Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
I sprinted at full speed, stark naked, cock swinging, hiding my face, scrambling up the slope behind the beach to dive behind the bushes. Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! Oh, hell! Peering back through the branches, I saw Staff Sergeant Nilen looking the other way. Whew, that was close.
I gnashed my teeth. Buck naked and crouching behind the bushes, I felt like an idiot. Other nudists walking by on their way to the beach looked at me and snickered.
SSG Nilen, self-appointed Battalion Queer Hunter (and well-known asshole), stalked up and down the nudist beach, defiantly wearing swimming trunks, looking from side to side. Any soldier he recognized at Oduva Beach soon got an investigation that smeared him with “suspected homosexual tendencies” and maybe a discharge from the Service.
I pounded my fists into the ground. Nilen lingered near my beach blanket — with my swimming suit crumpled on it in a little pile. He couldn’t know they were mine, but I bit my lip — how am I going to get out of here? I had to take my wife shopping at the PX, and my son’s school wrestling team had a tournament later on. All this is the US Army’s fault The Army turned me into a queer!
A week earlier, my son Brian showed up at my office in HQ to beg me for a karate demonstration at his high school. Not my favorite thing to do. I was trying to talk him out of it when the battalion CO walked in. “Sergeant Dirius, I couldn’t help but overhear. I think a karate demonstration at the school by our Battalion Training NCO would be great — good recruiting move. As an expert in hand-to-hand, you could really give them a show”
“Yes, sir, Colonel!” Damn.
A few days later, at a 9:00 a.m. assembly at Pegumshi High School, I was introduced as “Master Sergeant Arnold ‘Gorilla’ Dirius from the 1st Battalion, 489 Infantry at Fort Wudicay! A great big guy who can take care of himself, and today he’s going to show us some self-defense tricks!”
My damned staff had sent them that “Gorilla” bit. As a kid I got that nickname because my shoulders and chest are so wide, my arms so big, and my legs so short. Now I’m 6’4″ but with a long torso, okay, I look like an ape.
I walked out in my Class A green uniform with all the medals and the beret. I took off the coat, rolled up my sleeves, and went through a few “And-Here’s-What-To-Do-When-He” routines with a couple of the men from my staff. Simple stuff.
Hard work though, because the air-conditioning on the stage was on the blink, and by the time I did my last block and throw, we were sweat-soaked. After final applause, thanks, and handshakes, I asked if they would mind if we used the gymnasium showers.
The high school shower room looked like a remodeled classroom — windows bricked up and painted over, walls painted green, tile floor, shower nozzles jutting from the top of each wall about four feet apart. Smelled of bleach. “Help yourselves, gentlemen. These are the student showers, but you’ve got the place to yourself. Kids won’t be back in here for an hour — at the end of class. Towels are stacked in the locker room.”
I stood under one of the showerheads and turned the faucet. A crooked stream shot out, most of it to the right, so I moved over to get under it. The others started showers several feet away, went through a quick rinse-down, and left. At my age, though, I enjoyed a good hot shower, and I took my time, lathering up and enjoying the warm water — even cockeyed and at a slant. Ah, yeah, in a couple of years when I retire, I’ll be done with all this.
“Wow, excuse me, we don’t usually get body-builders in here!”
I looked back. A little guy dressed in blue gym trunks and a white Pegumshi High School T-shirt leaned against the doorframe. Wasn’t a student — looked about 25 — and he looked like a movie star — face like a young Robert Redford, blond hair, blue eyes, smile like a sunrise, and his tight T-shirt and shorts showed off a body from the cover of a body-builders’ magazine. Physically perfect.
But in miniature.
The guy was short. Very short. At least a foot shorter than I, barely over five feet. Top of his head would be at my chest. But like a lot of real movie stars who look tall unless you notice they have to reach up to the doorknob, this guy was the perfect male — everything to scale. Broad, shoulders; hard, sculptured musculature; wedge-shaped torso narrowing down to slim hips.
A living Ken doll. I snickered to myself. Handsome little runt! I cleared my throat. “I’m from Fort Wudicay, here to give a karate demonstration. Hot on that stage, though, so they brought us down here for a shower.” As I spoke, the guy started pulling off his clothes and dropping them behind the doorway.
When he got down to an old, yellowed jockstrap, he looked up at me while he pulled it lower. Jeez! His cock flipped up harder than a tree branch and Etiler Escort slapped against his belly. I blinked. Never been in the showers with a civilian before . . . and never with a guy with a hardon. In the barracks, this asshole would get arrested. Must be okay for civilians.
