tagFirst TimeMy Army, Myself

My Army, Myself


It's hard for anyone who hasn't been to war to understand the overwhelming feelings that can arise during the course of a military career. I've never judge another soldier's actions by the criteria of a civilian society. There are few things to prepare a man for the violence of wartime and its aftermath. At least that's how I look at my life and my behavior along the way.

I entered the military at an early age, just after high school. By the time I had concluded my first four year tour I had acquired a wife and shortly thereafter a son. Now I've lost my wife and contact with my son.

When I reenlisted against my wife's pleadings, she filed for divorce. I have never been willing to face relationships that had become difficult, so was happy when I was soon reassigned to a war zone. Afghanistan was the theater for my life to begin a radical turn.

As I said, nothing could have prepared me for the aftermath of such violence. The first time that I saw a friend blown in half by an IED, I think my psyche became totally damaged. I began wanting to cling to my buddies, as though time might stop if we held each other closely. Of course, I didn't, that wouldn't have fit the rugged American male that we were all trying to play. But, in my case, that was nothing but show.

It was in a late night shower as warm water washed away the dirt and grime of another long day's patrol that I first saw him step under the shower head next to mine. Though he seemed much younger than me, he was actually only a year younger. However at 24 I had already begun to acquire a hard patina that reflected the strain of too many patrols and too much dying. He had only recently been assigned to our outpost and still had the shine of youth and innocence about him.

I had noticed men's bodies before, what man wouldn't in the desolation of a foreign tour? Still, most of us tried to make do with a silent jerk-off under the sheets while recalling images of our wives and girlfriends back home. Also there was still the camaraderie that accompanied the occasional grab-ass between soldiers. Though the behavior was acceptable, I was aware that over the months, the feel and view of the youthful firmness of a man's naked buttocks began slowly replacing thoughts of women as I silently played with my cock beneath the covers each night.

Standing under the warm spray I kept glancing at the young soldier as he turned his slender body seemingly to capture the full effects of the spraying water, a movement which I privately hoped was for my benefit. My eyes longed to linger on his smooth body capturing its sleek muscular frame. Instead, I thought that a conversation between men might distract me away from the warmth that had begun creeping into my cock.

"Hey, you're pretty new here at Delta 8, is this your first time in the forward lines?" I asked.

He turned and I was struck by the clarity of his blue eyes.

"Yeah," he answered. "I was down in Kabul for a while, but was just reassigned yesterday." He shrugged as he said, "And today I went on my first patrol."

"Was it eventful?" I asked while watching his hand go between his buttocks to begin soaping the crevice. "I can do that for you," I wanted to say, but didn't.

"Nah," he said pausing as though he should comment any further, "Peaceful I guess," he hesitated before continuing, "but nerve-racking just the same."

"Yeah, it gets better though." I pulled on my soapy cock before continuing, "That's a lie, it never gets better; I wish I didn't have to tell you that." I wanted to tell him that if I put my tongue up his asshole that might help.

"Where did that thought come from?" I asked myself, surprised by my thinking. I was also trying to resist the swelling in my rod.

The young man looked back into my eyes before letting his glance drop to my crotch. "I was afraid of that," he muttered.

Removing my hand from my prick, was now partially engorged, I extended a handshake to the young man without thinking of how this might appear. "I'm Dave, Sergeant Dave Michael." I was fully aware that my cock was nearly at full staff.

"I'm Cecil, Cecil McDonald," he said, "from Iowa" while his eyes strayed to my cock.

We stood facing each other and I noticed that he had begun covering his own prick with a spread hand. He was trying to hide the start of his own stiffy. I looked down at his crotch, then back up when our eyes met. He abruptly reached to rub his fingers across my cock, "Is this okay?" he quietly asked.

Glancing around the empty shower room, I shrugged. "I don't know," I grimaced followed by a chuckle and shrug, "I've never been in this situation before." We stood each covering our members as water plunged down our naked bodies. "I guess we can hear somebody coming," I muttered the dumb-sounding reply. "What do we do next?" I softly mouthed the words.

