Walking across to report to the delivery bay, I noticed pre-cum seeping through my jeans and leaving a tell-tale smudge of dampness, so I pulled my shirt out to cover my cock bulge, but not before the Quartermaster's clerk had clocked my state. He gave me a cheeky grin and allowed me a glimpse of his rapidly tenting crotch as he checked off the manifest. I made some small talk with him just to fill a bit of time and hint I might just be interested in investigating that mysterious lump in his pants a bit further, then made to head off. Quietly this time, I edged my truck out of sight of the dock and made my way to the disused latrines, just as I had the week before. Sure enough, the padlock was gone and the door was unlocked. As I went in, I noticed the same cubicle was occupied, but this time I simply had to push the door open. There was my man in all his glory - almost stark naked, displaying the most magnificent body I have ever seen. "Did you lock the door after you," he growled, "or were you brought up in a tent?" I backtracked and slid the recently installed newer, heavier bolt across the door. This guy was well prepared and I was going to make sure he enjoyed what he got. With everything now secure, he came out from the cubicle and leant against the wall next to me. He was incredible. About six foot two, weighing about 200 pounds of solid muscle, well tanned except for a brief panty line, with a rug of clipped chest hair. All he was wearing were his fatigue pants pushed down around his ankles and his spit-and-polish boots. I thought, "Fuck, what a god!" as I undid my belt, shucked my jeans to the floor and dropped to my knees in front of him. I took his half-hard cock into my mouth, sucking him good and deep, pushing my face right down into the mat of sweaty pubic hair covering his crotch. He was fully hard within seconds as I gulped his eight-inch cock into my throat. "Fuck! What a cock and what a guy," I thought as I hungrily worked his massive shaft. As I sucked and manipulated him, saliva and pre-cum dribbled out the side of my mouth into his crotch and trickled down the inside of his thighs. Reluctantly, I pulled my mouth from his cock and licked up the spillage as it oozed through his crotch hair and down his leg. His regal balls were bouncing on my cheek and I turned to lick them good and clean. He pushed my head firmly into his crotch, aiming me down and beneath his balls, to lick his perineum. I could taste and smell the masculinity of his arse - fuck, was that good! - and continued eating everything I could get my mouth to. He turned to face the wall, backing his edible arse into my face. I was getting off on him so much I unexpectedly blew my wad all over his fatigues, boots and the wall in front of him. "You'd better clean that up, you filthy cock-sucker," he grated. I eagerly began eating my own jism off his pants, licking it off the wall and those highly polished boots. The taste of leather and boot polish drove me crazy and I was almost delirious with the anticipation of what else might be in store for me. As I lay on the floor licking my sticky mess from his footwear, I glanced upwards at the hulk towering over me. "Fuck me! Fuck me!" was all I could think. This guy was every cock sucking, arse shagging wanker's wildest dreams come true and I knew there had to be more where that came from. I finished off his boots and began licking my way up those powerful legs; the calves were rock hard and hairy. I licked my way up to his knees and in amongst those magnificent thighs. By the time I had worked my way back to his heavy hanging balls, he was stroking his solid cock just above my face. I looked up just in time to see streams of thick juicy spunk explode out of his cock slit on to my face and my left eye. Fuck, that was brilliant! Bucket loads of sperm kept gushing all over me as I lurched towards his rigid spurting cock, taking it fully into my mouth and swallowing all I could. Even so, there was too much and it choked me, dribbling out of my mouth and through my nostrils. Then, without warning, came a blast from the Klaxon on my truck. "Jesus H Christ!" I yelled, "what the fuck...!" "Shit," he exclaimed, "someone must be wondering where you are. Quick, clean up and get out of here!" I ripped off my shirt and wiped his sperm from my face, remembering that I had left my cab window down. "When you get there, tell 'em you just changed a tyre and were looking for a place to clean up. I'll look after here." Before I headed out the door, I gave him a note I had prepared with my contact details. "Let me know when you're next gonna be out here," he said. "Sure," I replied, "but what do we do to lessen the chances of getting caught?" He looked at me with an unfathomable expression on his face. "I'll think of something," he replied as I headed for my truck, "now get the fuck outta here - fast!" As I approached my truck parked behind the Stores office I could see the burly form of an RAF policeman and a junior officer waiting for me, the corporal leaning into the cab blasting away on the Klaxon. "Where the fuck have you been? You know these are restricted quarters to you civvies," he bellowed. I shivered a little: I do so like being shouted at by butch uniformed men in authority! "Sorry, corporal. When I came out of the loading bay, I noticed I had the beginnings of a flat so I changed it and went looking for somewhere to clean up," I babbled. "You'd never get anywhere in the military," he barked, "look at you, shit all over you, torn jeans and carrying your shirt instead of wearing it! Go on, fuck off outta here!" "SIR! YES, SIR!" I bellowed back at him, accompanied by a smart-arse smirk on my face. The junior officer with him gave me a grin as he checked me out, but wiped it off his face as the corporal turned towards him, saluted and marched off. The officer smiled at me again in a knowing kind of way as he jumped into the passenger seat of the corporal's jeep as it roared away. "You been causing trouble with our RAF policemen?" I turned to see it was my sergeant back in his full working fatigues. "Yeah," I answered, "looks like it's the Guardroom cells for me next time." "I guess you wouldn't mind that too much. OK, I can arrange it if you're serious," he half jokingly said, looking at me somewhat quizzically. "I'll call for you next Saturday." "You're on!" I said eagerly as I climbed into the cab of my truck, gunned the engine and gave him a farewell blast on the Klaxon. He grinned at me and strode off. To be continued.........