“By the Hitman”
Warm and wet, the set of lips wrapped tightly around the head of Thomas John Bullen’s bone-hard cock slid steadily lower, until all itch-red eight inches vanished from sight. “That’s it, cocksucker,” Bull groaned under his breath, reaching one hand down to encircle the back of the buzzed scalp between his spread legs, pulling it closer. “Show me how much you love my fuckin’ dickЕ”
Bull closed his eyes, tried not to think that the mouth slurping on his boner belonged to another nineteen year old fuck-up on his way to boot camp hell, tried not to think how good it felt, much better, he realized than even the woman who’d sucked it all summer. In the shadows of the last urine-stinking stall of the compound’s latrine, Bull did his best to imagine the mouth humming up and down on his shaft belonged to Becky Kendall. He thought about her brown hair and wet lips, the smell of her perfume, the clean-shaved tightness of her cunt, hell, even the taste of it after he’d fucked her full of his juice.
But try as he did, there was no denying it. Soon-to-be-Private Alex Reeves was better at giving head than his ex-girlfriend. In fact, Bull thought as the other man fumbled his balls out of his boxers, this was hands-down the best cock sucking he’d ever had.
“Fuck,” Bull moaned, bracing the cold, wet cement wall, sure he was going to slip at any minute, sure the toilet bowl beneath his booted feet would crack under his heaving weight and send them both to a heap on the floor. But somehow, the position they’d assumed held – Bull, dressed in his Battle Dress Uniform, cock hanging from his unbelted pants, Alex Reed hunched down with a life-or-death lip-lock on the pulsing eight incher that hadn’t been sucked since the whole fucked-up turn of events put him in this place.
Bull clamped down his eyes and focused only on shooting what promised to be one hell of a load down the other man’s throat. “Tell me how much you love my cock,” he huffed under his breath.
Alex moaned his response. The 10-4 to Bull’s demand sent a hot vibration around his cock. At that point, Bull grew aware of the skill being shown to his prick – the way Alex toyed with his nuts, how he used his tongue to rub the underside of Bull’s cock in a way that was way too seasoned for this to be the nineteen year old’s first time of having a dick in his mouth.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you,” Bull growled, passing the palm of his hand and his fingertips over the clean-clipped stubble of the young soldier’s head.
Alex spit out Bull’s cock and licked at the sticky juice oozing from it’s piss-slit. “No way, man, I swear-”
Bull looked down into the nervous blue eyes of the other man’s face and sighed his disgust. “You’re a fuckin’ liar. A liar and a cocksucker.”
“I mean it, sir,” Alex pleaded, lowering his face so that Bull’s nuts were balanced on his nostrils. The warm breath teased the low hangers dangling out of his unzipped BDU’s even looser.
Bull liked it when the other new guy showed him that kind of respect. They’d established it quickly, a kind of understanding neither of them had spoken of much in the last week, but each was acutely aware of. “Who owns this mouth, faggot?” he growled in a mean, deep voice.
“You do, sir.”
The tongue licking at his sweat-soaked balls dipped up and brushed the trigger of nerves lining the underside of Bull’s fat, cut cock. Bull lurched again. It felt so good, he had to resteady his grip on the wall. The fucker between his legs knew exactly what he was doing.
“Shut up and suck my cock, cocksucker,” he sighed. Doing as he’d been ordered, Alex opened wide, and soon had the dripping head of Bull’s prong clenched tightly between his lips. “Fuck-!”
Bull half-closed his eyes and thought about Becky, about how much he would have loved to mount her tight hole – any woman’s hole at this point. But those days were over. His ass and all eight inches of dick between his legs belonged to the Army. At least he had Alex. If the only head he was doomed to get for the next two years came from the mouth of another soldier, he could live with it. Hell, yeah, he thought. Every chance I getЕ “Aw, fuck, man,” Bull groaned, drawing in a deep, sour breath of the male-stink in the air.
The expert cock sucking being shown to his dick steadily worked Bull closer to the edge of dumping his load. The slurping sound between his legs had grown sloppier the longer he listened. Looking down, he saw the tight seal of Alex’s lips around his cock glistening, not with spit, but precome. The sight of his spunk on another guy’s face proved almost too much.
“Fuckin’ cocksucker,” he growled. “Suck my fuckin’ dick-!”
