Date: Sun, 10 Apr 2022 08:20:14 -0400 From: Michael Wisser Subject: Barracks Bitch Chapter 1 (Military, gay) It had been a hard week. Our platoon was out in the field on training maneuvers. We arrived back at the barracks tired, muddy, and chilled to the bone. We figured out two days in that Sarge, being the asshole he is, didn't tell us we'd be camping out and in the open the entire week so he could teach us a `readiness' lesson. It was November for fuck's sake. We had no gear, no cover, no vest, just boots, fatigues and weapons. Two of those things were what Sarge called `the only things a soldier needs'. Boots and weapons. A soldier fights naked if he has to. Readiness was the army code word for surprise. And in the army, there are never any good surprises. The cold soaking rain certainly wasn't, and I just knew Sarge had scouted the weather ahead of time. Ironically, the mud we crawled through, slogged through, choked on and wore actually provided a slight extra insulation. Even if we could have showered we probably wouldn't have, aside from the rain which did little to make us feel clean. You reach a point where the pain and dirt just feels normal. Still, it was rough. But if you didn't like roughing it in the Army, you should have joined the Air Force. Those words of wisdom from Sarge were our mantra. He seemed to get intense satisfaction from driving us past our limits. Asshole. But he was OUR asshole and we considered him one of our brothers. Our older, dickwad asshole brother, but still a brother. We all trudged into the barracks looking forward to shucking our muddy battle dress, getting a hot shower, and having a weekend of partying and rest. Addison, whose nickname was Sleeper, was already peeling off his uniform before he even took two steps inside the door. I had to chuckle, our training was that ingrained. In the barracks, dress code was relaxed. You could walk around naked if you wanted, which many of the guys did during down time. You didn't do it during duty hours, but only because of Sarge's `readiness' drills. Sucks to be you if you were the last one to fall in. Sucks to be you if you fall in with one hair out of place. But one step outside the barracks door was the Army's world, and Sarge looked for any excuse, any infraction to heap a shitload of abuse and punishment on the slacker. And sometimes we ALL paid a price. But cross that threshold and Sleeper rarely waited to get butt ass naked. So Sleeper was naked before the last guy got through the door. Of course. Sleeper wasn't shy. He flaunted his athletic, beefy magnificence. We gave him the nickname because he had been a wrestler in high school, all state in the 190 lb weight class. He was used to locker rooms, group showers, hanging out naked with the guys. At 6'1" he was obviously a beast in high school, and a year in the Army had packed on 30 more pounds of muscle. 6'1", 220 just sat well on him, with his ridiculous casual masculine swagger. When we first thought up the name, it was because Holler, whose real name was Foger, thought Sleeper was talking about t.v. wrestling and asked him if he knew how to do the Sleeper hold. Hell, most of us thought it was a good question, but Sleeper scowled and educated us about freestyle competition wrestling and what you could and couldn't do. Some of the stuff they did when the ref couldn't see was downright brutal. Fingers in the asshole, gripping nuts, grinding your junk into their face, stuff like that. He said the refs tended to ignore that stuff as long as it was during the execution of a move. But deliberately cutting off your opponent's air and blood supply was unsportsmanlike and unnecessary roughness, two fouls that could get you a point penalty at least, and disqualified at worst. But the name Sleeper stuck, and he gradually accepted that you don't get to choose your nickname, and his was mild compared to some of the others. Even Holler was a rather tame nickname, we just couldn't come up with anything really clever for that backwoods redneck. Every word he spoke had a slurred country drawl so thick it needed a translation. It was so bad that Puta, our New York Puerto Rican brother asked `Ay Puta, were ya born in a holler down in kintuckee?' Fuck, he tried to mimic Holler's southern accent, but it was nowhere near and the rest of us about cried we laughed so hard. Holler glared at Puta, but we all knew nothing was going to happen. Holler was about 140 lbs soaking wet, a scrawny, gangly little shit. Puta would break him like a twig. Puta called everyone Puta unless he was being serious. That's how he got his nickname. We told him we'd stop calling him that when he stopped calling everyone that. He just said `Ay, fuck you puta.' Just a bunch of guys going around calling each other `whore' in Spanish. Gotta love the Army. Enough about that, you'll learn the other brother's names later. Where was I? Oh yeah, Sleeper's big round marble white