Date: Tue, 17 May 2016 11:04:11 +0100 (BST) From: "rampage938@btinternet.com" Subject: THE COKE MAN CUMETH : 3 The rest of that week dragged by but I spent some serious time at the gym working out, getting pumped up ready for the weekend. To save going out and getting wasted on the Friday night, I took a drive up around the air force base just to kill some time. I pulled up in the main car park at the base. There weren't many people around but a group of joggers caught my attention as they passed. The short hair and gear they were wearing told me they were likely to be defaulters. Herding them along was my friendly 'snowdrop' (the RAF erks/grunts call the RAF Police that because of the white cap covers they wear when on duty. Silly really.) Although he had given me the impression of being potentially very hostile, I could fancy him - and decided I would test him out. I thought, "Maybe they will return this way." I repositioned my car so that if they did come back past the car park they would have to pass very close to me. I sat there listening to some Tchaikovsky (OK, I may be slut but I'm a bit of a cultured slut) for almost an hour before I saw them returning. Sure enough, Snowdrop was still herding them along. I got out of the car, stroked my cock up through my faded jeans and leant on the bonnet, just so he would get a good look at me. Sure enough, there came that knowing grin again. "You truck drivers get paid too much," he yelled at me. I could not help noticing the bouncing cocks and balls under the shorts worn by the joggers! "It's old and not paid for yet," I called after him. He turned and jogged back to me, his package much fuller than I'd noticed on his way out. "You owe me something, Coke man, for saving your arse the other day. That poncey officer was all for running you in and having you banned from the base." "Sure," I said, "when?" "Pick me up at 20.00 hours, five hundred yards down the road, on the bridge side of the Main Gate," he said as he took off after his group. "Shit," I thought, "this place is a jackpot!" I was there waiting, twenty minutes early, having almost forgotten about tomorrow night's plans. Right on time, Snowdrop arrived. He had changed out of his running gear and was wearing ultra tight jeans and a T-shirt with US ARMY emblazoned in big letters across his well-defined chest. He looked good and I started panicking. I had no plans to get mixed up in anything with him. There was no real certainty that he was even remotely interested in making whoopee with another guy. Maybe he just wanted a few beers and that would be that. "Name's Mike", he said as he approached me with his big hand outstretched. "I'm Randy," I offered in reply. "Yeah, I guessed that, but what's your name?" Shit, this guy really did have my number and seemed like he knew what he wanted and where he was going. "OK," I said, "call me Pete." "That's better," he chuckled, "let's get outta here and go find us some tail." I gunned the engine and we sped off into the darkness. "Where to?" I asked. "Taps is pretty good, half way along the road into town." He grinned at me. Fuck, he certainly did know his way around. Taps was probably the busiest gay bar our side of Bristol and was always jumping and heaving on a Friday night. Civilians like me looking for military cock could have a whale of a time there. We parked some way along the street. "I gotta be discreet, Coke man. I've too much to lose to park right outside that place." That I could understand. As we entered the bar, a number of guys called out acknowledging him. "Jeez," I thought, "he really does know his way around!" We grabbed a few beers, then grabbed a few more. "Coming out back?" he asked. "I don't know what you mean," I replied. Although I had a good idea as I'd hear stories about the backroom at Taps. "Come on, I'll show you," he said. We worked our way through the crowd and a couple of times I found myself being pushed into him from behind. Twice I felt my stiffening dick crushed against his denim clad buttocks. He did not seem to notice anything, though. We walked down a dark corridor and found ourselves in a room with just enough light for me to make out some shadowy figures milling around. As my eyes adjusted to the minimal light, I realised there were guys having sex all round us. "Fuck!" I exclaimed. "Yes, please" a voice replied from somewhere in the darkness. "Go for it," Snowdrop suggested as I watched him being drawn into a group of powerfully built guys. Next minute, I felt a number of young men surrounding me. Before I knew it, my T-shirt had been ripped from my chest and my jeans were down around my ankles. Tongues and hands probed my naked body. A hot tongue licked at my sweaty arse crack as someone pushed his face hard into my butt. Another swallowed my raging hard-on down his throat. I groaned with pleasure and heard a voice call, "How you doin', Randy" It was Snowdrop from the other side of the room. "Great!" I managed to gasp out, "how about you?" "Oh, doin' good, doin' good," came the reply. By now I was so horny I had forgotten about Snowdrop. There were at least half a dozen guys working me over: one had my dick down his throat, another was lapping my balls and taking them into his mouth, rolling them around in his humid maw. Two hands, whether from the same guy or not I couldn't tell, were pinching, twisting and tweaking my nipples, sending waves of sharp, delicious pain down to my groin, making my cock swell even more and drip increasing quantities of clear sticky fluid. Probing fingers worked their sensuous way into my bunghole - fuck, how I wanted one of those big dicks in there! A large, calloused hand came around my forehead, pulling my head back. "Take this, cock sucker!" growled a disembodied American voice. I gasped as a huge, hot cock slid past my teeth, over my tongue to the entrance to my throat. I stifled a gag and began sucking, creating a vacuum by drawing in my cheeks, pumping away like crazy. "Oooh, shit!" murmured the Yank, "you surely can suck dick, boy!" Another large cock started slapping against my stomach. I felt as if I was being beaten with a cop's rubber night-stick. "Said I'd arrange it for you," came a snarl in my ear. My heart turned somersaults as I recognised my latrine buddy's voice. With the big anonymous dick pumping down my throat, there was no way I could let him know I'd recognised him. Then I felt the first flood of white hot cum explode into my gullet. I thought it would never stop. I was forced to swallow, but there was too much to take. It leaked out of the corners of my mouth, running down over my chin, dripping on to my chest, where the nipple twisters used it to lubricate those sore needle points. The sticky fluid increased the wild sensations and burning pain, which raced along my nerves down to my crotch, my balls aching for release. I could no longer hold it in. When the explosion came, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I had never pumped so much cum for so long in all my life. My entire body jerked and torqued with the spasms wracking my cock and balls. My throat was now disencumbered and I uttered a deep, feral cry that must have originated in some primeval part of my brain. Slowly, I came back to myself, gasping and almost choking with the force of my ejaculation. As the men who had been working me over let me go, I almost collapsed but was caught around my waist by a pair of strong arms. "Had enough?" It was the latrine sergeant's voice, again. I was powerless to speak and could only nod my head. "Pity. I'm not finished with you yet. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll cum again and again before this night is over!" To be continued.........