I only enlisted because Mum and Dad thought it would make a man of me. The night the big decision was made I overheard them discussing me.
"Let's face it, Marge," I heard Dad say, "he's queer. No, he's worse than queer - he's tri-sexual."
"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Mum's voice trembled.
"Holy cow, woman, he'll try anything! They told me down at the nick last time he was found in the park that he deliberately goes looking for it. He's out till all hours, looking for men to have sex with. Do you want me to spell it out any plainer?"
"Oh dear, where did we go wrong with him, love?"
"We did nothing wrong. I guess he's got a wire loose somewhere. The Air Force will sort him out!" Oh Dad, if only you could have known what your beloved son Timothy was about to encounter!
So, here I am, coming to the end of eight gruelling weeks of what the Air Force euphemistically calls 'basic recruit training'. Our Flight are doing a week's night guard duty and I am supposed to be guarding the Kingsbridge Armoury, along with Sergeant Joshua Ellington, comically known to all as 'Duke'. The Kingsbridge Armoury was built in the mid-1860s as part of a chain of huge forts, munitions dumps and sundry other military installations, at a time when minor revolutions in mainland Europe had provoked an unreasoning fear of an invasion of England by the French.
The Armoury is a huge purpose built subterranean complex, designed to hold vast amounts of explosives, ammunition, guns, mortar shells, and just about every other kind of munitions imaginable. It is a subterranean warren of long, dark tunnels and passageways, leading to cavernous dungeon-like areas and their deadly stores, sealed off behind enormously thick and heavy lead lined doors. Ever since the days of the Cold War, it has been used for storing Air Force munitions, warheads, vital parts of fearsome airborne weapons such as Rapier, Sentinel and Sting Ray, as well as some which do not bear thinking about.
'Duke' Ellington is a big guy, his skin an attractively glistening dark brown. About 23.30 hours 'Duke' called me over and invited me to go with him for a cigarette break. I don't smoke myself but he don't know that. He leads the way and I follow, giving him a very careful examination, as if I am about to buy a side of beef. I guess he is about 34 or 35, big with beefy thighs, a wide back and the broadest goddamned shoulders I've ever seen. The cheeks of his arse strain against the cotton material of his fatigues, which are tucked into his highly bulled combat boots. His helmet is tilted forward on his head, shielding his eyes from the unwanted gaze of the curious - or the fearful. His neck is thick and bullish, from his shaved head to inside the starched collar of his shirt. However, his most distinguishing features are his huge hands: one of them is wrapped around the butt of his rifle as if it were a matchstick; the other hand is gesticulating, emphasising the importance of keeping where we are going 'a secret place'.
By now my sexual antennae are on "Status: FULL ALERT." We only met a few hours ago and already he is propositioning me, wanting to show me his 'secret place'. He can barely suppress his lustful eagerness, reminding me of the men I used to come across in the local fleapit on a Saturday afternoon. Their hands would creep up the leg of my short grey trousers and rub over the front of my boyish briefs, until they made playful contact with my pre-adolescent balls and dick, not yet fully developed but sufficient to give me a truly hard stiffie. I have always wondered what the fuck was wrong with me. I must have given off some kind of sexual body odour that had every post-pubertal male within cumming distance of me get a hard-on and want to fuck me. The only consolation I can see is that life has never been dull!
'Duke' stops walking and turns round to put down his only ground rule. "Ba de way, man, yo' calls me Dook only when us is alone." My hand is engulfed by his. "Ah t'ink yo'm purty cute fer a white bo'." I am five foot ten and a half, with really short spikey blondish hair and ice-blue eyes. I have been called a lot of things in my short life before, but 'cute' is a first. "My name is Timothy," I murmur.