ass rumbling towards the showers, two globes of perfect muscle stacked on tree trunk thighs that flared out beyond his narrow hips. It looked like snow on hills, he was so white. Still, he wasn't the biggest brother, nor the most built. That honor belonged to Zeus. Holy shit, Zeus was just blessed by the Gods. No one bothered Zeus. Not that Zeus was mean, or angry, or frightening. Zeus was a calm, silent giant. Even when he looked at us individually, it never seemed to be a judgement. He was difficult to figure out. Sometimes, rarely, he smiled at a joke someone made. If you got that smile from him, that rare emotional response, you felt like you won some big prize. He just had....something. Something the rest of us wished we could learn. But we settled with just basking in its effects when Zeus deigned to interact with us poor mortals. "Which one of you grunts messed up my beautiful barracks with your fucking filth!?!" came the roar from behind us. At this point we were all, except Zeus, at least half undressed. Zeus hadn't made a single move to get undressed. "Fall in!" Fuck! Sarge knew there was no way we could NOT muck up the place. Hell, half of us, like Sleeper, undressed just a couple steps inside, so we WOULDN'T create a mess we'd just have to clean up. 32 filthy guys in limited square feet peeling off shoes, socks, uniforms, underwear, no one cared what body part pressed up against who. All asses and armpits, as Sarge says. We scrambled immediately into formation. Footlong (we WANTED to call him horsedick but better sense prevailed) wasn't even half out of his pants and he had to waddle into line and just leave them around his knees, his wet boxer briefs suctioned to his namesake down his right leg. His absurd double doorknob sized balls hung down the other leg, almost hanging as low as his cock. He said he had to divide them up like that or it was just too much meat in one place. Sarge's ice blue eyes gazed at the floor, sweeping in lazy arcs, an angry frown deepening with every smear of mud he saw. He looked up at the wall beside the door where a muddy handprint marred the whitewash. Quietly...dangerously... he said "who is barrack's bitch this week?" We all went white when we heard him say barrack's bitch. That was supposed to be a secret. How'd he find out? Barrack's bitch was our little hazing game on Saturday nights, the only night of the week when we were on post that we could let loose. One brother, chosen at random from a hat, had to take orders from anyone who gave it, do anything they were told. Barrack's Bitch bought the beer, or liquor for those who wanted that. Barrack's bitch fetched refills, cleaned up spills, did party tricks for our amusement, was subservient at all times, and basically let the rest of us feel just a little power and control, for just a brief moment, in our powerless grunt lives. I forget who originally came up with the idea, maybe it was Bootlicker, he always had great ideas. He was easily the smartest of all of us. How he ended up eating mud with the rest of us in a rainy miserable November, I'll never know. He could have gone to college. "Someone better speak up. I can take away your Saturday anytime I want. A sergeant doesn't repeat himself." "Wanker is Barrack's bitch, Sarge. " Wanker said. Oh fuck, we owed him big. We hadn't had a chance to do the drawing yet, so technically we didn't have a bitch this week. Wanker fucking volunteered. And you NEVER volunteer in the Army. I felt bad that Wanker was probably going to spend the next three hours of his liberty cleaning up our mess. "Excellent. Outstanding. You were on my list anyway." Sarge said with every inflection of sarcasm he could milk from his cold, dead heart. "Private Sendahl, you're with me. The rest of you animals better remove any sign of your unfortunate presence from my barracks before I get back. She better shine and glow like a virgin after her first fuck." He stared at us for a three count. "MOVE YOUR SORRY FUCKING ASSES, GRUNTS! IT WAS NOT A REQUEST." We damn near injured ourselves as we darted around picking up clothing, it didn't matter whose. Sleeper grabbed someone's underwear, the cleanest thing he could find, and started wiping up mud, the globes of his chiseled ass vibrating while his dick and balls swung between his legs like a fucking bell ringing that the pope had died. That gave everyone the idea, and, well... that was how 30 soldiers ended up naked and scrubbing mud with their own underwear on their hand and knees while Sarge watched for a minute. Satisfied that we were doing the job, he turned and left, with Wanker following his beefy back, Sarge's pristine uniform dry, spotless and pressed like he hadn't spent a week babysitting idiots sitting in mud. What the fuck? He had MAYBE 45 seconds between when we left the transport and when he came through the barrack's door. How could he be clean, dry and spotless? Anyway, not even Sarge