“By the Hitman”
“Come on,” First Sergeant Ike Samuelson urged with a deep, breathless growl. “You can do this, Private. I know you canЕ”
The nineteen-year-old looked up, his gray-blue eyes locking with the deeper cobalts of his superior officer. The hard expression on Ike’s square jaw had softened only slightly, just enough to convince Private Thomas John Bullen to cross that one final line. After this, there would be no turning back.
“Show me you got what it takes to be the best of the best. Prove you got the balls to be a Ranger!”
The smell of Ike’s skin, to Bull’s surprise, was strangely reassuring, not at all as repulsive as he’d thought during all those years when he’d joked and narked on other guys, accusing them of being prick-lovers. The rubbery-hardness of Ike’s boner in his trigger hand felt odd, but enjoyable. Bull knew well enough what it was like to play with his own cock, all eight fat, hairy inches. But this – the idea of stroking another man’s root – most of him wanted to run from the supply shed, into the brewing blizzard outside in the hopes the cold night air might shock some sense into him. Another needed to follow through on his promise to Ike, and it was to this voice that he listened.
Bull studied the First Sergeant’s uncut cock and the warm, cum-packed heaviness of the nuts hanging loosely beneath its thickness. “Fuck,” he sighed, moaning out a hot breath to tease the loose, moist skin of Ike Samuelson’s ample foreskin. Reaching his free hand up to ogle the man’s sac, Bull gently rolled the fat balls. He’d smelled the sweat off his own stones enough times to recognize the musky odor of the First Sergeant’s, but to his own surprise, he appreciated it.
“That’s it, son,” Ike growled. “Show them some respect, you handsome fuckerЕ”
Ike cupped Bull’s unshaven chin and pulled him closer. The hairy skin of the First Sergeant’s nuts rubbed against his right cheek, then past his nose. Bull got a deep whiff off the other man’s balls before taking them, willingly, over his lips. He continued to stroke the thick handle of Ike’s shaft, forcing what had to be an easy-two inches of veiny foreskin up and down to tease the trigger of nerves under the First Sergeant’s arrow-shaped cockhead. Straddling his legs over Bull’s shoulders, Ike moaned and spread his big soldier feet, already bared of their boots but still clad in sweaty-smelling OTC socks. With his face now trapped between Ike’s strong legs, Bull brushed his tongue from one side of his CO’s sac over to the other, tasting the heady perspiration of a hard day’s work.
At first, the idea of licking another man’s balls disgusted him; each time Bull got a mouthful of man-sweat, the knot in his stomach pulled tighter. But to his shock, the longer he worked Samuelson’s balls, the more he liked it. It was enough to coax him higher toward the intended target, up to the slippery uncut head of the boner in his grasp.
“I want it, Sarge,” Bull huffed, sending another hot breath over Ike’s spit-shined nut sac.
“I know you do, son,” Ike growled. “Remember what I told you, about those soldiers in Ancient Greece – how the young ones drank the sperm of the seasoned warriors, believing they’d gain strength from it. That’s it. Take it in your mouth. Get some strength from that dick, Private. Show my fuckin’ cock some respect-!”
Licking his way up from the mossy-smelling, hairy root to the slick, crimped edges of foreskin dripping over it’s fat mushroom head, Bull got his first taste of Ike’s manhood. Closing his eyes, he lapped at it once more, this time dipping his tongue into the moist piss-hole capping its fat seven inches. Unlike the cunts he swore he couldn’t do without, the prick now teasing Bull’s taste buds had a clean, addictive quality he’d never guessed possible.
Chicks were meant to suck dicks, an acid voice in his head accused. Not men. Not men like me! But, fuck…this is too good to pass up…
Bull slurped harder, faster, aware that the salty juice oozing out of the hood of the First Sergeant’s uncut cockhead was growing muskier the longer he worked it between his lips. Somewhere at the back of his mind, the voice accusing him of being a prick-lover went silent and was replaced by memories of everything that had happened on the Army base during the last month in North Carolina – all the things Ike had taught him about the new life he’d have if he left the old behind.
R – Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger, fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession. I will always endeavor to uphold the prestige, honor, and high ‘esprit de corps’ of my Ranger regiment…
First Sergeant Samuelson pulled back suddenly on his cock, savagely yanking it out of Bull’s mouth and slugging it hard against the young Private’s cheek. The action left a trickle of precome and spit glistening on the young Private’s face. Ike leaned down, licked Bull’s cheek clean, and then pressed their lips together. Tongues soon followed, mixing the sour-sweet taste of the CO’s precome between them. At one point, Ike broke their lip-lock and rose to his feet.
“Stand up,” he commanded. Shocked at first, Bull complied.
A – Acknowledging the fact that a Ranger is a more elite soldier who arrives at the cutting edge of battle by land, sea, or air, I accept the fact that as a Ranger, my country expects me to move further, faster, and fight harder than any other soldier…
With the sound of the January wind howling around the cinderblock walls, the two men kissed again. Bull smashed his lips into Ike’s. The First Sergeant wrapped an arm around Bull’s waist and ran the rough fingers of his other hand through the buzzcut topography of the young Private’s neck and head. In a bold action he hadn’t dared since that first time Ike had sucked his cock four weeks earlier, Bull felt up his Commanding Officer’s chest, shoulders, back. Soon, both men were locked tightly together – mouths, chests, cocks.
N – Never shall I fail my comrades. I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong, and morally straight, and I will shoulder more than my share of the task whatever it may be. One hundred percent and then some…
A gust of cool air swept over Bull’s bared ass as his camouflage pants were yanked down, taking his skivvies with them. The First Sergeant grabbed hold of the hard concrete of his young Private’s left ass-cheek. His other hand groped both their dicks. Bull felt the moist, spit-shined foreskin rub against his rock-hard knob. “I’m gonna teach you something, Private,” Ike huffed, his voice heavy with the odor of maleness. “Something about respect for your fellow soldier, your brothers in uniform. Respect for the cocks we both share.”
G – Gallantry will I show the world that I’m a specially selected and well-trained soldier. My courtesy to superior officers, neatness of dress, and care of equipment shall set the example for others to follow…
First Sergeant Samuelson’s chokehold on the young Private’s cock tightened. Bull glanced down, moaned, and steadied himself on the other man’s shoulder. “What are you doing, Sir?”
“A little something only two men can do for themselves. Pussy’s fine most of the time, son,” Ike drawled, lining the heads of their cocks up until one pee-hole was pressed against the other’s piss-slit.
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