My heart had begun throbbing in my chest. I wanted to leave and was too compelled to stay. Just standing naked with Cecil had bypassed any experiences I'd had so far.

"Well I do," Cecil mouthed the words back to me. Then he whispered, "Watch for anyone coming," as he turned and began backing toward me.

The first brush of my penis against the silky skin of his firm ass startled me. He pressed against me and I felt my cock wedge into the cleft between his cheeks. He began rubbing against me. My breathing was increasing as I responded to his movements with my own thrusts between his shiny, wet buttocks.

I was moving toward him when the young man leaned forward and I felt the tip of my rod move downward to the puckered entrance of his ass hole. Pressing against the tight muscle it began to give and my pole slid abruptly into the warm tunnel. With the unfamiliar sensations of a tight anus, I wrapped my arms around the man's slender waist and pressed my lips against his shoulder. He began squirming when I felt my cock head begin plunging in him.

It was late and our company was asleep as my hips moved driving my hard shaft deeper within him to be greeted by the soft warmth of his internal canal before withdrawing again. We moved in unison and I felt the swing of his arm as he stroked his cock. His moans were soft as I began humping him more powerfully. The newness of the experience had me struggling to contain my rasping breath.

I felt my balls begin to tighten while I rocked my hips back and forth. The initial tightness of his hole had relaxed and my penis was wrapped in its pleasure. Within his body I found the comfort of moist, warm silk.

Soon I felt Cecil twist and jerk his hips as he whispered, "I'm coming."

I knew I could no longer contain the pressure increasing within me and I pulled him tightly when the first hard squirts of my discharge shot deep into him. With each spurt the young man pressed even harder against me. When my semen had exhausted, I was suddenly spent. I slumped against his body with my arms wrapped around him and my head lay on his shoulder. The weight of a long day and the embrace of silky skin quieted me.

As my penis slowly slipped from him I became alert to the surroundings; a cold shower room was all that witnessed our interchange. The natural sounds of the building joined with flowing water to exaggerate the silence. Suddenly self-conscious, we both separated and returned to the shower heads that were still streaming water over our bodies. I rinsed my cock with soap as I watched the young man spread his ass cheeks and bend slightly while water rinsed them. I wondered if my juice was still in him, but was afraid to ask. This was all so new.

Unsure of what to do next, I continued watching him wash while turning off my own shower. Stepping out of the array of showers, I began drying and nervously glancing toward the doorway. Though it seemed that we had gone undetected, I was still troubled by what had happened between us. Once finished drying, I wrapped my towel around my waist and stepped into my pair of clogs ready to leave the room. Turning toward Cecil, who was still in the process of drying, words failed me except "I'm going."

The young man smiled and stepped from the shower to embrace me as he briefly planted his lips on mine. "Thank you," he said. I pulled backward finding that I was more uncomfortable with the embrace than our sex. The barracks was nearly dark as I padded silently toward my space and slipped into bed.

I woke with a start the next morning, 30 minutes before revile. Something about the impending day disturbed me. Then I remembered the night before. Things were different now. I'd had sex in the barracks with another soldier. What would this do to my frame of mind? Still, my hard cock beneath the covers called me to fall back into myself and get lost in memories of the night. So I did, satisfying myself with my hands and the memory of the warmth of Cecil's body.

As a Sergeant I had a relatively private space and once I was certain no one was about I kicked back the cover and treated my throbbing pole to a good massage. In my mind I wanted more of Cecil; I wanted to hold his slender body. As I stroked I thought of the feel of his body enclosing my cock. When from deep within me the urge for release began, I clasped my balls in my free hand and squeezed just as cum shot from me splashing onto my stomach.

After quickly wiping myself dry of cum, I dressed for the day in my desert kakis and boots and left for the mess hall. Inside the room as we ate breakfast there was the low muttering of men awaking for the day. I sat with another Sergeant, Patrick, to confer over the day's assignment. My platoon had been given escort duty for a supply convoy heading north into territories recently cleared of hostiles.

