Date: Tue, 30 Oct 2012 08:21:29 -0700 (PDT) From: Vincent Salerno Subject: Army Days-In Switzerland; nifty/gay/military In Switzerland Soon after completing advanced training, I shipped out for overseas duty. I pulled a great assignment in Geneva, Switzerland. During my tour of duty, I managed to see most of western Europe, made some good friends, and learned a thing or two. I was scared shitless that my gay feelings would be discovered in the Army, and was very careful to play it straight. This was made more difficult when I shared an apartment with some other American guys, one of whom was Jerry. An Irish-American draftee from New England, Jerry was one of the most handsome men I have ever known. Two of us had to share a single bed while the landlord had a new bed on order. Jerry and I were the last to move in, so we shared the same very small bed for a ball aching month or longer. We slept head to toe and although I had some trouble falling asleep, I eventually learned to jerk off in the bathroom before retiring, to reduce the effect of the gorgeous body that would soon be resting against mine. I don't know if it made it more frustrating or more satisfying that I was able to cop a feel or two with my leg that would just happen to often land on Jerry's hard dick. Jerry would often get hard during the night or in the morning, and would leave my leg pressing against his cock for several delightful minutes, before he would sigh, and move away. He mentioned it one morning, saying, " Ya know, Tony, you have a habit of your leg falling on top of me, and your body sometimes presses against me when you're sleeping." "No, kiddin'?; gee Jer, sorry." "No problem, buddy. I'm sure your wife is gonna love that habit." Years later, my shrink, upon hearing this story, said that Jerry was likely very aware of what was going on here, and was waiting for a blowjob. I hope that he was wrong; I have enough missed opportunities to regret. I did have some straight sex with local girls, including some who worked at it professionally. One night, a few of the guys in my division invited me to visit a notorious traffic circle downtown. The specialty of the area was oral sex. Prostitutes paraded around, guys cruised by in cars, slowed, stopped, negotiated. Working girls got into the cars, and blowjobs were exchanged for money. The BJ I got was just okay. One of the older career men who was with us, was not satisfied by the sucking and asked for a fuck. The working girls were not happy with requests such as this, because they preferred the quick turnover of perfunctory blowjobs. But Gordon was persuasive and managed to get what he wanted. Convincing the girl was only part of the problem. The logistics of the act was also not easy to accomplish in the tiny foreign car. But lust triumphed as the girl sat on Gordon's lap and humped him to release. Meanwhile, Ron, having had his blowjob was impatient to leave because he needed to take a dump. He finally was convinced to drop his pants in the bushes off the roadway. He returned grumbling about how unsatisfactory leaves are as toilet paper. One of the guys I lived with was a handsome, blond cocksman from California. The local girls fell for him in a big way, as I guess they also did back home if even a small number of his stories were true. His name was Mac and he brought in a parade of women of various nationalities into the apartment. Mac was kind of a bastard. Seemed to have little feeling for the girls he dated. He treated them all like shit, but they kept coming back for more. I particularly felt badly for a pretty and innocent young "country girl" who had moved to the big city to find a good job and romance, and instead found Mac, and part-time work as a shopgirl. Michelle was a virgin when she met Mac, a fact she made a big deal of, mentioning it in her poor English at every opportunity in the local bars frequented by American servicemen and local girls. Within a couple of weeks, Mac had taken her cherry, and bragged about it to all his acquaintances. Mac told about the encounter in some detail at the local bars. Mickey's English was very poor, and Mac's French was non-existent. As Mac attempted to deflower Mickey, and feeling resistance, pushed harder, Mickey cried, "Doucement, doucement," meaning literally "sweetly, sweetly" but a better translation would be "gently, gently." Mac, worried that she was backing out, replied, "no it's not, no it's not," thinking that she was saying, "too small, too small." Mac only found out what "doucement" meant later in the evening when he related the exchange to Ray. Michelle, called Mickey, thought that when she agreed to go to bed with Mac it meant they were engaged. She moved in with us for a while, living in Mac's room, and putting her family's pictures all over the apartment. It was kind of pitiful to see the picture of the sweet little blond girl in her First Communion dress and veil, proudly displayed in the center of the mantle. The other guys knew Mac, and knew that he certainly had no plans to marry Michelle. She wised up eventually and moved out. I'm sorry to say that the last time I saw her, in a local bar patronized primarily by American soldiers and European girls, Mickey had aged many years, although less than two years had passed. Her manner had become tough and desperate. Not one of my nicer remembrances, I'm afraid. I managed to successfully repress my homosexual feelings throughout my tour in Switzerland. Not that I didn't feel anything. I just didn't act on them. But every once in a while I would see something that would startle me. I assumed that everybody around me was straight as an arrow. Wasn't I surprised to see a couple of huge glory holes in the toilet at the local PX (which is like a special shopping mall for US servicemen). The most exciting invitations were scrawled all over the stall walls. I tried not to think of my army buddies in a sexual way. Since we lived off base, I was not "subjected" to communal army showers any longer. I rarely, if ever, saw my friends totally nude. Although I surely could have one night when Mac and Ray brought home a couple of girls for a party in the apartment. It turned into a small orgy. I was sleeping when they arrived home since I had to get up for an early shift. So I slept through the most exciting event to happen at our place in memory. Jerry also missed it since he was working the midnight to eight shift. But we all heard about the party the next day. It seems that the evening advanced from private lovemaking, to the guys running around nude from room to room, whooping it up. "Damn," complained Mac to Ray the following day. "I nearly shit when I saw the size of your dick. I'm never having an orgy with you again." We all laughed, as Ray smiled proudly. "He didn't mind when your cock flopped out of your shorts," joked Jim, "but when you untied it from around your leg and it slapped your kneecap, that was too much." Ray described how his date lifted his cock up and spoke to it as though it were a hand puppet. I loved the image of that description. Mac got a case of crabs from the notable evening. And another great event, which I slept through, passed into history. Please remember to support the Nifty Archive! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html