said anything to Zeus, who still stood absolutely silent at parade rest, staring at the rest of us working. He'd never undressed. His fatigues were muddy, but his boots were clean. I guess he didn't feel like he made a mess, so he wasn't going to clean it up, and no one was going to say anything about it. Zeus was.... well, confusing would be a good word. So we got everything cleaned up, our faces up someone else's ass until it was spotless. Then we hit the showers. Everyone except Zeus. We took our time, looking forward to the party, letting the hot water soak away our tiredness. "Should we wait for Wanker? Or should we choose another bitch?" Dimples asked? No, he didn't have dimples when he smiled. Not on those cheeks anyway. "Fuck dat." Puta replied. "Dat puta volunteered. I'm no gonna be putting my name in a hat dis week. Das all I care about. He be back soon." We all silently agreed. Soon we were all cleaned up and feeling fresh. It took a while to get clean. We all dried off and went to our bunks to throw on some clothes, even if it was just a pair of socks or underwear. Footlong of course wore his usual boxer briefs. He didn't like anyone looking at his massive cock, which was difficult NOT to look at when it swung free. Zeus got up and went to the showers. He never showered with the brothers. He just waited patiently, quietly doing his quiet thing. We did notice though, that while we were using up all the hot water, he'd cleaned the mud from all our boots, and put them at the end of the bunks. Our fatigues were piled neatly, still muddy, on an empty rack near the corner. Zeus was a good guy, an excellent soldier. He just didn't like to join the group. I did wonder why we'd never chosen his name for Barrack's bitch, though. But, as with everything else, I just figured he was blessed by the Gods. About that time Wanker returned. He seemed a little jumpy, and stripped down to go shower himself. "You gotta wait, Wanker." I said. "What for, Assmunch? I don't start bitchwork yet." Yeah, that's me. Assmunch. It USED to be Scarlett on account of how red I turned when angry, exerting myself, embarrassed... hell, I turned red if I breathed. But one of my turns at Barrack's bitch went a bit wild. I violated the subservience rule, and was ordered to kiss the brother's ass that I'd offended. "Kiss it." Sleeper said, presenting his amazing ass to my face. Troll and Cellblock held me on my knees to either side. Cellblock pushed my face closer. I could feel the hot, damp atmosphere of Sleeper's sweaty, hairless crack hitting me like a sauna. "Oh look, Scarlett is all red." Troll laughed. "Your brother gave you an order. Kiss. His. Ass." I darted in and gave his left asscheek a quick peck. "Oh, that makes the other cheek lonely. Scarlett, be a pal and kiss the other one" Sleeper said with a dirty grin. "But I'm not your sister. Kiss it like you mean it. " Truth was, it wasn't a big deal. It was just his butt, and it was a nice one. But acting like I hated it was part of the game. So I pressed my lips to his right asscheek and made out with it. Damn, it was solid, and smooth, and tasted of sweat and that cheap soap we used. I pulled away after ten seconds. "I think he was into it, bro" Cellblock commented. "His tongue tasted all of that lily white booty." "Really? Did you like the taste of my ass, bitch?" Sleeper looked over his shoulder with eyebrows raised. "Don't be ashamed to admit it. I know it's a piece of grade a prime beef. It should taste delicious." He flexed his ass then wiggled it in my face. "But that wasn't the best part. You gotta get deep in the meat near the bone for the most flavor. " He bent over, his cheeks spread as he looked at me from between his knees. I'd never been this close to another man's asshole, and the sight kinda stunned me for a second. I don't know if all assholes looked like his, but it seemed like it was all just smooth white skin with a tiny little rift. No hair, no pucker, no visible difference from the asscheek I just frenched. I looked at him, his eyes daring me, that confident grin. He was a rotten handsome prick. But, if I was going to lick anyone's asshole, my best friend's was probably the only one. Or Kevin's. Nope. Not gonna think about Kevin. "Fuck it." I said. The guys were all gathered around, hooting, catcalling, laughing. They were going to witness this bullshit with horrified attention like a car wreck you couldn't look away from. And I was determined to make it as unpleasant for them as I could. Which meant going full on gay with it. "Lemme have my arms." I said to Cellblock and Troll. They dutifully released me and stood fascinated to see if I'd go through with it. I placed my hands on his ass, gripping his glutes, pushing his cheeks together and apart. "You ready? After this, you're gonna understand why the ladies love me. When I go down, I give it everything I got. You're going to beg me to do this to you again." "You