After breakfast I called for a platoon meeting with instructions for our assembly time and place. My group was filled with experienced men so there was little need to discuss preparation. Everyone knew their duties.

I returned to the mess for a 2nd cup of coffee when I saw him. Cecil had entered the hall with a group and seemed lost in conversation with two others. I watched him until his eyes lifted to mine and before I could divert my own, we both quickly smiled then turned away. Inside of me I had jumped over the brightness of his eyes. This reaction felt silly, sort of school girlish, and I was embarrassed. The soldier in me fought to suppress feelings of excitement.

I wanted to walk to him and...and..."What?" I thought; "what did I want to do?" The freshness of last night's memories over shadowed what I knew was a very delicate situation. And even though I had known fulfillment from our sex, I wasn't sure that I wanted to repeat the event, even though it had felt right, very right.

On the road up, packed inside the back seats of a supply truck, I sat next to a soldier holding his rifle. Handsome and brimming with self-confidence, he was in a talkative mood. At least his chatter kept my mind off last night. Though the route had been cleared of insurgents several weeks before, we could never be lax.

"So Sergeant," he talked on, "Where you from?"

"Colorado," I answered. He was soon telling me of his home in northern Maine, "Where snow gets so deep it take a plow just to go to the mail box." He chuckled at that.

I didn't know if that was true, having never been to Maine, but it didn't seem to mind to Larry. He chattered, about his home, how he loved the Army, and what a good shot he was. All the while he would touch my leg with a pat, or poke emphasizing a point. At first I thought it was just part of his personality, but when the touches began including an occasional squeeze, I had my doubts. Our driver was an Afghan regular, who spoke very little English. He seemed to be oblivious to the two of us.

"So Sergeant," Larry asked, while he gave my thigh a squeeze a little too close to my crotch to be ignored. "So Sarge," he repeated, while giving me another squeeze. "Do you think this old war will ever end, or just go on forever? Maybe our kids will be fighting over here?" I felt my cock begin to swell from the man's squeezing,

I could only note that I didn't know, I wasn't a fortune teller. At that point he reached for a cigarette and lighter in his pocket. Once the cigarette was lit, his hand fell over the crotch of my trousers. "Sorry man," he said pulling away. "I wasn't paying attention," then he turned to give me a big smile with a wink. I ignored the sensation he had caused, but knew that it must have been deliberate.

Our supply train was slowed as we encountered damage to the road due to seasonal rains. We knew that no road was predictable in this North Country. What with extreme weather and poor roads this trip was beginning to have the hallmarks of a long one.

We had several stops to make, unloading supplies of food and petrol. I made contact with each commander to account for the supplies and receive the proper signature. Larry made himself my escort, though I hadn't requested one. However, it was a bit comforting to be followed by an armed soldier since this was Afghanistan and nothing was every completely secure.

By the afternoon I began to have concerns regarding time, and radioed back that we were running late and might need escorts to meet us on the road back. Night travel in this part of the country wasn't encouraged.

As the day wore on, Larry's hand began spending more and more time resting on my leg without any objection from me. His positioning meant that with every joggle on our winding route I would feel the pressure of his fingers between my legs as our bodies nudged against each other's. Though I tried, I couldn't prevent the swelling in my trousers, which Larry seemed well aware of.

After our last stop, I received permission to return to base even though dark would fall before we got back. Command was comfortable that we would encounter no problems, though a convoy of battle jeeps would be sent out to meet us.

We began the route, with sunset starting to drop behind distant shadow of mountains while the temperatures fell. We put on our heavy coats and Larry resumed his chatter regarding the Maine countryside, and whatever else crossed his mind. I was trying to keep my attention on the road ahead.