And what a hardon. Like a Coke bottle. Don’t stare, idiot! That “huge” cock is just a normal one on a pint-sized hombre.
But damn, it really is like a Coke bottle! Wide at the base, then narrower, then wider again. I gulped. Even his cockhead is smaller than the shaft — like a bottle cap. It’s awesome.
Awesome? That word and a guy’s cock do not go in the same thought!
Probably should’ve looked away, but I didn’t. A tracery of veins all over it. Long foreskin made it look even longer — sagged halfway to his knees from an erotic triangle of blond hair. Heavy balls hanging below it in a soft, wrinkled bag like two dumplings in a suede sac.
As I watched, he got a full-on, up-straight, throbbing and drooling hard-on. Damn, look at that thing!
When he saw me looking — Caught red-handed!– he looked down at my groin. “Nice one you got there. Real beaut. Your daddy by any chance a horse? The rest of you is pretty big.”
My face felt hot. Great! I find myself naked and alone in a shower room with a queer! How fucking embarrassing!
He walked up next to me and turned on the shower at my right. He smiled, facing me, showing me that big cock. Never been in the showers with a man coming on to me, either. I glanced down again. It’s true: looks huge, but he’s so short, it’s probably only seven or eight inches, just like everybody else’s.
I was damned uncomfortable and wanted to get away from him, but not to move away to another showerhead. Didn’t want to be rude. That was sure to get back to my CO. “Damn showerhead,” I muttered, and I grabbed the thing, trying to bend it or wrench it or something to get the water squirting the other way.
“Here, let me help.” The little queer dragged in a wooden crate, stepped up on it, and started yanking at my showerhead. That brought him closer, and that big hardon almost touched me! He grunted and yanked, but no change.
Goddamn it, I’ve got to fix that thing! I jerked and banged at it, but the stream still came out to the right. Shit! I don’t like this! Standing close to a queer was like seeing dog shit on the sidewalk — the farther away you keep, the less you have to worry about it. I reached up with both hands and twisted at the pipe again.
Suddenly, with a quick movement — CLICK! — he handcuffed my wrists to the showerhead! “What the hell? What are you doing?”
“Doing you a favor.”
I lurched back, but the pipe was solid! “You little piss-ant, I’ll kill you!” He grabbed me around the neck, but I kicked out behind me, kicking away his crate.
He didn’t fall — he had leaped off it — and he got a lock on one of my arms. His other hand grabbed at my balls! He pushed me forward, and I lost balance, falling against the wall, hanging by the handcuffs from the shower pipe.
Instantly he was on me, his legs kicking mine apart. “Lemme go! Goddamn it, I’ll kill you!” But with my hands locked above my head, leaning helplessly against the shower room wall and my legs spread wide — Oh, shit, he’s got me!
Sure enough: his finger slathered something slimy — what, Vaseline? Where in hell did he get that? — into my ass-crack and over my asshole, then something bigger — Oh, god, his cock! — pushed into my ass-crack and slid up and down it.
“God damn it!” I fought, struggling and lurching, and finally I managed to pull my legs back together and stand up tall, pulling away from his cock — his hips were a foot lower than mine. “What’s the matter, you little fucker? Too short for a real man? If I ever get loose, you’re dead!”
I heard wood scraping on the tile floor. He was back on the crate, and suddenly his cock was diving between my cheeks again. I struggled to keep my hips away, but he kept pressing his cock into my crack, searching, searching . . . and finding! Oh, god, it’s happening!
FUCK!! A stab of pain like a bayonet up my asshole! Damn! Sonofabitch! It hurts!
The pain was a motherfucker, and he kept pushing until I was dizzy from the agony. How motherfucking humiliating! I will never live this down! When I get loose, I will kill this sonofabitch! “Stop, goddamnit!”
And he did! The bastard stopped moving!
The pain eased off. Damn, what a relief! But I realized his cock was inside me! “Pull it out, you bastard!” But he didn’t. I struggled again, but he held himself in me, and the more I lurched back and forth, the more it hurt. So I stopped struggling. Hurt too much.
Panting. Gnashing my teeth. Tears in my eyes. Never been so fucking furious!
It hit me: the bastard was letting me adjust to his cock in Escort Etiler my ass, where it shouldn’t be! It was true. The pain eased off. My asshole is stretching.