ain't never had no ladies. Don't try to lie. You probably gonna leave bite marks on his shitter." Cellblock said. With that, I dove in. I kept his asscheeks apart so the guys could watch my big tongue slurp right up his crack, starting at his taint and pushing upwards across his insanely perfect hole to the end of his crack. "Oh shit! He really went in!" Troll said. The other brothers varied in their reactions, from disgust to cheering. I zeroed in on the target, my mouth open, and smothered his almost hidden sphincter with my tongue. Sleeper let out an involuntary "ohhhhhh fuck" and I moved my hands to his thighs and pulled him into me as I began assaulting that hole with my tongue, lips, nose, chin, just grinding away with heavy slurping noises, tons of saliva and noises like I was eating the best meal of my life. Sleeper was trying not to move, but I could feel slight pushes and tiny flexes of his thighs I was gripping. I no longer had any awareness of what the guys were doing, simply lost in eating Sleeper's asshole like a pussy. "Shit dude. You gotta stop." He said after a minute or so. I didn't know how long I was in there. "You sure, sir?" I mumbled from between his cheeks. "Dude, stop. Okay... you're done." I pulled away, my face wet. I'm sure I was red as a beet, but it was worth it. I looked down at his face, still between his legs, his eyes were closed and he was breathing a little heavy. I noticed his dick was almost hard, his foreskin pulled almost all the way back, and he was leaking pre-cum. He reached up between his legs and swiped across his asshole, probably to give himself a moment to recover and get rid of the dick slime dripping off his cock so the guys wouldn't see. Looks like Sleeper enjoyed it more than a little, I thought. I had to admit, I enjoyed it too. Not too much different than eating pussy. "Now I have assmunching juice all over me!" He growled. "You asked for it, and I did warn you." I replied, wiping my face with my hand. "How'd it taste, Assmunch? Looks like he gave you a full helping. You were buried up his crack for a couple minutes. We couldn't even see your nose." Bootlicker jibed. "Tasted like freedom, America, and grunt beef!" I laughed back. Sleeper was still bent over, his hands on his knees. His ass still near my face, cheeks spread, his shiny asshole clenching and releasing. "Whew, I need a beer. Bitch, get me a beer. It's gonna take me a minute to dry out. Felt like you were trying to taste what I had for breakfast. Holy good God in heaven. " "Be right back. ". So... Assmunch stuck. You gotta roll with the punches. Sleeper and I would later have a heart to heart about my skills, but that's a story for later. We were best buds, of course we were going to talk about it. And more it turns out. Where was I? Oh yeah, Wanker stripped down headed to the showers. "What for Assmunch?" "Zeus is in there. You gotta wait." I told him. Wanker sighed, knowing he had to let Zeus take his shower alone. He went to his bunk, looking like he hurt his leg or something. He wasn't walking right. The rest of the guys were hyping up for our party, ready to get things moving. "You okay Wanker? What's up with you? " I asked. "If you need to go see medical, we can choose another bitch. But you did get off easy not having to clean up. What did Sarge want, anyway?" "It's no big deal. Just a sore hip." He said morosely, which was out of character for him. He was usually one of the funny ones, always cracking jokes. Even when we caught him in the toilet whacking off he just laughed and busted his nut right in front of us. He actually hit Sackless right on the chin with one of his spurts. Wanker's got a fucking firehose when he shoots. He's the distance champion for nut AND piss out of all of us. "Sarge just needed to discipline me for something. I kinda fucked up, but he's going to give me a pass this time." "Fuck man, that sounds serious. What'd you do?" I asked. "It was supposed to be a joke, just a prank on the Charlies. You know those guys are dickwads, not like us. Well, THEIR Sarge raised hell with our Sarge." "WHAT DID YOU DO?" I stressed again. "Put liquid contact adhesive in their shampoo dispenser." "Sounds like a Bootlicker idea" I mused, laughing. "Oh that's evil. But wouldn't they have to use it right away? Or it'd just turn to rubber, right?" "No, that's the beauty of it." Wanker said, without any enthusiasm at all. "If it doesn't contact air, it stays liquid. Bootlicker knows his shit. That's why the Charlies look like green recruits now. They had to shave their heads just like in boot camp. Bald as babies. They finally grew their hair back this year, and they had to shave it all again." "Fucking classic. Doesn't sound like anything that the Sarges would get involved in though." Wanker sighed. "The shampoo dispensers were trashed. Had to be replaced. Sarge said willful destruction of Army property is taken very seriously. I