As shadows lengthened and it grew colder, I felt Larry's hand slide under the edge of my coat to between my thighs. I jumped slightly with the touch. "What do you think you're doing, man?" I whispered. I put my hand in my lap to remove his, but instead only rested my palm over his hand. He whispered, "It's all okay, Sergeant, it's all okay." With the increasing pressure, I could feel my cock grow stiffer, pressing against my confining underwear and trousers.

After what seemed like miles, Larry's squeezing had grown more intense. I felt his fingers on the buttons of my trousers. He loosened a button and inserted a finger through the fly in my boxers and then he began rubbing through the nest of my thick pubic hairs. I had to catch my breath from the sensation.

The truck engine droned on while the night grew darker. Though heated, the cab of the truck did little against the dropping temperatures. Our driver, Ishmael, kept his eyes peeled on the road and if he was aware of anything going on in the truck, he revealed nothing. The interior remained unlit as a precaution.

My erection pressed upward against my trouser leg. I felt the soldier's hand creep through the fly of my military issue underwear, first dwelling among my pubic hair before sliding down my shaft. I pushed my hips upward as his fingers grasped my hard prick. He began stroking me while sharp jolts of pleasure shot upward as my cock head rubbed against the stiffness of my trousers.

With the roar of the truck and our driver's apparently disinterest, I lost myself in Larry's touch, moving my buttocks with an awareness of tightening inside me. Inside my pants leg I felt the stickiness of pre-cum. Inside my balls I could feel the beginning pressure of fluid preparing for its upward escape when Larry leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Can I suck it?"

I was first shocked by the suggestion but then I reached to pull my cock from my pants keeping it under my coat. I motioned my head toward the driver. Larry whispered, "They don't care; Afgan men don't care."

I realized that he was probably right, at least from the rumors around the camp. I placed his hand on my dick and whispered, "Go ahead." I was past carrying what anyone thought.

The man leaned over placing his head downward on my lap and I felt the sudden brush of his mouth encompassing my swollen prick. I gasped, but then allowed myself to relax to the feeling. Larry began contracting his lips and mouth to increase the vacuum on me. I placed my hand on the back of his head and began lightly pushing downward as I clinched my buttocks to rise up to meet the downward thrust of his mouth.

As our heat rose, I was aware that sweat was gathering around my neck. The air of the cabin seemed warmer with the heat from our bodies. At some point Ismael cracked the side window on the driver's side; apparently our passions were fogging the windshield. I was beyond caring what he might think.

Our sex continued for nearly an hour through most of the remaining ride. My body had become drenched with sweat. Occasionally Larry would lift his head for air, he said. At that time I would reach for the soldier's hard pole standing up through the fly of his trouser. I stroked it with no more concern about our driver. If he knew what was happening, he gave no appearance of caring.

The attention from the young man from Maine was nearly overwhelming at times. Sometimes I forced him to stop sucking while I suppressed the desire to come; once the urge had subsided I would signal him to resume. The strangeness of this situation, traveling at night in a military truck driven by a foreign driver through a hostile zone while being sucked off by another soldier, at times left me gasping from the intensity of the moment. It all seemed surreal.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I began to feel that I could no longer hold my release. I had edged closer and closer through the drive but now knew that I no longer had a will to resist; I wanted to shoot cum in this soldier's hot mouth. Without warning, the most shattering blast of cum that I had ever felt shot through my manhood. Larry's head jerked as he choked from the suddenness of the eruption but he remained engaged with my cock sucking the waves that followed.

Then it stopped. The pungent smell of semen filled the cab of the truck. Larry rolled down the window to spit my discharge out into the cold. When he turned towards me with a mischievous grin, I saw the glitter of my semen on his chin before he wiped it off. Suddenly self-conscious, I reached down to return my shrinking cock to my trousers and button up just in time for us to approach our post. We arrived just as the jeep patrol was starting to leave.

As I disembarked and turned from the truck to go report our run, I heard Larry say, "Hey Sarge." Turning I saw him grab is crotch as he said, "Thanks man."

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