After a few minutes he pushed in a few more inches. I stiffened — again the bayonet up my ass — but once more he paused, letting me swell around his size, letting me stretch, . “I’ll kill you!” I gasped, “if I ever get loose, I’ll break your fucking neck!”
Then sloosh! Sudden relief. My screaming asshole gratefully relaxed as it slid into that narrow part in his cock! “Got your cherry, big man. Feel my cock in your ass? Relax, man, you’re going to like this; I can tell.”
He’s in me. A man has fucked me. I can never hold my head up again.
And he’s in only halfway! To the narrow waist on that Coke bottle of his. Then he slowly shoved in a couple more inches, and the pain came back! But not quite as bad. I bit my lip in humiliation — I was adjusting to him. And worse, I couldn’t help but spread my legs — I had to. It eased the pain. I also stopped struggling — anything to escape the pain.
Finally I was breathing hard, in hoarse gasps, staring at the wall. Taking it as he shoved in more and more. As he spread me to his max, at his widest point at the base of his cock, the pain grew hotter until finally his cockhair scratched against my butt. He’s in. All the way.
Again he held himself still, and again the pain faded away. Since I wasn’t struggling, he placed his hands on my hips. I don’t know how long we stood like that. Felt like hours. Probably only a minute.
When he pulled it back, though, I was astonished. Since I was “adjusted” to it, it felt good! What?? What in hell is going on?
And when my asshole clenched into the narrow part of his cock as it went by, it was like a quick jolt of caffeine — BAM! Pleasure so strong it made me see stars!
Then stretch again over the wide part at the tip, and oh, my god! The pain fused into pleasure, and when he pushed in again, it was even more pleasure — sizzling ecstasy until the jolt of joy across the narrow part, then fiery pain-pleasure in stretching to the max at the base of his cock!
Damn! Never felt anything like that in my life! Again! Do it again!!
He did. He jabbed in and out, in and out, in and out, and pleasure beyond description burned me up! Can’t take this! Can’t stand it! Can’t go on, can’t — with a groan, I gripped the shower pipe for support, and my hips began working toward him, matching his strokes.
“Yeah, big man, now you want it. Soon you’ll be begging me.”
Couldn’t help myself. He fucked me in long, slow, tantalizing thrusts, and every bump, vein, and ripple in his erection electrocuted my asshole. Every time his cock’s “waist” went by, forcing a quick close & open of my asshole, I grunted. I bowed my head, glad he could not see my face. Fucking astonishing! Never felt anything like this!
Wanted it to go on forever.
The pleasure built higher and higher until I realized his big prick had fucked away my resistance. Glad this isn’t my fault. He’s raping me. Might as well enjoy it. No shame in that. I worked with him like a real fuck-buddy.
But he stopped. Stopped! Pulled his magic bottle from my buttocks and stood back! From floating on a cloud of pleasure, I came crashing back to the steamy shower room. I looked back. He was grinning. “Say it, sergeant, tell me what you want.”
I said nothing. Little fucking queer! He rubbed his cock up and down my fevered ass-crack again. Teasing. Tantalizing. Torturing! A Coke bottle dabbling at the lips of a man dying of thirst.
“Go on, say it, big man. You know what you want. Tell me.”
Can’t stand it! Couldn’t hold back a moan. “All right,” I hissed, “do it! Do it again!”
His cock still stroked at my crack. “Do what, old man?”
Old man? I was pissed again. The little prick! I’m old enough to be his father, but when I get loose, I’m going to be his executioner!
But my immediate problem was that my asshole was on fire with need. I gnashed my teeth. “Stick it in, you squatty little runt! Stick it in me!”
“Stick what in you? You’re a cock-hungry fag; you know what you want. You’re a big piece of meat aching for a real man to use that tight hole! Say it, shithead! Beg me!”
I gave up. I spread my legs wide, tilted up my ass, and roared, “Fuck me! Stick that big schwanz up my ass and fuck me, you bastard!”
Never been treated like that before. Never! And to my horror, feeling like a slut, a whore, his fuck-bitch, set me on fire! “Please. Please! Fuck me with that big cock! Ram it up my hole! I want it! I want you to!!”
He did. The little shit sank that magic cock back in me, ramming full-length in a single stroke. It hurt, but already stretched wide-open, I loved the pain — it was part of the pleasure. He let Etiler Escort Bayan himself go, lunging into me with full-length rams, slamming our pelvic bones together, driving me out of my fucking mind.