woulda been fucked." He paused, closed his eyes. In a weak voice almost too quiet to hear he continued "I WAS fucked." I was puzzled why he wasn't happier. "But you said Sarge gave you a pass." Wanker looked me dead in the eye and repeated "no, I was fucked." There was a change in his emphasis that seemed odd. "God don't be dumb, Assmunch. That's how I got the pass. Charlie's Sarge plowed his huge Hungarian dick into my ass. I was fucked by Sergeant Charlie. And he didn't pull out, use a condom or go easy. He ripped me apart and busted in my asshole, which is still dripping his nut, while I was bent over Sarge's desk like a cheap whore. I squatted as soon as I was outside, but fuck there's like a gallon of it in me, it just keeps coming out." Wanker was damn near crying, but he was keeping it together . Soldiers don't cry. "Don't tell the guys. I shouldn't even have told you. Okay?" "You don't have to worry, Cade." I said. Just using his first name sounded weird to me, but this was no time for juvenile nicknames. "I'm glad you told me. Are you okay? Do you need me to do anything?" "I'll be fine. It's not the end of the world. I took my punishment. I agreed to it.' He said with a morose chuckle. "And honestly, it would have been worse getting demoted and having to leave you guys, maybe leave the Army. That would have hurt way more I think." I nodded, understanding. Pain was a known quantity, we lived and breathed pain. We carried on. It was all bearable when you had your brothers beside you. "But, I need a favor. Later, not now." He said. "Name it, brother, it's yours." I replied. "After the party, I need you to look at my ass. It felt like he broke something inside me. I can't ask anyone else, don't want to go to the infirmary and answer a lot of questions. I figure you'd probably know what to look for after being up Sleeper's hole that time. You can say no." I pulled him into a deep hug. "I'd be honored to. After the party." I held him for a few more seconds, and felt the tension drain from his body. Looking like he felt better, we saw Zeus coming back, fully clothed in some pajamas his mom probably sent him. Little German Shepard puppies frolicking all over them, but no one said a word. He didn't even look stupid wearing pajamas a six year old would wear. Fuck, I wish I had half of whatever God blood flowed through his steel veins. Where she found puppy dog pajamas to fit a 6'5" hulk that barely fit into his BDU's was a mystery only she knew. Zeus walked to his bunk like he was dressed in biker's leathers, or fucking medieval armor. "Go clean up, I'll stall the brothers." I told Wanker. "I'll set up for you so they don't get cranky." We both knew if they got cranky Wanker would be given way more shit than usual. He walked away. I turned to Zeus. "Thanks for doing our boots Zeus. That was really nice of you." He turned to me, almost to see if I was being sarcastic. I wasn't. Then he smiled and I felt the world shift. For a moment I felt like the star of his world. I know I was lighting up red, probably the reddest I've ever been, but fuck if I cared. I couldn't move, couldn't look away from his piercing hazel eyes. ""It's okay Andrew. I didn't help clean." His voice was a physical sensation, a vibration that caressed my entire body. It was deep, gentle but with a force like a wave that moves you without harm or pressure. He wasn't even trying to be charming or dominant or alpha, all of those things were just exuded naturally from every pore on his body. I would have cut my own throat at that moment, with a smile, if he but asked. Did he know? Did he realize how he affected all of us? Did he see my absolute capitulation and hero worship written on my face? I couldn't hide it if I tried, my brain made no sense when he looked at me. During hushed conversations with the brothers, we realized he affected every single one of us the same way. Hell, Puta had never once called Zeus `Puta', that was how altering Zeus was. Sarge never screamed at him, ever. "I was going to shine them, but you guys weren't in the shower long enough." He almost sounded like he was apologizing to me. What the fuck, no that wasn't going to happen. He wasn't anyone that should apologize. "It was nice enough that you got the mud off. And we used all the hot water, which was an asshole thing to do. We didn't deserve for you to do anything nice for us." I swear this was the most Zeus had said to any one of us. What the fuck was going on tonight? Wanker gets ass raped, and agreed to it no less, got flooded with jizz, is still going to be Barrack's bitch, and now Zeus is having a fucking conversation with me, a blessed fucking pleasant conversation with a God like any of that is normal. I'm having a stroke. That's the only explanation. I'm out of my mind near death and it's all a hallucination. Zeus looked down at his feet hanging off the end of his bunk. I got a sudden feeling that he was sad. "It's