Suck it, Alex did. At times, the young soldier slurping up and down on his tool would work only the head, teasing his cock to the verge of shooting.
But just when Bull felt his nut sac tense, Alex would swallow the shaft all the way down to the pubes, burying his nose into the tangle of mossy-smelling curls at the base of Bull’s flat, hard stomach.
It felt so good, Bull almost forgot where they were, the danger of getting caught in the field house latrine, and the fact he’d let another guy go down on him. The hand jostling his nuts was a constant reminder of everything, including that he and Alex Reeves had crossed a line – and it felt fucking great.
Bull wanted it to last, but the attention being shown to his cock worked him past the point of being able to hold it back any longer. He felt it first in his toes, a tingle that worked higher, up the defined muscles of his legs, under his ass, between his quads, over his nuts, all the way to the base of his shaft.
“You fuckin’ cocksucker,” Bull grunted, this time louder than anything he’d howled in the dark, dank stall. His grip on the slick cement wall weakened. Pulling Alex’s head flush up against his abdomen, Bull pumped off the first shot. He grunted as a second and third blast followed. Alex matched him well, swallowing down each squirt to keep from gagging, his own moans muffled in hot breaths across Bull’s patch of dark brown man-hair.
Bull shoved in one more time and spouted the last of his jizz across the other man’s tongue. Reaching down, he jerked his cock free of Alex’s mouth, squeezing out a few more drops of sperm. Alex licked them as they emerged, a smile on his handsome face.
“I like this buddy system of ours,” the man between Bull’s legs whispered. “Buddy.”
Grinning his approval, Bull released Alex’s head to wipe off the sweat covering his own face. He was about to say something when the sound of the bathroom door creaking open and the scuffle of boots on the tiled floor drove them apart. A gust of chilly December air, a raunchy mix of old piss from the urinals and cigarette smoke, swept under and over the stall. Once it was safe to, Bull quickly hopped down and followed Alex out into the winter darkness.
All night long, Bull thought all night about the awesome suck-job Alex had given him. The memory kept his dick half-hard half the time, and rock hard the rest, rubbing it into the front of his fatigues. The constant rhythmic vibrations from the floor of the bus as it traveled highways and back roads didn’t help; they reminded Bull of the throaty moans Alex had made around his cock twelve hours before.
At one point, the cold, cramped bus came to a jerking stop under what was steadily becoming a snowy winter morning in North Carolina. Bull started awake and peered out at the way ahead of them. Flashes of the steel gray sky hanging high above the barren trees grew brighter the longer he looked, though the light held little comfort. So, he thought, this is the end of the fuckin’ roadЕ
They had stopped at the cross bar of a security gate. Bull pressed his cheek against the chilly, moist glass of the window to shock him further from unconsciousness. A moment later, he felt an elbow to his ribs.
“Look, Bull,” Alex whispered in sleepy voice, indicating the boot camp’s guard shack. The barest smell of stale come from the last load Bull had squirted infused the other man’s breath. “You think we’ll still get to be paired up?”
Bull narrowed his eyes for a better view of base. Under the winter sky, illuminated by stark white lights and ringed by fences capped by barbed wire and a series of checkpoints, it looked more like a prison than a fresh opportunity to get his life together.
“Whaddaya think, Bull?” Alex persisted.
“Shut up,” Bull huffed, turning to face the other man. “Stop being such a pussy.”
Truth was, Bull felt just as nervous, and he soon discovered, with good cause.
The folder hit the top of First Sergeant Ike Samuelson’s well-organized desk with a loud thunder-crack. Private Thomas John Bullen, standing stiffly at attention, had learned not to flinch or show any sign they’d gotten to him. No matter what, he wouldn’t, especially to a hard-ass like Ike Samuelson.
“So you’re the hot-shot fuck-up from Massachusetts, the pothead who stole a car, then smashed it into three others.”
Staring straight ahead, doing his best not to blink, Bull answered, “Sir, yes, sir – that would be me, sir,” in his best respectful voice.
“That would be you, alright,” Sergeant Samuelson said. “You’re a real piece of work, son. A regular bull in a china shop.”
Somehow, around the armor he’d built up to protect himself, the barest trace of a grin slipped out to twist the corner of the young private’s mouth.