I couldn’t believe it. A man is fucking me, a little guy I could kill with one arm! And I begged him to! No denying it — his big dick lunging up my ass was fabulous! The pleasure grew stronger and stronger, higher and higher until — Oh, no, it can’t be — he fucked me over the edge!
The mother of all orgasms started in my scrotum. I looked down as my own cock, harder than an iron stake, spurted my white man-juice all over the shower room wall in gigantic, slimy globs. How fucking humiliating! I came for him! A little runt sticking his prick in my ass! Didn’t even touch myself!
He kept thrusting at me, prolonging my afterglow, keeping me at a hot, horny, purring simmer until, driving his crank up me in short, rugged jabs, he reached his own climax. In a frenzy, his hands gripped my ribs, and he sank his cock up me so deep, he gave me another short pleasure-burst, almost a mini-orgasm!
He stood plugged into me while his dong shot his rounds into my gut, filling me with warmth. His fingers dug into my ribs — I’ll have bruises there tomorrow — but drunk with lust, I loved it. Yeah, grab me, dig your fingers into me, hurt me, you little bastard!
Panting like a racehorse! I loved it! Can’t believe it! Never cummed so hard. Rivulets of my sperm ran down the wall from levels about as high as my head! What an orgasm! My ass glowed like a spent volcano.
His big cock inside me was a lightning-rod of happiness, and suddenly my whole world pivoted! I felt good! Never cummed this hard with Ulrike. It hit me like a case of Coke bottles falling out of the sky: This motherfucker of an orgasm was not from fucking! This was from being fucked!
When he finally pulled out his softening weapon, I felt emptied — like something was taken away, stolen from me. I bit my lip. The little guy’s cock in my ass rearranged my guts, but somehow it made even bigger changes in my brain. I want it back. I want it again.
About then I heard another click, and the handcuffs fell open. I let go of the water pipe and fell against the wall. Then I stood up and turned around. He had hopped off the crate and moved away, looking at me closely, in a defensive crouch. Both of us were still breathing hard.
I looked down and flicked some of the last drops of cum from my cock. “That was rape,” I said quietly. “Oughta break your neck.”
I had to say that. Masculine pride. He had fucked me, after all, and I outweighed him by 100 pounds and was at least twice his age! He said nothing. I looked down at his face. “But I won’t. Most incredible feeling I ever had. Never cummed that hard in my life.”
He smiled. “Thought you might like it.” He moved closer. “Sorry about the handcuffs.”
I lowered my voice. “You won’t need them next time.” Oh my god, did I say that??
He smiled and moved toward me. Cautiously. Uncertain. When he was close enough, I bent down and kissed him. Ohmigod, I’m kissing a man!
But what a kiss! Our mouths wallowed together, open, tonguing, as men kiss.
I crossed a big line; things would never be the same — but somehow his kiss erased everything in my brain but one thought: I want that little man’s cock to stretch my ass again!
Finally he pulled away. “The kids will be back in here soon. I’ll wait for you out by the lockers.” He walked out, leaving me trembling, confused, breathing hard.
I leaned back against the wall, the shower rinsing me off, and reality and panic seeped into my brain. God damn, what have I done? How can I ever live this down? I staggered out to the locker room.
Some of the students were coming in from the track, and they looked at me with surprise — Damn, can they tell I just got fucked? Does it show on me somehow?
I walked over to where the little man stood at an open locker, fully dressed in his blue shorts and white T-shirt. I looked at his crotch, admiring the bulge. That just taught me a new way of life. My asshole twitched. Not now. Kids are back. Damn.
He smiled, and his voice was low. “Want to get together again?”
“Yeah.” My voice was tiny. Like a little boy’s. What’s come over me?
“How about a motel room?”
All night long. That big dick humping me into the bed. The little man forcing me to do whatever he wants. My cock throbbed up hard and tented my towel. But I bit my lip. “Naw, that won’t work. If anybody from the Army saw me or the motel records, all hell would break loose!”
He closed the locker. “Tell you what: I’ll meet you this very afternoon at 4:00 at Oduva Beach. It’s a nudist beach, so if anybody from the Army sees you there, he’d have to be there naked, too, and what’s he doing there?”
Weird logic, but it makes sense. “Okay. I have a big tiger-stripe beach towel. You can’t miss it. I’ll meet you there at 4:00.”
He looked around — no kids were looking — then patted me on the butt. “And keep that nice, tight ass lubed up for me. I’m not done stretching you open.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32