okay. The water was still warm. It felt good after being in the cold rain. You guys are always so nice to me. I'm not good at the stuff you do for fun." He said softly, trying to be quiet. I guess he didn't want the brothers to overhear us. "Is that why you always stay in your bunk?" "Yeah." That hit me hard. We're we excluding one of our brothers because we thought he was too good for our foolish games? When he sat apart watching us have fun and never inviting him? Did he not think he was a God above all of us? "Zeus. Look at me, please." I said. He looked over. His deep hazel eyes had a sad hope. It crushed me completely. "Do you know why we call you Zeus?" I asked. "Because I'm big?" He guessed. I almost laughed. But I didn't want to ruin this moment. "No Zeus, we call you that because your brothers and I think that you are a God walking among us. Yeah, being tall, with those insane muscles helps. But there's so much more about you we like. We love that everything you do is perfect. You ace every task. You never fuck up, or say something dumb, or do ANYTHING wrong. When you walk, it's like watching a wild animal stalk its prey. When you speak, your voice rumbles like thunder. When you look at us, like you're looking at me now, our souls tremble. We don't know why, but you have something incredible in you that just comes out and hits us like lightning. We've all just accepted that you're the best of all of us. That's just how it is. We've talked about it. If we were back in time, you'd be our king. I know it sounds stupid, but we literally worship the ground you walk on. " "You wouldn't feel that way if you knew." He said. A cold knot formed in my stomach. He had some dark secret he couldn't tell us? Fuck all. My mind was spinning. How the fuck do I handle this? The other part of my brain kicked in. The side that was smart, that argued against doing stupid shit. It said two words: so what? So what if he has a dark secret? He's your brother, and you don't abandon a brother. "Zeus, my brother, nothing you can tell me would change a thing. You could have fucked your cousin and I wouldn't care." That got a grin from him. "I don't care if you sucked dick for money and took it up the ass from Abdul the clerk at the corner stop and shop. Wouldn't change a thing. " I thought I saw him give a barely perceptible jerk at that. Nah, couldn't be. Could it? I mean, I wanted to know, but NOT know. "Of course, the only thing that might change would be I'd need a special favor now and then, if you know what I mean." I joked. I grinned back at him, gauging his reaction. He seemed to deflate, like he all the sudden relaxed from an incredible heavy load he'd been carrying. "You mean it, Andrew?" "I mean it. And, starting now, you gotta start using our nicknames. That's what brothers do. I'm Assmunch. Don't much like it, but I earned it. " I told him. "Why do they call you Assmunch?" He asked sincerely. Man, his voice. I figured if my guess was right, he'd like the story, so I told him about tongue raping Sleeper's ass. He sat there staring at me with eyes that just got wider and wider. "No way!" He exclaimed, the most intense emotion I'd ever seen come out of him. "Oh yes. Two minutes they said I ate his ass. You know the best part?" He was hooked, leaning forward. "What?" "Sleeper got a boner and was leaking dickjuice everywhere. He had to hide it from the other guys, but I saw it. You can't tell anyone though. We gotta keep the secret that Sleeper just loves to get his ass eaten." "Wow! Really? Sleeper?" "Yeah, he's really got the best ass. I've been taking care of him about once a week since then. We have a deal. I eat his ass until he cums, sometimes without even touching his dick. And then he gives me a handjob and I get to shoot my load." "Do you like it?" He asked, way more interested than I'd ever seen him be. He wasn't calm and aloof anymore. "You know, eating his ass?" "Yeah, not too different than eating pussy. Taste is different, and it's just my spit and no pussy juice, but to be honest what I like most is how it gets Sleeper all worked up. I'd do anything for him. He's my best friend. " Zeus nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. I like Sleeper too. He's my favorite." I looked at Zeus, and rolled the dice. I was pretty sure I was right. But this would clinch it. "You know, he'd probably love it if you wanted to give it a try. The man really can't get enough tongue in his ass." I left that hanging there, then continued. "Come on, bring your puppy dog pajamas and help me set up for tonight. You don't have to stay, and I won't say anything about what we talked about, okay?" Zeus got up from his rack. Looking down, he pulled out the bottom of his shirt. "They're German Shepards" he said, smiling like a kid. Fuck I could just kiss him he was so friggin adorable right then. Without thinking, I grabbed his sleeve and said "c'mon puppy, party's this way"