We walk on and descend a steep, narrow stone staircase into a tunnel broadening out into a vast, man-made cavern. 'Duke' is right! This is a dark, humid secret place where no one would ever find you if you got lost. Why would he want to come here? As if I could not hazard an educated guess! He stretches out on the cold stone floor, taking a pack of Marlboro cigarettes from the breast pocket of his shirt. He flips it open, extracts a cigarette with his teeth and then lights it with his Colibri. He takes a long, slow inhalation of smoke, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He holds the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds, then gradually exhales, controlling the thin ribbon emerging from between his lips. He sighs, contentedly. He opens his eyes and holds the cigarette towards me. Although I don't smoke, I want to go through with this, see just what he intends doing. I reach out to take it, but he jerks it away from me and holds it pointing downwards over his crotch. It is dark in that cavernous space but the glow of the smouldering cigarette creates enough gentle radiance for me to see that he has a raging hard-on straining to break free against his zipper.
"Sit down here," he orders, patting the ground beside him. I squat down on my haunches and he places the fag against my lips. I open my mouth and take it. His thumb and forefinger caress my lips as I take a deep drag, swallowing the smoke, leaning my head back against the cold, damp uneven stone wall, striving not to retch or cough. I let the smoke seep lazily through my half open lips. Duke puts his fingers back on my mouth and manoeuvres them to prize it open. He uses my saliva to moisten his thumb and fingers and, before I know it, he is trying to fist-fuck my mouth. "Mmmm! Ah'd lahk to put ma fis' up yo' rear end, hunny, an' give yo' a real treat!" The voice whispering seductively in my ear is silky smooth and I find this kinky and erotic - I have never tried to take a fist up me before! "We'm gonna have some mahty fun times durin' dese breaks," he rasps into my ear, "but now we'm in a hurry. We don' wan' dem missin' yo' on yo'r fuss day." For some reason, at that precise moment I could not help thinking of Mum and Dad and what they'd make of all this - after all, they had been instrumental in my signing on to get away from these temptations in the first place!
'Duke' reaches down and unzips my fly, followed by his own. He undoes our belts and trouser waistbands. Both of us lower our fatigues and briefs in one swift movement. He climbs on top of me, sticks his hand back in my mouth and I go down on it, sucking as if it were an enormous prick. He rolls over, pulling me on top of him. He guides my mouth down to his huge uncut dick and, as soon as I am on it, he flips us over to a sixty-nine position, swallowing my cock and both my balls like a vacuum cleaner. He nibbles, bites, slurps and sucks. My mouth wraps around the bulbous head of his massive prick. He fucks my face and sucks my dick like no one has ever done before.
Soon, too soon, it is time for us to cum. Shoving his middle finger up my arse, he times his rhythm with my spurts. As thick, creamy gobs of spunk shoot out of my cock slit, he frigs me hard with his finger. He swallows every drop of my jism and keeps on sucking. I'm spent, sore and want him to stop but he has not cum yet. He rolls me on to my back and straddles my face. His huge hairy balls bounce heavily against my eyes, nose and face. Whenever they get close to my mouth I gnaw, chew and lick. Right above my eyes, 'Duke' is hand pounding his dick and I get a clear close-up of his foreskin sliding back and forth over the crown of his cock, lubricated with quantities of pre-seminal with every pass. He gasps and spreads his legs. My tongue slips into his arsehole. He thrusts down on to my face. He grunts and groans. Stifled shouts echo through the chamber. "Oh, Jeez! Fuckin', fuckin' hell!" he cries. He lies down, backwards, on top of me. I am under him, his hairy arse in my face and I can feel him trembling as he fires his cannon. "Careful," he gasps, "we doan wanna git messy on our uniforms."
He clambers carefully off me and stands up. His enormous cock is still dripping seminal fluid. He reaches out a hand to help me up. As I rise, I lick the remains of his cum from his prick. He squeezes out one more large wad. I take my finger, wipe it off his dick and then put my finger in my mouth. He watches me suck his cum off my finger with burning lust in his eyes. He'd like to do it again - and so would I! "Ah cum a gallon," he says, pointing to the rough stone wall behind us. It is dripping with thick gobs of cum. "Yo' didn' do so bad yo'self, cutie bo'!" He milks my dick one more time and bends over to suck out the very last drops.
'Duke' and I did the duty together for the remainder of that week and by the end of each tour of duty, we had whitewashed the walls of that 'secret place' several times over!
Laurie Page.